To a Better End

Chapter 16

September 6th, 1942

Hermione walked to the Slytherin table in a haze with a quick longing glance at the Ravenclaw table. She had always wanted to be in the house associated with knowledge. Study sessions in Ravenclaw Tower would be much better than the ones she had with Ron and Harry.

When she sat down, she saw Lyall look over at her apologetically. He had talked up Ravenclaw for over half of the carriage ride, making it more and more desirable with each word. She placed her elbows on the table and shrugged defeatedly at him.

She took the next few moments to assess the table of her new housemates. Recognising an abundant number of faces from the tapestry at Grimmauld Place, it was clear the Black family, and those extended from it, dominated Slytherin. In addition to the familiar faces, a loud and boisterous group made themselves known during the Sorting. Their annoying jostling of one another and making crude jokes about Hufflepuff sortings boiled Hermione's blood. Surveying the Slytherin girls, Hermione deduced that a small portion demonstrated visible teenage infatuation, while a larger portion of them acted wildly irritated by their immaturity.

One student that stood out from the rest, however, was a prefect sitting on the other side of the table five people down. His indifference to the chaos of their house was slightly reassuring. When she caught Tom's gaze, he adjusted his tie and returned his attention to the Sorting. Even after he looked away, Hermione's eyes lingered. Just as it had been on the train, his black hair remained perfectly placed. His dark brown eyes were filled with warmth. Had it been anyone else, Hermione might have found them inviting. She was intrigued by his sharp, albeit attractive, features. Sensing her eyes on him, he turned back to meet her eyes with a smile. Blushing, she turned away, pretending to search for the other prefect for their house.

Before Hermione was able to find her, Malfoy had taken a seat next to her.

"Hello, dear," he whispered.

"You have to stop calling me that," she whispered back roughly.

"Not a chance, little snake ," he chuckled. "You should have seen your face, Granger. I wish I had a photo of it to frame at home."

"Shut it." She elbowed him in the gut.

The Welcome Feast was lavish and delicious, and yet, Hermione couldn't help but wonder about all the families that were struggling at this time, rationing and unable to enjoy the luxuries they were so easily permitted. It didn't feel right to sit in the Great Hall and have a semi-normal life while there was a full-fledged war happening beyond the Wizarding World.

After the feast, Tom stood abruptly and called the attention of the first years. He didn't say anything about her and Malfoy, so Hermione was unsure if she should follow or wait. It wasn't as though they needed directions, Malfoy knew where it was, but since it was their first night, he would have to pretend otherwise. Thankfully, a blonde girl approached them seconds later, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Hello there. I have been instructed to escort you to the common room without the first years. We just have to swing by Slughorn's office to get you both your schedules and a proper introduction. You'll also be getting your room assignments there. Not every day that we get new students this age."

They stood and followed the nameless prefect, eased by her welcoming presence. Hermione made a note to make sure she asked the name of the girl. Perhaps she would find herself making friends with this witch.

They were led down to the dungeons and stopped at a very familiar door. The blonde gave the door two knocks, and it opened almost immediately.

"Ah! Miss Rosier. I assume these are our transfers?" The cheerful professor stood from the desk, extending a hand to shake.