Hermione woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly energized. She'd managed no more than four hours of sleep, but the lack of dreams left her oddly refreshed, as if her mind had granted her a rare reprieve from its usual turmoil. Today was the first official day of classes, and the thought of plunging back into structured learning filled her with anticipation.
She dressed quickly, donning her crisp uniform and robes, then grabbed her bag. As she stepped into the common room, she stopped short at the sight of Draco Malfoy. He was seated on the edge of the couch but stood abruptly when he noticed her.
"Morning," he greeted, his tone almost... polite.
Hermione blinked. "Good morning," she replied, wary but civil.
"Are you heading to breakfast?" he asked, a small, tentative smile tugging at his lips.
She raised a brow, scrutinizing him for any hint of mockery. "Yes…"
"Would you mind if I joined you? Just until we get there," he added, his voice softer now, almost uncertain.
Hermione hesitated, her thoughts racing. Malfoy hadn't been outwardly unpleasant since their return to Hogwarts, but this friendliness was... unexpected. Still, Dumbledore had always emphasized forgiveness and second chances. Perhaps she ought to try.
"Sure, why not?" she said finally, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "Hurry up, though, or we'll be late."
He nodded and quickly fell into step beside her.
They walked in silence through the corridors, their footsteps echoing in the quiet. Hermione was acutely aware of the weight of his presence, the occasional shift of his gaze toward her. She never caught him staring directly, but the sensation lingered, prickling at her awareness. More disconcerting, though, were the looks from other students.
She could feel them, curious, skeptical, and occasionally hostile – following her and Malfoy as they passed. Some whispered behind cupped hands; others simply gawked. Hermione held her head high, determined not to let the scrutiny bother her. After all, wasn't this exactly what the Headmaster wanted? For them to set an example, to show the rest of the school that unity was possible, even after the war?
It wasn't easy, though. The animosity still clung to Hogwarts like a stubborn fog, especially toward Slytherins. So many of them had been touched by the dark side – through their families, their choices, or both. But Hermione had always believed in fairness. It wasn't right to punish children for their parents' mistakes. Most of them, she thought, were just trying to move forward, like the rest of them.
And maybe, just maybe, that's what Malfoy was trying to do, too.
As they approached the Great Hall, Hermione glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He looked straight ahead, his expression neutral but guarded. It was strange, walking side by side with him like this, as if they were... equals. She wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to it. But for now, she could tolerate his company.
For now.
When they reached their destination, she saw groups of students leaning in to whisper, their eyes flicking toward them. The sensation of being the subject of their gossip was undeniable. Even at the staff table, she noticed people staring. The only person who did not seem interested by this new development was, of course, professor Snape.
Malfoy noticed the stares and whispers as well, but he did not seem to pay them any attention. He did however turn to face her, and with a short nod and small smile, he went to take his place at the center of the Slytherin table. Hermione then walked to her seat in front of Ginny's, next to Neville.
Hermione ate in silence, but a few minutes later, Ginny broke the silence "Um... Hermione? Why is Malfoy staring at you?"
Hermione raised her eyes from her plate and replied without turning her head to see him "He is? Well, I don't know what's gotten into him. He acted a bit strange this morning too".
"Maybe he likes you," Ginny said with a smirk.
Hermione rolled her eyes at that "He does not, I assure you, Ginny." The truth was, she couldn't say for sure how anyone felt – she only knew what she felt herself. And the idea of him liking her in any way didn't stir any emotions in her. For one, because he was Draco Malfoy, the boy that came from a wealthy family of snobby, arrogant pure-bloods who looked down on everyone else. Second, she and Ron were in a relationship, even though the distance sometimes made it more difficult to stay connected.
"Actually," Ginny started, "I'm not sure he likes anyone but himself. Or maybe it's possible, now that he is changed as you said it"
"I'm sure there is someone he fancies, but I highly doubt it's me." Hermione told her firmly. After all, changed or not, that did not change her blood status and she knew the Malfoys still cared about that.
Ginny laughed and then added "Yes, maybe you're right."
Hermione only narrowed her eyes at the other girl and then turned to Neville who was sitting quietly in his chair. "Oh, Neville, I'm so happy that at least you returned to Hogwarts!" It had seemed that even though the three of them were not present during their final year, the people who were did not get to have a normal year also, hence the need to return and repeat the year. Of course, not everyone decided to do that, but there were quite a few people from each house who returned. If it had been only Hermione, she would have probably started the year together with Ginny, but now, there was a special group of older seventh years who were repeating the year as well as the actual seventh years'.
"Well, my grandma says that I should finish my education, and plus, I want to start my apprenticeship in Herbology next year so I probably need to finish my studies for that to happen." Neville replied.
"An apprenticeship! Oh, Nev, I'm so glad to hear that! I was thinking about one too, but I don't think Herbology is my thing, though." Hermione also replied laughingly.
"That's great, Hermione! Do you know what you plan on pursuing?" He was genuinely enthusiastic.
"Not really, no. I think it's between Transfiguration, Charms, or... Potions with you know… Snape." she had to lean in and whisper that last part, she did not want anyone to hear her.
"Potions?" Neville asked in surprise. It was no secret that he was terrified by professor Snape since first year, but Hermione thought that he got over it." But Hermione, you're not going to choose Potions, aren't you? I mean, It's Snape we're talking about. Do you really want to spend most of your time with the bat of the dungeons?"
At that, Hermione's gaze flicked toward the teacher's table. To her surprise, she caught Professor Snape looking in their direction, his usual scowl firmly in place. Her stomach twisted for a moment. Had he overheard them? Or worse – was he reading their minds? No, she reasoned quickly, that wasn't how Legilimency worked, at least not from what she had read on the subject. Still, the thought made her uneasy.
Then another possibility struck her. Perhaps Snape's foul mood had nothing to do with their current conversation and everything to do with the previous evening. Hermione suppressed a grin at the memory. He had clearly been waiting to deduct points or assign her detention for being out after curfew, but she'd managed to evade him entirely. She couldn't help feeling a touch of pride at how well she'd handled it. She was sure she made the right decision to ask Harry for his Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map.
Her train of thought was interrupted as Neville spoke again, his voice tinged with disbelief. "You're really considering Potions?"
Hermione turned back to him, determined not to dwell too much on Snape or her narrow escape the night before. "It's just a thought, Neville," she admitted, brushing off his concern with a small shrug. "I know it won't be easy, but… well, he is one of the best in his field."
Neville gave her a dubious look but didn't press further. Hermione, however, couldn't help but glance back at the head table once more. Snape was no longer looking their way, but the ghost of his scowl seemed to linger in the air, making her wonder if she'd underestimated just how perceptive he could be.
"Yes, he probably is," he finally admitted "but he is still Snape. The man lives for making other people uncomfortable!" Neville shook his head.
"Oh, Nev..." Hermione started slowly. She wished she could explain to him what professor Snape had done for them over the years, but Harry made them promise they wouldn't tell anyone else. She was sure not even Ginny was actually aware. "you can't possibly still be afraid of the man!" Neville leaned back in his chair with a small blush on his face. "You need to get over your fear, Neville. You slayed the Dark Lord's Horcrux, Nagini, the beast that almost killed him, and you are still afraid of the man?" Hermione told him, trying to make him feel more confident in himself and seemed to have succeeded. The boy was smiling proudly, but when his eyes met Snape's, Neville forgot about his heroic actions and went back to his Snape Phobia.
Hermione sighed at his visible discomfort and then promised with a smile on her face "Don't worry, Neville, you will get over your fear, eventually and I will try my best to help you."
Neville smiled shyly at that. "Thank you, Hermione." and then returned to his food, but seemed to have lost his appetite by the way he was playing with his fork on the plate. "I wish I didn't have to study Potions anymore, but it's necessary for my career path."
"Neville," Ginny began with a sly grin, leaning forward in her seat, "what's going on with you and Luna? Are the two of you… you know… together?"
Neville's face turned an alarming shade of red, and he immediately began fidgeting with the edge of his robe. "W-Well," he stammered, clearly caught off guard, "I think Luna is a very… unique person, and… I like her. But, um… no, I haven't asked her if she'd want to be my girlfriend. I'm not sure if I should say anything…"
As he trailed off, his gaze flicked toward the Ravenclaw table, where Luna sat, serenely buttering a slice of toast as though the world couldn't touch her.
Ginny clapped her hands together, beaming at his admission. "Neville, that's wonderful! I'm so happy for you! And listen, I know she's different from most girls, but that's part of what makes her so amazing. And you, Neville, are a very handsome, brave, and intelligent wizard. Luna would be incredibly lucky to have you as her boyfriend."
Hermione nodded in agreement, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Ginny's absolutely right, Neville! Don't doubt yourself so much – you're incredible."
Neville glanced away from Luna and turned back to the girls, still a bit pink in the face but smiling shyly. "Do you really think so?" he asked hesitantly.
"Yes!" Ginny and Hermione exclaimed in unison, before bursting into laughter.
Neville's shoulders relaxed slightly, and a small, hopeful smile tugged at his lips. "Maybe I'll… think about saying something to her," he mumbled, mostly to himself, but the girls exchanged a satisfied look.
A few minutes later, it was time to part ways. Hermione and Neville headed off together to their Transfiguration class, while Ginny made her way to Charms with Professor Flitwick.
As Ginny walked through the bustling corridors, she spotted Luna ahead, her long, silvery hair swaying as she moved. "Luna!" Ginny called, hurrying to catch up with her friend.
Luna turned, her usual dreamy smile brightening her face. "Good morning, Ginny."
"Good morning! Let's walk to class together," Ginny suggested, falling into step beside her. The two girls chatted and laughed as they made their way to the Charms classroom, their conversation as light and effortless as always.
Hermione spent her day weaving through the winding corridors of Hogwarts, shuttling from one class to the next. By the time she was heading to her final class of the day, Potions, her legs ached from traversing the castle's seemingly endless staircases. As she turned a corner near the Great Hall, she spotted Harriet, the little Hufflepuff first-year she'd helped the previous evening. The girl was standing in the middle of the corridor, her wide eyes scanning the space around her like she'd fallen into a maze.
"Hi, Harriet," Hermione greeted warmly, stepping closer. "Are you lost again?"
The girl nodded timidly, her cheeks flushing pink.
"Have you finished your classes?" Hermione asked gently.
"No," Harriet murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I still have Transfiguration, but… I can't find my way."
Hermione's heart softened. "Don't worry, I'll help you get there in no time!" she promised with a reassuring smile.
As they walked together, Hermione couldn't help but recall her own first days at Hogwarts. The memory was bittersweet. She had been eager to prove herself, but making friends had been a challenge. In those early days, she often found solace in the library or buried beneath her blankets, losing herself in books to stave off the sting of loneliness. It was only when Harry and Ron finally let her in that everything changed. She hoped Harriet wouldn't have to endure the same struggles.
They reached the Transfiguration classroom just as other students were filing in. "There you go," Hermione said, smiling down at the younger girl. "Don't be afraid to ask for help, all right?"
Harriet nodded, her expression a mixture of gratitude and shyness. Hermione gave her a quick wave and turned to leave, but as she glanced at her watch, panic set in – she had only four minutes to get to the dungeons for Potions! Her heart leapt into her throat as she realized she'd have to run. She briefly considered waiting for Professor McGonagall to write her a note, but time was slipping away. She knew Hogwarts like the back of her hand, and if she hurried, she might just make it.
Hermione dashed through the castle, her bag bouncing against her side. By the time she reached the Potions classroom door, she was breathless and flushed. The corridor was empty – a clear sign that the students had already been let inside. She could hear the faint murmur of voices beyond the heavy door, and relief washed over her. She was late, but not by much.
Pushing the door open quickly, she slipped inside as the other students were still settling into their seats. She scanned the room and exhaled with relief when she didn't see Snape at the front of the classroom. Hermione moved toward Neville, who had saved her usual spot in the front row, but before she could sit down, a cold, drawling voice stopped her in her tracks.
"Late already, Miss Granger?"
Her stomach twisted as she turned to see Professor Snape stepping out from the shadows near the door. He moved to the front of the classroom, his dark robes billowing behind him, and fixed her with a withering glare.
"I'm sorry, sir," Hermione began, her voice faltering. "I was –" She cut herself off. There was no use making excuses; she knew Snape wouldn't care for them.
"You were...?" Snape prompted, his tone sharp and impatient.
She met his gaze, standing a little straighter. "Late, sir. I'm sorry I was late."
A sneer curled at the corner of his lips. "How considerate of you to acknowledge the obvious." His eyes narrowed. "We will discuss this after class, Miss Granger. Now, take your seat and turn to page 234."
"Yes, sir," Hermione replied quietly, quickly making her way to her seat beside Neville. She fumbled to open her textbook as the rest of the class fell silent.
Snape leaned against his desk, his dark eyes sweeping across the room. When he finally began speaking, Hermione felt the tension ease slightly. Still, the promise of their "discussion" after class lingered in her mind, making it hard to focus.
"As most of you know," Snape began, his dark eyes sweeping over the room like a hawk surveying its prey, "the potions we will focus on brewing this year are the most difficult you will ever attempt." His voice was sharp, commanding, and he paced slowly between the rows of workstations, his black robes billowing behind him.
"Throughout the year, however, there will be exceptions," he continued, stopping abruptly to fix his gaze on a pale, trembling Gryffindor. "Fail to pass those exceptions, and you will not have the opportunity to brew the more advanced potions. It is as simple as that."
The room was silent, tense.
"I know most of you have had the dubious honor of studying under Professor Slughorn," Snape said, his lip curling slightly as he glanced in Hermione's direction. She stiffened. She hadn't been there for Slughorn's final year, and Snape clearly knew it. "However, I know for a fact that none of you managed to successfully brew a single potion of real significance under his watch. Professor Slughorn was… profoundly disappointed by the lot of you."
He let the words hang in the air, his eyes gliding over the students. Not one dared meet his gaze.
"Anyone care to explain what will happen if you cannot brew these particular potions in class?" Snape asked as he strode to the front of the room, turning sharply to face them.
Hermione's fingers twitched, the urge to raise her hand almost irresistible. But she refrained, her chest tight as she kept her eyes glued to the front of the classroom. She waited, willing someone else to answer. When no one did, the silence stretched uncomfortably.
Snape sighed, exasperated. "Miss Granger," he drawled, his tone dripping with impatience. "Don't be shy. I'm sure you have a few ideas in mind. Care to enlighten the class?"
Hermione's heart sank. She glanced up at him, frustration bubbling beneath her carefully composed expression. His methods infuriated her – ignoring her when she volunteered but pouncing the moment she didn't. No matter what she did, it felt like the wrong choice.
"Yes, sir," she replied, her voice steady despite her irritation. "If we do not have the opportunity to brew these advanced potions here, in a controlled environment, under the guidance of an experienced Potions Master, with access to the school's ingredients, we cannot possibly begin to understand how to do so on our own."
Her words hung in the air, and though Hermione knew her answer was correct, a knot of worry tightened in her stomach. She couldn't help but think of students like Neville. He was here because he had to be, not because he excelled in Potions. For him and others, failing to meet Snape's high standards could mean hindering their future prospects altogether.
Snape studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. She held her breath, half expecting him to pick apart her reasoning. But to her surprise, he gave a small, curt nod.
"Correct, Miss Granger," he said at last. "Though, I would have preferred a more succinct explanation."
Hermione bit back a retort, her frustration simmering just below the surface.
Snape continued, addressing the entire class now. "For today's lesson, you will attempt to brew the simple Wiggenweld Potion. Page 234 in your textbooks. You may begin."
Chairs scraped against the stone floor as students hurriedly retrieved their materials. Hermione flipped to the designated page in her book, but her mind wandered for a moment, piecing together Snape's approach.
It wasn't lost on her that her classmates had spent their last years studying under Professor Slughorn, whose teaching style was far more lenient than Snape's. Many had achieved "E" grades, a standard that wouldn't have granted them access to Snape's Potions class in the past. Now, however, they were here, repeating their final year, and it was clear Snape intended to hold them to his own exacting standards.
It was obvious to Hermione what he was doing – sorting the capable from the mediocre, ensuring only the best left his classroom prepared for the outside world. It was harsh, but she couldn't deny that it was effective.
Satisfied for the moment that she'd escaped further interrogation, Hermione set to work, determined to prove herself once again.
She sighed relieved but frowned when she glanced at the open book in front of her. They had to make a Wiggenweld Potion. Although Hermione was not entirely sure what were the NEWT level potions they were supposed to learn by the end of the year, she was convinced Wiggenweld was not one of them. She was certain this particular potion was taught to first years. She glanced around the classroom to see the other people's reaction to the potion they had to brew, but if someone else noticed, nobody said anything.
Knowing that the potion was one of the exceptions the professor mentioned, Hermione went to gather her ingredients from the cupboard. She was sure nobody from her class would fail today's potion as it was such a basic task. Gathering the last of her ingredients, the flobberworm mucus, together with a couple of other people, she swiftly returned to her place next to Neville and began preparing the ingredients.
They worked in silence as it was always the case in professor Snape's classes. Nobody dared speak to their colleagues, few people even had the nerve to glance in the professor's direction. As Hermione sliced, diced and crushed her ingredients, she made sure to periodically check what Neville was doing. She was confident in her friend's brewing skills, but being around the Potions Master made him extremely uncomfortable and nervous and he would occasionally accidentally mess something up.
Halfway through the brewing process, as professor Snape started to pace around the room and discreetly check the student's potions, there had been no mishaps from anyone, no angry fumes, no weird sounds, nothing out of place. Hermione was pleased with the entire class of Gryffindors. She hoped the entire rest of the year would go just as smoothly.
When Hermione added the last element to the boiling mix, she allowed herself to relax. The two hours had almost passed, and all she had to do the remaining time was stir clockwise until the potion turned a nice shade of green. A couple of minutes into stirring, she reminded herself to check on Neville who she knew had done wonderfully all on his own up until that point. To Hermione's surprise, however, the boy was sweating profoundly over his almost brown liquid. Instantly, it was clear what had happened.
Hermione made sure to keep her gaze forward and watched as the professor silently graded papers at his desk. Carefully, she stepped on Neville's foot under the desk and silently nodded to her cauldron. She hoped it was enough for him to understand he had to change the stirring direction. With the corner of her eye, she saw him immediately change direction.
Although it could have been a lot worse, in the end, about ten minutes later, when they were required to bottle up their concoctions, the color of Neville's potion was just a hint dirtier than the solid green it was supposed to be. To Hermione's surprise, however, she spotted more than five potions which seemed to be even worse than her friend's.
One by one, the class was dismissed with many disapproving looks from the professor. As Hermione suspected, he was not pleased with their results. Although her potion was perfect, he did not say anything as she placed it on his desk, but she was not expecting him to do so anyway. She had never heard good feedback from him over the years. When Neville placed his final potion with shaking hands and a furrowed brow, Snape shot him a glance and raised his left eyebrow.
"Mr. Longbottom!" he started calmly with a sigh as he spun Neville's potion in his hand and inspected it thoughtfully. "You should thank Miss Granger for her guidance. I'm sure the result would have been even more disastrous without her interference."
"Y-yes, sir." Neville only managed to reply.
"Five points from Gryffindor! No more interfering in the future! You are dismissed, Longbottom!" Snape cast him away with a wave of his hand.
As Neville picked himself up and stumbled out of the classroom, his eyes flicked toward Hermione and a faint smile tugged at his lips. When the door closed behind him, she found herself alone with the Potions Master.
"Sir, if I may." Her voice cut through the silence before she had time to second-guess herself. She got up from her seat to stand in front of him. The professor's brow arched slightly, but he said nothing. She gathered up the courage to continue. "First off, I apologise for being late, I should have managed my time better." She faltered, waiting for him to respond, but he remained quiet.
"As for my interference in Neville's potion, he hadn't made a single mistake up until the last minutes when his nervousness got the better of him and started stirring in the opposite direction. I did nothing but softly encourage him to concentrate."
"Miss Granger," he spoke as he watched her intently, the faintest trace of a smirk on his face. "I am not interested in your apologies. Your history clearly suggested that following the rules would be too much to ask. You may not be accustomed to it, but your position demands that you set a proper example for others."
Speechless, she stood there, her mind spinning with the sting of every harsh remark.
He kept going, undeterred by her lack of response. "As for Mister Longbottom, I am extremely disappointed. Not only am I stuck teaching the hopeless cases professor Slughorn was generous enough to take on, but you seem determined to sink to their level."
The insult toward her friend and peers broke her silence, and Hermione found herself speaking without thinking. "I can't see how any of these students would be here if not out of necessity, sir. I know that, for certain individuals, this class is a necessary step toward their chosen career. As for me sinking to someone's level, I don't see how helping Neville regain his focus is lowering me." By the end of her nervous rambling, her cheeks had turned a bright shade of red. She was not used to talking back to him.
She had expected him to rage, but instead, he remained oddly calm. "Mr. Longbottom is a lost cause, Miss Granger. You cannot save him from his imminent failure. The boy is a threat to himself and to others in this classroom. Surely, you of all people must have realized that by now."
"I realize Potions is not his strongest suit, but he's more than decent, far better than Harry and Ron were." Hermione sighed, unsure whether to voice the rest of her thoughts. "The real issue is, however, his long standing fear of you, sir." by the end, her voice was no more than a whisper. She felt like she was betraying Neville somehow, but it wasn't exactly a secret that he feared Snape. His Boggart was the Potion Master after all.
"I fail to see how that is somehow my problem." he replied, irritated. Of course, everyone remembered the Boggart episode. Even after a few years, he was not able to live it down as it was still a joking matter back in the teacher's lounge. "In any case, even if he manages to pass the exceptions I have presented before, he will most definitely not be able to accomplish brewing a N.E.W.T level potion, that I am sure of!"
"That remains to be seen, sir." she muttered, her voice quiet and contemplative.
"I will not accept any more involvement from your part, Miss Granger! Let this be your final warning. I shall let it pass this time, but don't expect the same leniency next time. Now off you go." he warned her and waved her away with a dismissive gesture.
Hermione didn't linger. As soon as she could, she turned on her heels and took off. Only when she was ready to open the door did she cast a glance back and muttered a small "Goodbye, sir!" to which he only nodded.
As the Gryffindor made her way back to her new common room, she was deeply lost in thought. She was determined to help Neville pass his exams and by the look of it, the only way of doing that was for him to get over his deeply-rooted fear of their professor.
The other thing that bothered her was the Potions Master himself. It seemed he used every interaction they shared to admonish her. Having known him for years, she wasn't surprised by his behavior anymore, however, recently, he seemed particularly focused on pointing out her every mistake. She couldn't shake the feeling that her plan had faltered from the beginning, and there was no way to stop frustrating him. She had come to terms with the fact that an apprenticeship with him was no longer a possibility. All that remained was the hope that she could guide Neville toward his future.