Sign Your Name Across My Heart

Chapter One: Equito ad Hogwarts

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter & Co. Why we even need to do these anymore is beyond me. I think we should have Proclaimers, in which we state that yes, indeed, we are, in fact, (insert name here). ;)


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Hermione smiled as she walked to the Heads Compartment. Finally, the year that would determine her life forever. Feeling a surge of confidence and pride as she reached the door, she put her hand up to the frosted glass, upon which in curling gold letters 'Head Compartment' was elegant scrawled, and pushed. She stepped into the compartment – and gasped. There, sitting calmly by the window, was Malfoy.


"Wh- what are you doing here?" Hermione breathed, startled to see him already there. Since when was Malfoy early for anything? Least of all anything academic? She had been expecting an empty compartment, where she could sit and read for a while until Malfoy finally strolled in all his arrogant and haughty way. She scowled a little as an amused smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.


"Same thing as you," he replied silkily, "Surely you were aware I am the new Head Boy? Or did you think it would be your boyfriend, Pothead? Or – ,"


"Harry is NOT my boyfriend," Hermione snapped defensively, bristling at Malfoy's arched eyebrow. "I was merely hoping you wouldn't be this early, so I could spend as little time as possible with you, Ferret Boy," she spat, a mingled look of contempt and satisfaction spreading across her face as two patches of angry red flared on his cheekbones.


"Sorry, Mudblood," he hissed. "I'm here, and you better get used to it. You know, we have to share a common room this year."


"Yes, I am aware of that unfortunate fact," Hermione said evenly, deciding to ignore him and purposely flipped open a thick book on her lap and began pointedly tracing lines with her finger.


"Unfortunate?" Draco said lightly. "You're the most envied girl in the school, to get to be in such close proximity to me-"


"You are the most conceited bastard," she said, rolling her eyes, then at his look of mild amusement, "I'm leaving." She threw her book down and stalked out of the compartment.


She stormed down the train passage, and spotting the carriage she was looking for, stamped in muttering darkly, and threw herself onto the bench seat. "Bloody Malfoy, he's an utter, utter prat... thinks he's so perfect, just because he's a pureblood and has money and two goons hanging on his every word…" Glancing up saw Ron and Harry's amused looks, and sighed. "Can I sit with you? I don't want to be stuck in that compartment with him."


"Of course, 'Mione! Do you really think we'd force you to be with the Ferret?" Ron answered grinning through a mouthful of chocolate frog, while Harry nodded earnestly at his side.


Hermione smiled at them. She really appreciated how her two best friends always made her feel welcome and loved. And Ron... He had recently told her how he felt about her, and they had gone on a date a few days later to a fancy Wizard restaurant in Diagon Alley. Ron had borrowed some money from the twins, who were already reaping the rewards of their inventions. Apparently the market was ripe for pranks, especially the ones of the twins' high quality and ingenious mischief content. They'd recently sold royalties of their Wet Start Fireworks to Filibusters and were rolling in the benefits. The gold wasn't enough to elevate the Weasley's reputation much, but they'd given up on that a long time ago. They seemed to be enjoying the same lifestyle as before, just without the constant worry – and the hand-me-downs.


Ron had started talking about how Fred and George were going to pay for another Weasley family holiday out to see Bill in Egypt. As he started relating his new and improved plan on how to shut Percy into a tomb, and not get found out, Hermione couldn't help laughing along with Harry. She curled onto the seat, and settled back for the journey.


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Meanwhile, Draco sat alone in the Heads compartment, staring out the window, the blurs of green fields and meadows zooming past his eyes, his face empty and passive.


He was pondering something he had overheard – well, eavesdropped, to be perfectly accurate – from a conversation between his father and a fellow Death Eater. They had been discussing his future induction to the Death Eaters, which was no secret to anybody. The son of Lucius, heir to the Malfoy estate, carefully bred, raised, and trained; the Slytherin prince could be no less...


However, not everyone knew you had to be initiated to join the Death Eaters.


Less knew the traditional initiation was a designated murder.


And only a select few knew Draco's assigned target was Hermione Granger.


Truth be told, he couldn't stand the girl. She always beat him at everything, with that bloody annoying angelic modesty she emanated the whole time. He still had a hold on Quidditch, thanks to her pathetic phobia of heights. But however aggravating the bushy-haired beaver was – he didn't think it necessary to kill her.


Killing someone, albeit an annoying bint, wasn't something he particularly desired to be doing before his 18th birthday. Who really cared if she wasn't a pureblood? Dumbledore obviously didn't, actually, that wasn't a very good example... but then Potter and Weasley – they worshipped the ground she walked on; the teachers and most of the other students, Slytherins excused, seemed to like her. All that really left was his father, possibly the Death Eaters, who basically cared about whatever they were told to care about – and him.


Draco glared at Hermione's suitcase as he contemplated ways to get out of killing people for his initiation. Better yet, a way to get out of the bloody initiation in the first place, he thought bitterly.


As the train neared Hogwarts, he heard a knock on the door to the compartment. "Come in," he called contemptuously, ruffled as he was disturbed from his thoughts. Hermione opened the door and sat down across from him, then proceeded to look out the window for any sign of Hogwarts approaching.


They sat there in silence for awhile, the tension increasing. Hermione tried to mentally review the summer homework she had done, but her thoughts kept drifting to Ron. Draco was trying to think about Pansy, the upcoming feast, anything to get his mind off his initiation, but his thoughts kept drifting towards Hermione, towards killing her...


He didn't even want to be a Death Eater in the first place. Oh, he knew he didn't have a choice, as long as his father was alive and out of Azkaban, as long as the Dark side had some semblance of power, he would have to be a Death Eater, it was just so. But the truth was Draco wasn't even on the Dark side. Sure, he had been, but he had changed, wasn't part of growing up discovering yourself? Well, Draco had discovered that he, unlike his father, wasn't a homicidal dark magic worshipping psycho. Dumbledore and Snape were the only two who knew Draco's new position. He wasn't amused by the fact that he'd soon be sitting his second initiation before he'd even left school, the first hadn't involved death, deceit and murder... but that wasn't really the point. And while he found the idea of being the youngest member of the Order of Phoenix ever, a hero, a spy, an undercover agent, all very exciting and romantic, he knew it wasn't going to be at all like those black and white Muggle films the house elves used to smuggle into the Manor for him to secretly watch in the holidays.


If my life was a film, I'd probably end up falling in love with Granger, he thought bitterly, smirking a little. They'd fall in love suddenly, passionately, and spend the night together under the brilliant starlight, and then he'd save her life heroically while saving the world-


But life wasn't a film. Life didn't have happy endings.


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A/N: Thanks to orchid for Zetaing this for me! Much loves!