Commonplace
The fire crackled in the fireplace. Only a handful of people were in the common room.
Hermione sat on the couch with a book propped open. Kathleen was leaning on her shoulder, sound asleep.
The door for the common room opened up. A first year that she did not know came in followed by a familiar head of white hair.
Abraxas saw them and came over. His eyes sparkled when they landed on Kathleen.
He put a hand underneath her shoulder to hold up her wait. Hermione slipped out so that he could take her place. This had become so commonplace that Hermione no longer blinked at it.
Kathleen soundlessly snored, unaware of what was happening around her. Abraxas slipped a hand over her shoulder and gently ran his hand over her hair.
Seeing them like this always put a flutter in her heart. It was so weird to see a Malfoy act like this but it put her at ease.
Kathleen and Abraxas had become her closest friends since her journey back in time. She knew that there will come a time when all of this will end but she prayed that these two will continue on like this even after she was gone.
Ignatius and Septimus slinked down from the staircase that led to the boys' rooms. They took one glance at the two lovebirds and snickered.
"Don't know why you are snickering when you are about to do the same, if not more intimate," Abraxas teased them in a soft whisper, trying not to wake the sleeping girl in his arms.
"We look cooler," Ignatius shot back.
"You two look cheap," Hermione butted in. She watched as their faces twitched, trying to hold in their laughter. In her honest opinion, Abraxas did look cool. She wished Ron had been like this. Maybe she could mold him into a sweeter version once she arrives back to her own time.
"I heard Riddle was in a foul mood. Lost another mark thanks to Hermione. Don't get caught," Abraxas warned the two eager boys.
They saluted to Abraxas before heading out. It wasn't her fault if she was used to more advanced studies. Riddle will just have to get better if wants to top her score.
Moaning Myrtle
"Ugh," Kathleen shivered. "How can you stand going in there. I know the girl just died last year but she is so not hip."
"It's just Moaning Myrtle," said Hermione. "She is just really annoying but that is easy to ignore."
"What's easy to ignore?" Abraxas appeared from around the corner.
"The ghost in the bathroom," explained Kathleen. She turned to Hermione, "that is an accurate name for her."
"Are you talking about Myrtle Warren. For some reason, everyone hated her but I thought she was alright."
Kathleen glared at him. Abraxas may have just unintentionally dug himself a grave. "I never knew you talked to her.'
"Uh..." he seemed to have realized the mistake he made. "Once or twice during a school project."
Abraxas looked toward the bathroom that Hermione had just come out of. "I've heard a lot of people talking about her ghost. It's kind of sad, since she has only been gone a year."
Kathleen glanced down, looking as if someone had stolen her favorite snack. "Yeah," she mumbled.
"So, what did you call her?"
"Moaning Myrtle," answered Hermione.
"They still haven't found the killer," said Abraxas. He moved a bit closer to Kathleen as if he were going to protect her from danger.
"They will," said Hermione with conviction. It will take a while, but the killer will eventually be found and killed by Harry.
Hermione shuddered. She just realized that she was in Hogwarts during a time that the basilisk was still alive. She really hated that thing.
Vulnerable
Hermione grabbed her bag that was already filled with the books that she would need. It was currently the start of the weekend and time for her to do an ample amount of studying.
She walked down the corridors, navigating the staircases until she came upon the library. She walked through the doors with a smile on her face. This was the one place besides her room that she felt at home. Albeit, it was one where she was likely to stumble upon Riddle.
It was just last week that she had made the preposterous remark about them treating each other like siblings. It was brought about by the strange and uncanny circumstances surrounding the fact that Dippet's adopted daughter had met and was even considering adopting Riddle.
Hermione came upon her favorite seat in the library to find it already occupied. Riddle was bent over with his nose in a book. His long legs were crossed over top of each other. Without acknowledging her, he continued on reading.
She plopped down in the seat across from him. This scene was so familiar to her that she was no longer bothered by it. Pulling out her books, she leaned down and began reading.
Marking the page, she straightened up and stretched out her shoulders. A resounding crack filled the silence, releasing her neck and shoulders from the tightness that had momentarily overtaken them.
Glancing over at Riddle gave her a shocking view that she never thought she would see. The book laid open in his lap, long forgotten. Riddle was slumped back in his chair with his eyes closed. His long lashes casted shadows across his cheeks and his chest rose with long, deep breaths.
This was the first time that she had ever seen Riddle asleep. He looked like some normal, handsome boy that belonged on the cover of a magazine, not that she ever bothered to read many magazines. But more than anything, he looked completely vulnerable.
Winning Favors
"Why have you not given an invitation to Miss Norris?" Tom asked their Potions Professor.
"My dinner parties are for the young minds who can change the future," answered Professor Slughorn. "I do not believe Miss Norris meets the requisite, though she is a talented student."
Tom was starting to see that the boggish ideals of this bumbling professor were useless and wasted. Tom believed that recognition should come to whoever deserved it, no matter how annoying and nosy they were.
"In other words, it is because she is a woman," Tom sighed, sounding as if he was disappointed with his favorite professor.
"N-now, I did not say that!" came the bumbling reply. Slughorn's face was starting to turn splotchy and red.
Tom may have taken this too far. It would not be ideal to lose favor with this simple minded fool. Before he could utter words of an apology, the professor continued. "Fine. I will invite Miss Norris to the next dinner party. If she is unable to grasp our cultural and intellectual conversations then she will not be invited to another. Even if she is the Headmaster's granddaughter."
"Thank you. I can guarantee that you will not be disappointed." Tom offered a quick bow to Slughorn before leaving. It should have irked him that he held such confidence in Miss Norris, a boorish Gryffindor, but it surprisingly did not. Even he had to recognize her brilliance which was why this little orchestra was important.
If he could get her into Slughorn's private group, he might be able to win favors with her. It would be ideal to have such a talented witch on his side.