Hermione didn't get the conversation she wanted until that Saturday. She had essentially managed to convince Harry to bring Ron to meet her and Draco in the library after his Quidditch game. She was busy with a rewrite of the essay Professor Flitwick had assigned them on enchanted fire and couldn't make the game, or at least that was what she had told them.

Really, she was researching Magical relations- specifically bonding rituals and historical connections to power. Apparently, the Malfoys' were a big deal, now and in earlier times, dating all the way back to the Norman Conquest of England in 1066. Armand Malfoy was gifted with land in payment by William the Conqueror for services rendered. She had no idea what those services were. Given the time frame and the King, it was probably related to warfare.

"Constantly close to power," she murmured, running her pen down the list of names she'd written, connecting Malfoy patriarchs to whoever called the shots at the time. Abraxas, who helped William I claim power, remained close to him all his life. The first Lucius, alive in the mid-1500s, supposedly attempted to woo Elisabeth I, the famously unwed Queen. And then Brutus had the ear of the first Minister for Magic, Ulick Gamp. And the trend continued. "And I'm not even a princess," she mused, tempted to laugh.

"No, seriously, what the hell was going on up there, Potter? You looked like you were trying to dance with your broom. Badly. Does that mean I should stay away from any Nimbus Two Thousands and stick to my Comet?"

"No way, Malfoy," Ron snapped. There was something odd about his tone, though- no animosity. Like a boy talking about sports, Hermione thought to herself. Neville followed them in, grimacing.

"Harry's broom got jinxed. Parvati's sister, Padma, Ravenclaw, she said so. She suggested so to Professor Flitwick and it stopped right then and there." He grinned at last. "But Harry caught the snitch! Gryffindor beat Slytherin!"

"Congratulations," she said, amused. She gestured for everyone to take a seat around the table she had settled in at, moving a stack of books from the chair beside her. Draco took that seat, while Neville claimed the end of the table.

"No, Hermione, you're meant to cheer or something. The other Houses congratulate you, you're a Gryffindor after all." Draco was trying not to laugh, pulling a book towards himself to look through. In the mean time, Harry and Ron took the seats across from them, but didn't pull back towards the desk. Hermione really had her work cut out for her. I should lower my expectations.

"Why am I meant to cheer? I don't care."

"See, this is why you're only friend is the school bully and the wimp. No offense, Neville."

"What?" Neville seemed genuinely confused.

"Ron. I don't understand why you're so insistent on claiming that Draco's mean. Really, the only person to have insulted me at all since we got on the train is you."

"I-"

"Never mind. I have an offer for you."

"Oh, this'll be good."

She rolled her eyes. "It has to do with you and Harry leaving me alone. And Draco. And Neville obviously gets a pass, it's hardly his fault that I'm not good enough for you and Draco's not whoever you want him to be."

Ron's ears turned pink. "That's not what I meant. That's not what I've ever meant! Of course you're not- you're not not good enough. I mean-"

Neville was staring at him. "Even I think you just shoved your foot in your mouth, Ron. Maybe let Hermione speak?"

"We never- I didn't- why are you here? Why is Neville here?"

"Neville's my impartial observer. An outsider. He's not in this silly war you've started, Ron Weasley, so he can decide if what I have to suggest is fair."

"I'm your what? Hermione, I don't think-"

"Too late, Neville, she already nominated you," Draco leant forward so he could see him past the books. "What were you doing here, Hermione, trying to find every single book in this place? This one's about William I. Couldn't you study this at home?"

"I've been reading, Draco. Now, my suggestion. I suggest that you quit trying to bully me into agreeing with you, or stopping talking to my friends, or corrupting Neville or whatever it is you think I'm doing."

"Corrupting me? I thought you said I was an outsider!"

"You are, Neville, don't worry. I'm not trying to change you at all. Ron, however, thinks I am. He seems to have convinced himself that I'm an agent of the dark side or something ridiculous like that, and quite frankly, I cannot see why he does."

"Alright, then, I guess that's fair enough. Why do you think these things, Ron?"

The Weasley flinched, looking up at Neville. Obviously, he hadn't expected the meekest Gryffindor in living history to agree with Hermione's word. "Why do I think what? That Malfoy's a git? Because he is."

"What have I ever done to you, Weasley?"

"Insulted my family. Insulted Harry. Said I was poor."

"You are poor," Hermione pointed out. "Compared to the Malfoy's wealth, the entirety of England is poor. Let that put you into perspective."

His ears were a dull shade of red now, transformed by embarrassment from their usual pastiness. "I don't think that's what he meant when he said it."

"Can you prove that?"

"No," he muttered. Hermione smiled smugly.

"And that's why you're going to leave us alone."

"Because I don't have proof that Malfoy's a jerk?"

"No." She leant forward. "Because I know what you really did on Halloween. That troll? The door closed behind it. Draco mentioned it a few days ago, he thought it was odd. After all, a common mountain troll like the one released shouldn't have the mental ability to understand how doors work, let alone to think to close them. Somebody else obviously did it." Harry and Ron had both turned very white. She was still smiling, pretending that she hadn't noticed the stunned expressions on the faces of Draco and Neville. "I think you both know exactly what I think happened that night."

"You can't possibly know that," Harry said, his tone of surprise. He was the one who spoke, because Ron looked as though he was struggling to find any word at all. "There's no way."

"It's basic logic, Harry. I know you don't seem to like me all that much, but you have to have noticed by now. Logic is how I work. It's who I am. This is the logical thing to do."

"Blackmail us?" Ron finally sputtered.

Hermione watched as his face turned as red as his ears. "You haven't given me a choice, Ron Weasley. Now. My terms are simple: you leave me alone and stop insulting me when you think I cannot hear, because obviously I can. You stop talking about Draco like he's the Devil- I can assure you, he's harmless, and any concern you have for me is obviously an act to give your feelings a reason to exist. And you leave Neville alone, should he choose to remain friends with us. Frankly, it's none of your business. In return, we will leave the both of you alone, and I'll 'forget' Halloween. All it costs is your focus."

"That's not much of a deal!"

"It's not much of a deal for you. Ron Weasley, I have decided that you are not a likable person. You're a bully. I never have liked bullies. Harry and Neville probably know what I mean, but if a victim finds a way to stand up to a bully, they take it. They don't hesitate. It's the only way to save themselves."

"I don't like it."

"It's blackmail. You're not supposed to. Neville, is this fair enough?"

Neville was clearly thinking that she hadn't been honest when she had said that he wasn't really involved. "It stops everyone from getting picked on."

"That's its purpose. Draco?"

"What? It's fine by me." He was distracted with staring at her, though he quickly pretended as though he hadn't been staring, shocked that she could be so... well, Slytherin. It was incredibly impressive- and a little intimidating. "You could've asked me first, though."

"As you've pointed out, Draco, I'm yours. I figured you'd claim credit for any ideas I came up with, anyway." She almost rolled her eyes again, looking back at the boys across the table. Ron looked like he had just swallowed a lemon. Harry lifted his glasses and rubbed his eye.

"Deal," Harry said. When Ron turned to glare at him, he shrugged. "I can't go back to the Dursley's, Ron, not after this. And if she tells a teacher, that's what's going to happen. If we're lucky. I don't know what the punishment for that is, do you?"

Ron growled under his breath, before begrudgingly holding his hand out so that they could shake on it. Neville watched as they did so, fidgeting with a piece of paper Hermione had left on the table, just one page of her notes on the Malfoy family. She watched as the two Gryffindors walked away.

"What did they do?" Neville asked, his tone one of worry. "If they tried to hurt you-"

"They didn't do it on purpose, I'm sure. They're not the type of people who would do that."

"Try to do what?"

She looked at Draco. "Haven't you worked it out yet?"

"Sure I have. I'm just making sure you weren't bluffing."

"Liar," she said. Then she grinned. "I bet you can't work it out before the Transfiguration essay on the ethics of transifiguring live creatures is due."

"That's Wednesday, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"What do I win when I work it out?"

"If you work it out, you can ask me three questions and I will answer them completely honestly. Any questions at all. If you don't work it out, then you answer three of my questions. Unless you're chicken."

Draco had no clue what that meant, but it sounded insulting. He narrowed his eyes at her. "You're on."