Chapter 1
In retrospect, going into an abandoned house with a former bully was a bad idea.
Hermione wasn’t sure how she got to this point in her life. She remembers winning the war, returning to Hogwarts for her 8th year, and graduating. She remembers helping her friends rebuild their lives after all of the terror and loss they suffered. Hermione also remembers joining the Ministry in hopes of being an Auror. However, she quickly learned that it wasn’t for her. Catching Dark Wizards was a thing of the past and she would much rather leave it there.
After that, Hermione remembers returning to Hogwarts, hoping to get some advice on what to do next. She roamed the halls before going to Professor McGonagall. The woman had greeted her with a kind smile, seeming the least bit surprised that Hermione had turned up unannounced. Hermione walked out of the office as a new professor of Hogwarts.
Hermione remembers vividly leaving the Ministry, knowing she wasn’t going to miss it. She was going back to her roots of academia; she was going to seize life by the horns again and take each day with her head held high afraid of nothing.
All of these decisions had led her to the current place she was in…standing inside a haunted house, only to fulfill a stupid dare. The initial months of teaching may have changed her opinions about the Slytherin house but there was no way she was going to pass up an opportunity to prove that Gryffindor was better in every single way.
“Let’s just get this over with, shall we?” a deep voice drawled beside her.
Oh, right. Hermione almost forgot about that part.
In addition to being dared to go into this disastrous house, her current status involved the last person she wanted to be around.
“I agree, Professor Malfoy,” Hermione responded curtly, looking around the extremely dark, and insanely creepy structure.
There was little to no light coming in from the dusty windows, giving little illumination to the front parlor of the house. Hermione guessed that it had been abandoned for centuries due to the sheer amount of cobwebs that covered every surface, including the one they were standing on. There also didn’t appear to be any visible exits from where they were. Hermione sighed. This would be an interesting adventure, indeed.
Without another word, she started walking towards the room behind the staircase.
“Wait, where are you going?” Malfoy called frantically after her, his footsteps starting into a run to catch up.
Hermione had little patience for the ferret. “To find a door to get out.” There was no way she was staying trapped in this house with him.
She reached the end of the staircase and peered around, searching for a sign. She was only met with an old armchair covered in, surprise to no one: cobwebs. Frowning, she turned the corner fully and noticed a door at the far end of the hallway. That could be something.
“Why don’t we just Apparate out?” Malfoy asked behind her, his voice still frantic. Hermione rolled her eyes. Figures.
Whirling around on her feet, she put her hands on her hips. He stepped back in surprise, his eyes still dancing around the dark room as if he were waiting for something to pop out from the walls and attack him.
“That sounds like a fantastic idea, Malfoy. Go ahead and prove to all of the 7th years what the braver house is,” Hermione gave him her fakest smile yet, squinting her eyes for effect. Draco’s once fearful eyes narrowed and he pulled his vest (yes he wore vests) down.
“I will not” he sniffed, his entire back straightening. “I was simply suggesting an idea for those of us who may not be able to handle a little challenge...”
Hermione chuckled dryly. “A challenge? Seeing your ugly face every day in the halls is a challenge.”
Without another word Hermione whipped around and headed for the door she hoped would lead to something. She was half lying; she did have to see his face every day but it was not remotely close to ugly. Hermione didn’t wait for his response before she pulled the door open.
The room was just as dark and dirty as the rest of the house. It looked almost like a small drawing room, bookshelves lining the walls. In the center was a large wooden table with chairs surrounding it. Hermione couldn’t tell the color of the carpet but she had to guess it was once a beautiful pattern.
She walked gently across the floor, hearing the wood creak beneath her feet. Carefully looking around the walls, she noticed the portraits of various family members that probably inhabited the house.
“Recognize any of them?” Hermione called to Draco who was a good distance behind her.
“No, why would I?”
“I thought all stuck-up aristocrats all knew each other,” Hermione smirked, reaching the far end of the room. She didn’t hear a response but could feel an eye roll.
Hermione sighs at the lack of a door at this end of the room. Perhaps they should go back? Maybe there was a balcony upstairs? The thought of what was ahead made her skin crawl.
“Out of ideas, Golden Girl?” Malfoy smirked next to her. Hermione rolls her eyes, turning to face him.
“I don’t hear you throwing out any,” She snaps, crossing her arms. She feels her temper rising. She hated that nickname, though she was unsure of where it came from.
“I thought the Brightest Witch of Our Age would have something up her sleeve. It would appear I’m mistaken,” Draco looks away. Hermione’s frown only deepens. He is the most annoying and self-centered-
“I would be careful of your tone, Professor,” she snaps at him.
Malfoy took a step closer to her. “Oh you just love using that title, don’t you Granger,” he hissed.
“Considering you remind me nearly every day that you are oh-so-qualified to teach potions, it’s a bit hard for me to forget it,” Hermione hears her voice rising in volume.
Upon starting at Hogwarts, Hermione was beyond shocked to see that she would be working beside none other than Draco Malfoy. It appeared that he had realized he was a few steps behind a bit before she did and went to McGonagall for aid. Whereas Hermione had gotten the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, Malfoy got Potions. Since their awkward reunion, he loved to constantly remind her that he specialized in potion-making and was more than able to teach while she was inadequate at every aspect of her job.
On more than one occasion they would be shouting in each other’s faces, chest to chest, causing many students to become worried they would take out their wands. Hermione had become accustomed to finding herself seated next to Malfoy in McGonagall’s office, still fuming as the Headmistress tried to gain control of the situation. Nothing would get through Malfoy’s stubborn head.
“Right, I forgot that you’re so incredibly qualified, too,” Malfoy rolled his eyes, shaking his head dismissively.
Hermione saw red and pointed a finger in his face. “For the LAST time, Malfoy. I have helped save the Wizarding World which is more than you can account for!” His eyes immediately darkened in fury but Hermione was too angry to care.
“While I got my job as a professor due to accolades, you probably got offered yours due to pity,” Hermione snapped, feeling her magic pulsing around her.
“Watch it, Granger,” Draco’s voice was low and barely audible. His entire body had grown tense. His hand was gripping the bookcase beside them. They were almost chest to chest now. Hermione could almost smell his aftershave–it wasn’t a horrible smell if she was honest.
She pushed him. It barely did anything as Malfoy remained rooted. “Or what? You going to hex me?”
“Granger, I swear-” He took a step towards her when there was a click. Both of them froze, words leaving their lips. Hermione opened her mouth to say something before the ground gave away below them and they dropped.