"Al'righ, al'righ, settle down theh're kids!" Hagrid boomed jovially over the chattering crowd of students. There were two distinct groups of scarlet/gold and emerald/silver, except for the very middle where Harry decided to insert himself. People were chattering collectively, excited for the new day and their first class with the newly appointed professor, Rubeus Hagrid. Harry usually steered clear of any Slytherins, and hated being up front when he was a child…but Hagrid was his friend and Harry knew few people he felt completely safe with like he did with the kind half-giant. Plus, he was excited to see things go well this time for new professor. At least, he hoped they would.

The day itself was beautiful. The coolness of the morning was still present but the gentle sunshine that reached past the fluffy white clouds warmed and balanced the temperature to an incredibly pleasant level. It was the farthest edge of summer and the near beginning of fall, and as such the weather was agreeable and had a peaceful air to it. Harry closed his eyes as a breeze drifted by and he could hear the rustling of trees in the Forbidden Forest (which they were right beside as Hagrid's Hut was located on its edge) and could smell some late blooming flowers still. Opening his eyes, Harry let the happy sounds of classmates and the grounds of his beloved school to fill his ever anxious heart. Because it was not easy for him to be here, so very soon, in this forest. The memory of his last visit here was decidedly unpleasant.

Draco Malfoy had arrived by this time, seeing Hagrid jovially greeting some students, his trusty hound Fang by his side in front of his hut. He too was sharing a bit of the same thoughts that Harry did, his own trepidation while small was still present. Pansy was chattering on while smoothing out her hair from the rustling breeze. Draco hummed his usual non-committed sounds to show he was still listening when he really wasn't. It was a trait he had learned from his father, who would often have to entertain aristocratic guests and politicians in their home. Lucius Malfoy's charm did him wonders, as he seemed polite enough when he wanted to. But if you knew him well, you could tell when he was disinterested and snubbing you.

Draco shook his head, trying not to get anxious about dealing with his father just yet. That bridge did not bear a need to cross for a while yet. And he was confident Potter would be there alongside every step of the way.

As Hagrid tried to shush the kids, Draco noticed Longbottom struggling with his pack, he being towards the back of the Gryffindor group. With a sigh of pity for the boy, he walked over.

"Stop that, Longbottom, or you'll get eaten alive by the thing." Just as Draco said this, a shriek came from where he had just come from and he turned—along with everyone else—and saw Theodore jumping about, his Monster Book of Monsters nipping at his heels. Hagrid deftly (well, as much as a half-giant could be) swiped up the book. It squealed a bit and then growled.

"What on earth were you thinking, assigning us this…this thing?" Theo yelled. Draco winced at the look in Hagrid's eyes.

"Well, I though' they were funny…" Hagrid replied, a bit uncertain.

Before the Trio had a chance to say anything, the blond Slytherin beat them to it with a small but uncharacteristically genuine smile.

"I think they are, too." Everyone looked at him as if he had gone nuts.

"And it's not so hard to tame them, right Hagr—I mean, Professor? See—" Draco reached into Neville's growling pack and snatched out the Monster Book, ran a couple fingers down the spine, and let it coo a growl of submission as it opened peaceably enough.

Harry and Hermione beamed, Ron looking contemplative.

Draco handed the book back to a wide-eyed Neville before rejoining his fellow Slytherins.

"Good job, Mr. Malfoy!" Hagrid beamed, and totally surprised. "Er, five points to Slytherin for helping a classmate!" Ron groaned and Hagrid sent him a somewhat apologetic look.

"He earned it, you know." Harry leaned into the red-head and said.

"Bloody nuisance is what he is. What's he trying to prove?" Ron grumbled as the entire class about forgot the book drama as Hagrid unveiled the beautiful Hippogriffs.

Harry smiled as he spot Buckbeak, then replied, "Everything, Ron."

"Did you see that?" Neville came up to them and whispered, darting unsure looks at the creatures and then Draco.

"Yeah, mate." Harry replied, smiling thoughtfully. "Looks like Dr-er, Malfoy might not hate us after all." Ron snorted and muttered under his breath "bloody likely."

Hagrid had a time shushing the excited and wary chatter from the about-thirteen-year-olds. He then asked, a bit loudly to ensure attention was on him, "Now then! Who can tell me abou' what these lurv'ley creature are?" Hagrid asked and all eyes almost immediately went to Hermione. But she ignored it and kept an attentive gaze on Hagrid, who was also looking at her expectedly now. Harry frowned softly, filing this action away to think about later when Ron cleared his throat and raised a hand. Hagrid blinked and then said "Oh-ah! Mr. Weasley? What kind of answer have ye' got fer me, lad?" Hagrid looked prepared for a wrong one, but still had hope in his eyes.

"It's a Hippogriff, sir." Ron explained. "They're proud creatures, but also really loyal." He gulped, not used to being academic like this and wondering what on earth Hermione ever liked about it when they were children.

"Wh-well! Right ye' are, Ronald!" Hagrid exclaimed, whapping him on the back with a friendly hand and awarding him with five points. Harry beamed as he saw Ron's ears turn pink and Hermione smile and place a hand on his wrist, which trembled slightly.

Draco smirked while the others whispered, wondering when Ron Weasley had started paying attention to something other than food and Quidditch. The class oo'ed and ahh'ed when Hagrid once again took control of the floor.

"Now, firs' thing yeh gotta know abou' hippogriffs is, like Ron ere' said, is they're proud. Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don't never insult one, 'cause it might be the last thing yeh do. Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs' move. It's polite, see? Yeh walk towards him, and yeh bow, an' yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh're allowed to touch him. If he doesn' bow, then get away from him sharpish, 'cause those talons hurt."

A majority of the group, Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, were looking at Hagrid as if he had grown two heads. Harry just smiled fondly. He then leaned into Ron,

"You know we can't answer questions like that…it's not fair." But the smirk his wore told he had an inkling why Ron did it.

"I'm not gonna let Malfoy one-up us on points, thanks." He huffed and Harry chuckled.

Zabini was absentmindedly petting the edge of his monster book as he grazed the writing on the page about hippogriffs. Nott was straightening his tie, trying to look disinterested. Pansy was biting her lip and clutching her chest, an odd glimmer in her eye as if she longed to pet the creatures. Draco just stuck his hands in his pockets and stood there lazily, completely unfazed by the magical creatures. He had seen far worse and intimidating in his day. But with a smile he did concede they were beautiful just the same. Buckbeak's feathers glistened small rainbows in the sheen of the specked grey colors, proving a particularly lovely specimen.

"Now then! 'Ny volunt'ere's to approach one?" Hagrid clapped his hands happily.

Harry then had a wild thought, and taking a bit of a risk, he jabbed Neville (who had inched a bit in front of him now to peer into the paddock) sharply in the side, making the poor boy jump and squeak. A number of Slytherins and a couple Gryffindors giggled and made Neville flush, he turning to Harry with a confused look of betrayal.

"Ah! Good man, Longbottom! C'mon then! In yeh go!" Hagrid wrongly assumed Neville's shriek was his way of volunteering, much to Harry's delight. Harry saw Neville's eyes widen, not daring to take them off of Harry. Harry however winked, turned him around and gently pushed the boy through the gate, whispering, "You'll do great, I know it."

The class then witnessed Neville Longbottom of all people follow Hagrid's instructions to a 't' and after being thrust atop the creature (Neville whimpering unintelligibly) and without another delay, Buckbeak and Neville flew straightaway into the air, most of Gryffindor running after and cheering loudly.

And that was how Hagrid's first ever class ended. A complete success.

"That was brilliant!" Hermione gushed happily as the trio hiked back up the hill after the class finished. They had stayed behind to congratulate Hagrid's wonderful teaching skills (and because they missed hanging out with him) and so were just now coming back to the castle.

"Yeah, good thing Malfoy didn't muck it up this time." Ron sniffed. Harry rolled his eyes. They now found the steps and were popping up them and through the huge doors and entering the first floor.

"Why is it you are always going on about me? Must be an obsession." Draco suavely joined them from behind a pillar as they walked by, nearly startling Ron. His ears did turn pink again though at being caught off guard.

"How come you're always stalking us, huh? I'd say that looks more obsessive, thanks." Ron exclaimed.

"I'm not stalking...least of all you. Merlin knows I'd have more fun watching grass grow." Draco stuck his nose up in the air, folding his hands behind him in a dignified position as they continued to walk through the hallways.

"Can't we all just get along?" Harry sighed.

"Malfoy had his chance." Ron replied hatefully. Draco looked surprisingly hurt but didn't argue.

"Everyone deserves a second chance, Ron." Harry said softly but with meaning. Ron looked a bit ashamed then, but didn't say anything else.

"Well?" Minerva practically pounced on the man in dark billowy robes. She had waited almost five minutes for him to pass this corner (he was so predictable in his usual rounds of stalking the corridors).

"Well is a deep subject." He simply replied. Minerva huffed.

"How dare you be cheeky with me, you scamp. Keep it up and I'll let slip Slytherin's entrance passwords to the Weasley twins." She snarked right back, managing to keep up with Snape's long-legged stride (he hadn't broken rhythm since she popped up).

Snape just raised a brow at the threat. "Blackmail? Hmm...how positively Slytherin of you, Minerva."

Minerva stopped in her tracks and scoffed in a huffed outrage, before hiking up her robes and running to catch up to the lanky Potions Master.

"Cheek! That's what I get for my efforts—"

He snorted. It was a wonder, but then he was usually more relaxed with McGonagall and Dumbledore when no one else was around. They had by now stopped in front of an empty classroom entrance.

"I want you to tell me what's going on with Potter and the Malfoy boy." Minerva finally confessed, cheeks tinging a slight shade of pink for having to give in like that. But darn it all to Merlin's outhouse, her curiosity had been nagging her all morning. Maybe her animagus had more influence on her than she knew…

"You need me to give you an update on one of your atrocious lions? My, we are slipping…"

McGonagall's bun frizzed, making him smirk. "You know what I meant."

Snape actually rolled his eyes at her.

"I am still assessing their collective motives and ruling out any….foul play afoot."

Minerva put her hands on her hips. "You don't know either, you little tease." Her accent deepened as her eyes sparkled with mirth. Snape scowled horribly.

"Mark my words, Professor McGonagall, I will find out. Because if this is some cruel prank by Potter and his cronies, you better believe I will put an end to it!" He hissed.

Minerva gasped. "Severus! You know Harry wouldn't do something like that! I just thought…"

"What? What did you think?! That he would welcome a Slytherin?"

"Draco joined their table!"

"And why would he voluntarily involve himself with them, hmm?" Snape asked sarcastically. Minerva was getting frustrated, Snape always found a way to spoil her fun and turn things into an argument.

"Maybe—" But Snape shushed her and glided over to a corner, back to the wall. He knew those voices…

"What—"

Snape shushed her again with a hiss and she practically stomped over to him in sheer spite.

"Will you be quiet, you sound like a herd of hippogriffs!" He whispered furiously. If she wasn't so interested in his peculiarities right now she'd have boxed his ears for that, co-worker or not.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, what are we doing—" But she stopped dead silent as steps were clearly coming that way.

"…Must be an obsession." Minerva and Snape shared a look as it was Malfoy's voice.

"How come you're always stalking us, huh? I'd say that looks more obsessive, thanks." This was the Weasley boy in Potter's year. Ronald.

"I'm not stalking...least of all you. Merlin knows I'd have more fun watching grass grow." Snape snorted softly at that despite himself. Young Draco certainly had his father's wit coupled with his mother's sass. He felt Minerva glaring at him.

"Can't we all just get along?" Harry sighed. They had passed with the two overly curious professors undetected.

"Malfoy had his chance."

"Everyone deserves a second chance, Ron."

And that was all they heard before the foursome turned a corner to go up the staircase.

"Did you hear that? Foul play my right paw!" Minerva spouted in pride, while Snape had a distant look about his eyes, brows crinkled in deep thought.

"Then it's Potter." Snape declared in suspicion, eyes narrowed, and for the second time that day Minerva's bubble burst because of him.

"What diabolical plan has your paranoid mind made up now?" She sighed, folding her arms and containing her glee. She couldn't wait to tell Albus, he would be ecstatic.

"That if a Potter doesn't act like a Potter, then there's got to be a reason. And I'm going to find out what that reason is." And he twisted away, robes swirling perfectly, heading back to the dungeons for his next class.

Minerva stared after him at a complete loss. What on this good green earth did that mean?

A few feet away, in the empty classroom, Lupin stood out of sight but within hearing. In his hands clutched was an old lesson book, one he had dug around for to find. It had scribbles all over, tattered binding and some loose pages. But it was precious to him, something to ease the ache settling in his heart.

It was an old DADA textbook, one that had belonged to Sirius Black. He was surprised it was still where they had left it, in this room's old cabinet. It was here where they had had the class back then, and Sirius was one of the students who utilized storing his books under desks or in the room themselves. He never liked bringing them along unless absolutely necessary. And he usually mooched off of James or Peter or even Lupin himself for homework. Not that they minded, he remembered with a sad smile.

The scribbles inside were from all four of them, notes and comments, doodles and drawings. Some of the drawings were even still animated, he noted as he flipped through it before snapping it shut as he heard Snape and McGonagall outside. His chest pinched a bit in anxiety, he wasn't too much in the mood for Snape's bitterness at the moment.

The ensuing banter and slight bickering though let him see a side he had never had before of the man. He had a humor for one thing.

It saddened him to hear how deep the man's bitterness ran though…and how he suspected Harry of awful deeds. Was Harry like that? Lupin didn't know…but doubted that since meeting him, and hearing such admiration in Minerva's voice. Besides, James Potter through the biased lenses of Severus Snape was one thing, but his son was quite another. Happy anticipation filled a bit of his chest then, realizing Harry would be in his first class later this day. He hugged the book, asking James and Peter in his heart to give him their luck that he didn't mess anything up this time.

"Thanks for what you did back there by the way." Harry said, clasping Draco's shoulder in a warm friendly half-hug. The blonde immediately blushed and shrugged off the affection, smoothing out his robes.

"Careful Potter, you'll wrinkle my clothes!" But then a tiny smile crept his face. "But you're welcome. I figured Hagrid needed the backup."

"Yeah, at least this time things went the way they should have in the first place." Ron mumbled.

"Well I think it was brilliant, Malfoy." Hermione smiled back, but sure to take Ron's elbow to let him know he was still her number one.

Draco just huffed with his nose slightly in the air, but remained walking with them up the stairs.

"Isn't your dormitory in the opposite direction?" Ron commented, eyes squinted.

"Oh, I um…so it is." Draco stopped in his tracks looking blank and completely lost for a moment.

"C'mon with us, it's alright." Harry said, pulling on Draco's robes up to him. "We're just going to grab a few things, drop off these monster books." Ron looked wary of the Slytherin coming into Gryffindor territory. It was one thing to come to the defense of Hagrid, but completely another to just waltz into the lion's den!

Draco waited most awkwardly outside the hole behind the portrait where Harry and his two friends climbed through. Neville had come by, absolutely shocked to see Draco there, who noticed the timid Gryffindor's face fall upon the realization before he too climbed through (whispering the password so Draco could not hear, much as Weasley had done a few minutes before).

The snake in the lion's den leaned back on the wall, arms folded and expression lazy at best. Inside he was very anxious but right now he had to pull on a façade in case any other impetuous lions stomped by.

This was how a certain Potions Master found him.

"Draco." He greeted, startling Draco out of his thoughts.

"Oh, um, hello sir." Draco replied, completely taken off guard by the man's appearance. He was surprisingly light on his feet, given how tall he was.

Snape held up a long-sleeved hand and motioned him to approach his place near the corner, where it wasn't so brightly lit. Draco did so obediently, but his heart thudded as if a house elf decided to jump up and down on it with rocks attached at the feet. It gave him a nasty flashback to those dark days during Sixth Year when Snape would often try to guide him and give him advice in the rare moments they found alone (or Potter-free); his motions and expression were the same. It made him sick to even think about those moments. He had been so stupid. And Snape had been trying to help.

When he was close, Snape mirrored his former position in folding his arms, but his eyes were bright and alert. Draco silently reminded himself he was not a Death Eater, this was not Sixth Year and that Harry would be coming any minute now. He was safe, and Snape was on his side.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing up here?" he hissed softly. Draco furrowed his brow.

"I'm waiting on Har—I mean, Potter." Draco decided anything but the truth Snape could detect as an outright lie.

"For what possible reason?" Snape's tone was harsh still, even as his voice was barely above a whisper, but there was a concern there that Draco had rarely heard in the man's tone. Even in Sixth Year.

"We're going to do some studying in the library before our next class." Draco answered honestly. He didn't have to tell the man what they were studying had nothing to do with any class taught at Hogwarts.

"Forgive me," Snape began, his tone laced heavily in irony and sarcasm, "but I was under the impression, as was this entire school, that the two of you would rather lick the mud off Filch's boots than willingly spend time with one other."

Draco crinkled up his nose, much like his mother did when she saw a dirty spot in her china. "That's disgusting, why did you put it that way?"

"Watch your cheek. My point is, this does not make sense." Snape narrowed his eyes. "If you mean to take advantage of him, you're not being very Slytherin about it."

Draco felt something inside himself wilt just a bit, first for the implication that he would use Harry in such a way, and the other being the fact that Snape seemingly had no problem with that other than it being a bit blatant and obvious. Knowing what he knew about Harry's feelings toward the man, this made him more angry than offended.

"I'm not trying to use him!" Draco hissed back, throwing caution to the wind in his emotion. "He's my friend!" He suddenly back peddled and clasped his hand to his mouth, not meaning to have said that out loud yet.

Snape also looked surprised, and straightened his vest in his discomfort, merely for something to do with his hands.

"Since when?" Snape asked, incredulous.

Draco looked to the floor and shrugged. "I don't know…" he answered honestly. "It just…sort of happened."

Snape narrowed his eyes in thought, the silence filling the space between them for a moment. And then he spoke evenly,

"I would advise you to be careful, Mr. Malfoy. Potter and his band of misfits will likely try to use you in some fashion, and in Gryffindor terms that means humiliation rather than to achieve something valuable like a Slytherin would. Gryffindors and Slytherins do not mix."

Draco was about to further defend Harry when said Gryffindor slid out of the portrait hole.

"Tread carefully, Draco." Snape said in farewell, and Draco couldn't help feeling it was almost a threat.

"So what did he want?" Harry asked as Malfoy joined him, Ron popping through the hole next.

"He was concerned about our...relationship."

"Bloody git ought to stick his big nose in something other than our business." Huffed Ron, dusting off his pants.

"Ronnnn." Harry reprimanded. "He's just worried about Draco."

Ron huffed again but said nothing as he helped Hermione out. Draco decided to keep the first part of his conversation to himself for now. It's not like Harry needed more evidence of how little the man thought of him as a person. And it bothered him how much that knowledge would hurt the Boy Who Lived.

They walked down the staircase, Harry waving to a jovial Colin on his way up with a gaggle of other Second Years.

"I suppose we shouldn't have been so obvious." Harry muttered as they trotted down. Malfoy huffed.

"Having second thoughts on being seen with a Slytherin?" he spat, looking where his feet were stepping and not at Harry. No matter how much he believed in Potter, Snape's words cut deeply. Deeply into a very real fear and insecurity inside himself.

"Yes." Ron answered without missing a beat. Malfoy shot him a glare and Hermione sighed heavily.

"Draco! No, of course not!" Harry gasped, clasping his shoulder.

"I just don't want to make this harder on you." Malfoy nodded at Harry's words, comforted.
"Besides," Harry continued, "It's going to be difficult to explain away our fast friendship. I just wasn't aware Snape was watching us so closely." He wiped his face beneath his glasses, making them askew a bit before straightening them. "I suppose we need to be aware of all the teachers watching us. Waiting, even. Especially if we're hanging out and not hexing one another."

Malfoy chuckled at that. "They'll be surprised then."

Harry smiled. "I certainly hope so."

"I remember there being a few books on time travel theory around this section somewhere…" Hermione said, walking quickly about the library shelves, hands touching books as she passed. Ron was carrying a few of her selections already, two volumes on magic and its effect in children, one specializing in the implementation of the Trace, a volume on sleeping draughts, one on Ministry law, a small one on healing creams and was now perusing (having found the section finally) a hefty volume called Time Travel and You: What Was, Is and Could Still Be. Harry and Draco were following close behind, Harry lingering over a section on magical creatures, and by extension, Animagi. Draco was chuckling softly as Ron struggled in silence with the heap pf Hermione's books, Hermione being unaware as she was engrossed in scanning the text to see if it had what they were looking for.

"You..mmyaph…help a guy out, you tosser." Ron mumbled aside to Draco.

"And keep you from building those muscles? Perish the thought, my dear Weasley." Draco deadpanned with a smirk. Ron merely rolled his eyes, expecting an answer like that.

"Yes! This has what we need!" Hermione yelped happily suddenly, slapping the book shut and looking bright like her old self. Madam Pince shushed her, to which she immediately blushed and then led the boys back to a comfortable nook in the farthest corner, away from earshot from everyone.

Harry joined them moments later, a few thinner books in his possession, and added them to the pile. Draco grabbed one and looked curiously at the title.

"'Magical Creatures and the Magical Folk: Understanding Incurable Transformations'?" He read aloud, but softly so Pince wouldn't come over just to shoosh them again.

Harry smiled sheepishly. "I want to better understand Lycanthropy, maybe to ease Remus's time of it if I can later."

Ron grabbed the other two. "'Animagi and You'…'Herbs and Potions: Using the Earth Around Us for the Betterment of Wizardkind'?"

Harry chuckled now. "Why are you both questioning me when Hermione has a book five inches thick?"

The three laughed softly at her, engrossed in said book.

"So," Draco began after the companionable moment, "What are our first priorities?"

"Well…" Harry replied, taking out a bunched bit of parchment from his bag. "We've got a few pressing things first on our list."

"First being if Harry is still…" Ron continued, then leaned in. "A you-know-what." Draco widened his eyes in dread.

"No…" he whispered, looking at Harry as if he would waste away this very moment. Harry merely rolled his eyes, patting his arm to calm him.

"Don't worry, it's just a precaution we need to consider. The other being our scars." Harry looked pointedly at Ron, who flushed a bit.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, slightly annoyed at him just because he was Ronald Weasley.

Ron merely lifted one of his sleeves, and there on his pale, pinkish and freckled skin were the tendrils of scars lifting from his hands up to almost his elbows. They were faint but definitely noticeable.

"They appeared last night." Ron explained. "The spell must've lagged on mine. Bloody thing."

"Where did you get those?!" Draco's voice cracked in fear and the strain of keeping a whisper.

"In the Department of Ministries." Harry explained. "In the Thought Chamber."

"My father told me about that place…the brains got you?" Draco asked in morbid awe.

"Seems your father didn't tell you he saw it happen." Ron replied hatefully, pushing the sleeve back down and tucking his arms inside his robes.

Draco looked away sadly, not sure what to say to that. Harry didn't either.

"Well, 'Mione? Anything we can use?" Ron asked after an awkward moment.

"Hmm? What?" she finally looked up, having missed the entire conversation. "Oh! No…I'm still going over some the theory behind setting the Trace in a magical sense to better understand the practicum."

"Ah." Was all Ron said.

"Come on, Ronald. This makes reference to a companion book about tracking individuals magically and how the Ministry regulates it…I think I saw that title in the third bookcase to the left." She hopped up and Ron contentedly followed.

Harry thumbed through his animagi book when Draco piped up.

"Do you think he'll ever stop hating me?" his tone was soft and unusually vulnerable. Harry looked at him a long moment before forming a reply.

"He's not keen on betrayal, Draco. When one of his older brothers, Percy, first distanced himself from the family in order to further his career in the Ministry, he was livid. When he thought I had slipped my name in the Goblet of Fire and was lying to him about it, he completely stopped talking to me until after I almost got killed by that dragon." Harry looked back at his book, flipping a page. "He doesn't do well with jealousy and, in a greater sense, doesn't think much of himself and rather believes when things look as if those close to him are moving on to bigger and better things, leaving him in the dust so to speak."

"But I was never close to him." Draco commented, fidgeting with the binding of a different book.

"Therein lies the problem. He has never trusted you, and so it will be harder for him to forgive you." Harry glanced at him then, smiling. "But he will. And I promise, it will be worth it to earn his trust. Ron Weasley is a warm, loving and steadfast friend."

Draco returned a small smile as well, just as Ron plopped another book unceremoniously in Draco's face, ruining the moment.

"Watch it, you oaf!" Draco spat, coughing from the loosened dust of the volume.

"Keeping you on your toes, Malfart." Draco, offended, motioned to Harry to witness the injustice. Harry chuckled and whapped Ron in the shoulder lightly in reprimand.

"There we go, this is more like it." Hermione beamed, settling back in her chair, making the retort Draco had ready die in his throat.

It was in this position, the group huddled around a sizeable pile of dusty and worn old books, that Minerva McGonagall found them. She approached and they immediately stopped chattering. Harry looked surprised to see her, Ron looked as if they were in trouble somehow, Hermione curious and Draco as if he were a deer caught in some headlights.

"Ah, I was on an errand and I am happy to find you all here." She eyed the open books approvingly, mistaking them for their classes. And she had a wary twinkle in her eyes when her gaze momentarily rested On Draco. "I was meaning to speak with you, Miss Granger; Mr. Potter. If you two would just come with me to the empty classroom next door, this won't take too long." She then eyed Draco again. "I daresay you've got a class soon, Mr. Malfoy. Charms I believe?"

Draco blinked then nodded sheepishly. She smirked then left with Harry and Hermione in tow.

"How'd she know my schedule?" Draco asked in awe.

Ron shrugged, righting a book he had opened upside down. "I dunno mate, she's a bit scary like that."

Draco chanced a look at the red-head, now engrossed in the book about Animagi and mused on the fact he had called him mate. He was distracted, of course. But still. Maybe there was hope for him and Weasley after all.

Minerva closed the old wood door to a creaked close (with a small gap so not shut completely) with a flick of her wand and turned to face the students as she leaned on the old desk there. Harry looked around and felt a bit uneasy. This had been Quirrell's preferred classroom for the first years.

"It was brought to my attention, no doubt in his personal vendetta to one up me on something, by Professor Snape that you both have signed up for Muggle Studies. I wished to speak with you both about that."

Harry and Hermione shared a look, then decided to sit in a couple desks before her; this was going to be a bit of a chat.

"I hope you understand why I'm a bit…concerned." Minerva looked down at the duo, her spectacles slipping a fraction off her nose.

"Because we're both Muggle-raised, you think it's inappropriate." Harry provided with a slight sigh. Minerva blinked a bit, the wording not quite what she expected of a thirteen-year old. But she nodded, affirming his assumption.

"Quite right, Mr. Potter. Young Mr. Weasley, along with a few other choice third years that have also signed up, I can understand; they are from solely magical families, or mixed families that decided to live in our world rather than the Muggle one. But Miss Granger, you are Muggle-born; Mr. Potter, Muggle-raised. This class would be like, for you both, learning to tie your shoes." McGonagall lectured, though her tone soft and not nearly as demanding as in the classroom setting.

Hermione shared another look at Harry, then turned back to their teacher to explain what she could.

"I did some extra studies abroad this past summer, ma'am." Hermione explained, twisting a lie in the truth. "And I decided I was…proficient enough in the other available subjects. But I have never understood the wizarding point of view of Muggles, and thought it an interesting subject." Hermione's voice was small, shy almost. And she fiddled with the cuff of her uniform, only making eye contact as much as was necessary. The was not the Hermione Minerva remembered from the previous two years before. But the more pressing topic was at hand

"You believe a summer of studying has enabled you to skip an entire semester of classes in these other subjects?" Minerva asked in a genuine tone. Had it been any other student, she would have scoffed. But this was Hermione Granger—the witch that had solved Severus Snape's potion conundrum in her first year, a feat not even Minerva could have done. And she had tried. If Granger honestly thought this, then she had to validate it, if only for record purposes.

Hermione had nodded a yes to her posed question, and so Minerva took a moment to think.

"I would not believe you if you were any other student. But…knowing your grade average here, as well as your…extracurricular activities…" she chanced a soft glare at Harry, but smirked, making him relax slightly. "…I would like to ensure you get the proper credit. I will schedule placement tests with the other professors, and depending on your grades, you may skip them and credit for the courses will go on your record. If not, we will simply place you in one or more of the classes you prefer." McGonagall replied. Hermione looked hopeful now, brighter than before.

"And you, Mr. Potter?" Minerva turned her piercing gaze at him now.

Shifting in his seat, Harry decided to throw his dear family under the bus for once.

"You know I live with my mother's sister, right? Petunia Dursley." He began and Minerva merely nodded for him to go on.

"Well, she and her husband—and their son, Dudley—rather hate magic." This was quite surreal. He had never discussed his family's opinion of him with Minerva, not until after the war during a couple of group therapy sessions.

"They hate magic." Minerva repeated to confirm.

Harry nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt himself blush slightly. He knew now that McGonagall had disliked his family during that time before Dumbledore placed him with them. She had watched them all day and found herself not approving of their attitudes. He hoped that knowledge would help him now.

"Well, they hate me. I've never been quite sure if it was because of the magic or because of my mother." Harry shrugged sighing. "But either way, my point is, they never include me unless they have to. So, while I know what basic things are, like a toaster or telly, I don't really understand how other things work. What muggle society is like, what I've missed. My knowledge of that stopped when I turned eleven and finished Primary in a Muggle school. So, I feel sort of…behind, in that regard. And it is a part of who I am."

Minerva looked deeply touched, but by what Harry didn't understand. He was afraid she would think he was lying to get into a "easy" class, as most students liked to call it. But quite the opposite happened.

"I now understand your reasoning, Mr. Potter. Thank you." She put her hands on her hips. "And you, Miss Granger. You will both attend Muggle Studies without incident, I'll make sure of that. Miss Granger, your attendance will be on probation until I can accurately assess your proficiency at the other classes. If you are as advanced as you believe, you may stick to Muggle Studies." She then checked an old but lovely watch on her wrist Harry hadn't noticed before.

"Dear me, my class is about to begin. We must hurry or we will all be late. Come along then!" And in a flash what was once Professor McGonagall was now a quickly trotting cat, slipping out of the door. Hermione and Harry laughed in relief and upon finding Ron and Draco again in the library, gathered their books, checked them out, and then parted ways.

Transfiguration awaited them.