The Resistance

Chapter 2

Hermione found herself sitting in the empty Slytherin common room, hunched up in an armchair by the fireplace, her head in her hands. This was all so strange. It all felt so familiar, yet so foreign. She was back at Hogwarts yes, but everything felt backwards. It felt like it was all inside out, all wrong. She was in the enemy house, sitting in their common room, years before she had even been born, and classmates with her friend's parents. She knew she had to be here, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

Suddenly the door to the common room swung open and a bunch of Slytherine students toppled through into the room, laughing and chatting amongst themselves. When they saw Hermione they stopped frozen still like a muggle painting to gawk at her. She sat up stiffly in her seat and looked back at them cooly, displaying far more confidence than she felt.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" demanded a square shaped, mountain of a boy that Hermione assumed was the father of either Crabb or Goyle.

"Hermione Song," she said shortly, tilting her head up and straitening her spine so that she drew her self up to her full height in her seat. "Who the hell are you?" Crabb, or Goyle which ever it was, looked confusedly at his friend, (who looked just as confounded as him) as the others around them sniggered.

"What?" he said, sounding just as stupid as he looked at this moment. Hermione heard the sound of a girl sniggering from within the crowd followed by a loud huff. A young Narcissa Malfoy, or rather, Narcissa Black, pushed her way to the front of the crowd and looked boldly into Hermione's light hazel eyes. She studied her for a moment, taking in every inch of her appearance with one great sweeping glance.

"She's the new girl that Sluggy was telling us about at dinner," she said to the group behind her without taking her eyes off Hermione's. "Or was I the only one listening?"

"As usual," sneered a dark, shaggy headed boy.

"Shut it Regulous," she snapped and the smile slid from Regulus Blacks face. "Ignore them," she said to Hermione. "Most of them are as stupid as they look. Except perhaps Reg. He's only half as stupid as he looks." She smirked at her cousin who rolled his eyes at her half smiling.

"Thanks cousin," he muttered as he disappeared down the stairs to the boy's dorm. She thrust out a slender white hand for Hermione to shake and said

"Narcissa Black." She sat in the chair opposite her and smiled wryly. "I have to say," she said. "You're not what I expected." Hermione raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"And what was that?" she asked, making Narcissa smiled slyly.

"Some one less well groomed." Hermione couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter.

"What were you expecting?" she sniggered. "A travellers daughter?" Narcissa chuckled.

"Are you?"

"No"

"Good." She looked over Hermione once more, curiosity burning in her eyes like the fire that crackled in the grate.

"Slughorn said your parents work for the foreign office at the Ministry," she said.

"Yes," Hermione answered shortly. She didn't like this. Being interrogated. But she was supposed to get close to them, and Narcissa Black was persistent in her questioning.

"Where have you lived then?"

"France, Spain, Romania, the USA and Africa," she recited. "All over really."

"Sounds fascinating," Narcissa said, her eyes fixed on the new witch. "Did you go to Beaux Battons?" Hermione nodded and Narcissa's eyes narrowed in jealously. "How does it compare?"