Roommates

Chapter One

The Beginning

As she was hurrying to class, she turned a corner abruptly and ran into someone's large, broad form.

"Watch it," he said, extending a hand to help her up.

She looked up and was about to thank him when she noticed he was a Slytherin. Her eyes sped upwards, and she saw who it was. "What do you want, Zabini?" she asked suspiciously.

He held his hands up. "I don't want anything, Gryffette," he said, a smirk crossing his face.

"Really?" she asked rhetorically, raising an eyebrow. "Now, if you would kindly move..."

"I've been wanting to set up a meeting anyway, Granger," he said, flipping his Head Boy badge in her face. She retaliated by showing him her Head Girl badge.

"Really?" Hermione asked again, doubting that was what this was really about. "When?" She hoisted her bag onto her shoulder firmly.

The boy raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you being sarcastic?" he asked, letting out a small laugh. He held up a hand to block out her response. "No, don't answer that. I'm only here as a messenger. Dumbledore wants us in his office in an hour, ok?" With that, he turned around and walked away.

"What the...? Did I do something wrong? Or is something the matter?" Hermione muttered, hoisting her bag more securely on her shoulder. She shook her head and walked towards the Headmaster's office. It would take a while to get there since she was on the opposite end of the castle. She muttered something unkind directed towards the extremely long hallways and many staircases.

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About two minutes before the start of the meeting, she arrived in front of the griffin. Glaring at it, she tapped her wand on its nose three times.

"Warm vanilla sugar," she said. The griffin hopped off its pedestal and she went up the stairs that were behind it. She opened the door to Dumbledore's office and went in.

Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, chatting with Blaise Zabini. He looked up and smiled at Hermione. "Ah, Ms Granger," he said. "Welcome."

Blaise coughed and in that cough was the phrase, "About time."

Hermione glared at her counter part. "Good afternoon, professor. Is there something wrong?"

"Not at all, Ms Granger. Please take a seat and I will explain everything," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Thank you. The faculty and I have decided upon much deliberation that the Head Boy and Girl --you two-- will be rooming together for the remainder of the year." He coughed, obviously trying not to laugh. "We thought it would be a good example of inter-House unity, and we expect it will catch on among the rest of the school, since they will follow the example of their excellent Head Boy and Girl."

"Lovely," Blaise said, smiling rather lazily. "Fantastic idea, professor. When do we move?"

Hermione sat in shock.

Dumbledore beamed. "I think so, Mr. Zabini. You two will move into your new quarters this afternoon."

"What?" Hermione asked, finally shaken from her speechlessness.

"While I'm sure that this is a shock, it is for the better of the school. We are in dangerous times, and this is a pre-emptive attempt of warding off many things that are evil." He looked over his glasses at Hermione, who gulped and nodded. "That will be all," Dumbledore said. "I'm sure that you two have classes to get to. You're dismissed."

They left, and Hermione stood in the hallway for a moment. "Zabini!" she exclaimed. "This is all your fault!" She advanced on him, poking his chest with her forefinger as she went. "You could've said something, you could've said anything else!" She glared at him and shook her head, defeated.

"Granger," he said, amusement plain in his voice. "Really. Like I can hold off the entire faculty of Hogwarts." A smirk-like grin spread over his face. "I can only manage one or two, at best."

She sniffed at him and walked away down the opposite end of the hall, intent on her coming History of Magic class.

"See you in Potions!" he called after her.

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At one o'clock, Hermione, Harry and Ron plodded down the numerous staircases to the dungeons and their Potions class. They and the rest of the Gryffindors filed in, sitting on their side of the classroom as the Slytherins sniffed at them in distaste from where they had been sitting.

Snape swept in and surveyed them with a critical eye. "Welcome," he said menacingly, "to my seventh year N.E.W.T. level potions course. Some of you will not make the grade," a snide smirk crossed his features as his gaze settled on Neville Longbottom. "And some of you will exceed it." His eyes flicked towards Draco Malfoy. "Make no mistake, however, that I will tolerate any mistakes that I treated so kindly over the last six years. This year, that changes. Make any mistake --any at all-- and I guarantee you that you will fail. Horribly." His smirk grew. "With that, I will pair you up into partners for your term project. About the project, I will assign you a topic, and you and your partner will write a ten-foot long scroll on the findings you made and your notes on the procedure of making the potion. Was it hard, do you think the procedure should be revised, et cetera. Now, without any interruptions," he looked sharply at Ron, "I shall assign your partners. Weasley, you're with Parkinson, Potter and Nott, Malfoy and Longbottom, Granger and Zabini..."

Hermione's gaze and attention instantly shifted from the professor to Blaise, who was somehow lounging on his stool, gazing mirthfully up at her, smirk playing across his lips. She sighed, and picked up her bag. Walking over to his table, she saw her fellow Gryffindors sullenly make their way to work with the Slytherins. She stopped in front of the table at which Zabini was sitting.

"Well?" he asked, sitting up. "What's keeping you, Granger? Sit down, then."

She sat, but not because he said so; because Professor Snape was walking up the aisle, bearing down on them, a piece of parchment in his hand. He stopped in front of their table and glanced at his parchment. "Ah, Zabini and Granger," he said, lip curling, "you will be researching the Endless Love potions."

"Potions, sir?" Hermione asked, looking slightly confused.

"Yes, you heard me Granger, potions," snapped Snape.

"What my partner meant to say, sir," Blaise cut in smoothly, "is, why do we have two? Surely there is a reason, seeing as it's you." He smiled amiably, and Snape bought it.

"You have two, Zabini," he said, resting his elbow on the table, "because there is a male and female version to this potion. Only one will affect men, only one will affect women. This is due the first Potions class of second term. No exceptions." He swept onward, and Blaize turned to Hermione.

Blaise raised his eyebrows smoothly at Hermione. "You see, Granger, why you should let me handle Snape?" he said, smiling at her charmingly.

Hermione didn't even bother to respond as she pulled out her carefully written notes from the books she had read over the summer and looked over each page for a mention of the Endless Love potion. Forty-five minutes passed without her finding anything.

Snape's voice interrupted her concentration as the professor dismissed the class.

"Well, Granger," Blaise said, already gathering his notes and quill from the table, "I've got to go. I'll meet you in the library around five, though. In the Potions section." He got up, smoothly swinging his bag on his shoulder and walked out of the dungeon.

Hermione growled at his quickly disappearing form. "How dare he!" she muttered, walking with Ron and Harry, who were moaning about their partners. "How DARE he!" She stomped her foot and ran all the way to the Prefects bathroom, where she planned to have a relaxing afternoon in the tub, reading. She flicked her wand at it. "Peppermint scrubs." The door opened, and she went inside. As the door shut behind her, she went over to the little panel beside the doorway and pressed a little red button that signified that the bathroom was occupied.

She turned and dumped her bag and clothes on the floor and sank into the shallow end of the sunken bathtub, which was almost full with steaming, cinnamon-smelling water. She picked her wand up and summoned Hogwarts, A History, leaned back and started to read her favorite book.

About ten minutes into her revelry, someone started banging on the door. She frowned, frustrated.

"WHAT?" Hermione yelled.

"GET OUT OF THE BATH!" yelled Blaise.

"UGH!" she exclaimed, putting the book down and wrapping herself in a bathrobe. She stalked over to the door and opened it, glaring at Zabini. "What, may I ask, do you want?"

He looked at her, grinning. He, too, was in a bathrobe, with a towel draped over his shoulder. "I want to take a bath," he said simply.

"Hard luck," she snapped, slamming the door shut in his face. She pressed the locking button again and went back to her bath.

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Blaise stood outside of the Prefect's bath stunned. All he had ever heard of Hermione Granger was that she usually was very nice and congenial. Not to mention that she would cave to people when put under pressure. Undoubtedly, this was a rumor put out by Gryffindors who wanted to see Hermione express her rage against someone else, for a change. Preferably a Slytherin.

He shook his head and went back to the Slytherin baths, intent on a bath, even if it wasn't in a secluded place.

Relaxing in the steaming water, he thought about how people had been shocked when he was chosen for Head Boy over Potter, Weasley and Malfoy. He didn't know why Dumbledore chose him, but he wasn't about to ask. The old man frequently had some odd reason that usually could be explained, after much deliberation and experience. He smirked when he remembered the expression on Malfoy's face when he had found out who was Head Boy. After all, Blaise hadn't been a Prefect. Why did Dumbledore choose him? Malfoy had been irate ever since the beginning of the school year, which had just started. Blaise doubted he would get over the anger soon. Until then, he'd stay out of Malfoy's way.

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When Hermione exited the bathroom, she glanced at her watch. It read 4:45. She gulped. Her meeting with Zabini was in fifteen minutes. She would have to run.

She ran all the way to the library, having to dodge Filch and jump over a five-foot gap of moving staircase to make it. Skidding into the library, she smiled at Madame Pince, who nodded at her and walked calmly into the Potions section. Zabini was sitting on an armchair at the very back, feet crossed on top of the table.

"Granger," he said, taking his eyes off his watch, "you are just in time." He motioned towards another armchair. "Sit." She sat. "Now, since we'll be living together from now on," he started, "I though we might as well put some ground rules down."

"Wonderful idea," Hermione said, placing her bag on the table. "But before we do, Zabini, where are the new quarters?"

"Ah." Zabini held up a finger. "The Headmaster said he'd come find us at around seven to show us the new quarters. He also said that all of our things would be there when we arrived."

"Okay."

"Anyway, on with the rules. Number one, no sleepovers with members of the same or opposite sex. This applies to both of us, not just you." Hermione opened her mouth, maybe to protest, but Blaise shook his head, a teasing smiled spreading across his face. "I was just joking Granger."

"Fine, Zabini," Hermione said shortly. "No 'objectionable' friends. That means Malfoy."

"And Potter and Weasley," pointed out Blaise. "Even though I, personally, have never done anything to them, they would make my life a living hell if they were in our quarters all the time simply because I happen to be a Slytherin."

"True," Hermione said, nodding.

They sat for two more hours before finally agreeing on ten rules that they could both follow. By the time they had finished and were going to do homework on their Potions project, Professor Dumbledore had arrived and was standing looking at them.

"Mr. Zabini, Ms Granger, if you would be so kind as to come with me?" Dumbledore asked, motioning to them. They got up and walked for about a quarter mile through twisting corridors and several staircases before they arrived in front of a painting of the four Founders, who were bickering with each other about the tapestries. "GODRIC, SALAZAR, ROWENA, AND HELGA!" yelled Dumbledore, voice magically enhanced. They turned.

"What is it, Albus?" Helga asked, a dimple appearing in her sun burnt skin.

"I have the Head Boy and Girl here to move into these chambers," Dumbledore said.

"You can't do that!" Salazar protested. "These were our private chambers! We don't want some silly students in them!"

"Yeah," Godric said sarcastically, "but you weren't allowed to leave a huge, deadly, buggering mean snake in the basement, were you?" Salazar flushed and mumbled something, turning back to the parchment in front of him. Godric turned back to Dumbledore. "Of course it's all right, Albus. In fact, I think it'll be a learning experience for them." He looked at Hermione and Blaise. "Have fun. But remember, all of the stuff in there is ours, so try not to break it. Also, we've left a number of personal things in there that you might find interesting." He winked, and looked at Dumbledore again. "They won't need a password," Godric said, "I'll just let them in."

Dumbledore smiled as the painting swung open and they went through it.