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Chapter 231 - CH 230

Hermione had already doubled back down and was focusing with patronus like intensity over her own ball.

"Any tips you can give, Daphne?" Harry asked.

Daphne's smile grew even wider and that warm feeling from before grew stronger. She couldn't ever remember a time in all the years she'd known him, when she was actually better at something than Harry, and now Harry was asking for her help. She explained what she'd done with her magic to a listening Harry and a suddenly fiercely listening Hermione, who'd been distracted from her ball the moment Daphne started her mini lecture.

Angelystor then put her back to work on, 'opening her inner eye wider' while Harry and Hermione continued to try to open theirs even a bit.

By the end of their session, though, neither Harry nor Hermione had made any progress, and Hermione was in a right huff.

"Not everyone has the ability to open their inner eye, Hermione," Angelystor said, trying to console her friend. "And you've only been trying for a few hours. Maybe you'll get it next time?"

But it was still a grumpy Hermione who climbed into the bed opposite her own in the Slytherin first years girl's dormitory, and it wasn't until next morning that the enthusiastic returned.

'learn all the

spells'

witch

Albus Dumbledore invisibly crept along the passageways of Hogwarts in search of his quarry. He hated that he'd been reduced to this, and indeed, if anyone on the board of directors learned that he'd taken to following an eleven year old boy around while invisible… well… awkward wouldn't begin to describe it.

He soon found said eleven year old boy standing in a circle of his fellow Slytherins consisting of the Greengrass heiress, the Davis heiress, the muggleborn vassal, and Mister Zabini.

"But you still hang out with Malfoy and his ilk." The Davis heiress looked ticked off. Harry Potter smiled. "Sure."

Davis growled. "You can't be secretly on our side, Potter. That's not how this works." "Why not?" Davis huffed and opened her mouth again. The Greengrass heiress put a calming hand on Davis' shoulder. "Let it go, Tracey." "Buuutttt Dappphhhhh," Davis whined. Potter chuckled. "I'll catch you later. I have some things to sort out." And with that, he waved and left, heading back up the corridor. Albus followed him and the last words he heard from the children of the Gray were, "I swear, Daph, if we lose him…" The youngest Potter swung around a corner and marched down another passageway, Albus following closely behind. So, both the Dark and the Gray children were courting Harry, were they? That was troublesome, but at least Harry's unwillingness to publicly pick a side would give him time to manoeuvre.

Harry stopped just outside a seemingly random tapestry and pulled out his wand.

Albus's eyes lit up. If young Harry was in the habit of using his wand in the corridors, issuing him a detention so he could get a full evening with him would be easy.

This thought lasted only as long as it took the boy to jab the brother wand to Tom's and muttered, "homenum revelio."

Dumbledore froze and felt a familiar wave of magic sweep over him, singling him out, even while invisible, rending any form of concealment about as useful as a paper screen in a monsoon.

The boy glanced disinterestedly in his direction, turned, and walked off again, seemingly without a care in the world.

Albus stood there, rooted to the spot. "What the hell had that been?"

It was the second Monday after the students returned to the castle, and Hermione was tidying up after the first club meeting of the first year muggleborns, in which they'd briefly started occlumency lessons, although not the full on 'Harry Potter Method'.

They didn't have a name for their group yet. Sophie Roper had suggested, "The Newblood Club," as she felt, 'muggleborn,' sounded like you had a mental birth defect. Justin, on the other hand, didn't like the idea of giving the phrase, 'pureblood,' legitimacy by defining themselves in relation to them. He preferred, "The Founder's Club," because, as he said, "we are all the founders of our own houses."

Hermione couldn't help liking that one 'Hermione Granger, Founder of the House of Granger' — It had quite a nice ring to it.

Kevin Entwhistle had shrugged his large shoulders and said it was, "six of one and half a dozen of the other, you know?" to which Hermione had pointed out that if you took six of one and half a dozen of another, then you would still have two identically numbered sets of different things.

Dean Thomas had then jokingly bopped her on the head, resulting in an impromptu duel that she had easily won, hands down. Hermione now stood in the empty classroom, shrinking and pocketing the trunk that contained the portrait of Daphne's grandmother. She heard the door creak open and idly turned her head, expecting to see Sophie, or maybe one of the others back again. What she wasn't expecting to see was Draco Malfoy, leaning against the door frame and wearing that same smirk he'd worn on the train.

"Heir Malfoy." A heavy feeling slowly formed in her stomach. Her wand softly slid into her hand from her holster.

Malfoy kicked off from the door. "Hello there, Granger. Fancy meeting you here." The door closed behind him with a soft little click. "You know, amazing thing… I was just minding my own business when suddenly, a muddle of mudbloods from all the houses strolls right past me, and I thought, 'well, that's something you don't see everyday — I wonder if I follow the stink they left behind them, if I'll find the mudblood princess,' and here you are."

Hermione stuck her nose up slightly and sniffed. "Can I help you, or are just here to bark?" She couldn't help but noticing Malfoy's own wand sliding into his hand.

Malfoy's smirk grew larger. "Whose to say I'm not here to bite?"

"Oh, please. We already conversation on the train."

had

this

"No, Granger," he drawled, "we had half a conversation on the train. We never finished it."

"You walked away." "I saw no reason in having the second half of our conversation were other's would see."

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