Hermione breathed in deeply through her chapped lips as she walked out onto the frost covered grounds, flanked by Ron Weasely and Harry Potter. She had convinced them to take a stroll with her so she could soak up the last of the winter air. She had always loved the feeling of cold air in her lungs, something about it was so refreshing, it just made you feel alive. But now with the snow making way for the grass, and the trees budding with life, she knew it would be awhile before winter winds made their appearance on Hogwarts grounds. It was hard to believe that the spring holidays were only a week away, when the winter holidays seemed to have just happened yesterday. Time moved so quickly. She redirected her train of thought to the breeze shaking the green pods on the edges of the branches, and she wanted to tell them to hold on, warmer weather would be moving this way soon. Her thoughts were interrupted as Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map for what seemed like the hundredth time that morning. Besides intruding on her thoughts of the seasons, it also brought on a rush of emotions, particularly worry.

"Harry." She hissed, glancing at Ron to see if she would have his support on this issue. "You're becoming obsessed." Hermione urged him again, but he waved it off, as always. Harry had a theory that Draco Malfoy had become a Death Eater, which was ridiculous. A Death Eater at sixteen? Voldemort wasn't that desperate. Besides, it was Malfoy. And his suspicions had given way to obsession, as he realized that Malfoy frequently disappeared from the Marauder's Map for long periods of time. He pieced the two together, and often spent his time watching the map for signs of Malfoy. It was unhealthy. Hermione snatched the map out of his hands and looked down at it, quickly locating Malfoy's name. "There!" She pointed to it, "He's in the loo." Harry grabbed the map from her to see for himself before grinning.

"I'm going to go see what he's up to." Harry said suddenly, wiping the map clean.

"Harry, please, just let it go." Hermione begged. This definitely wasn't healthy. But as usual, Harry shook off her concerns, and began bounding towards the castle doors. She shot Ron an exasperated look before taking off after Harry, Ron on her heels. She argued halfheartedly with Harry up to the fourth floor bathroom, where they paused outside of it. She began to give one final plea when Harry shushed her, pressing his ear towards the door.

"Do you hear that?" He whispered. Hermione rolled her eyes, and leaned towards the door, when she did hear something. Was...Was Malfoy crying? Harry pulled out the map once more to be sure, but Malfoy was the only one in the bathroom. Hermione chewed softly on her lip as Harry nudged open the door, but curiosity soon got the best of her, and she leaned in with him to confirm what she had heard. What Hermione saw, completely derailed her. Malfoy was leaned over a sink, fingers taunt against the cool metal, clothes disheveled, and hair a mess. His forehead rested against the mirror in front of him, and she could see his eyes pressed closed in his reflection. As they stepped inside and the door swung closed behind them, his eyes opened quickly, and he spun around, wand in hand, eyes ablaze.

"What the hell are you doing in here?" He demanded, his voice rough, somehow more serious and angrier than Hermione had ever heard it. Before any of the could respond, he shot a jinx our way that Hermione quickly countered and sent hurtling into another of the porcelain sinks with a loud crack. "The filthy blooded trio just can't mind their own business, they just nose their way into situations that have nothing to do with them!" His voice grew louder with each word, and another jinx came hurtling our way, Hermione barely had time to deflect it before curses were flying everywhere, shards of porcelain and glass were flying in every direction as the spells rebounded off the walls.

"Sectumsempra!" Harry yelled loudly, wand pointed at Malfoy, who barely moved out of the way in time. The wall where the spell hit immediately shredded, and Hermione shuddered to think what it could of done to Malfoy, but before she could restrain them all, Professor McGonagall and Snape came barging into the bathroom. Hermione cringed as they looked around, taking in the destruction around them, and knew instantly that they were all in a lot of trouble. Both Snape's and McGonagall's eyes were wide with fury as they marched the four students to the Headmaster's office. Soon they were all sitting on a wide variety of chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk, the silliest of which was Snape looking rather ridiculous in a pink bean bag chair.

Professor McGonagall walked over to Dumbledore and they began arguing in low voices for several minutes, before they seemed to reach a conclusion, and McGonagall collapsed in a heap in one of the chairs. Despite the situation, Dumbledore's disposition didn't at all reveal that they were in trouble, as he hummed merrily, peering at his company over his spectacles. Despite his calmness, Hermione was terrified for the punishment she was sure would follow this most recent indiscretion, after all they had destroyed a bathroom. But Dumbledore's silence after several minutes became less frightening to her, and more annoying, and she felt she needed to break it.

"So, are we in trouble?" Hermione asked timidly. McGonagall turned to her quickly, eyebrows raised.

"Of course you're in trouble Miss Granger! If you could only understand the implications at hand here-

"Minerva." Dumbledore cut her off. "Hermione, to answer your question, yes, you are in trouble, and I think I've settled on a consequence that will do everyone here a bit of good. The four of you are to take on an independent Muggle Studies course during your free period after dinner." Hermione's mouth fall open, as Harry and Ron both groaned.

"A class, with just us four in it?" Malfoy snapped suddenly, "You think that will help things? That will solve the problems?" His voice still had an edge of the former hysteria, "I need that time!"

"Shut. Up. Draco." Snape said through gritted teeth, smacking the boy in the back of the head. Draco turned to him and shot him a look of pure resentment, the likes of which Hermione had never seen. She was confused, hadn't Snape and Malfoy always seemed rather fond of each other? She asked herself, knowing the answer was yes. Snape showed the boy nothing but favouritism, so where did the current rage in Malfoy's eyes come from.

Dumbledore, seeming to ignore the altercation, went on with his explanation. "After dinner, you are to report to the Muggle Studies classroom, where Professor Burbage will teach you how she deems fit. Lessons start tonight. You are dismissed."

Hermione stood up quickly, though thoroughly confused. An extra class was the punishment? And Muggle Studies? Hermione was Muggle born, Harry had grown up with Muggles, and Ron's father sought desperately to learn as much as he could about Muggle life. The only person who really needed the class was Malfoy, with the bigoted prick he was. But regardless of Dumbledore motives behind the choice, Hermione found herself in the classroom with her two closest friends, and her worst enemy, wishing she could return outside to the world of the crisp dewy grass and the cool wind, where she felt most alive.