Crap she was late!

Rushing through the halls, she tried to fix her uniform somewhat, with little luck. Her book bag was hanging around her elbow, she kept trying to hoist it up on her shoulder, but her unbuttoned, scrunched up robes made it slip. The bag kept banging against her knees, sometimes knocking her leg into the other, making her stumble and curse under her breath. She checked her watch just to find she didn't have one on, so instead she started calculating how late she was exactly. Numbers running through her head kept her a little distracted from the nagging voice in her head counting up all the reasons she was late, and how much of a failure she was because of it.

Her shoelace came untied and she bit her lip in contemplation, but instead of tying it up, she opted for running even more awkwardly than before, trying to avoid stepping on said shoelace. She dragged her hand along her neck to get her hair from underneath her shirt, almost getting caught in the tangle of her untamed hair. When she woke up she had just scrambled around trying to find clothes and fit all her books in the bag.

Finally, she got to class, just 5 minutes late. She exhaled at last, seemed she hadn't missed much. Her tardiness still got her detention and a cut in house points, but the adrenaline in her veins and the sweat warm as it slipped down her skin underneath her robes, were enough of a distraction to not stress about it. At least not at that moment.

She walked further into the room and saw that there were only two seats available.

Next to Rosier or Sirius.

Fuck

Raised eyebrows from the Slytherin, did she actually curse out loud? She never cursed, what had the 70's done to her?! Could she blame the 70's, or was it her recent fall from grace that had started it all?

She narrowed her eyes at Rosier, the smirking bastard. He might not have been the one to blame, but he had been there to witness it all—from her fall into the past, to her cursing just now. That was enough to redirect her anger from herself to him.

Would she regret sitting down next to him at her own free will?

Evan knew he needed an answer to a couple of questions, and he wanted them now. To his delight, the teacher announced that they should pair up with their desk partner and discuss the latest homework assignment.

Hermione, of course, opened her book and started asking him about what they homework was. She didn't look up, and sounded clinical and impassive. That wouldn't do at all.

Time to start this game. "How does a Mudblood only get into Hogwarts in her 7th year?"

His question took her by surprise, so her only response was, "What?"

"You obviously have some experience with spells and duelling," Evan continued. During his interrogation of her, he adopted a casual pose by leaning back and propping his feet up on the table in front of him. In response, she wrinkled her nose at the close proximity with his feet.

"Maybe I went to a different school before," she said, while she still stared at his feet with disgust. It was so easy to push her buttons.

"In Britain?" he questioned.

"What makes you think that."

"Well, you're obviously British."

"Obviously," she drawled and looked up at him. Surprisingly, her eyes seemed just as disgusted by him as his feet. At least she was consistent, he thought.

"Where are you from exactly?" His eyes roved over her body in another attempt to make her uncomfortable. Once more, it didn't have the desired effect. Instead of answering, she picked up her book and rifled through it.

"Back to ignoring me?"

"Mhm," she hummed, while she flicked a page and made a note.

He mock-sighed. "Guess I'll just have to content myself with finding another partner."

"Guess so."

"Hopefully, Sirius will be more eager to answer my questions."

"Didn't think you swung that way," she replied with ease. How he adored the way she quipped so easily while she concentrated on something else. The insinuation that he was interested in Sirius Black wasn't that insulting, in pureblood society it seemed better to be interested in the same gender than one of impure blood—just as long as it didn't hinder you reproducing.

"I am curious why you picked me over him," he pondered out loud. That had the desired effect, she almost dropped her book.

She gulped but tried to act unaffected by straightening up. "Maybe I prefer Slytherins over Gryffindors." Her voice quivered, so there was a lie there, alongside a secret.

"Is this you admitting you like me, Mudblood?"

She seemed surprised he used the insult with ease in a crowded classroom and confused when no one picked up on it. It was funny, he had done the same before without batting an eye, so why was she more aware of it this time?

"Why do you ask, do you like me?" she responded but it didn't hold the same conviction she had earlier.

"I'm not interested in Mudbloods," he said and pointed to her chest. "But I can appreciate a nice pair of tits when I see them."

She almost jumped in her seat at his proclamation before she looked down. Seems like she had missed a button, but she buttoned it now that he had brought her attention to it. Maybe he should have waited to say something so he could have continued enjoying the sight. Nevertheless, now was the perfect opportunity to unnerve her some more.

He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, "Black underwear, are you dressing for someone specific?"

This time, she did jump back. "Creep," she accused and shifted away from him, but he leaned in closer. His breath still ghosting across her ear.

"A girl only buys black underwear for a specific man to see."

When she blushed he thought he was going to lose his composure completely.

She had bought it with someone in mind.

Back when she thought they had a chance, she had bought it for Ron to see. At the thought, her emotions went haywire; at first, she was ashamed that she was so easy to see through; then she was sad that she would never get together with Ron unless she found a way back; that lead to her feeling guilty for leaving them alone, even if it was in the future; at last, she was angry with the Slytherins that had forced her hand.

"Where is this man that has caught the Mudbloods attention?" he teased in her ear, still uncomfortably close.

She slammed her hand on the desk to cut him off and turned her quill into a spoon. She looked at her hand and saw that she had her wand in it. She must have flicked her wrist to make it land in her hand when she got angry and had a Slytherin inching closer.

Survival instinct.

Would she ever learn to live without looking over her shoulder?

She turned her head to come in close contact with the Slytherin that had been whispering in her ear. They were so close their noses were almost touching.

"Granger, are you alright?" She turned to see that Sirius was standing by her desk, looking at her with concern. His eyes would occasionally move to where Rosier was still leaning close to her.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Her voice was harsh and made Sirius visibly flinch.

Before he could answer, the teacher had come over. "Why aren't you with your partners, Mister Black?"

"Granger seemed to need my help," Sirius said, but stopped, not sure what he could say to a teacher. She could see it in his eyes, he knew that if he said the Slytherin was threatening her when there didn't seem to be anything going on, Sirius would be the only one to get in trouble.

"She seems fine, now go back to your desk before I give you detention."

Sirius tried to protest but was cut off with a, "Now, Mister Black," from the teacher.

With a downcast head, Sirius shuffled back to his own desk. Rosier snickered at him when he looked back at Hermione and him with a mournful look.

"What did you do to him?"

In response, Hermione pushed him away from her. "None of your business, Rosier."

"Ooooh, touchy subject." He put his feet up on the desk again and put his hands in his trouser pockets. "Guess he didn't like the underwear."

Hermione couldn't help that her lip quirked up in a smile at his joke. It was horribly crude and inappropriate. She looked back at Rosier and saw that he was smiling a genuine smile at her. Uncomfortable with their sudden ease, and her momentary lapse in judgement, she turned forwards again and continued writing her notes. For the rest of the class, she ignored him and he stared at her. When class was over, he matched her footsteps and pace, as if he was following her to the door.

The exit wasn't big enough for both of them to pass through at the same time, so she stopped and looked up at him. His eyes were full of mirth when he gestured for her to go first. She arched an eyebrow at him but stayed silent. As she always did, she first mingled with the crowd before she slipped into a hidden passage to move unobstructed and alone through the castle.

Left to her thoughts, she pondered the strange events of that day. She swore to herself that it was just the intensity of the morning that had made her temporarily insane—enough that she thought Rosier could be funny, or worse, charming.

Maybe the isolation had driven her to be desperate for companionship, even if it was in the form of a sneaky snake.

AN: Yay back with another Chapter!

Don't worry, I still have a lot planned for this, I have just been caught up in competing in the QLFC and writing for various forums. There are so many brilliant ones on this site, and I have somehow joined 4 of them and become mod on one of them. I am even becoming a mod at a new forum that should be up soon, a forum I am very excited for. Thanks to my lovely reviewers; Lokilette, AliceEnchanted, purple breeze, angel897 and SoulSiphon! I'm not sure I managed to respond to all of you, and I am terribly sorry about that, just know that I loved every single word and it made me write a lot faster.

Written with these prompts in mind:

Diagon Alley II:
Multichapter - Begin this chapter in medias res

Gringotts:

Prepositions - Alongside / Words instead of said - whispered / Words instead of laughed - snickered / Words instead of walked - shuffled

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