Ecdysis

PART I - Revelation

Hello reader and welcome ❤️

A few things to note!

- This is a No Voldemort-AU

- Slow burn romance

- Slytherin Hermione, so she will be different from Gryffindor Hermione

- Heavy themes of bullying

- For the sake of this story, Hermione will be the first ever Muggle-born in Slytherin

- While this is not a continuously dark story, it will get heavy throughout and even dark at times, content warnings will be stated clearly

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoy!

x

--

The Sorting Hat hummed and ha'd above my head, rambling about change and fate, potential, I see, so much potential, until finally, "Slytherin!"

By 'Granger, Hermione', the applause was automatic, far less enthusiastic than 'Abbott, Hannah'. But I felt it like lightning zipping down my spine. I was enchanted by the warmth of their welcome. The Slytherins were thrilled to see me—a new female joining the succession. Our population was sorely lacking.

After finding a spot on the bench, pats on the back and shoulder nudges expensed, reality began to settle.

Slytherin, as I'd feared.

I'd convinced myself I'd make Ravenclaw. What did this say about me? Was I destined to become bad? At least I'd kept my parents in the dark. It had been a wise decision to keep the Sorting Hat from them, just in case something like this happened. All they knew about Slytherins was that they wore green and silver, and slept in dungeons, which they didn't quite believe anyway. I would keep it that way.

We celebrated, eating sweets until our stomachs ached, practised scowling at Gryffindors across the hall, discussed subjects we were most excited to learn. Potions! Transfiguration! Defence Against the Dark Arts! How could anyone decide?

If I'd known they'd turn on me, I'd never have admitted to being Muggle-born. Why hadn't professors warned me? Someone should have pulled me aside and told me to keep it from them. Hindsight's always twenty-twenty, and mine would have advised me to declare I was half-blood to protect myself. If my parents had been magical, maybe I'd have known. If my parents had been magical, it wouldn't have been a problem in the first place.

🐍

I was in the common room, reading The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection on the tufted sofa. The massive fireplace roared beside me. My right side was too hot next to the fire, my left too cold without it. The dungeons were strange like that. Nothing ever felt right. I'd seen some of the upper years fall asleep here, so I assumed one acclimated over time.

Draco Malfoy entered the room, whistling to himself as he sat beside me on the sofa. We hadn't officially met, but he was one of those kids everyone knew immediately. A chatterbox, for one. He never knew when to stop talking, but people found it funny, or rather, the Slytherins did. Other houses didn't hide their dislike of him. While he was short with us, he was downright nasty to them.

On top of that, he stood out like a sore thumb. Or a Weasley, though he seemed to despise them most of all. Draco had hair the colour of ice. I felt a strange urge to pluck a strand and hold it up to the light to check for transparency. Draco's hair was whiter than any child's I'd seen before, but not geriatric. It glistened gold under direct light, especially at the ends. Matching eyebrows made him even more unsettling. At a quick glance, you'd think he didn't have any. Why he slicked his hair back was beyond me. Not only was it stiff, but it also exposed the humorously large canvas of his forehead.