Cufflinks

It was Monday now, and Hermione was in a good mood.

She'd woken up extra early today, something she'd committed herself to doing every Monday since the first day of the school year in order to start every week with a fresh mind and a clear head. After going over her schedule for the day and getting a head start on some Herbology homework that Professor Sprout had assigned last Friday, she'd even managed to make a quick stop at the library to check out a book on runes that she'd been wanting to read for ages. With the thought of reading that book after her first class of the day, Potions, Hermione had bounded into the Potions classroom with a wide smile on her face.

Which immediately slid off her face when she saw who was sitting in the seat next to her's.

Malfoy waved brightly to her as she approached her desk, looking infuriatingly happy as he lounged across the stool next to hers that Seamus usually sat in.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione demanded, gripping the strap of her bookbag as she stared down at Malfoy. A thought niggled in the back of her mind—as if there was something important that was slipping her mind, but she didn't know what.

Malfoy cocked his head mockingly. "You don't seem very happy to see me," he observed, ignoring her question.

"That's Seamus's seat," Hermione said accusingly. She pointed at one of the many matte black desks scattered around the back of the classroom and glared down at Malfoy. "You always sit there with Terrence Higgs. Why are you here?"

Malfoy leaned back on his stool. He loosened his tie before casually saying, "Why, so we can work on our project together, Granger."

So we can work on our project together.

Hermione felt abject horror seep into her body as Malfoy, evidently noticing the slowly dawning look of realization on her face, grinned so smugly that he put the Cheshire Cat to shame. "Don't tell me that half of our agreement has slipped your mind already?"

How could she have forgotten? Hermione wanted to turn and bolt out of the classroom at the speed of light. Until their disastrous and torturous blind 'date,' she'd forgotten how much Malfoy got on her nerves, and that had come back to fully bite her in the arse. She'd been so glad to get rid of him after Hogsmeade that she'd resolved to avoid interacting with or thinking about him completely until it was only necessary—in turn completely forgetting exactly what she'd agreed to in her deal with him.

What had she been thinking, proposing to partner up with him for the project? It was Malfoy, for god's sake! What had seemed like a genius idea at the time now sounded absolutely horrendous—it didn't matter that Malfoy was second-best in the class if it meant Hermione had to be stuck with him for the entire brewing period of a complex potion!

"I—" she opened her mouth desperately and then closed it. "Well—didn't you not want to partner up with me?"

"We did make a deal though."

"You don't have to fulfill your end of the deal!"

"I'm a very fair and honorable person," said Malfoy solemnly, his eyes glinting. "I uphold all my promises."

Hermione grit her teeth. "Well, you know that I'm going to be extremely bossy."

"Fine by me. You convinced me in the end that the pros outweigh the cons anyway."

"Wouldn't you rather there be no cons at all?" Hermione said shrilly, gesturing desperately to Terrence Higgs, Malfoy's fellow blonde Slytherin and usual Potions partner, who'd just sat down at his shared desk with Malfoy and was dutifully pulling out his textbook and quill for class. "Terrence is smart and responsible—you always work with him! And he won't boss you around!"

"What's with the sudden change of mood? Weren't you practically begging me to work with you?" Malfoy's smile widened as Hermione leveled him with a withering glare.

"No, I was not—I was merely suggesting a possible partnership. I changed my mind."

Malfoy shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, I also changed my mind." He brushed some nonexistent dust off his shoulder. "Plus, who would I be if I failed to uphold my end of the bargain we made? I'd be too ashamed to even show my face to the school." He mimicked shivering slightly, ignoring Hermione fuming on the spot.

Just then, a familiar voice floated through the classroom door, and Hermione nearly gave herself whiplash as she turned to see Seamus enter the classroom, chatting animatedly with Neville Longbottom. Hermione nearly tripped in her rush to get to them.

"Seamus!"

"Hey, Hermione," greeted Seamus, slowly down and looking cautiously at the wild expression on her face. "What's going on?"

"Doyouwanttobepartnersfortheproject?" She didn't care about anything else anymore—she'd take the possibility of Seamus blowing up their potion over getting stuck with Malfoy any day. She could always re-brew the potion, but there was nothing she could do to exterminate an extremely annoying and narcissistic blonde git of a partner.

Seamus looked confused. "I thought you were partnering up with Malfoy."

There was a moment of silence as Hermione stared at him. "What?"

Seamus pointed at Malfoy, who was observing the exchange with an innocent glint in his eyes, hands crossed behind his head casually. "Well, Malfoy was nice enough to come up to me yesterday and let me know in advance that I should find a new Potions partner for the project ahead of time since you'd agreed to partner up with him." He gestured at Neville. "So I'm working with Neville."

Neville was eyeing Hermione with concern. "Hermione, are you okay? You're turning redder by the second—do you want me to take you to the Hospital Wing?"

"I'm fine," Hermione muttered, managing a weak smile at Seamus and Neville before turning away and leaving the two of them standing there in slight confusion.

"How was the conversation?" Malfoy asked innocently as Hermione stalked up to him.

"You," she hissed. "You think you're so clever? You think I can't just find another partner?"

Malfoy scoffed. "Please. This is Slughorn's only eighth year Potions class, and there are only fourteen students—including us—taking it. I don't think you have many other options other than me."

Hermione knew he was right, and she hated it. "Just wait until I go talk to Slughorn. He'll just assign me someone el—"

"Ah, my two best students!" exclaimed a loud voice from behind them, and Hermione felt a sinking feeling of dread deep in the pit of her stomach as she and Malfoy both turned around.

Horace Slughorn was approaching them with his arms thrown wide open, the position accentuating his immensely round stomach, which was seemingly threatening for the buttons of his maroon waistcoat to pop off at any moment. His pudgy fingers were clasped around a gray wand, which he was currently brandishing around in excitement as he waddled over towards Hermione and Malfoy.

"Oho, what a sight!" Slughorn clapped Malfoy on the back, his walrus-like mustache bristling as he beamed at him and Hermione. "My top two students, partnering up together for what must be of my most difficult projects!"

"No, Professor, actually—"

Hermione's protest was effectively cut off as Slughorn wiggled a thick finger in her face. "Miss Granger, you sure have yourself a dedicated partner! Oh yes, Mr. Malfoy is clearly determined to do well on this project—he approached me yesterday and asked me for special permission for the two of you to brew in an empty dungeon classroom so you can visit it whenever needed—"

"Well, Professor, actually—"

"—which of course I approved! Such a splendid idea, really—how could I refuse?"

"Professor, you flatter me," said Malfoy in a voice injected with false modesty. "I just couldn't contain my excitement to work with Gr—Hermione."

Hermione couldn't help but cringe at how her first name sounded coming out of Malfoy's mouth.

Slughorn chuckled merrily. "And excited you should be, my boy! Miss Granger is one of the brightest students I have ever had the pleasure of teaching—I cannot wait to see the finished product of such two brilliant minds!"

What was she supposed to say to that? There was no way she could ask for a new partner after that. Hermione managed a weak smile at Slughorn as she restrained herself from turning and socking Malfoy in the nose for the third time. "Thank you, Professor."

"Of course, of course. . . ." Slughorn straightened suddenly, turning fully to address Hermione with an eager expression on his face. "In fact, while I have you here, Miss Granger—will you be free next Friday evening? I will be hosting a small dinner event for my Slug Club, see. . . ."

Hermione inwardly grimaced. The shallowness and favoritism that the Slug Club promoted was wholly unappealing to her, and she'd been hoping to avoid any invitations altogether this year, but it looked like such a prospect was dim. Rejecting Slughorn's invitation right after his buttered compliments of her—which, she was beginning to realize, was a very calculated move on the professor's part—wouldn't exactly reflect politely on her.

There was nothing else to do but accept. Hermione pasted a painful smile on her face and nodded at Slughorn. "Sure, Professor."

Slughorn clapped his hands. "Wonderful, wonderful! I will be sending the official invites out very soon, so keep an eye out!" He checked his watch quickly and yelped. "Dear Merlin! If you will excuse me, I must start class. . . ."

And, with that, he bustled off towards the front of the classroom, and Hermione and Malfoy were left on their own.

"You git," Hermione immediately hissed at Malfoy as soon as Slughorn was out of earshot. She forcefully slammed her bookbag down on the desk and sank onto her stool, scooching it as far away from Malfoy as possible. "Special permission to brew in an empty classroom? Seriously?"

He shrugged innocently. "I know, I know—I'm a genius."

If steam could puff out of Hermione's ears, she'd be resembling the Hogwarts Express. "You orchestrated this!"

Malfoy merely arched an elegant brow at her just as Slughorn announced the beginning of class from the front of the classroom. "I orchestrated nothing. All I did was ensure that I could fulfill my end of our deal—and you agreed to our deal just like I did."

There was nothing else Hermione could do but glare at the smug blonde next to her as class proceeded. Slughorn went about scrawling out brewing assignments for each pair of partners onto the large blackboard in the front of the classroom; despite her situation, the irony was not lost on Hermione when she and Malfoy were assigned to brew Polyjuice Potion.

With all of the potions assigned and all of the students in the class chaotically clambering around the classroom to pile into the supply closet; collect ingredients from the wooden shelves and cupboards lining the stone walls, all filled with an array of jars containing pickled animals, mysteriously bubbling liquids, and various other potions ingredients; coordinate brewing tasks with their partners; and pelt Slughorn with questions, Hermione didn't hesitate before marching straight out of the classroom, levitating her and Malfoy's empty cauldron along with her over her head as she waded through the fumes that were already wafting out of her fellow classmates' cauldrons.

Slughorn had designated the empty classroom adjacent to the Potions one for Hermione and Malfoy's usage, and Hermione had to admit that it was quite an ideal brewing environment as she opened the door and stepped inside.

The classroom was architecturally extremely similar to their Potion's classroom—the gray stone walls, which were lined with empty wooden shelves and cupboards, curved upwards to create a domed ceiling over the numerous empty desks and stools scattered around the classroom. The few candles that littered across the walls had magically flickered to life with Hermione's presence, shining light throughout the classroom, though it clearly wasn't enough—there was a dim, hazy atmosphere all over, which would only be helped by the fumes of the Polyjuice Potion that Hermione was going to brew within the classroom.

She levitated the cauldron down onto the platform of the central table by the front of the classroom so that it partially blocked the blackboard on the wall before observing her surroundings with approval. A fat leather armchair was in the corner—it would be good for relaxing in in between brewing steps for the potion. The classroom overall was large and drafty; the coolness of the dungeons permeated the space, creating an ideal resting environment for Polyjuice Potion. The classroom also had mutual access to Slughorn's supply closet, so Hermione thankfully wouldn't have to rush back and forth from the Potions classroom for supplies and ingredients.

"Pretty nice, huh?" came Malfoy's voice from behind Hermione, and she immediately felt her admiration for the brewing space shrivel up inside her. He came through the door and bypassed her, immediately making himself comfortable in the fat armchair by the front, looking infuriatingly smug. "No need to thank me for my genius idea."

Admitting that Malfoy's request to Slughorn was smart and thanking him for it was just about the last thing Hermione would ever do during her lifetime. She rolled her eyes, choosing not to respond to him. Maybe this would be fine after all—she could just channel all of her energy towards brewing the potion; that way, other than when Malfoy contributed to helping out, she could just tune him out and hopefully avert any annoyance towards him into perfecting the potion instead.

Ignoring Malfoy, who had levitated a desk over and had propped his feet up on it, Hermione glanced down at the empty cauldron in front of her and squinted her eyes in concentration to recall her next steps.

"Fluxweed, knotgrass, lacewing flies, leeches, powdered horn of Bicorn, and boomslang skin," she recited loudly. The Polyjuice Potion ingredients list was simple enough—it was the brewing steps that were complex.

Silence.

Hermione looked up at Malfoy, who hadn't moved an inch. "Well?"

He blinked and stared back at her incredulously. "You want me to go fetch your ingredients? I'm not your house-elf!"

Hermione boiled indignantly. "Oh, how rich of you to say! We're partners, for god's sake! You can't just sit around while I do all the work!"

"Wha—you haven't even done anything yet!"

"I was going to go collect supplies while you got the ingredients!"

"That doesn't even make sense! They're both in the supply closet—you can get both at the same time, can't you?"

"Oh, you entitled—" Hermione lifted her wand, and Malfoy yelped as the armchair he was lounging on slid across to the opposite side of the classroom, depositing him onto the bare stone ground with a loud thud.

"WHAT THE HELL, GRANGER?"

"You did acknowledge that I'd be bossy," said Hermione, shrugging casually and reveling in the satisfying sight of Malfoy sprawled unceremoniously on the floor in front of her. He barely managed to right himself before leveling Hermione with a murderous glare and silently storming into the supply closet.

After Malfoy returned with the supplies and ingredients, he settled back into the armchair, silently glaring at Hermione as she began the brewing process in the cauldron. That was fine with her—she'd probably pushed Malfoy enough today, and it was nice to work in peace and quiet with no distractions.

Ten minutes later, Hermione was in the middle of dropping lacewing flies into a spare cauldron for stewing, when—

"Granger."

From where he was still lounging in the fat armchair across the classroom, Malfoy was eyeing her with unadulterated suspicion.

"What?" asked Hermione, irritated. He'd nearly messed up her counting of the lacewing flies.

"How do you know exactly how to brew Polyjuice Potion without even looking at the textbook?"

"How do you not know?" Hermione shot back. "Didn't your goons drink it when you were experimenting in the Room of Requirement?"

Malfoy stared at her like she was stupid. "You think I brewed Polyjuice for them? I bought it off one of Father's connections, of course." He narrowed his eyes. "So that means you've brewed it yourself before?"

"I—no."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Of course you did."

Hermione shrugged. "Perhaps."

"For what?"

"Sneaking into the Slytherin Common Room."

"What?"

"Hmmm, stew for twenty-one days. . . ." Hermione prodded at the lacewing flies. "Or was it twenty?"

"Sneaking into the Slytherin Common Room? For what?"

"Must be twenty-one. . . ."

"Granger!"

Hermione looked up, annoyed. "What?" she snapped.

Malfoy stared at her. "Well? Care to explain why you brewed Polyjuice to sneak into the Slytherin Common Room?"

"Maybe if you come over and help me check if this fluxweed has discoloration over it."

Malfoy huffed, but after a moment of grumbling lowly, he voluntarily picked himself up from the armchair and went over to the fluxweed. After a moment of inspection, he grunted, "Yes."

"There is discoloration?"

"Yes."

Hermione sighed. "That means it wasn't picked during a full moon. We need fluxweed that is. I can probably ask Professor Sprout about that."

"Okay." Malfoy arched an impatient eyebrow at her, tapping his foot. "So?"

"In second year, Harry thought you were the Heir of Slytherin, so I brewed Polyjuice Potion in the girl's bathroom on the second floor so that Harry and Ron could transform into Crabbe and Goyle to infiltrate the Slytherin Common Room and talk to you."

There was a moment of silence. Hermione looked up just as Malfoy barked a loud laugh, looking half-surprised and half-entertained. "Potter thought I was the Heir of Slytherin? Oh, this is golden." He rubbed his chin in thought. "Was that the time when Goyle was wearing glasses for some reason? I always did think it was suspicious that he'd said he'd been reading."

"I suppose," said Hermione offhandedly, suddenly eager to turn the conversation away from this topic. She already knew what he was about to ask before he did.

"So, why didn't you go?"

And there it was. Malfoy was eyeing Hermione with interest. "You didn't go with them as Pansy or something? Millicent?"

"I didn't want to," she lied shortly. Merlin knows what Malfoy would do if he knew she'd accidentally transformed not into Millicent Bulstrode, but her cat.

Besides, as trivial as it sounded, that occurrence was a sore point for her to think about—she'd done so good but messed up at the last minute. As far as she was concerned, Hermione Granger never messed up at the last minute.

Malfoy was still talking. "So you've never been in the Slytherin Common Room?"

"No."

"Not even a peek."

"No."

"I could take you."

Hermione paused from measuring the lacewing flies and looked up to frown at Malfoy with suspicion. "Take me into the Slytherin Common Room?"

He nodded casually. "Sure."

"Uh—was that a joke?"

"No. I can really take you."

"Why?"

"I just want you to have the same experience as Potter and the Weasel."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "No, you don't. Why?"

Malfoy curled his lip. "Well, it'd also be the most entertaining thing I'd have ever witnessed."

Hermione straightened and squinted defensively, lacewing flies forgotten momentarily. "And why's that?"

"Hermione Granger in the snake pit?" He sneered. "Please. You'd get eaten alive."

"Okay, then. Take me."

"I—what?"

"Take me to the Slytherin Common Room," repeated Hermione seriously. She gritted her teeth in defiance—she hadn't survived a war just for Malfoy to underestimate her. She wasn't just a bookworm with frizzy hair anymore—she was a war heroine, and she could handle a few hostile Slytherins if that's what Malfoy thought she couldn't do.

Malfoy blinked, as if he hadn't actually expected her to accept his proposal, and the action only strengthened Hermione's resolve to go through with it.

"Seriously?" he smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Another deal with me already?"

Hermione smiled back. "I guess so."