Not when her boys weren't with her, anyway.

She managed to slow her pace to a brisk walk, and turned down the hallway to her left. She forced herself to take several deep breaths as she walked, not only to help pace herself, but also to try and calm her racing heart.

Today Professor Vector would be handing out the Arithmancy project assignments, an event Hermione had been looking forward to for the last three weeks. She hurried into the classroom and took her usual seat, noting with pleasure that she was the first student to make it into the room. She took out her book, parchment, and the brand new self-inking quills she'd found in Scrivenshaft's the weekend before, and waited impatiently for class to begin.

The classroom filled up slowly, and finally everyone was there, with the exception of one person. She narrowed her eyes at him as he swaggered into the room. Why did he always have to be the ruddy center of attention, no matter where he was? When he turned and caught her glaring openly at him, he smirked.

“I know I’m the most handsome thing you’ve ever seen, but please, Granger, try not to drool all over yourself. It’s embarrassing, really.”¯ Her jaw dropped, and she gasped angrily.

“You pretentious, pompous jerk,”¯ she began hotly. “I would never-”

“That is quite enough, Miss Granger,”¯ Professor Vector said, disappointment evident in her voice. Hermione could feel the heat rising to her cheeks and making them burn, and she loathed Malfoy for it. She would not give him the satisfaction of looking at him. Would not, would not, would not - damn! He was still smirking at her, the arrogant bastard!

“Now, as you all know,”¯ the Professor began, smiling at the students. “Today is the day when we will be discussing your class projects, which I know you are aware count as one-third of your final grade in this class. I have some more exciting news as well - something completely unplanned,”¯ she continued, ignoring the groans she heard. “We are about to take a very special pop quiz.”¯ The groans got louder.

Hermione was breathless with excitement.

“The results of this quiz will determine who gets to fill the coveted internship position that’s being offered at the Ministry. As you all should know, the internship begins in the middle of December, since that’s the Ministry’s busiest time of the year.”¯ Hermione was practically apoplectic. She had heard about the internship during the summer, and had decided right away that she wanted nothing more. It would mean spending the Christmas holidays at Hogwarts and taking on loads of extra work in addition to her regular coursework, but it was worth it. It was a paid internship, and if she did well enough, it might even earn her a recommendation to work at the Ministry after graduation.

“There is to be nothing on your desk, save for your quills and ink,”¯ Professor Vector announced, watching as the mumbling students put their supplies away. Once the desks were cleared, she began passing out little red-covered notebooks. She returned to the front of the room and smiled brightly. “You are to fill your entire notebook with the answer to this essay question. Your books will then be sealed and delivered straight to the Ministry for review.”¯

Hermione held her quill poised above the first blank page, anxiously awaiting the entire question to appear on the board. Professor Vector waved her wand, and words began to appear in her handwriting. “When time is up in thirty minutes,”¯ she said. The class groaned again, and Hermione rolled her eyes. “Then I will announce your project assignments.”¯

Hermione stared at the board for a full twenty seconds. That was it? It really seemed too easy. She frowned for a moment, and then began hastily scratching out an outline to her essay, mapping out all of the important points she wanted to cover. Thirty minutes really wasn’t enough time to go into the kind of detail she wanted, but she would do her best.

Four seats behind her, Draco’s head was bent over his own essay. Ridiculous as the question was, he would answer it. He would also let the brainless morons over at the Ministry know exactly what he thought of Pythagoras’ theorems, the lot of them. They were antiquated, and if one chose to go about performing Arithmancy the way they had back when there had been no such thing as running water, then sure, they were fabulous. But if you wanted a less hands-on, more cutting edge experience, Trigomancy was the way to go. It was the wave of the future, he thought snidely.

For the allotted time, nothing was heard but the sounds of quills moving against the parchment inside the notebooks. When time was up, Professor Vector sounded an alarm. It nearly made Hermione jump out of her skin, and she dropped her brand new quill on the floor.

“Please pass your notebooks to the person in front of you. When the person sitting in the front row has all of the essays from their row, kindly pass them to your right.”¯ Hermione bent to pick up her quill. As soon as her fingers touched it, she heard a rustling noise, and she sighed as several essay books slid off of her desk. She didn’t even bother turning around when she heard the telltale sniggering. She would not give him the satisfaction - not this time, anyway. She gathered up all of the books and handed them to the Professor.

“All right - projects.”¯ The class watched as she stuffed all of the essays into a cloth sack and sealed it, then placed it inside of her desk. She picked up a leather-bound planner from her desk and flipped it open. Hermione always smiled when she saw the Professor with it; she had one exactly like it, and would be lost without it. “I trust you’ve all read the first chapter of this unit, which is beginning use of the Calculatus spell.”¯ Hermione had read it - twice at home the past summer, and three times in the last week.

“These spells are quite a bit more difficult than Summoning Sums, so due to their complexity, I have decided to allow you to work in pairs.”¯ Hermione sighed as the rest of the class erupted into cheers. Didn’t they realize that when the teachers allowed them to work in groups, they made the work twice as hard? And besides, she thought with a frown, she really worked better on her own. It didn’t matter who she was paired with; they never put forth the same effort that she did.

She didn’t want to admit to herself that she had no real friends in this class, and she was afraid she wouldn’t be asked to be someone’s partner. She hated choosing groups and pairs; she was always the last one chosen, no matter the subject. Apparently no one valued her intellect enough to choose her first; they overlooked the good grade she would most definitely earn in favor of being with their friends. Would they ever understand that it wasn’t a popularity contest? It was about grades, for cripes’ sake - grades that ultimately affected their future!

“Calm down, you lot,”¯ the Professor called, trying to quell the tides of conversation that had begun. When the noise had ebbed enough for her to be heard, she continued. “Since some of you tend to pick the same partners every time you’re paired off, I thought I would change things up a bit.”¯ She pulled out a small black bag and shook it. A draw? Hermione wondered. Well, it might work, she supposed. At least then she wouldn’t feel the pressure of asking someone to be her partner - the Professor would have essentially chosen him or her and forced them into it.

“I am going to draw names out of this bag, two at a time. Those two students will be paired off, and will have the rest of the class to work out how they want to approach this project. I will want a detailed outline,”¯ she said. Hermione was already working out the colour-coded chart in her mind. “So you will need to work together, and not socialize.”¯

“The first pair,”¯ she said, reaching into the bag. “Will be Terry Boot and Padma Patil.”¯ Hermione exhaled a tiny puff of air. If there had been anyone she’d been hoping to get as a partner, it was Padma. She was the only Gryffindor student in the class. It was comprised mostly of Ravenclaws, with the addition of one Hufflepuff and one Slytherin. She smiled to herself. If there were any justice in the world, Malfoy would be paired off with the Hufflepuff.

“Our next pair will be,”¯ Professor Vector murmured, withdrawing two more slips of paper from the bag, “Zacharias Smith and Susan Bones.”¯ Hermione tried not to be upset. Susan was the lone Hufflepuff. There were only six students left in the class, including Hermione.

“Hermione Granger and,”¯ Professor Vector said, reaching for another name. Hermione held her breath. “Draco Malfoy.”¯ Hermione’s heart plummeted into her stomach, and she could feel her jaw drop.

“Excuse me, Professor,”¯ came the snide voice from the back of the room. Hermione closed her eyes. Here we go, she thought. Perhaps I should be grateful for his temerity - he might just be able to get us both out of this!

“Yes, Mister Malfoy?”¯

“There must be some mistake. You see, I-” The Professor held up her hand to stay his protest.

“Come now, Mister Malfoy; surely you have no objections to this pairing? I know that I would love to see my two best students working together. Who knows what brilliant things you could do, when both of those brilliant minds are put together.”¯ Draco smirked, obviously preening. Hermione had to give the older woman credit; she knew how to stroke Draco’s ego and make him forget that he’d been about to try and talk her into changing his partner.

Damned if Murphy’s Law didn’t have it in for her! Of the nine other people in the class, she had to get stuck with him. She cradled her chin in her hand and exhaled noisily. “Next will be Michael Corner and Lisa Turpin.”¯ Lisa squealed happily. She’d had a crush on Michael ever since Ginny had gone out with him. At least someone was happy about their partner, Hermione thought.

“That leaves Mandy and Morag to be partners,”¯ the Professor announced, depositing the bag onto the table.

“Oh, how cute. Alliteration.”¯ Hermione rolled her eyes. Honestly, did the imbecile have to comment on everything? The world definitely would have been a much better place if someone could figure out how to surprise him with a permanent silencing charm.

“Thank you, Mister Malfoy - that’s quite enough. Now that you all have your partners, I suggest that you use your time wisely and get to work. You only have thirty minutes left to complete your outline.”¯

Professor Vector was one clever little minx, Draco thought. She had distracted him from his protests long enough so that by the time he remembered them, it was way too late, and everyone else had already been paired off. There was simply no one else left to work with - not that he really wanted to, anyway. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how utterly brilliant the whole situation was.

Granger was a workhorse, and she was top of the class, even if she was a bushy-haired little know-it-all. That would definitely work to his advantage, especially since they were smack in the middle of trying to find a new Chaser for the Slytherin Quidditch team. Tryouts would take some time away from his homework, but with Granger behind the wheel, he wasn’t overly worried about that.

Another bonus? Not only would he be able to torment her at close range, it would be during school sanctioned meetings. He smiled malevolently to himself. And damn, wouldn’t it just piss Potter and Weasley right the fuck off if Draco were the one usurping the mouthy bint’s time? He didn’t understand why they remained such good friends; if Draco had had a female friend that talked as much as Granger did, he’d slide his wand right across his wrists.

Professor Vector took a seat behind her desk and watched her students begin to interact. It was a small class, but the students who had managed to stay with the subject this long were dedicated to it. She expected nothing less than the best from her seventh years - after all, she had been with each of them for five years, and had gotten to know them over the duration of her courses with them.

She held particularly high hopes for Hermione and Draco. Her eyes drifted over to them, and she sighed. It was going to be a battle of wills to the end, and apparently, the battle was in full swing already. Hermione’s head was bent over her book, and she was engrossed in something she was reading. Her lips were moving along silently with every word. Draco, on the other hand, was openly glaring at the girl.

She shook her head. She’d seen some stubborn students (and Professors, come to that) butt heads over the years, but these two had to take the prize. She was trying to let them sort things out on their own, but after twenty minutes, it became clear that she was going to have to step in.

“Miss Granger? Mister Malfoy? The two of you only have ten minutes left to come up with a detailed outline for your project.”¯ Draco opened his mouth, but the girl was simply faster.

“I’ve already got the outline ready, Professor,”¯ she said, placing a hand on the parchment that sat on the desk in front of her.

“Without consulting your partner?”¯ The older woman raised her eyebrows. The shade of red that Draco Malfoy had suddenly become did not suit him.

“This is my grade, too, Granger,”¯ Draco snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously. “And if you think I’m about to let you just decide to do whatever you want to do, you’re grossly mistaken!”¯ The other students had gone quiet and were watching the scene intently. While Malfoy didn’t seem to care, the attention made Hermione’s cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“Then you should have gotten up and come over here to work on it, shouldn’t you?”¯ she demanded.

“Maybe if you’d bathed in the last century, I could have tolerated the smell enough to get close.”¯ Hermione spun around in her chair, her eyes wide and her jaw hanging loose in surprise.

“Mister Malfoy!”¯ Professor Vector gasped. “That is hardly the behavior I expect from one of my students! You will apologize to Miss Granger this instant!”¯

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to beg off of that just now,”¯ he said, his voice calm. His eyes had hardened to steely points. The Professor squared her jaw. She’d heard rumours from the other Professors that he was a smartarse, but this was the first that she’d experienced of his attitude. She’d just have to put a stop to it before he had a chance to get started.

“Then I’m afraid I’ll be forced to accept Miss Granger’s outline as the outline for your joint project.”¯ She stepped forward and plucked the parchment from Hermione’s desktop. “Pity, you didn’t even get to look at it. I suppose you’ll have to have an extra session together in order to discuss it.”¯ Hermione’s eyes swung back to the teacher she’d so admired.

“Professor, please!”¯ she begged. “Why punish me for-”

“Now, Hermione,”¯ the woman began, her tone gentle. “I fully expect you to be the bigger person and do your best to work with Mister Malfoy to the best of your ability. This project should not be viewed by anyone as a punishment.”¯ She gave Draco a meaningful look, which he scowled at.

“Yes, Professor,”¯ Hermione whispered, deflated. She sank down in her seat and closed her eyes, praying that the last ten minutes of class would go quickly. She could feel Malfoy’s eyes trained on the back of her head, and knowing him, he was probably working out different ways to torture her the moment the opportunity presented itself.

When the class was dismissed, Hermione gathered up her things hurriedly and shoved them into her rucksack. She stood up so quickly that she bumped her hip against the wooden desk. Doing her best not to cry (it smarted quite a bit, and she suspected that she was going to have a bruise there later), she bolted for the door. Before she could reach it, however, someone stepped in front of her.

“Think you got the best of me today, do you?”¯ he asked, his voice low enough so that the teacher couldn’t hear. Hermione tried to move around him, but he stepped to his left and blocked her. She sidestepped to the right, and he mimicked her movements.

“Move out of my way,”¯ she ordered, her voice trembling slightly.

“Is there a problem?”¯ Professor Vector asked, glancing up and seeing the two standing in her doorway.

“No, Professor,”¯ Draco said politely, his eyes still trained on Hermione. “We were just working out when and where to meet.”¯ The Professor nodded, thrilled that they were going to work out their differences, and turned back to her work. “Don’t think that you’re going to get around me, Mudblood. This is my project too, and I intend to be involved in it.”¯

“Move out of my way,”¯ Hermione said through gritted teeth, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. “Before I make you move.”¯

“I’d love to see you try,”¯ he challenged, narrowing his eyes at her. After a long minute, he stepped to the side, and she walked out into the hallway. She had gotten approximately thirty feet away when he called out to her. “Granger.”¯

She froze in her tracks, and then turned around very slowly. He was leaning against a wall, his own rucksack casually slung over one shoulder. “I’d be careful who I turned my back on, if I were you.”¯

“Is that a threat?”¯ she demanded, outraged.

“Consider it a promise.”¯ He turned and sauntered off down the hallway, leaving her staring after him in disbelief.

Harry and Ron were already stuffing their faces when she entered the Great Hall for lunch. She deposited her bag on the floor and took her usual seat across from them. Ron didn’t look up, and continued mumbling something about Divination, but when Harry lifted his eyes to her, he immediately saw that something was wrong. He put down his fork and cleared his throat.

“All right there, Hermione?”¯

“I suppose,”¯ she said quietly, sighing. She reached for the pitcher of pumpkin juice and poured some into her goblet.

“I thought today was the big Arithmancy - thingy,”¯ Harry said, gesturing with his hands. He pushed his glasses up. “You were dead excited at breakfast. Did you not get the project you wanted?”¯

“We got to choose our own projects,”¯ she replied, staring down at her empty plate. Ron shoveled another forkful of food into his mouth.

“Oh uzz uh omum?”¯ Bits of food sprayed out as he tried to speak, and Harry rolled his eyes.

“If you get to pick your own projects, why do you look so upset?”¯

“We have partners.”¯

“So you’re mad 'cause you have to share the glory with somebody else?”¯ Ron asked, after gulping down his mouthful of food.

“They were assigned partners.”¯ Harry tilted his head to one side.

“Oh.”¯

“Why does that matter?”¯ Ron continued, frowning at her.

“It means that she got paired with someone she doesn’t like,”¯ Harry explained.

“But Hermione likes everyone,”¯ Ron complained, still not understanding.

Harry turned to look at him. “Don’t you remember who’s in her Arithmancy class?”¯

“How should I know who’s in there?”¯

“Ron, do you ever listen? She’s only told us about a million times since she started taking the class in third year.”¯

“Well?”¯

Hermione sighed again. “Malfoy is my partner.”¯

“Oh. OH,”¯ Ron said, realization dawning across his face. “Wow, Professor Vector must really have it in for you.”¯ Harry shot his friend a look of disbelief, and Ron shrugged. “What?”¯

“Do you have a single sensitive bone in your body?”¯

“I’m just stating the obvious.”¯

“The obvious doesn’t have to be stated, Ron - that’s why they call it the obvious!”¯

“I’m not feeling very hungry right now,”¯ Hermione said, rising from the table and reaching for her bag.

“Hermione, don’t let him get to you like this,”¯ Harry said, sympathy in his eyes.

“I’ll be fine, Harry,”¯ she reassured him. “I just need to be alone for right now.”¯ She turned and left the Great Hall. When she was gone, Harry turned back to Ron.

“Why do you have to say things like that to her?”¯

“What do you mean? Stuff like what?”¯ Ron asked innocently. Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“Never mind.”¯ Harry sometimes wondered if Hermione had been spot on when she’d accused Ron of having the emotional range of a teaspoon. At any rate, his emotional range seemed to be larger than his attention span.