Chapter Text
Last time Hermione sat in the Great Hall, injured and mourning people littered the floors. The ceiling had been broken, the wall behind the teacher's table half gone, and bodies on pallets where the house tables now sat. Fred's body had been an arm's reach behind where she now sat, waiting for the feast to begin.
Maybe she shouldn't have come back. The castle had been rebuilt, but the memories of the battle lingered. Only a few months ago, blood coated the stones beneath her feet.
Ron's hand found hers under the table, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.
Professor—no, Headmaster McGonagall came to the podium at the front of the room. She rested both hands on it, taking in the room as she steeled her expression. She gave each of the tables a long appraisal before beginning the welcoming speech.
"At the end of last term, we united together in these very halls to undertake the greatest trial of our lifetime. It was a fight none of you should have needed to face, and yet you stepped up to face it with confidence and strength. We overcame that trial together, and together, we'll begin to rebuild."
Her lips pursed tightly before continuing. "The divisions between us were made all too clear, and it is our belief that we must do all we can to narrow the distinctions contrived here. Hogwarts was built on the principle of separating and dividing students, and this year, we will take our first steps toward mending the divide."
Whispers broke out among all the tables. She tightened her grip on Ron’s hand, and met Harry’s gaze across the table. McGonagall was too nervous to be building toward good news. She was preparing for backlash, and the anticipation drummed in Hermione's chest.
“This year,” she went on, and the whispers hushed, “After the first years are Sorted, the rest of you will be as well. We have asked the Sorting Hat to place everyone in a house different than their original.”
Protests erupted, and McGonagall allowed it.
Harry’s face paled. Beside her, Ron added his voice to the protests. She knew what to expect when the three of them were Sorted again. They would have to leave behind Gryffindor. They would be placed in different Houses. Harry’s first home would be lost, and on top of that, an identity the three of them clung to would be stripped away.
After a minute of protests, McGonagall raised a hand, and the room slowly quieted.
“I understand the disappointment this has caused. But for too long Hogwarts has encouraged enmity between our Houses. You will still have plenty of occasion to spend time with your old housemates. The tables here are no longer strictly for each House. House points will all be combined, and if the total passes a certain threshold, all students will take part in the reward. Our new aim is to bring everyone together. No one within these halls is to be considered an enemy.”
Too many people turned to the Slytherin table, where Malfoy sat, staring at the front of the room. News of his trial covered the front pages of the Prophet for a week over the summer. The fact Harry had spoken in his defense sent waves across the continent, and even more, that the word of Harry Potter hadn’t gotten him off entirely. His parole meant he was the only student required to attend this year.
“Now, if all the first years will make their way to the front,” McGonagall said, gesturing to the waiting stool.
“They’re barking,” Ron said once the Sorting had begun. “I mean, they can’t really expect to put us somewhere we don’t belong.”
“They’re just doing this to fix the problems Slytherin caused,” Ginny said. “Why not just disband the entire house?”
“Because she’s saying everyone needs to try forgiveness,” Hermione said.
“I’m going to be in Slytherin.”
Harry’s voice came the quietest, but seemed to hold the most weight. Maybe the four of them weren’t the only ones who knew where Harry had nearly been Sorted, and the faculty hoped his Resorting would make an impact. Who would discriminate against Slytherin if Harry Potter wore their emblem?
“Maybe we can all ask the hat to be sorted together,” Ron said. “You said it listened to you before.”
Ginny nodded. “And we’d still end up in a new house, so it would make their point.”
Hermione watched some of the first years walking up to the front of the room, grateful they were being properly sorted. Maybe all the future classes could be assigned according to their character if the inherent biases lessened by then.
After the first years, the Resorting began. Getting through each year didn’t take as long as Hermione imagined it would. Not as many came back this year. Not everyone had made it through last. The rushing time might’ve only been in her head, as they sped nearer and nearer to the older years.
Ginny kissed Harry’s cheek when McGonagall called for the seventh years to take their turn, and whispered something to him before joining the rest of her class. She fell in beside Luna, who held out a hand to wave in their direction, the only person in the room who didn’t seem to mind this change. In fact, she was delighted when her turn came and the hat pronounced her “Gryffindor!” She skipped to the Gryffindor table, familiar to her with all the time she spent there before.
Ginny stared down the room with determination when declared Slytherin, daring anyone to say a word against it.
Finally, it came time for the eighth years. Hermione and Ron let go of each other’s hand during the walk to the front of the room, but stayed close, arms brushing. She felt the stares of everyone behind them, and squared her shoulders. They needed to be a positive example.
Hannah Abbott was the first to go, and smiled at the proclamation of Gryffindor. Everyone brought heightened nerves with them. Susan to Slytherin took the room by surprise, then Terry to Hufflepuff, Millicent to Ravenclaw, and with every name that passed, they all grew more agitated.
Hermione wiped her hands on her robes, hoping they would stop sweating. She knew she would end up in Ravenclaw. For six years, people questioned why she hadn’t been sorted there. Her nerves were for Harry’s sake, and slightly for Ron’s. Changing houses only changed where they slept and what robes they wore, she told herself.
She repeated the thought as a mantra and kept her head high while she stepped up for her turn. The hat immediately placed her in Ravenclaw, and she smiled graciously. There had been no moment to ask for a different placement, no chance to negotiate. Putting up any sort of debate while the entire school watched wasn’t optional, and she stepped down to her new house table.
After a few more students received their new placements, the room went silent. Malfoy set his jaw in response to his own name and stepped forward. The hat didn’t take any longer for him than it had for Hermione.
“Ravenclaw!”
He nodded and went to the Ravenclaw table without giving any emotion. He sat with Millicent, across from Hermione, and only then let out a breath.
Hermione thought that placement was equally obvious as hers. Draco had been at the top of their class every year, and wasn’t brave or particularly loyal, even if he did give Theodore Nott a small smile when he joined them.
The biggest surprise, Hermione thought, was the placement of the Slytherins. Goyle ended up in Hufflepuff, and Pansy in Gryffindor. To her, almost every Slytherin felt like they had no other character traits. Maybe that internal bias was the reason for all this.
The surprise over Harry’s placement into Slytherin caused an uproar that couldn’t be tamed for several minutes. People insisted it had been rigged, that they told the hat to place him there only to prove a point. Harry Potter couldn’t be a Slytherin.
Across the table from Hermione, Draco shook his head.
“Something funny?” she asked.
“It’s like they forgot second year.”
It was a more reasonable answer than she expected. Their year and the current seventh years certainly spent a majority of year two convinced Harry was the heir of Slytherin. Those people were now the loudest opposition in the room.
McGonagall finally regained order, and carried on with the rest of the Sorting. Dinner had been waiting for an hour by that point, adding another layer to the general irritability. The remaining students dwindled, and soon, it was Ron’s turn. The hat took long enough that Hermione assumed he was arguing. Would he ask for the house of his best friend or his girlfriend?
In the end, it didn’t matter. The hat declared him for Hufflepuff, and Ron flushed a deep red. He gave Hermione on embarrassed look, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly on the way to his new table.
The Resorting ended with Blaise Zabini, Gryffindor.
They went to three different houses after all. Hermione let herself feel grateful they all had someone. Parvati had been sorted into Ravenclaw with her, Neville into Hufflepuff with Ron, and Ginny with Harry.
“Padma’s never had anything but praise for the Ravenclaw Tower,” Parvati said. “I wonder what she’ll think of Gryffindor.”
“You’ll have to compare notes tomorrow,” Hermione said. “I don’t think anyone expected how this year would go.”
“The Ravenclaw password is the answer to a riddle. I’ve never been great at riddles.”
“We’ll try to go in and out in pairs then,” Hermione offered.
The food appeared on the table in front of them, and for the first time that night, people finally sounded somewhat pleased. They all fixed their plates, and Hermione thought the chatter of the room seemed a bit more agreeable. No one was likely to be sorted into a house where they knew no one.
“There are only six of us,” Hermione said, glancing over Parvati, Justin, and the three former Slytherins. “I wonder how they’ll sort out the dorms.”
She didn’t imagine that there were two extra rooms in the tower. Maybe they would stay with the seventh years if those dorm rooms had the space.
Hermione formally introduced herself to Millicent, thinking back to the time she’d hoped to use her hair for the Polyjuice potion. It felt like a lifetime ago. They had been in the same year all this time, but never really interacted.
Draco picked at his dinner, and halfway through, stopped pretending. He propped his elbow on the table, the tip of a thumbnail between his teeth, gaze distant and unfocused. Theo noticed after a minute, and knocked Draco’s arm down.
It earned him a petty glare.
There were no head boys or prefects at this point, which left Professor Flitwick to escort them up to the tower. He explained along the way how the riddle-sealed entryway worked, along with a few facts about Ravenclaw house Hermione already knew from her reading.
It was strange, walking to Ravenclaw while they still all wore the robes from their previous house. They walked up, trimmed in red, yellow, and green, but tomorrow, the elves would have fixed their robes to blue.
The answer to the night’s riddle was bezoar, and when Flitwick offered it, the doors opened to the common room.
Hermione craned upward to take in the constellations on the ceiling. They cast a silver light over the circular common room, matching the navy and royal blue décor. A statue of Rowena Ravenclaw stood by the fireplace, wearing a diadem that no longer existed. The room held a few chairs, but seemed to be set up more for studying.
“First and second years are on this floor,” Flitwick said, and began the process of getting everyone to their dorm, guiding them year by year. The crowd in the common room slowly thinned, until only the six eighth years remained.
“We added on a room for you all,” Flitwick told them. “We’re placing a great deal of confidence in you, seeing that you’re all of age.”
One room?
They couldn’t expect her to share a room with someone who spent six years making her life hell, taunting her about her blood status, and insulting her friends at every opportunity. She didn’t look at him. She couldn’t bear to now.
“You’re all on the top floor, the best view.”
It was truly the only compliment he could have given the room. It had been built under the slopes of the tower roof, and must have been enchanted in the same way the tent she lived in for the majority of last year had been. Even with it, the room allowed for two sets of bunk beds, two single beds, and a small, attached bathroom. There was the one window, which did have a stunning view of the lake and the mountains beyond it. With the low roof overhead, Hermione imagined rain would be incredibly calming.
“It’s a co-ed dorm?” Justin asked.
“As I said, we are trusting you all, given your age.”
Hermione’s trunk had been brought to the foot of the bunk bed on the right side of the room. She went to it, and Flitwick nodded once.
“Very good. My office is always open, should any trouble arise.”
He wasn’t too good not to glance at Malfoy and Nott when he spoke. Only Theo seemed offended by the insinuation.
Flitwick closed the door behind him, and the six of them gravitated toward their trunks. With how they had been arranged, Hermione and Parvati would share a bunk, with Millicent in the single bed, and across the room, Draco and Theo would share a bunk, while Justin took the single. The arrangement was logical, if not odd.
“It’s good only six of us ended up here,” Parvati said.
“There must be empty rooms they could have used,” Justin agreed.
But the Slytherins had nothing to say about their arrangements aside from a short discussion between Theo and Draco, resulting in Theo taking the top bunk.
Hermione let Parvati choose, and then made her bed on the bottom.
“I’m not spending anymore time in here than I have to,” Justin said. He dumped some of the contents of his trunk onto his bed, then headed downstairs. Parvati followed along.
“We have some time before curfew,” Theo said to Draco and Millicent. “Let’s see if we can find the others.”
Hermione took a copy of Hogwarts: A History from her bag, and settled in to read before bed. It was something of a tradition for her, and she could use some tradition right now.
“Are you coming?” Theo asked.
“I’ll meet you in the library,” Draco said.
Theo and Millicent walked out together, and Hermione tensed when it left her alone with Malfoy. She tried not to notice him as he made his bed, as he set out his robes, as he loosened his tie.
“Granger.”
She looked up, but he wasn’t looking back at her. He stared at the top bunk, and took a heavy breath.
It was the first time they had ever been alone together.
“I’ve come to realize I’ve been guided by beliefs I never stopped to question,” he said, quickly, like he’d practiced it, “—and I acted horribly because of it.”
His hand clenched and relaxed, then he faced her. “I apologize for how I treated you.”
He went quiet, but remained as tense as she was. Hermione stared, and a flush of anger ran through her. Did he think just because Harry spoke for him, all was forgiven? That one apology undid years of abuse?
“What do you expect me to say to that?”
“Nothing,” Draco said. “But it still needed to be said.”
He left her alone as a gust of wind battered the tower.