There All Along

The three headed for the Great Hall together and used code names and phrases to talk about the Order's latest strategies. As they passed through the corridors, Harry and Ron uneasily noticed that people were watching them and whispering. Boys stopped in their tracks appearing stunned, dazed, and transfixed. Girls looked on in disbelief and jealousy. Ron caught two Ravenclaw boys staring and muttering to one another.

"WOW! Look how hot did she got!" one exclaimed.

"I wonder what happened to her," the other offered.

"Guess she's been holding out on us; holding concealed weapons," laughed the third.

Somehow, Hermione took no notice as she seemed too busy hoisting her bag repeatedly up her shoulder. An enraged Ron glared at the admirers.

"Now they notice her," he grumbled disgustedly.

Harry chortled in his wake. They made it to the Great Hall, and Hermione continued to unknowingly turn heads. Unfortunately, they happened to run into their least favorite person: Draco Malfoy.

His bigger, and no doubt dumber, cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, surrounded him as usual. With an immense lack of grace and tact, Malfoy stepped in their way as the trio tried to avoid him. They were not afraid of him, but Harry thought it best for Malfoy's health if they steered clear of one another.

Hermione shot him a hot glare. Yet, much like her own two best friends, she couldn't help but notice that Malfoy, too, had grown considerably over the summer. Taller with a strong look about him, Malfoy looked (dare she say it?) attractive. Repulsive as this thought was, she couldn't deny it fully. His hair no longer inhabited four bottles of gel. Instead, the white blond hair softly and seductively hung in his face over his cold grey eyes. They flashed with malice, and Hermione knew that no matter how much he had changed physically, the inside was still the same hard and cold mess. He was still a poor excuse for a human being.

"Oh goody," Malfoy smirked, crossing his arms across his chest. "It's Potty and Weasel. I see they've brought along their Mudblood pet. Did you miss me?" His sneering laugh rung in their ears as Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind him.

"Did we miss you?" Hermione asked with a cold, humorless laugh. "Why on earth would we waste a fragment of our lives missing a little ferret like you?"

Malfoy's cold, steel grey eyes flickered dangerously as he turned toward her. She kept his icy gaze unflinching and stood her ground, preparing for the inevitable insult.

"Look, boys," he said, addressing Crabbe and Goyle and surveying her up and down. "The Mudblood wanted me so bad that she attempted to actually look like a girl. How miserably she failed in this impossible task."

Hermione gave him a look of the deepest loathing, and Ron clenched his fists, beside himself with rage.

"Look, Malfoy," Ron snarled. "Since we got your dear daddy shoved into Azkaban, everyone knows what you and your family really are. So you must forgive Hermione if she doesn't cry her eyes out because a great git like you doesn't fancy her."

A flustered blushed pink as Harry howled with laughter in between a cross Hermione and seething Ron.

"Let's go," he muttered to his cronies, and he led them down to the Slytherin table, his nose in the air.

The trio laughed all the way to the Gryffindor table, ignoring the furious glowers Malfoy sent their way. As they took their seats and spooned out their breakfast, Hermione noticed how heavily Ron continued to breathe. His face was red, and he tried to calm himself. Hermione turned to him as compassion filled up inside of her. She leaned over and gave him a quick, one-armed hug and smiled, touched.

"Thanks, Ron."

"He can't keep treating you like that!" he muttered, looking into his breakfast. He stirred his porridge around dully, not raising it to his mouth.

"But he will," Hermione replied, taking a bite of her muffin. "I just appreciate that you defended me. You're a good friend, Ron."

"Thanks," Ron said, his ears burning again.

He avoided her gaze determinedly, and Hermione frowned, confused. Fortunately, Harry saw Ron's discomfort and changed the subject.

"Oh look. Here're our schedules."

Professor McGonagall walked briskly up to them and handed them each envelopes. The three thanked her and looked theirs over. The boys had Divination first. Harry looked up and groaned.

"If Trelawney's back, I'm faking sick all year!"

Both Ron and Hermione laughed understandingly. The boys complained for a while longer, and Hermione felt thankful she had dropped that old bat's class. She was relieved to see that Ron had finally begun to eat his breakfast. It felt normal and real again. Once they were finished, Hermione got to her feet and picked up her bag.

"I'll see you in Defense Against the Dark Arts, you two," she told them and headed to Arithmancy, flinging her bag over her shoulder yet again.

She was almost to the door when a seventh year had purposely thrown his book in her way. Startled, Hermione bent down to pick it up. She grunted in discomfort as her heavy bag slipped again and banged into her head, but she straightened up and gave the boy his books.

"Thanks," he breathed with a goofy look on his face.

"You're welcome," Hermione smiled warmly and continued out of the Great Hall, the seventh year staring at her the whole way.

Ron saw this action and shoved his plate away from him.

"I'm not so hungry anymore," he groaned, holding his stomach.

Harry couldn't help the smile that came to his lips as Ron shoved his books into his bag furiously, muttering darkly to himself.

He's got it bad, Harry thought. He gave a loud sigh and addressed Ron out loud.

"I wonder who our DADA teacher will be. He wasn't there last night, was he?"

Ron shook his head and replied, "I just hope Dumbledore picked someone normal this time. Although, I doubt that'll happen."

Harry silently agreed, remembering his past teachers. Together he and Ron made their way to the North Tower, one of them thinking of the new professor and the other of the dazzling sight of a very good friend.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Hermione sat in Professor Vector's Arithmancy class and tried to concentrate. For the first time in her life, she was bored. Vector reviewed lessons she had already learned and mastered. Her mind tried to focus her attention on her teacher, but it drifted to her best friends. Harry had seemed perfectly genial at breakfast, but she sensed something was wrong with Ron. And it wasn't just at the table. He had acted peculiar all summer, being normal one minute and then all formal the next. She thought it had gotten better the past few days, but his surliness and dull annoyance in the Great Hall confused her. Frowning in frustration, she decided it was merely a "guy" thing or simply a phase he would soon finish.

She sighed and looked out the window into the lovely day that enhanced Hogwarts's extraordinary beauty. She looked forward to Herbology when they could go outside for lessons. She enjoyed the sunshine warming the greenhouse and the sound of Professor Sprout's praises filling her ears. She smiled contentedly. She missed this place. She was so pleased to be back and have school to focus on; not just Harry and the Prophecy.

Two clunks of heavy books at her feet interrupted her thoughts. She glanced southward and saw two Arithmancy texts lying by her shoes. She peered up to find Ernie Macmillan and a boy from Hufflepuff staring at her dazed and dreamy-eyed. Confused as to how they could have dropped two heavy textbooks, she picked them up and handed each to its rightful owner.

"Thanks," they breathed much like the seventh year in the Great Hall.

Hermione gave them a half-smile and turned her attention back to Professor Vector, trying to ignore some of the stares that came her way. She supposed they wanted to ask questions about the Ministry like so many of her classmates. But, she didn't want to relive that again. She was glad when the bell rang, and she nearly ran for the Defense Against the Dark Arts room. People glanced at her funny and her brow furrowed, but smoothed when she met up with her friends. They waved at her, and she made her way to take a seat beside Harry.

"How was your first lesson?" Hermione asked them, pulling out her defense book.

"Trelawney's back," Harry moaned. "But, good news is she didn't predict my death!"

"Yeah," Ron smirked. "I think she's going for Neville now. After what happened in the Ministry, people think that he's been cursed or something."

Sure enough, Neville walked by looking extremely uneasy.

"I think a lot of people are talking about what happened at the Ministry," Hermione whispered, leaning forward. "I think we should prepare ourselves for questions. A lot of people have been giving me funny looks all day."

Ron opened his mouth to respond, but Harry interrupted him. He didn't want them to get into a fight right before class. Instead, he directed their attention to the room around them.

"Hey, have you noticed the new decorations?"

For the first time, Hermione scanned her surroundings. The room was different, as it always was when a new teacher occupied it. But this had a completely different feel. It was blood red and dark. Rather humid, the room gave off a masculine and hard aura. The shelves sported many different books and devises, and they were shocked to see that the walls held numerous moving photos of professional Quidditch teams. Ron rattled off team names and discussions with Seamus and Harry while Hermione continued to gaze around the room. She caught Lavender's watchful eye. Lavender gave her a smile and thumbs up. Hermione nodded solemnly and stared at the door, waiting expectantly for the teacher. After several minutes, the door knob turned and a tall, young man walked in.

He was athletic and strong, but slumped over a bit. His eyes were black, and he had deep and thick brown hair and eyebrows. He looked past a rather large nose and sullenly nodded to them while walking forward slightly duck-footed. Harry and Ron both felt a painful grip on their wrists. They turned to see Hermione, who was cutting off their circulation, with wide and wondrous eyes.

"Hermione?" Harry asked under his breath.

She let in a small gasp of surprise and glee as she gently whispered breathlessly, "Viktor."