Prompt: Control
Summary: An eleven year old Draco Malfoy encounters an interesting girl on the train to Hogwarts.

Draco stepped onto the Hogwarts Train for the first time exactly five minutes before the train was scheduled to depart. His new black robes were pressed, his hair was gelled and parted down the side, and his wand was tucked into his belt within easy reach.

He felt very important striding through the green double doors, stepping up the high train steps, entering into the fairly large, very crowded train corridor. It was exciting in the sense that he had never been on this train before–especially by himself–and yet also very satisfying that he knew his way around. He was in no hurry, unlike the bustling students fretting around like poppy cocks; his father had brought him to station nine and three quarters an entire hour early, in order for Draco to get his trunk stowed away first thing and to acquaint himself with the train floor plan.

Such was the typical procedure during a Malfoy outing: gather information, devise a plan of action, and execute with flawless precision. It was a required procedure. Lucius Malfoy had been very clear before he left Draco to wander the platform–control, over yourself and your situation, is essential if you desire an advantage.

Draco stepped quickly aside into the doorway of his compartment as a boy his age came charging down the hall towards him, round face full of panic. Draco watched him go by, a sneer tugging on his lips. The boy was stuttering to everyone he met, ducking and jumping around people, sneaking glances between people's feet and spouting nonsense about some 'Trevor' or 'Travis.' It was pathetic behavior, really.

"A Hufflepuff for sure, that one," Draco said smugly to himself.

"Do you really think so?" came a voice very close to his left. Draco jumped, and whirled around. A girl his age was sharing his doorway, appraising him with a frank expression. She had thick, bushy brown hair and a pointed nose with a few freckles over the bridge. Strangely enough, she reminded him of his mother. She was also already dressed in her school robes, like him.

He studied her a moment, trying to decide who she was. "Yes," he said at last, "I should think it would be quite obvious. No brains at all in him, if you know what I mean."

The girl tilted her head curiously, eyes flickering down the hall to the where the boy was still chasing whatever he had lost. "Oh I don't know about that," she said. "I've read a bit about Hufflepuffs in Hogwarts: A History and it's not a bad house, not as good as maybe Ravenclaw..."

"Or Slytherin," Draco interjected. He decided that if she already knew details about Hogwarts and its houses, it was probably okay to talk to her.

The girl blinked. "Umm...yes, I suppose so. They are very ambitious, aren't they..." She turned her head back to the hall, pretending to look around, but continued glancing at him occasionally from the corner of her eye.

Draco stared at her, a frown touching his lips. She was only vaguely pretty (ugliest hair he'd seen in his life) but there was something a bit cool about her, about the way she surveyed the chaos around them with a calm eye. She didn't seem half as flustered as the rest of the students in their year; on the contrary, she looked quite pleased with herself, as if she knew something everyone else didn't. Clearly she was a know-it-all, but it didn't irritate Draco as much as he would have thought.

It was probably because she was the only one, aside from him, who was acting like that.

Draco stuck his hand out abruptly. "I'm Draco Malfoy," he declared. He was curious now; he wanted to know who she was, what family she was from. He wanted to know if she'd had to endure reading Hogwarts: A History because her father had made her, if she'd tried any spells already, if she'd succeeded.

The girl eyed his hand a moment, then took it. Her hand was warm but firm. "I'm Hermione Granger," she replied, and there was a sort of lilt in the way she said 'I'm' that made Draco blink. Before he could say anything, however, the boy from before rushed past them again, bumping into Draco's shoulder with a flustered apology. Draco scowled, sending the boy a scathing glare, and was about to yell after him when the Hermione abruptly dropped his hand. He turned back, startled.

"I guess I'll be going. I should see what is the matter," she said wryly, motioning with her head to the boy's retreating figure. "Goodbye, Draco Malfoy. And good luck in to getting into Slytherin." With a quick nod of her head, she walked away, leaving Draco to stare after her wordlessly.

"Draco!"

The call did not come from the girl, as Draco expected; the voice was slightly lower, and from behind. It snapped Draco out of his daze. He turned around swiftly and spotted Vincent Crabbe hustling his way through the crowded hallway. Any other person might have smiled and waved at the sight of their childhood friend. Draco frowned and crossed his arms.

"Vincent!" he barked over the din. "Where have you been? And where is Greg? You two were supposed to be here three minutes ago."

"Sorry," Vincent grunted as he shoved another first year into one of the closed compartment doors. His forehead was already wet with sweat. He came to a stop next to Draco, squeezing into the space the Hermione girl had stood moments before, and looked down at the blonde. "Had to stow my trunk."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I told you before Vince, if you came early you wouldn't have to worry about anything." His eyes glanced down the hall, where Granger had headed, but saw only older students.

"Not everyone's as prepared as you are," Vincent said somewhat mulishly, his eyes darting around the crowded hallway. "Are we going to go inside?"

It took a moment for Draco to realize Vincent was talking about their compartment. "Yes, yes, you go on," Draco replied, motioning vaguely at the sliding door. "But I think I'll just...wait for Greg out here."

Vincent slid open the glass door and quickly squeezed through without another word, but Draco wasn't paying attention. His eyes darted back and forth between the faces in the halls, recognizing some and memorizing others. Gregory didn't show up for another four minutes, which Draco was all too willing to point out to him once he arrived. Greg simply grunted, used to Draco's freakishness about punctuality; Vincent, who got annoyed when he was nervous, frowned but was otherwise complacent. Draco, after a ten minute rant, was decidedly fine.

He didn't see Hermione Granger again until he spotted her bushy hair suffocating the Sorting Hat. He would know too.

He had been watching.