If it were up to Hermione Granger, Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley would be at her side, each holding one of her hands as they waited for the Hogwarts Express to depart. She would not be huddled, alone, in a compartment. She would not be shivering despite the warming charms cast on the train. She would not be clenching a crinkled letter in her clammy palm. She most definitely would not be contemplating what gruesome fate was awaiting her at Hogwarts.
Alas, Harry and Ron had decided that they needed a break after winning the war; they had decided they would not be returning to Hogwarts to finish their education. The Ministry of Magic allowed them permission to return for a week in late Spring to complete their NEWTS. Although Hermione had thought on that route, she simply could not resist returning for her last run.
The slightly damp parchment in her hand was personally written to her by Professor McGonagall, who was more accurately the Headmistress now. It explained that among the original thirty-three students in her year, only fifteen would be returning. It also mentioned that those fifteen would be placed in the abandoned wing of Hogwarts, all merged into one common room.
Hermione was startled from her thoughts when her compartment door swung open with a "CLACK!" She turned her affronted stare to the three looming figures in the doorway. Her heart nearly stopped when she looked up into the smiling faces Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom. Momentarily forgetting the rain cloud looming over her head, she threw herself into the three familiar boys. They each gave her a massive bear hug and a cheerful greeting, to which she responded in kind.
Hermione had not heard from either Dean or Seamus since the end of was war nearly a year and a half ago, and to say they had been weighing on her mind was an understatement.
"Oi, 'Mione, I here we're the only four Gryff's comin' back," Seamus said after he had gotten comfortable. He sat directly across from her, his feet planted on the ground and his knees spread wide in a relaxed, confident position. In her younger years, Hermione had never failed to notice Seamus's alluring disposition. Although mainly focused on her academics, she had her fair share of relationships and ridiculous crushes. Studying the Irish boy before her now, with his wide grin, blue-green eyes, and perfectly messy bronze hair, she realized that she had no restraints on her this year. No lives to save. No riddles to solve. No Voldemort to conquer. She could have whatever she could get; whatever she wanted. The thought alone was enough to bring a smile to her lips.
"Is that so?" Hermione posed the question with a quirky raise of her brows. "I saw Padma Patil earlier. I tried to get a word in, but I got the distinct feeling she didn't want to speak with me." That was lightly speaking. The girl had blatantly asked Hermione to go away.
"I saw her, too," Neville piped up, a troubled frown catching his lips. "She was kind of blunt."
"Reckon it has anythin' to do with Parvarti bein' a Gryff?" Seamus inquired, sober while speaking of their deceased housemate.
No one said anything, they knew Seamus was spot-on. The last warning whistle screeched, and with it, the Hogwarts Express began it's slow chug out of King's Cross.
Hermione didn't protest when Dean promptly stretched out on their shared seat and placed his head in her lap. In fact, she rather liked it. She missed the smug look Dean shot Seamus and she absently ran her fingers through his short curls. She also missed the resulting hand gesture Dean received from the Irish boy.
It was eerie how normal Hogwarts looked; like a war hadn't happened there only a pile of months ago. Hermione held Neville's hand amiably. It helped quell the shaking in her fingers and she guessed it had a similar affect on his, from the stocky boy's relaxed demeanor. Hermione needn't explain the creatures pulling their carriage. She wasn't sure there was a returning student that had lived through the war that couldn't see the thestral's.
Once inside the Entrance Hall, the returning students were directed by Headmistress McGonagall to sit with their proper houses until further directed. Seamus chattered at Hermione with growing humor, while she continued to pretend to pay attention to his antics. As soon as she had stepped into Hogwarts, Hermione was reminded that she would not see Ron or Harry until Spring when they came for NEWTS. Being the studious person she was, she figured she would stay over breaks and continue her studies for NEWTS. What was worse, she had spotted Draco Malfoy among the returning. He was near a few returning Slytherin's, one she recognized as Gregory Goyle. He was set apart from them, dressed in pure black fitted robes. His face was as hard as granite, and his eyes reminded her of a storming sea. His gaze was fixated on the empty seat which Professor Snape had occupied for a countless number of years.
Hermione couldn't put her finger on it, but something was definitely off about him. As she looked closer, she noticed there were magically altered purple bruises underneath his eyes. The charm was obviously fading; spots were showing through. Even from Hermione's vantage point from across the Great Hall, she could tell his hands were badly burned and scarred- they resembled Charlie Weasley's, in a way. The comparison made Hermione scoff.
"Yeh, me mam is off her rocker," Seamus agreed with what he thought was Hermione's input. "Tried to sell me off to some rich slave-owner in fourth year. I ever tell you 'bout tha'?"
"Yes, quite a few times, if I recall." Dean choked with laughter the moment he heard her. Seamus sent him a nasty look.
"Attention! Attention!" McGonagall's shrill voice cut through the room. The loud murmur of voices winded down. "Welcome back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." There were catcalls, whistles, and loud applause at this statement, mostly from the older students.
McGonagall shortly introduced the incoming first years. Some wore expressions of excitement, other were uncertain, and some look plain terrified. Once the twenty students were sorted, only three of which being Gryffindor's, McGonagall announced that the returning seventh years were to meet her by the Grand Staircase at precisely seven thirty. Then, just as Hermione remembered, the empty platters and trays were filled up with mouth-watering entrées. Neville resembled Ron in a comical manner as he sprang to fill up his plate.
Hermione swiped a juicy looking chicken breast and drizzled a cherry wine sauce over it. As she pour herself a goblet of pumpkin juice, her eyes drifted up to her Headmistress, who was watching Draco Malfoy stalk quickly from the room with a concerned, knowing look fixed on her face.
As asked, once the clock started ticking near seven thirty, Hermione and her fourteen year mates made their way to the Grand Staircase. McGonagall waited patiently among them as the last two Slytherin's, Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass, arrived.
"Welcome back," she greeted with a thin smile. "Follow me to your new quarters, where you will be spending the remainder of the year as one house." With that statement, she began a quick stride, away from the staircase and toward the west hallway that Hermione had only ever ventured down once while doing her prefect duties- it was desolate and cold and she was sure there were charms cast on it specifically to ward off students.
No one spoke- most likely studying their new surroundings.
They turned down many winding hallways with ancient, slumbering portraits littering the walls. As they ventured further into the building, it became warmer. Not just the air; Hermione felt her spirits lifting.
"Headmistress, it seems a tad warm down here," Hermione commented after she observed Seamus yanking at his collar.
"Yes, I'm afraid so. Many years ago a rather vicious heating curse was placed on these hallways, we've managed to cool it but it will remain warm at all times." McGonagall said in a calm voice, leading them down a wide staircase that was hidden behind a statue of a man riding a horse with his sword raised high.
"This is pretty well thought-out and deep into the castle for just us returning students, isn't it, Headmistress?" The shy, quiet figure of Hannah Abbott spoke. She fidgeted with her cloak seam as many eyes found her in the dark of the hallway. There were very little light sources, a lantern turning up only once in a while.
"That is a point I am thankful you brought up, Miss Abbott," McGonagall smiled her thin smile and continued leading them through dark, warm, dry corridors. "The Ministry decided that even though you fifteen bravely decided to return to complete your education, that you also may need a break from the questions, the peering eyes, the ones who don't understand. We put this together specifically for your comfort. Never has this wing been accessed fully by a student since the founders built it. It was somewhat of a teacher's common room. Nowadays, however, teacher's never use it, due to the heating curse and it's distance from classrooms." Hermione was very intrigued by this. McGonagall continued, "all of the rooms around here have old books and even some muggle items for you to explore. Most of it has remained untouched for nearly a century."
"That sounds delightful!" Daphne Greengrass, a rather intelligent Slytherin, exclaimed. Hermione agreed wholeheartedly. Imagine all the information she'd been missing for years!
Abruptly, McGonagall stopped in front of a fountain that was jutting out of the wall. "Now, this is very important; you must tap your wands to the water in this fountain three times and then recite the password- which will be of your collected choosing. Once you do so, you may enter and find yourselves in a room that suits itself to best please the lot of you. I will not be permitted to enter, only those fifteen returning that are in need of it. I will leave you here with this warning; put your pasts behind you. Goodnight." Without further ado, Headmistress McGonagall stalked away quickly.
Once her footsteps had faded away, Michael Corner spoke up. "I say the password is "Quindecim Amicus." It means "Fifteen Friends" in Latin." He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. The rest were silent for a few moments, each pondering his barely hidden offer of friendship and cordiality. Hermione loved the idea, for they would technically be their own house now; they needed some kind of agreement. Some kind of tension reliever. Hannah Abbott nodded her head in agreement, as did Hermione and Neville.
"That's a fantastic idea," Gregory Goyle spoke up, clapping Corner on the shoulder in a sign of rough agreement. The messy-haired boy froze. Suddenly all eyes were on the Slytherin's, watching them with weary eyes.
"I like it," Tracey Davis muttered, while Daphne nodded vigorously. Blaise nodded his head once, half a smirk resting on his thin lips. Now everyone glanced at Malfoy, who was a good distance away from the rest of them, leaning against a wall. The spell he'd used to cover the bags under his eyes had fully worn off now, Hermione noticed, and deep shadows rested under his eyes- not unlike hers had been when she was Horcrux hunting with Harry. Now that she was closer, she could see many cuts, scratches, and bruises littering the pale skin that was visible, not hidden beneath his black robes.
He stared back at the group as a whole, his eyes never focusing on one of them. His zombie-like disposition had Hermione straining to hear the words come from his lips. She found herself almost wishing he broke out his old sneer and spewed a rude comment. "Okay." Of course, though, things weren't quite as they were before.
Watching Malfoy stand alone, bruised and battered from something unknown, with his chest heaving irregularly, Hermione realized that things were still unsettled. Though the war was over, some were still living it. Hermione herself included. She looked around her- at Padma Patil, who had lost her twin sister to a murderous maniac. At Ernie MacMillan, who had stood bravely alone in the war after Death Eaters had invaded his home, killing his parents. At Dean Thomas, who had fought a majority of the war without a wand, just hours after escaping the dungeons of Malfoy Manor.
Her eyes drifted back to Malfoy as he pushed off the wall to join them as they huddled around the ancient fountain. Draco Malfoy, who had lived among Death Eaters for years while never being one at heart. Draco Malfoy, who had tried to kill Dumbledore for an entire year before realizing his heart was too soft. Draco Malfoy, who had often found compassion in himself and helped prisoners get food and water during the war. Draco Malfoy who had been so reluctant to join his parents and Voldemort during the standoff. Draco Malfoy, who now kept to himself and was often spotted having trouble with his breath intake, or shaking violently.
The water was crystal clear and rippled as they tapped their wands three times on the surface and whispered "Quindecim Amicus" in unison. Nothing happened for a long while. They looked around at each other as if the other would have an answer. Finally, Blaise stepped forward and stuck his hand into the fountain.
"I figured," he started in his low, deep voice. "It's not wet." And with that statement, he lifted himself into the fountain and disappeared under the water.
They stared around at each other in amazement. Padma went next, donning a surprised expression as she too concluded that the water was not, in fact, wet. Hermione was too curious to hold back, and she went.
She ran her fingers through the water, only to find that it was not water, but a fog-like substance. She stepped in and onto a stair. She went down the stairs slowly until her head was fully submerged in the fog. She gasped.
An incredibly large common room sat before her, with one wall being a floor to ceiling window that held a fantastic view of the grounds from foot level. There was a grand fireplace burning, with four couches and another seven cushy looking armchairs. There were tables around the windows for homework or games. The color scheme was of all the house colors- red, gold, green, silver, blue, bronze, yellow, and black meshed together rather nicely. The ceiling was incredibly high and held many painting of unknown witches and wizards. The floor was a soft, cushy black carpet that sunk between Hermione's toes whenever she stepped.
Off to the right, the other wall was occupied by a rather impressive kitchen-area. It was large, open, and had a full dining table near it.
On the left wall, a hallway made itself known. Hermione guessed the bedrooms were down that way. Padma was standing by the window, lost in her thoughts, and Blaise was no where in sight; he probably went to examine his living quarters.
Hermione heard a low whistle from the stairs she had just walked down moments ago. She turned to see Seamus approaching her, while still examining the humongous room. He put an arm around her shoulders amiably as he said, "well, 'Mione, welcome back to Hogwarts."