'At least you can make Potter's life a living hell' his father told him in a secured room at Azkaban, while visiting with his mother before the holidays.
Saint Potter, his mind seethed with hate saying the name. That prat put his father in Azkaban, covered his face in hexes and left to be found like some common stray on the Hogwarts Express by his mother. He tried his best, deducting points, name calling, and even a few hexes here and there, but Potter still wouldn't take the bait. The Mudblood Granger would always be beside him, muttering "Ignore him" with her eyes set forward, and Potter would stiffen his spine and walk away.
The flutter above him signaled the mail, he looked up for his family's owl and wasn't disappointed when it landed perfectly in front of his breakfast. As soon as he detached the letter, the owl took off with haste:
I am staying in the house in Paris for another week or so. I hope you liked your presents, it took me the whole day to figure what sizes to get you. If you need to contact me, use a school owl, your father's owl does not seem to like France.
He read the letter with indifference, folded it and put it into his cloak. Ever since his father was sent to Azkaban, his mother seemed like a different person. She didn't require him to dress formally for dinner, he didn't have to call her 'Madam' anymore, and on more than one occasion, he caught her smiling. Not the malicious, ice queen smile she gave the other Death Eaters when they came over for functions. This time, the smiled reached her eyes, forming them from a severe ice blue, to a soft kerry blue.
His attention snapped back to the table when he heard collective 'oohs' and 'aahs' from all the students that had also wanted to remain in Hogwarts for Christmas.
"What the hell is everyone so happy about" Draco asked in a general direction, but Pansy Parkinson was at his elbow before anybody could respond. "The Historical Reenactment Project" Pansy said, squeaking like a mouse when she got excited.
"The what" Draco asked, confused.
"Didn't you read the school owl" Pansy asked, tilting her head to one side.
"Obviously not" he barked at her, now noticing the letter under his breakfast bowl, he picked it up:
Dear Hogwart's Student,
The staff is delighted to present a project that is exclusive to seventh years only. The Historical Reenactment Project will give you, the student, a chance to see, hear, and smell history as it happens. The Project is courteous of Professor Binns who upon hearing that his students found his class uninteresting came to me, the Headmaster, for a solution. The Project will be under way when the new school term begins this month. All seventh year students are to meet at three o'clock in Professor Binns' classroom, and will be instructed also by Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick.
May I suggest not picking partners or groups just yet, as they will be picked for you.
Enjoy the rest of your holidays,
Headmaster Albus Dumbledore
"This is great" Hermione exclaimed, about to jump out of her seat with excitement.
"I really don't see the big deal" Ron said with a slight shrug of his shoulder"its not like we get to pick who we travel with."
"That's not the point, you twit" she replied to Ron with a hint of annoyance in her voice"this is a chance of a life time, to experience history as it happens" Hermione's eye's slowly started to glaze over in the wonder of it all.
Harry smiled at Hermione, understanding her point of view on the Project.
"I wonder if we can travel outside of England" Harry asked, stuffing a mini-muffin in his mouth.
"I highly doubt it, too dangerous. We probably won't be able to touch or talk to anybody, I wonder if it will be like being in a Pensieve." Hermione asked herself.
Harry became thoughtful, knowing first hand what it was like to be in a Pensieve'this is going to be very interesting.'
All of a sudden Hermione jumped up, grabbed her bags, stuffed a muffin a mouth and started to leave.
"Where are you going" Harry yelled, because she was halfway to the door.
"Library, I have to look up muggle and magical history, I can't be unprepared" She said, dashing out the Great Hall.
"Forget Auror, she can probably get a job here as the librarian" Ron snorted.
Draco watched the mudblood run out of the Great Hall like there was a rampage of hippogriff's after her. His mind was brought back to his table when he felt something on his thigh.
"Pansy, please take your hands off me, these robe are new" Draco told her coldly.
"But Draco, you promised me yesterday" she pouted, he guessed she was trying to look cute, but it came across like if someone knocked her in the mouth with a bludger.
"Not today, Pansy." He said, getting up, holding up his hand signaling Crabbe and Goyle to stay where they are.
He stalked out the Great Hall with intension to fly around the Quidditch pitch when he saw the mudblood slowly wobbling her way to the Fat Lady portrait, her arms straining with books that were piled pass her head. He couldn't pass this up, he stealthy slipped passed her, and when turning the corner to head for his common room, he whispered the Jelly Legs hex, and Hermione came crashing down with a loud "Bloody Hell"