To Be a Slytherin

A/N: Here you are, mates. A nice long chapter to keep you busy after your loooong wait (sorry). Mounting suspense! Is Miss Granger clever enough to figure out Malfoy's evil plan? Read for yourself and review, or Hermione will turn you into a toad. Heh-heh.

The Letter

Hermione Granger frowned, unable to put a finger on what was bothering her. Harry was actually okay for once, still exulting with the rest of Gryffindor about their victory against the Slytherins. Hermione marveled that the novelty of beating Slytherin had still not worn off for the enthusiastic players (and the rest of their house).

Malfoy had long since proven that while he might be an ace on a broomstick (the Firebolt III, bought especially for the team's Seeker by Lucius Malfoy), he didn't have the eye of a seeker. The rest of the Slytherin team relied mainly on putting the other team's players out of commission. Fortunately for Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw, Madam Hooch had the eyes of an eagle. Few fouls went unnoticed by her.

She sighed. At least Gryffindor's victory had taken Harry's mind from Voldemort's return for a little while. She hated seeing him so depressed. His depression stemmed from many things, including his feelings of guilt over the events of last year, especially Cedric's death. He tried valiantly to hide his remorse, since he didn't want to burden his friends. Didn't he know that they wanted to be burdened with his troubles?

But no, Hermione was not too worried about Harry tonight. Her other best friend Ron Weasley was also doing well, buoyed up by the euphoria that always came along with showing up that stupid prat Malfoy. It was something they never tired of. Hermione's two best friends were always spoiling for a fight, and Malfoy gave them plenty of opportunities. Hermione had hissed, "ignore them, ignore them," in their ears so many times, she had lost count. She also suspected they tuned her out deliberately. Lately, she had resorted to more practical means of restraining them.

These days, when Harry or Ron (it was usually Ron) tried to lunge at Malfoy, she just grabbed his arms and held him back. Harry was pretty manageable, and actually looked sheepish when Hermione pulled him back from smashing Malfoy's face in, but Ron was a different story.

It hadn't escaped Hermione's notice that while most of Malfoy's insults to Ron were directed at his family, the ones that really got him going had nothing to do with his family. Ron was always hardest to hold back when Malfoy made his usual snide comments about Mudbloods. For some reason, those particular insults annoyed Ron the most, turning him into a very angry, deadly monster.

In fact, his behavior reminded Hermione of a she-bear she and her father had seen once when out camping. It was the day before she received her acceptance letter from Hogwarts.

Hermione and her father were out camping in a lonely part of Wales, when a baby cub wandered into their camp. It was quite unafraid, and walked straight up to Mr. Granger, begging for food. Unfortunately, the cub's mother was also close by, and seeing her cub in the company of humans enraged her. She started charging down the hillside, directly at Hermione's father.

Hermione was still spooked, remembering the events of that afternoon. The bear hadn't wasted any time growling or putting on a display of power, just silently charged, looking murderous. Hermione's accidental magic had saved them. She later remembered rushing over to her father and chanting something under her breath, but she hadn't known what she was saying, or how it helped.

The bear cub grunted once and walked towards his mother. The mother stopped in mid-charge, licked her cub and walked off into the forest, never to give them any more trouble. Hermione and her father left straight away following the incident, and when they arrived home the next day, her acceptance letter was waiting.

Thinking about the bear now, she stifled a small giggle. Ignoring the curious stares from her fellow Gryffindors, Hermione tried to concentrate on her transfiguration homework (turning parchment into a quill, then back again), but failed. Her mind was returning to Ron. While he could look positively mutinous defending his family's honor, he only got that she-bear look when Malfoy had insulted Muggle-borns--Hermione in particular. Well, it made sense that he would get defensive about one of his friends. Too bad that he would never think of her as more than a friend--

Hermione forced her thoughts back to her homework. It was really difficult, far more advanced than anything she had tried before. Professor McGonagall had admitted to her that she usually reserved such advanced assignments for her sixth and seventh years. It wasn't part of the regular fifth-year coursework, naturally. Hermione had asked for some extra credit, feeling that the class wasn't challenging enough.

She wanted to keep her skills razor sharp, because the O.W.L.S. were coming up this year and she meant to take them all. Let Harry and Ron laugh if they would. They wouldn't laugh so hard later, when they came to her begging for help, one or two days before the exams.

"Things that are closely related are both easier and harder to transfigure than things which are not related," Professor McGonagall had stated, earlier that afternoon. "Transfiguring turtles into teapots is relatively easy, so I use that one for first and second year students. Turtles are similar to teapots in the right ways and dissimilar in the right ways as well. Do you understand?"

Hermione nodded, so the Professor went on.

"When you want to transfigure something--say a parchment, into something that is closely related to it--a quill for example, it is much more difficult to visualize the desired result. This is because the two things are so closely related, that it's hard to tell where the one thing ends and the other begins." She waited for Hermione's response, and was rewarded with a confused look.

"Professor? Quills and parchments are nothing like each other. So then why do you say they're closely related?"

"By reason of use, Miss Granger. Excellent question, as usual. Those particular two objects are used so often together and so infrequently apart, that they have become almost inseparable in most people's minds. If I asked you to say the first word that came to mind when I said 'quill', what would it be?"

"Parchment," Hermione replied, without hesitation. "Ah, I think I begin to see what you mean, Professor McGonagall. This is going to take some time."

"Take all the time you need," her teacher assured her. "Since it's extra credit, you can just turn it in whenever you finish it, although I'll need it before the O.W.L.S. of course."

Hermione sighed and stuffed a slightly battered piece of parchment that had sprouted wings back into her book-bag. She had somehow managed to bring it to life without meaning to, and now she could hear the muffled sounds of her 40^th failure beating its wings against her bag, a futile gesture, since the bag was practically invincible.

In her third year, Hermione had taken way more classes than she could reasonably handle. Professor McGonagall had given her a time-turner so she could take all the classes that she wanted, but it hadn't done anything to ease the extra load in her book-bag. Things had come to a head that awful day when someone had bumped into her, causing her bag to burst open, spilling her books, ink, and quills everywhere.

Following that unfortunate incident, Hermione had gone to the library, researching spells that kept her bag strong enough to carry about two tons worth of books (not that even she would carry that many!). It also had a locking charm on it, which prevented anyone from breaking in and stealing her notes, which were quite a popular item, especially the night before exams. Hermione wondered briefly about Malfoy's demonstration in class, and if his notes were popular. She snorted to herself. He probably sold them for ridiculously high prices. A pound of flesh--that would be just like him.

It wasn't fair! It had been so easy for Malfoy to show off his skills in front of the entire class. Hermione wasn't sure why Professor McGonagall had wanted Malfoy to demonstrate that particular Transfiguration. It was an extra credit project, and as far as she knew, Hermione had been the only one to take it on. Except Malfoy, apparently. Professor McGonagall had probably been trying to embarrass Malfoy for not paying attention in class. It had sure backfired, though. Malfoy was more of a student than Hermione had given him credit for.

Just now, Hermione was done with study. She was a week ahead in all of her classes anyway, except for Defense Against the Dark Arts. It was taking all her concentration to keep up in that class. Professor Lupin had returned to Hogwarts by popular demand of (surprise!) the parents. Lupin had resigned from his position after the knowledge that he was a werewolf became public. He was sure that the parents of the students would hate him and fear for their children's safety.

Professor Lupin had only agreed to come back when Dumbledore showed him over one hundred fervent letters from various parents who were furious with Dumbledore for 'firing' Lupin.

Dumbledore had even received a couple of Howlers from an irate Mrs. Weasley who thought mistakenly that Lupin had been fired for being a werewolf. Her children corrected her and she owled Dumbledore with a sheepish apology.

Hermione walked to the Portrait Hole of the Gryffindor common room, and climbed out. Harry and Ron didn't notice her leave, being totally engrossed in a game of chess. Harry was losing, as usual.

Her feet knew the way to the library well, and Hermione let her thoughts wander until she reached the first staircase. The staircases liked to change frequently, and Hermione had learned from experience to be watchful. If you didn't watch were you were going, you could end up like a smashed bug on the floor below. It was a long way down, and she didn't fancy the idea of falling all that way.

She reached the library with no incident, and automatically walked to her favorite chair, which often served as her thinking spot. In her mind, she went over the letter again. 'Quidditch is a dangerous sport', her anonymous admirer had said. What kind of admirer would threaten her friends?

She wished she could perform a charm on the note to reveal the writer, but that was impossible. The moment she had finished reading it, the letter had exploded into fine ash, and drifted down to settle on the floor. She noticed Professor McGonagall's disapproving look, but hardly cared because she had been so startled herself.

Making a letter behave like that was very advanced magic, she knew. In fact, she doubted that it was taught in Hogwarts at all. It felt to her suspiciously like Dark Magic, if for no other reason than the fact that it looked disturbingly like removing evidence. But evidence of what? It was all very confusing......

With a start Hermione looked up and realized that she had fallen asleep. Madam Pince was standing over her, a quizzical expression on the usually sour face. Madam Pince was usually gruff to any student who entered the inner sanctum that was her library. But she had taken to Hermione, because she recognized Hermione's deep love and respect for books, and for learning in general.

"Miss Granger, I would advise you to get downstairs before they clear away dinner. It's quite late. Also, I'm shutting the library early today to take inventory. Get on with you now, you don't want to miss your dinner." The old, thin woman shooed a slightly flustered Hermione away. Hermione realized that she had been sitting in the library sleeping for over two hours. She scooted into her place at the Gryffindor table just in time to snatch a piece of bread and a glass of pumpkin juice before the house elves magicked the food away.