Chapter 1. Hogwarts Express
She was staying, turning her face toward the sun, that was spilling through a glass roof, and hardly constrained a smile. As if she was afraid to believe that war is finished, that it is possible to stop fearing, that Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is dead.
Voldemort, Hermione quickly corrected herself.
It was easy not to think about him during last few months, which she had spent at home, with her family. After Kingsley's appointment to the Minister of Magic post, he had sent the best Obliviate-specialists to her parents before long, who helped Mr. and Mrs. Granger to put their memory in order.
But standing here, at the King's Cross Station and absorbing in itself voices of young wizards, an owl's hoot and noise of the train, which was releasing puffs, Hermione had again automatically remembered previous year. As in a kaleidoscope, she saw pictures, which quickly replaced each other under her closed eyelids: Bill and Fleur's wedding, patronus, the dark house at Grimmauld Place, the forest mushrooms gurgling in a kettle, blood on the hand, insane laughter; Harry, who was keeping the House-elf on his hands; Ukrainian Ironbelly, Fiendfyre, kiss with Ron in the Chamber of Secrets …
She shook her head, trying to get rid of the swept memories. What's wrong with her? Where is the trembling of seeing the big red train? Where is the excitement which agreeably tickles her back? Where is that girl, who was looking at the magic world with wide-open eyes like spellbound? The answer is too simple and short.
She had grown up.
Who is she now? She is Hermione Granger, the muggle-born witch, who has missed one year of education in Hogwarts, rushing over the woods in search of Horcruxes. She has first grade Order of Merlin, considerable gratuity for special achievements in the war, famous name, dazzling near the names of her friends almost in all newspapers, tens invitations for work to the most different departments including the Ministry. But who is she really?
She is just a girl without completed education, shuddering from any loud sound.
It is a shame to admit, but she imagined "A great Victory over the Dark Lord of all time" otherwise. The War has left too strong impression. And does she have anything to complain about? She is the only one, who hasn't lost relatives. Her closest friends are alive. The enemy is finally licked the dust. It is strange, but Hermione didn't think of death at all — her brain graciously protected her from these thoughts, allowing to keep the mind remains.
That's all. That is in the past. After all, if to look sensibly, everything is fine really. Now she has one more final year in Hogwarts. Anyone who missed the last year, as well as anyone who did not pass the NEWT, can go back there. That is, all her fellow students. No, for sure many people will not return. Someone thinks that the OWLs is enough to get a job in this life.
Someone, but not Hermione. And although the offers for work flowed like water, she has resolved to achieve everything without assistance.
So naive, she sniffed.
It is possible to think, that her name would not mean anything in just a year. Now she understood Harry, who was shouting in the Hog's Head that he was just lucky. As all her accomplishments, which were so vividly described in Daily Prophet, are exaggerated, to put it mildly.
Having opened her eyes, Hermione looked at her watch. It's fifteen minutes to eleven - the guys were always late.
Crookshanks discontentedly spitted in the cage.
"Be patient, Crookshanks", she whispered tenderly. "Soon we'll go and then I'll let you out."
But where are they?
Hermione began to look around nervously.
In the distance, Neville quickly tramps holding Luna by her hand. With one foot already stepping in the train, he notices Hermione, smiles and raises his eyebrows, inquiringly gesturing with his free hand, saying, "Where's Harry and Ron?". Hermione shrugs her shoulders and frowns expressively. Making it clear that she doesn't know. He laughs and draws the companion behind him. She smiles serenely and like in a dream follows him.
The heart is immediately filled with warmth. That's what it was worth fighting for! It is enough to look at these two. The way Neville has changed is impossible not to notice. It seems that even the boyish clumsiness disappeared in him.
When Hermione came to this conclusion, her gaze caught the movement to the right. Turning her head, she almost bursts into laughter - a big toad jumps on the platform. Trevor. Without hesitation for a second, she rushes to grab it, but after making a couple of quick steps, she already understands that she will not have time. The tall young man bent down and nimbly raised the fugitive in her stead.
"It ran away, did not it?", none other than Blaise Zabini asked.
What? Seriously? Hermione's eyebrows themselves crawled upward as he continued to smile imperturbably.
"It's not my toad, it's Neville. But thanks.", having taken the loss in her hands, she decided, that it is not necessary to be rude. In the end, Zabini was more than courteous to her. And this frankly was somewhat confusing.
"Well, good journey.", he smiled again and stepped away.
Hermione nodded uncertainly, unable to squeeze out the answer. Did he help her? He smiled? Slytherin? The one who hates her a priori, and even more after the outcome of the war? What a bullshit.
She involuntarily watched him leave. He went to Malfoy and said something to him. But Hermione's gaze fell farther, then the Slytherin couple stood. Finally, her shoulders relaxed, and a smile played on her face. Two men ran into the platform, out of breath. Dishevelled black and fiery heads. Hermione rushed to her friends in anticipation of a hug and to read a lecture to such strong delay.
Slowly looking around the coach, Draco once again wondered what the hell he had forgotten there. It makes him sick of the memory of how McGonagall, clutching her already thin lips, let him continue his education. After the trial at the Ministry, he often caught such indulgent-accusing views. They were like shouting: "We are so kind, appreciate it, you owe us everything!". Although, it is necessary to admit, he often caught bastard-you-must-die-in-Azkaban gazes. And many people said worse things without hesitation.
Draco wondered to whom he has to be really obliged. Of course, on the first place is his mother. Only she could say with a look: "Ignore everyone and live on.". He amazed at how she was holding herself in her arms. His father perished in prison without parole; most of the family's property was confiscated by the Aurors; half of the accounts in Gringotts were frozen "until the circumstances became clear.". But her mother stands: tall, pale, with her head held high. And only through the eyes you can see how it hurts. Definitely she is on the first place. He promised her to be quiet as a mouse and humbler than dust. And he will try to keep his promise.
Next - Blaise. After the trial, he was the only one who came to his estate. The one who communicated with Draco on an equal footing, and did not look, as if he was mud under his nails. It's amazing how the students on the platform hid their gazes from the Slytherin students.
Well, I'm not so interesting after the downfall of the Dark Lord?
There is one more person to whom he is obliged. How it was humiliating to admit, but he is obliged to Potter.
I am obliged to freaking golden boy.
Draco is not an idiot to deny the obvious. He is obliged to him by his own life. And he should stop pretending that he thinks about it for the first time. He learned to admit his mistakes. Even if through his teeth. But it will wait. The express hasn't passed also a half of a way yet.
"Blaise, about what you were prattling with Granger?", he asked, dispelling these thoughts from himself.
"Longbottom lost his toad, and I helped her to catch it.", the friend shrugged his shoulders.
"Apparently you have nothing to do.", Draco rolled his eyes and stroked his owl idly.
"What? She is not bad, maybe I will get something from the heroine of the War.", Zabini's lips stretched out in a dreamy grin.
Draco snorted. The whole Potter's gang everyone called as heroes now.
"Are you kidding?"
"Well, she's not stupid, famous, and apparently she isn't as scruffy as before. You're not blind and you've seen everything by yourself.", Blaise shrugged again and stared out the window.
Of course, he has seen. Once at the Yule Ball. The second is at the Slughorn's party, briefly. And of course, last year, when she was at his estate. Then Draco especially noted how she had changed. Maybe it was her clothes. He used to see her only in school uniform and dense mantle. Well, a couple of times in Hogsmeade, but it was a long time ago. Now she has jeans by shape, light shirt, but she has a habitual nest on her head in which leaves are stuck. But even among this nest the face was visible: the features became more delicate, the cheekbones - sharper, the eyes - more expressive. And everything would be fine if these eyes did not have such horror, and after a couple of minutes her neat lips did not utter a cry, full of pain.
Draco made a wry face. And after that he needs to think about Granger as a girl? No, thanks.
The compartment's door opened and the curious Pansy's head looked inside.
"I'm not interrupting you, boys?", she asked quietly and glanced at Malfoy.
Since when she has such uncertain voice?
Everything would be fine, but Draco did not want to spend time with her company. He stood up and opened the door, letting her in.
"No, you will not disturb, I'm just leaving.", he said and slipped out towards the corridor.
Maybe he should have been softer. It's silly to believe that she didn't communicate with him of her own free will. After the Dark Lord's downfall, many people were quiet, like mice, not showing their noses from their holes. She is the one who used to eat out of his hands before, but in court she averted her eyes. Therefore, resentment has not gone anywhere.
Draco stared out the window, watching the landscape change into huge fields, some of which remained burned. He was ready to stand this way until the end of the trip, if only no one came to him. And to ignore hateful views became a habit long ago.
Suddenly a creak was heard from the left. Turning around, Draco saw an old witch pushing a handcart with sweets.
Let everyone go to hell! It is better to deal with everything at once and not to return to it again.
Raising his eyes for a moment to the ceiling, he lagged along the coach to the opposite direction.
"I'm going to starve to death.", Ron complained, pushing Pigwidgeon aside. It has flitted around the compartment, happily chirping. "Shut up!"
Harry looked absently at him, pulling his mantle on, but Hermione did not even turn herself away from reading the Prophet. Changing clothes to each other for so long did not seem to be something embarrassing. Six months ago they spent the night in one tent.
"Is there anything interesting?", Harry asked, nodding at the newspaper.
Hermione raised her eyes.
"There is new list of prisoners. There are no famous people among them, so without details.", she sighed, putting the publication aside.
"I don't understand why we are going.", Ron grumbled.
Harry and Hermione exchanged an understanding glance. Of course! They remembered how irritable was Ron when he felt hungry.
"Because, Ronald", she began to instruct, "without NEWT, your chances of finding a decent job are almost equal to zero. And you shouldn't rely on your name. During the work, you still have to show what you're good at."
"So you think I can't do anything?", Ron flared up instantly.
"No, I did not mean that.", Hermione tried to make her voice softer. "Just what should be obligatory in the school curriculum isn't quite identical to your real knowledges."
"I'm going to work in the store with Fred and George. They certainly will not check whether I have passed NEWT and whether I passed OWLs at all.", he said and fell silent. "With George, I mean."
Harry suddenly became very interested in his boot tips. They have never discussed it. Hermione felt a pricks of conscience. Evidence at the endless courts in the Ministry was not available for discussion, and at the summer spent at home, she received no more than ten letters from Ron. Hoping that this gesture would not be inappropriate, she covered his palm with hers.
In the silence that followed, there was a knock that made Hermione to give a start from surprise and she instinctively gripped her wand. Embarrassed, she put it back in its place.
What a fool I am, she mentally scolded herself.
Harry stood up and opened the door, and Hermione almost instantly noticed the surprised expression on his face. Who's there? She didn't see because of Ron.
"Potter, need to talk.", familiar cold voice said, but without former arrogance.
Hermione and Ron looked at each other.
Did he just forget something here?
"What do you need?", Ron snapped out, as if reading her thoughts.
There was only silence in response. Without commenting on the statement of his friend, Harry silently stepped out into the corridor and closed the door behind him.
"What does he need?", Ron repeated his question, looking at Hermione, as if she knew the answer. Red spots appeared on his face.
He fells angry. That's the limit!
She shrugged deliberately and again took Ron's hand. It seems that it has distracted his attention. A few minutes later Harry returned completely confused.
"What did he want?", Hermione softly asked, passing ahead of Ron's exclamation.
"Malfoy thanked me for helping him get out of the Chamber of Secrets and for saying a word about his mother on the court.", Harry answered hesitantly, slapped his eyes a couple of times and shifted from one foot to the other.
Under the shocked stares of his friends, he flopped down on the seat.
Hermione did not interfere in their conversation, trying to get distracted, but it seemed that they had been discussing this for ages. They constructed theories, analyzed each word spoken by Malfoy and his facial expression, and discussed what consequences this would entail. There were different options. For example, he wants to regain his reputation by using the Harry's name; he is going to watch them and then to stab in their backs; he wants to avenge his father ... But the most idiotic thing that Hermione had heard - he wants to continue Voldemort's affair.
Her patience has run out. Unable to stand, she jumped to her feet and cried out: "Do you really have nothing to do?! Damn it, Voldemort's dead! Malfoy is a coward! We have a calm year for a long time! We have a year to devote for study and nothing to bother!", her hands were shaking. "Let's live at least one year, like normal people!"
Hermione could barely restrain her angry tears. Her friends stared at her in shock, not uttering a sound. This was not the first time, by the way. She stamped her foot and rushed out of the compartment.
Why, why do they complicate everything? They did not have enough adventure? Is it really impossible to spend the last year quietly like the most ordinary students?
Hell, Hermione even turn down the post of head girl for not to get into anything! She just wanted to learn, walk around Hogsmeade, sit in the library, take examinations, rest in the living room by the fireplace, have fun, as it should be for her age, watch this stupid Quidditch, after all! Doesn't she deserve it?
Screwing up her eyes, Hermione covered her ears with her hands, as if afraid that Ron and Harry would run after her, starting to change her mind. She leaned her forehead against the glass and started to count.
One… Guys are just trying to be on the alert.
Two… Is not that what Mad-Eye taught them?
Three… But the War is over!
Four… You never know what's watching for you around the corner.
Five… There is nothing more to be afraid of.
Six…
A large hand lightly touched her shoulder.
She jumped unexpectedly, noisily drawing in the air. Her eyes opened wide, and her hand enfolded the wand.
Blaise recoiled and raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. Hermione's shoulders relaxed.
"Sorry…", she muttered, removing her hand from the shaft, and with an effort of will gave to her voice a tone of polite detachment, "did you want something?"
"Are you okay?", Zabini slightly knitted his brows, looking at her.
"Yes, everything is fine.", Hermione has lied, lifting her chin and straightening her shoulders, "I just decided to warm up. So, you wanted something?"
"I was just standing there", Zabini waved his hand to the left, pointing to Malfoy, who, leaning against the wall of the couch, captiously was examining his fingernails, "when I saw you run out of the compartment", he seemed uncomfortable, "but I didn't mean to frighten you."
"You did not frighten me.", Hermione knew for herself how improbable it sounds, especially as her voice quavered traitorously. And he saw when she had run out.
Appallingly!
But what's the difference in principle? This is Zabini, Malfoy's henchman! Why is she even justified? But if she really decided to lie, then to the end.
"Everything is fine."
Zabini for a while turned his eyes away, quickly thinking something out, then abruptly turned and blurted out: "Would you like to spend the rest of the way in our compartment?"
Hermione blinked. She seemed to hear it? He invited her to the Slytherins coach?
"Er…", she hesitated, "Zab… Blaise, I don't think this is a good idea. Scarcely my friends will understand me, and no one from Slytherin will want to see me."
"I will want.", Zabini nodded confidently.
Hermione bit her lip, not knowing what to say. Here's again. He is polite, he smiles and looks friendly. What's all this for? And… Is she embarrassed to refuse? Oh, well, doesn't she think that her refusal can hurt him! Why should she have to worry about this at all?
Hermione always loved Ginny, and when she appeared in the aisle, she was ready to kiss her. Turning to Zabini, Hermione made a helpless gesture with her hands, as if to say "there's nothing to be done", grabbed Ginny's arm before she starts asking questions, and pulled her in the compartment.
Approaching her friend's ear almost at the very door of the couch, she whispered quickly: "Don't say anything to the guys, I'll explain later.", it was enough not to complicate the situation.
And she entered inside, avoiding the surprised look.
"You… What?"
"I have invited her in our compartment. So what?", Zabini looked at the student's icy face, frowning.
"What the fuck, Blaze? And you did not want to ask me before that?", Draco did his best not to be angry. Vainly, of course.
"I did not invite her to you, but to myself. Parkinson decided to go to Daphne, so the compartment is free. In my opinion, you were not going to come back."
Malfoy clenched his teeth in silence. Of course, he was not going to. Especially, after this humiliating conversation with Potter. Draco was too excited to talk to anyone. Not in the nearest future.
But he must give Potter due - he didn't pose as hero, did not stick out his chest, showing his superiority. Just nodded and muttered something like "take it easy.". Fuck it, is this easier? It was his phrase that made Draco even more angry. Or to feel his selfishness?
Of course, he was just trying to keep Malfoy from being embarrassed, as if to say "anyone would do the same, there's nothing to talk about.".
That's just the point, Potter. Not anyone.
Before shaking his hand, Draco involuntarily experienced a nasty deja vu. Once upon a time, it seems, it was in a past life, he held out his hand to Potter in the same way. Now the hero of the War did not disdain - he has taken a handshake. Maybe a little stronger than it should be. But fast enough not to delay the whole situation.
"Relax. I'm still thinking whether there is any sense to adhere to her. She's kinda antsy.", Blaise looked at Granger and Weasley, the girls just disappeared behind the doors.
Draco hemmed. Of course she was antsy. He would have looked at Zabini after a couple of hours alone with Bellatrix.
"Okay, let's go.", he said quietly, and without looking at his friend, he stepped toward the compartment.
The rest of the way was more or less calm. Harry and Ron did not push the what-is-he-up-to issue again and avoided Hermione's gaze. After the Ginny arrival, Neville and Luna came up. And then Dean and Seamus. Neville was very happy to meet his toad. It was very crowded, but the situation was exhausted. If there were disputes, but only about Quidditch, and there's no object. So, from the train they were already leaving with the big company, laughing and discussing the coming year.
It was wet on the platform, the train let dense puffs out into the dark, the air seemed heavy. As always, Hagrid met students and, not caring about propriety, immediately grabbed Harry in a bear hug, wailing as he was glad to see him. The same fate was awarded to Ron and Hermione.
Reminding the giant that he was waiting for first-year students, the company went to the carriage with the rest of the students. Listening to the conversations, Hermione realized that the main theme today's evening was whether to restore the castle. She often thought about it. The founders have built Hogwarts for many years. Even scary to imagine the scale of destruction.
"Ginny, do you think the library did not suffer?", Hermione got into the conversation.
Ginny laughed loudly.
"Who about what, and you about the library! Do you really think that the battle has reached it? There are only shelves, it is impossible to turn around there.", Ginny smiled, "How would we learn without books? I'm sure it's all right there."
Oh, if only… The Eaters could just have fun to set fire to everything there. Books about Dark Arts are still in the forbidden section, but why do they need the rest? There were rare ancient books, scrolls. Perhaps in a single specimen!
"Don't worry like that, Hermione,", Ron gave a voice, "you've already read all the books there."
Everyone laughed. Hermione smiled, and remarked silently - she's still the same know-all in the eyes of her friends. But now it unpleasantly hurt.
The crowd thickened, the conversations grew louder. Looking around, she noticed that the students had properly decreased. Red and green ties were the least. Probably some died, others hid.
"Germione…", Ron opened his mouth and looked at the carriages. She followed his gaze, "Do you… see this, too?"
"Oh…"
She first saw these incredible creatures, and they looked exactly the same as described in the book. Black skin, an extended muzzle looks like a dragon, eyes with white pupils slightly shine in the dark, wings are folded along stringy body. Thestrals.
Hermione has flown on one of them, but could not even imagine what a sad beauty they have.
The students began to turn to Ron's exclamation. For a couple of minutes, the night filled with silence.
His hand was already involuntarily reaching for the face of the nearest animal, as a bitter laugh and a familiar voice pierced with sarcasm: "Are you seriously, Weasley? Do you think no one can see them?"
Draco Malfoy was standing leaning against a large tree, and his lips curled slightly in a grin.