If Hermione could have hidden in the Gryffindor tower forever, everything might have seemed fine. Unfortunately, she had a week's worth of homework to catch up on and a conversation with Malfoy to be had. McGonagall sent a note with Ginny after lunch, informing Hermione that Malfoy did not regard himself as having been assaulted by her. Well—Hermione thought that was what the note said. McGonagall was rather unhelpfully vague.

"Miss Granger,
I spoke with Mr Malfoy to ensure you have no cause for concern regarding to him."

Hermione read the words ten times and felt like the Headmistress could have expounded slightly more.

Unlike the rest of the Alphas in the Great Hall, Malfoy had looked distinctly unenthused by the sight of a Hermione. She suspected that, despite McGonagall's reassurance, Hermione probably owed him an apology.

Her chest felt tight and she glanced at the note again. Then she jutted out her jaw and squared her shoulders. She needed to speak to him about their Arithmancy partnership anyway, there was no point in avoiding it.

She gave herself an hour to review the assignments from her missed classes, then she checked the Marauder's Map that Harry had given her, and sallied forth from Gryffindor Tower with determination.

The moment the portrait door opened she was struck in the face by a cloud of Alpha pheromones. There were three boys standing outside the door. Anthony, Selwyn (whose first name, according to the map, was Peter), and someone named Phineas Borgin whom Hermione was not surprised to discover was a Slytherin.

They were all posed awkwardly about the hallway, studying portraits and suits of armor and generally trying to appear like they had some business being there. When they looked over and saw it was Hermione walking through the portrait hole their pretenses vanished. They all turned and glared at each other resentfully.

Hermione stared back at them, feeling irritated. Three classmates, two of whom had never given her the time of day during their previous six years of attending school together, were waiting outside of the portrait hole for her.

She kept herself at a wary distance that she hoped would keep them from smelling Malfoy on her.

"Yes?" she said after a minute.

"I didn't get to properly introduce myself earlier," Peter Selwyn said. "I'm Peter Selwyn, we take Advanced Ancient Runes together. I thought you might like to borrow my notes for the class you missed. Professor Babbling covered quite a bit of material not included in the syllabus. I'm a bit obsessive about note-taking, so I have a transcript as well as my own personal notes, if you'd be interested."

Hermione cocked her head to one side and re-evaluated him. She still found him generally annoying but she was willing to credit him with coming prepared and knowing her well enough to have a good excuse.

"That's very considerate of you," Hermione said. Anthony and Phineas both grew visibly annoyed.

"Not at all," Peter said, his eyes gleaming slightly. "I have notes for Transfiguration and DADA too, although I know you have housemates in those, so you might already have gotten notes for them."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. Any notes she could get from Gryffindor would be well-nigh useless. She'd be lucky to get a general idea of what had been covered in class. The glint in Peter's eye told Hermione that he knew that.

"Funny, Selwyn, I thought you had a rule against sharing your notes," Anthony said in a telling tone of voice.

"Sharing notes with someone who missed class is different from sharing them someone who didn't bother to take any when they were there," Peter said.

"Really," Anthony said, rounding on Selwyn. "So, when I got laid up with Black Cat Flu for a week and I asked just to borrow the transcripts and you said 'no'...

"I'm Phineas Borgin," Phineas seized the opening as an opportunity to introduce himself. Phineas was, aside from having the general Alpha traits of being tall, broad-shouldered and muscular, was dark haired and oily in both body and manner.

He stepped toward Hermione as he spoke and Hermione stepped carefully back to maintain the distance.

She eyed him.

"Does your father have a shop in Knockturn Alley?" she asked.

Phineas blinked.

"Yes..." he said slowly, "We're antiques dealers."

"I've met your father," Hermione said with a thin smile. "Old friend of Lucius Malfoy's, I believe. Does he still have his vanishing cabinet?"

Phineas grew visibly uncomfortable.

"I couldn't say," he said in a tight voice. "Please excuse me. I just remembered something I need to attend to."

Phineas turned and hurried away. 

Hermione glanced back over at Peter and Anthony who were still distracted with their pissing contest. The argument had move on and Anthony was in the midst of milking his heroism in the battle of Hogwarts for all it was worth. She rolled her eyes.

It hadn't occurred to her that when her book said that Alphas would fight over her when in heat that it would mean they'd also be inclined toward weird displays of peacocking and dominance even when she wasn't. The two boys were so busy bickering with each other they appeared to have forgotten about her.

It solved the problem of how to shake both of them. Hermione snuck away and checked the Marauder's Map again.

Malfoy was still where he'd been when she'd exited the portrait hole; alone in an abandoned classroom in the Turris Magnus. Hermione took a roundabout route in order to avoid everyone and then triple-checked that Malfoy was still there before giving a sharp knock and opening the door.

"Theo, I don't want to fucking talk about Granger again. Bugger off!" Malfoy voice snarled from behind a stack of books as she peeked in on him.

She blinked. Malfoy's head suddenly shot up and they stared at each other. Hermione felt her stomach do a somersault.

"Malfoy," she said stiffly.

"Granger," he replied with a faint nod of acknowledgment. His expression was closed and seemed somewhat resentful. Hermione fidgeted with the door.

"I—I—wanted—to talk—to you," she stuttered nervously.

"Obviously," he said.

Hermione stepped into the classroom and started to close the door behind herself.

"Don't!" Malfoy abruptly barked.

Hermione looked up at him sharply.

"Don't shut the door," he said in a tight voice, the hand of his that she could see was balled into a tight fist. "Please."

Hermione let go of the doorknob quickly.

He was probably worried that being in an enclosed space around her pheromones would make him forget their differences again. Or maybe he thought she intended to jump him. She flushed and gnawed as her lower lip.

"Sorry," she said.

"It's fine," he said, appearing to relax incrementally.

"No, I mean, that's why I came to talk to you. I'm sorry—I'm sorry about what happened," she said hurriedly.

Merlin, Malfoy smelled amazing. She was starting to pick up his scent from the air in the classroom. It made it hard for her to think straight.

Malfoy's expression grew harder.

"I wasn't in my right mind," she squeaked and shifted from one foot to the other. The resentment in his expression appeared to be growing.

He'd actually been fairly nice toward her when they'd interacted after his trial, and on the Hogwarts Express he'd almost behaved as though they were friends of sorts.

Well, all that was clearly a thing of the past. Oh god, he'd probably just lied to McGonagall. He was looking at her as though he held her personally responsible for ruining his life.

Hermione fidgeted more and fought against an instinctive desire to melt into an apologetic heap on the floor.

"I can't even put into words how much I regret—" She stumbled over her words. "If I hadn't been in heat—I would never—never ever have—"

Her voice failed her before she could bring herself to say, 'climbed on top of you and started giving you a handjob while you were clearly trying to leave.'

"Obviously," Malfoy said flatly before she could finish. "I'm well aware, Granger. We have attended school together for six years."

"Ok. Good," she said with flood of relief. "I just—I know McGonagall spoke with you—but I was just worried you might still—"

"Don't worry," Malfoy said in a cold and unreassuring voice, "the Headmistress made it all abundantly clear. If that's all you came to talk about, I have homework to catch up on. I'm not interested in rehashing it yet again."

There was just a hint of an alpha tone in his voice. Despite the fact that she still felt like she should be apologizing, Hermione found herself immediately eager to leave him in peace the way he clearly wanted her to.

She was halfway through the door before she caught herself and shook her head. No, she still had things she needed to say.

She forced herself to ignore the impulse and sidled back into the classroom. Malfoy's expression as she re-entered the room became that of a martyr. 

"I stopped by Professor Vector's office earlier today," she said.

His jaw clenched.

"She said that we were partnered for the term's joint project."

"We were ," Malfoy said with clear emphasis on the tense.

"She—she said she's willing to accommodate the request that we not be partners," Hermione said. Malfoy gave a short nod and stared down at the essay he was writing. "With the assumption that it's related to—to my being an Omega. But if she does, she's going to inform the class—about me. Because she doesn't want any students to think she's accommodating blood prejudice."

Malfoy twitched.

"I—haven't had a chance to inform anyone yet—about being an Omega," Hermione said, flushing and staring down at her shoes. "I'd like to have more time break the news to my friends and try to find some equilibrium before the whole school finds out. So, if you don't mind—"

She glanced up and found Malfoy eyeing her, apparently unmoved. Hermione tried to make the offer tempting. "We can work separately and exchange our work after class. We don't have to meet up. I won't sit anywhere near you."

"We're going to be devising a numerical prediction to identify and then remove a curse from an enchanted item and you want us to each do it separately and exchange notes?" Malfoy said in a slow, precise tone.

Hermione looked at him uncertainly and noticed the arch of his cheekbones and the line of his jaw. It should be illegal for a man to be so attractive. She used to think he was too pointy and inbred-looking, but his presentation as an Alpha had squared his features somewhat.

He also, she remembered, had become so muscular it was almost obscene. She unintentionally started visualizing what she could recall; the distinct definition in his chest and abdomen, and the v of his pelvic muscles...

Hermione realized she was starting to pant slightly. She shook her head and tried to remember what she had been saying.

"Do you want me to just do it by myself and put your name on it?" Hermione asked, her voice climbing uncontrollably, forcing herself to stare at the wall behind his head.

"The assignment is half of our grade this term, Granger." Malfoy growled. She was not imagining it, it was definitely a growl. Hermione's knees buckled slightly and she whimpered to herself and pressed her knees together.

"So—?" she said in a strained voice. "Is that a yes or a no?"

"That's a no, Granger. I'm not having you do my homework for me," Malfoy said in a cold voice. His fist was clenched again and his knuckles starkly white.

"Oh. Alright then. So—" Hermione said.

"We'll work separately and then compare notes," he said with a note of finality, staring down at his essay and looking so angry Hermione was surprised it wasn't bursting into flames

"Thank you," Hermione said, letting herself look at him again briefly. "I'll, um—go then."

Malfoy looked visibly relieved.

She crab-walked out of the classroom and proceeded to walk headlong into Blaise Zabini.

"Granger," Blaise said.

"Zabini," she replied.

He appeared to be sizing her up thoughtfully. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. Did he know?

She supposed Malfoy might have told him.

"Malfoy and I were just discussing our Arithmancy project," she said.

"Of course," he said, "you were sick last week weren't you?"

Hermione glanced around and tried not to look shifty.

"Yes, all week."

"Talk about bad luck, around your nineteenth birthday, didn't it?"

Hermione looked sharply at him. "I didn't realize you knew my date of birth."

"Well, you got a lot of garish looking packages in the post. Hard to miss," Zabini said with a smirk. "Drake seemed to have contracted some kind of disease too, disappeared a few days after you did. "

Hermione pressed her lips together and said nothing.

"I certainly hope it's nothing that ruins him by hanging around," Zabini added after a moment.

Hermione's mouth twisted.

"I'm sure you'll find he's still the same Malfoy," she said in a tight voice.

She walked away quickly and buried herself in homework.

It turned out that something the books neglected to mention was that Alphas did not get along very well when there was an unbound Omega around. There was an immediate spike point losses and detentions starting the day Hermione first re-entered the Great Hall. The infractions ranged from dueling in the halls to violating the student dress codes.

It turned out that for Alphas the first order of business was not courting Hermione but rather establishing a pecking order among themselves. According to Ginny, who returned from rounds looking increasingly harried, the Alphas did so by sniping loudly at each other until it descended into an argument that descended into flying fists or hexes.

McGonagall called all the Alphas into her office during the first evening for "an orientation," which according to Neville mostly involved threatening them all roundly. It hardly deterred them. It was as though they couldn't help themselves. They squabbled; anywhere and over anything. They'd argued during classes, in hallways, at mealtimes, and in the library. The points of all the houses declined in a manner both rapid and noticeable over the course of several days.

They did try to be subtle. Neville mentioned that McGonagall had very pointedly reminded the boys that if their behavior got out-of-hand Hermione might choose to withdraw from school. So they mostly restricted themselves to admiring her from afar. They stared at her dopily when she entered classrooms and the Great Hall.

A few tried to approach Hermione in the library but it turned out that "reeking" of Malfoy had a noticeable dampening effect on their ardor. Several boys who summoned up the courage to approach her, stopped short, choked, and then tried to find an indirect way of demanding to know why she smelled as though she'd shagged Draco Malfoy. Hermione had coldly smiled and informed them that it was because she had.

The revelation was enough to cause two boys to immediately retreat. In fact, Malfoy's scent on Hermione held most of the Alphas back at the convenient distance of approximately five feet. It was enough to make her almost wish it wouldn't fade.

Neville remained friendly. Anthony and Peter, apparently spurred by one another, muscled through the feeling of "trespassing" and immediately invited themselves to join her whenever she was studying in the library.

Two days after Hermione re-emerged from her heat Peter found her tucked away finishing an essay she'd failed to turn in the week before. He had all his notes from the previous week's classes in his satchel.

It turned out Peter Selwyn's notes were practically to die for. Hermione had to restrain herself from gushing when she first saw his scrolls from Ancient Runes; the penmanship, the details, he even included cross-references. Hermione felt slightly envious that she had never thought to charm a transcription quill.

"Well," he said flushing when she ended up gushing slightly anyway. "Not being allowed to do anything that came across as taking a side made my social life pretty undistracting. School was all there was to do."

Hermione looked up at him carefully. She wasn't sure if she would ever have been attracted to him if she weren't an Omega, but somehow whenever he got close to her she had romantic visions of living on a Greek island with him.

She blinked repeatedly to banish them.

"Go ahead," he said with a resigned smile, "ask."

Hermione studied him for a moment, wondering if he were worth the effort of getting to know. Finally she asked, "Why were you neutral?"

"My paternal grandparents died during the Global Wizarding War, my father was adopted by his cousins; the Rosiers."

"Oh," Hermione said.

Peter ran his fingers through his hair and Hermione immediately noticed that he had nice hands and forearms. She pursed her lips and looked determinedly back down at his notes from Runes.

"Evan Rosier was like my father's baby brother. When Alastor Moody killed him, the grief nearly killed Evan's parents. But my father had married a Bones right out of school. It put my parents in a pretty awful position between the two sides. They somehow managed to maintain their relationships with both sides of the family by staying entirely neutral. After fourth year, I was told that if I didn't want to be home educated I would refrain from making any alliances that would get me pulled into the war."

He rubbed his jaw awkwardly and looked away from Hermione.

"All that to say, he's a coward who preferred to stand by and let Muggles and Muggleborns die rather than make family dinner awkward or endure the awful fate of home education," Anthony said, with an expression of mock admiration as he dropped into the chair on the other side of Hermione and picked up one of Peter's scrolls of notes. "But, Peter, your school notes really are good."

Peter turned red and glared at Anthony.  "Yes. If only I were a hero like you. Then I too could be sleeping my way through the female population of the school."

Anthony snorted audibly and the air abruptly filled with his pheromones. "I'm not sure what century you fell out of, Selwyn, but in the one I live in, witches make their own decisions about their sex lives. I am very respectful of a woman's right to choose. They don't need me to protect them from themselves."

"Oh right, I'm sure they all feel tremendously respected by the way that you pursue them until they have sex with you and then proceed to move on to the next girl." Peter rolled his eyes and snatched his notes away from Anthony's perusal.

"Are you implying that only men can enjoy casual sex, Selwyn?" Anthony said with an arched eyebrow.

Peter swallowed, glanced between Hermione and Anthony and then stood up abruptly and stalked away.

"I don't understand why that wanker keeps hanging around you," Anthony said as he stared at Peter's retreating back. "Then again: you and Malfoy. I'm still wrapping my mind around it."

Hermione's lips pursed slightly as she turned back to reading Peter's notes from Ancient Runes.

"Peter's very sweet. Besides, if I were to refuse to interact with any eighth-years who didn't fight in the Battle of Hogwarts that would be almost three-quarters of our year."

"So you're trying to be forgiving and move on from the past?" Anthony asked, twirling a quill in his fingers.

The smell of his pheromones was still heavy in the air. He leaned in his chair and tilted his head back flirtatiously. He wasn't wearing a tie and several buttons on his shirt were undone so that the base of his neck where his scent glands were was exposed.

It was intentionally distracting for Hermione, not to mention a dress-code violation. She forced herself not to stare or lean forward to try to smell him better as he clearly hoped she would.

"Trying," she said stiffly. "This year was supposed to be all about school for me. I had my course load pretty carefully balanced, but this," she gestured toward her own neck in the general area of her scent glands, "ended up derailing things pretty dramatically. If Peter wants to lend me his notes I'm not going to say 'no.' It's not as though I have to soulbond with him now."

Anthony laughed. Hermione rolled her eyes and wished he'd leave. Anthony had always made her uncomfortable. He acted overly-familiar with girls, both in the topics he would bring up and the ways he interacted. He tended to be handsy in a way that was always almost crossing a line, but not quite.

If he touched her at all, even the smallest bit of contact...she would probably hex him, she resolved to herself.

"So, the thing with Malfoy..." Anthony said, surreptitiously sliding his right index finger into the centre of his fisted left hand several times. She rolled her eyes. "Was that like, a being forgiving thing? Or a heat of the moment thing...?"

Hermione flushed.

"'Heat of the moment' about captures it," she said in a low voice. She swallowed hard.

"Ok. That's what I thought. Because, I mean Malfoy—so obviously it had to just be a heat—," Anthony's voice suddenly broke off and his eyes grew round as though he'd just had a sudden realization. He stared at Hermione for several seconds before blinking. "Wait. You mean like, your actual heat?"

Hermione looked at Anthony in disbelief That he'd only just figured that out. She gave a faint nod.

"Oh my god. How did I not realize that sooner?" Anthony was still staring at her agog, his jaw hanging somewhat slack. "You and Malfoy? For a week? Wow. Well, that explains the smell."

Hermione gave him a thin smile and wished once more that he'd leave. She picked up her quill to finish working on her essay.

"So," Anthony scooted slightly closer in his chair. Hermione shot him a glare and he paused and scooted back an inch, "that was ok with you? I know you testified for him but—your heat—that's..." he raised his eyebrows.

Hermione looked over at him trying to gauge the reason for his question.

"The whole Omega thing just seems pretty weird and offensive to me. No offense," Anthony said, looking semi-apologetic. "I mean, what kind of consent is it if the witch is in a situation where she's basically in agony unless she has sex with someone? And random men have the ability to basically force her into a submissive headspace if they want to? That's just..." Anthony's expression furrowed and he shuddered slightly.

Hermione's defensiveness faded somewhat. 

"I know," she said, her chest hurt with how bitterly she agreed. "The more I read about it the more horrified I become. It feels like some horrible evolutionary accident. Like there's this sex fiend in my brain trying to suffocate me. And as far as I can tell, there's nothing I can do about it other than keep choking down suppressants until I find someone I want to marry. But even that doesn't deal with all the problems."

Anthony gave her a sympathetic smile which she returned. Perhaps she'd misjudged Anthony. He seemed to understand her feelings about it better than anyone.

"Obviously I wouldn't have chosen Malfoy," she added. "What happened was pretty much a weird coincidence. But he was actually really nice about it in the midst of everything."

"And afterwards?" Anthony prodded. Hermione's expression tightened. "I noticed he doesn't seem to come around at all the way all the other Alphas do."

He nodded to the left and Hermione caught sight of Theodore Nott vanishing down an aisle. She bit her lip for a moment and looked at her essay.

"Well," she said quietly, "once all the hormones faded he remembered himself. He split pretty quickly after that."

"Oh... That must be so awkward. Especially with all the rest of us interrogating you about it." Anthony ducked his head down until his ears were level with his shoulders and clapped a hand over his mouth.

Hermione shrugged with a nonchalance she did not feel. "It's fine. I just keep reminding myself that this is all just based on biological imperatives."

She glanced at the time. "I've got to head to my Advanced Arithmancy class."

"I'll walk you," Anthony immediately sprang up gallantly but then looked bashful. "If you want. Obviously you're perfectly capable to walking yourself to class. You probably know like a thousand more hexes than me. But I can glower better. And dock points."

He smiled cheekily.

Hermione smiled back. Anthony had improved dramatically upon further acquaintance. She mentally recategorized him from "creep" to merely "weird."

He had the sense not to try offering his arm and stayed at a respectful distance. Hermione let him walk with her from the library to the Advanced Arithmancy class. He went all the way to the door with her.

There were a few students already seated when Hermione walked in, among them Malfoy. Malfoy glanced up briefly and then stilled for a split second when he saw Anthony at the door beside Hermione. Anthony jutted his chin up and smirked before turning to leave.

Hermione surveyed the room. The seating arrangements appeared to have been changed from previous weeks. Students who hadn't typically sat next to each other seemed paired off; presumably they were sitting with their partners for the project. Hermione hesitated for only a moment before she went to the back of the room and seated herself alone in a corner.

Malfoy didn't even glance up at her when she passed.

Not that she'd been looking, because she most certainly hadn't.