"I don’t care if she’s a muggleborn, Pansy! My mother was a muggleborn.”

“Well, at least your mother bothered to assimilate herself into our world. She knew her place and didn’t constantly show off!”

“Knew her place!”

Harry had hoped, as he walked back from his ‘detention’, that the other first years would be occupied enough to allow him to sneak to bed. He has a nasty taste in his mouth from the potions (which even a huge slab of cake couldn’t totally erase), his mended bones ached and there was a nasty tightness in his throat and chest.

However, when Harry opened the Door into the common room and almost stepped into Pansy and Daphne’s hissed argument, it struck him that, in a place such as Hogwarts, one should be careful in choosing one’s wishes.

As Harry slipped past the snarling girls, he saw that, in the corner of the common room, where a few chairs were gathered around one of the smaller fireplaces, Hermione was sitting, crying. Tracy Davies patted her hand sympathetically and Blaise was leaning forward in his chair, talking to Hermione earnestly. Draco and Theo hung hesitantly a yard or so behind Hermione’s chair; Theo was looking guilty, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, and Draco appeared torn between joining Blaise and Tracy in comforting the weeping girl or running away.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked Draco softly.

“Um, well, the Mu, I mean Hermione’s been having a hard time.” confided Draco. “It’s about, you know, what happened earlier today.”

“The Gryffs have turned on her.” said Theo miserably “Calling her names and pushing her around and stuff. And then, just when Daff and Blaise got her calmed down, I opened my big gob and set her off again.”

“Girls are sensitive” said Greg Goyle quietly, he was sitting on the floor in a huddle with Vincent Crabbe and Millicent, ostensibly playing cards. “I put me foot in it all the time. Best if the likes of us say nowt and let Blaise do the talking.”

Theo looked slightly offended with being classed, in intellectual terms, with Vin and Greg. However, after a moment he sighed and said “Yeah, well, Dad says if I’ve got any muggle in me, it’s the bit responsible for diplomacy.”

Draco rolled his eyes.

Harry looked over at Hermione, who was still sniffling, and caught Blaise’s eye. Blaise jerked his head significantly and Harry obediently walked over and sat down beside him.

“Hermione, I don’t think you’ve met Harry. He’s our resident bookworm. Say ‘hello’ to the nice lady, Wormy.” Blaise said, in a gently playful tone. Hermione looked up and gave a watery grin.

“Hi.” Harry smiled: there was something infectious about Blaise’s good-humoured irreverence.

“The girls in Hermione’s dorm have been rather unpleasant to her, so she’s stopping with us for the evening.”

“They burnt my textbooks” whispered Hermione in a quivering voice “and... and my parents are muggles, they can’t get to Diagon Alley! And I can’t even Owl-Order my b..books because I d...don’t have any Galleons! And they said that if I t...told any of the teachers, it wouldn’t j…just be my books!” the girl sobbed “They made fun of my hair and my teeth and they called me a mm…mudblood!”

Harry looked over at Blaise, appalled. Blaise gave him an old fashioned look “And they call us the bigots, Harry.”

Harry sat and thought for a minute. He knew, from personal experience, that, if someone warned you not to tell and you told, then you’d only get it worse. Although the girls were only children, as opposed to adults like Aunt Petunia, it sounded as if there were a number of them and Harry also knew that when Social Services heard Dudley back up his mother’s story, they believed Dudley and Petunia because it was two people’s words against his.

But, and it was a big but, Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey had discovered what was happening to Harry without Harry even saying anything to them. And they had that truth potion; they could give it to the Gryff girls. And Hermione looked like she needed a hug and Harry couldn’t give it to her because he might look a perv and, if he told anyone else to give her a hug, he’d definitely look a perv. Madam Pomfrey, however, knew when and how to give out hugs.

“Blaise, we’ve got to get Professor Snape.” Harry said earnestly.

“Nnnooo” whimpered Hermione. “They’ll be even worse if we tell. They said they would.” Tracy pressed her hand, looking sad.

“But, Professor Snape’ll protect you!” said Harry “He…” Harry hesitated, no, he couldn’t tell her that! “He said at start of term he protects his students.”

“But I’m not his student. Everyone says he hates Gryffindors.” wailed the weeping girl.

“By ‘everyone’ you mean ‘every Gryffindor’.” Draco drawled, leaning on the back of Harry’s chair “but they would, considering how Gryff’s treat us ‘slimy snakes’. My father, who is Professor Snape’s particular friend, says that our Head of House hates bullying with a vengeance.”

“See, Hermione?” said Harry.

“But… but he can’t protect me all the time.” replied Hermione desperately “I have to share a dorm with them!” Tracy put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

Blaise nodded, apparently deep in thought.

“But, can’t they just put you somewhere else?” asked Harry. This seemed so unfair. If Professor Snape could get Harry away from the Dursleys, he could surely help Hermione?

“You mean re-sort her into a different House?” Malfoy raised a blond eyebrow “Well, it has been done but not for at least fifty years.”

“Why did the Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor, Hermione?” asked Blaise. “It always discusses it’s reasoning, or so I’ve heard.”

The girl blushed and her eyes darted to Harry. “It, er, said I was brave.” She muttered, studying the carpet industriously.

Blaise looked at her inquiringly. Then his eyebrows rose. “Ah,” a grin played at the corners of his mouth “I guess it’s just a pity that your surname’s not Quentin.”

Hermione looked up, her brown eyes wide but, seeing only kindly amusement in Blaise’s eyes, she blushed a rosy red. “Something like that, yes.”

“Wha…”

“The Quentins are a traditionally Ravenclaw family, Draco; very daring theorists, I hear.” Blaise said quickly “Now, if we can get you re-sorted, you need to think where you would be best placed. From what I’ve heard, you are very bright so Ravenclaw is definitely an option…”

“But Padma, Parvati’s sister is in Ravenclaw” moaned Hermione.

“Yes and the Eagles aren’t a very snugly bunch. High IQs and, generally speaking, quite low EIs.” added Tracy.

“What does that mean?” queried Draco.

“It means people like me.” muttered Theo “‘IQ’ is ‘intelligence quotient’ and ‘EI’ stands for ‘emotional intelligence’. A high IQ means that you are intelligent and a high EI means that you know how to talk to people without upsetting them.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry I got upset earlier” said Hermione quietly “I know you were just trying to being kind when you said it shouldn’t matter to them if I was a mm…mudblood.”

“Yeah… well” replied Theo, flushing and buried his hands deep into his pockets.

“Anyway,” said Blaise smoothly “I think that Hufflepuff is probably a good bet. Although the Puffies may have the reputation for being ‘nice but dim’, they have their share of bright students and, with their sense of fair-play and loyalty, they can be pretty fierce in defence of their own.”

“Or” Draco said hesitantly “Perhaps Slytherin.” Theo and Blaise looked, incredulously, at the scion of the proud, pureblood and exceptionally prejudiced house of Malfoy. Draco doggedly continued “Mu…uggle-borns are rare in this House, it’s true, but we have had one or two over the years. We’re quite… welcoming of muggleborns who wish to properly assimilate themselves into the Wizarding world.” Draco sighed. He hoped Daddy, ah, I mean Father, wouldn’t think he had gone too far.

“And,” continued Blaise thoughtfully “even Slytherin and Gryffindor were, at one time, fast friends and Gryffindor was a muggle-born.”

“The Puffies tend to have classes with the Ravenclaws” ventured Theo. “Er, Padma Patil.”

“And she does know us all now.” said Daphne, who had joined Tracy in comforting Hermione.

“What’s happening here?!” Demanded Pansy, marching up with an ill tempered expression.

“Hermione’s being re-sorted into Slytherin.” said Theo firmly.

“Wha..?”

“Leave it, Pansy.” Draco said quietly.

“Oh, I see” said Pansy narrowing her eyes. “Excuse me, I’m going to finish my homework.”

As she flounced off, Millicent lumbered to her feet and headed after her. Blaise rubbed his temples.

“I suppose someone ought to find Professor Snape.”

oOoOo

When the motley group of first years reached the Professor’s office, however, their pounding on his door met with no answer. The Potions Master was, in fact, many miles south, in Surrey.