The characters and canon situations in the following story belong solely to JK Rowling, Scholastic and WB. I am not making any money from the publishing or writing of this story.

This is the first fan fic I ever wrote, years ago. The story is about 10,000 words (3 chapters or so) and will be completely uploaded in the next few days. Thanks to my beta Queen of Stars, who put up with my cliche sappy story.

Chapter One – Compartment Truths

Hermione Granger sat in a compartment alone and watching the countryside pass as the train sped her further away from all her friends. She was alone. The truth had finally set in, and she had to face it. She was alone. No Harry, no Ron, not even Ginny to keep her company. After all the years they had spent together, it was shocking and sad to let them go. The reality of it was felt even stronger as she went back to Hogwarts, the place they'd always shared. Now, it would be the place where she had to face the memory filled halls alone. Curling her legs underneath herself, she sighed and closed her eyes and gave into her pity fest. Drifting off into thought, she wondered what the year would hold for her and remembered the friends she'd left behind.

When she received the letter from Headmistress McGonagall offering her a chance complete her seventh year and take her NEWTS, she was ecstatic. She'd feared that she had lost the chance and when the door opened for her to continue her dreams, she leapt at the chance. The shock of finding Harry and Ron uninterested in returning to Hogwarts had eventually worn off and truthfully, she hadn't really blamed them. The war was over and they deserved the chance to move on.

They had both received many job offers over the summer, and after so many challenges, neither boy was tempted by the thought of returning to school. Harry was offered, and took, immediate special entry into Auror Academy. Ron had been offered several decent positions at prominent Wizarding companies but eventually decided on a position as the third string Keeper for the Chudley Cannons. There was never a chance that either of them would have ever turned down their respective offers. It was everything both her boys had hoped for, so there was no longer any reason for them to return to the school of their childhood. They were ready for their futures and she was glad they could move on. Even Ginny had been offered the chance to try out for the Seeker position by the Holyhead Harpies. Indeed, she was so confident in her abilities that she had stubbornly refused to return for her final year at Hogwarts.

A smile stretched across her melancholy face as she remembered Mrs. Weasley's state of panic. The Weasley Matriarch had been in fine form as she spent weeks trying to convince them to reconsider their decisions to give up Hogwarts. The Burrow had been completely unbearable. However, in the end, she'd finally admitted defeat and allowed them to make their own choices. They were all of age and there was nothing she could do. Although, she let them know every moment she could what she thought of their choices. As the summer closed Ron and Harry moved into Grimmauld Place, eager to start their respective careers and escape the relentless Molly Weasley, and Hermione set off for Hogwarts alone.

Alone. There it was again. She laid her head against the cool glass, truly feeling the loss of companionship. She couldn't believe that it was hitting her this hard. What a pathetic pity fest. Sure, no one had seen her off, but it wasn't their fault. Her parents were still unavailable in Australia, memories still modified and completely unaware that they had a daughter. Harry had started the Academy the week before and was too wiped out to get up early enough to see her off and Ron was already at training camp, not to return for three more weeks. Molly and Arthur had offered to see her to the station but she'd politely declined. The idea of dealing with Molly after the fiasco of the boys and Ginny not returning to Hogwarts was not appealing. So, she'd set off alone.

She took a deep breath to steady her emotions, in an effort to hold back the tears. This was the way things would be now. She was going forward and the only way forward was for her to go back. Back to the place of her childhood, the life before the war, and the goals she held before the war. It was a chance to regain the parts of her that had been torn from her through the brutality of war. If she had to do it alone, then she would; perhaps that was the only way it could be done. Alone.

Consoled slightly, by her internal pep talk, she drifted off to sleep. Perhaps the pain would lessen after she'd rested awhile; at least she wouldn't feel so alone the whole trip if she slept through it.

He'd wandered the train as long as he could without looking crazy. He'd have to go into her compartment; there was no other choice. "Damn!" he cursed quietly. "Seriously, why her of all people?" He quietly slid the door to the compartment open.

At least she was asleep, for now. He settled into the corner opposite her, content to share in the small bit of the peace that the room afforded, and closed his eyes.

His mother had had another breakdown this morning. She had been steadily getting worse, but there was nothing more he could do for her, and putting off attending Hogwarts just wasn't an option. Watching her husband be sent to Azkaban had just been too much for her, even if it was only for five years. He knew what a blessing it truly was that it hadn't been longer, but Mother had never done well on her own. With the prospect of him being at school and father being in prison, she'd finally started to give into the grief that had been growing in her heart. Over the last few weeks she'd deteriorated so far that she'd caused several dangerous accidental magic incidences at the Manor. This latest incident had caused all the clothing in his trunk to burst into flames. Thankfully, no one was seriously injured. Part of him knew there was some humour to be seen in the image playing through his mind, his grandfather's old trunk engulfed in pink magical flames as house elves desperately tried to put them out, but humor was not to be found in him today. He'd done his duty and found a committed and trusted French healer to stay with her. She also had her maid to see to her personal needs, and the elves would keep him informed of her condition.

With his father locked up in Azkaban, he had been made the trustee of the family fortune, and he had just been appointed interim CEO of his family's international corporation. The stress of it all was overwhelming. Truthfully, the corporation wouldn't be too much trouble; he'd arranged with the Board of Directors to care for most of the daily business needs while he was away. He'd be able to attend the board meetings when needed. Still, he felt the weight of the responsibility. It was not in his nature to shirk the responsibilities of his family and allowing others to control things over the school year would truly tax his patience. It was frustrating to have made it through the war alive only to find himself overburdened with a complicated family business and a mother in the midst of a mental breakdown.

Where is my peace and happiness? Damn it!

He sighed and shifted in the seat, hands running through his short, blonde hair. No matter, he had a job to do. He was going to finish school, care for his family's business and fortune, and more than anything else, he was going to find a way to restore the honour of his family name.

He'd made his way to London easily enough that morning but had been unprepared for the looks of outrage he encountered on the platform before boarding the train. Sure he was a known Death Eater but he'd been through his own trial and been found innocent of all wrong doing. Not to mention that he'd been an informant for the Order for the last two months of the war. He deserved the chance to move on with his life as much as they did.

On the train it was more of the same, looks of disgust and outrage, as he looked for a compartment to sit in. He'd passed numerous compartments filled with Slytherins but the looks were all the same, equally unwelcoming. He knew that he was tainted and none of his former allies wanted to risk their reputation by associating with him. There was a time when he'd have felt much the same way. To most he was an evil, spoiled, rich kid turned Death Eater who used money to manipulate people to get what he wanted. To others, the Slytherins who had heard the rumours of what he'd done in the war, he was a blood traitor who turned against all of his beliefs. Scorned, with nowhere else to turn, he'd gathered what pride he had left and stole into the compartment. Anything was better than roaming the train looking like an outcast.

He sighed and opened his eyes to look upon the girl sleeping across from him. He found her soothing to look at and her hair fascinating; the curls encircling her face as her pink, bow mouth gently drew small breaths in and out. Though, today there was something different about her face as she slept. It held none of the anger or fire that he'd seen so often there.

He'd always admired the way she never backed down from verbally sparring with him. It was a thrill to see her anger grow unhindered and then crash down on him in sharp, cutting words. Now as he peered at her he saw none of that. She was different. They all were different. That was what war does, changes people, breaks people. As he studied her face he was surprised to find that her face mirrored the feelings in his heart. She appeared sombre and lost. As if, even while sleeping, she could not allow the troubles of her life to leave her. He wondered what could trouble the great Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Princess, so much that even in sleep it disturbed her. She definitely had changed.

Her eyes slowly opened to the scene before her. Expressions flashed across her face as her mind processed the sight of him. He could read the expressions as clearly as he could read a book.

Anger

Confusion

Disbelief

She quickly drew in a sharp breath.

The serious expressions on her face filled the compartment with tension as his stomach soured; perhaps this wasn't such as good idea.

Finally, she settled into a disbelieving stare. She sat silent and still as she considered him. Words seemed to be lost to her in that moment as she could bring no verbal attack to her lips.

He wasn't surprised at her disbelief; he too could appreciate the oddity taking place in the compartment. He was sure he found it more amusing than she though as humour had never been her strong suit. Thankfully, anger had only flashed across her face for a moment; angry Granger was stimulating and fun, but he was most certainly not up to sparring with her right now.

He intently took in the changes that played across her face as the train continued to speed them on toward school. The gentle, bow mouth was now pulled firm, showing her angst; her hands now sat firmly folded in her lap looking absolutely prim and proper. Long ago he'd been taught the art of maintaining poise and grace in uncertainty. It helped him take control in uncertain situations if he could maintain the appearance of a cool head when others could not. She had learned the same it would appear. Though, today it was her eyes that told him the most about her; they sparked with defiance and question. Her brow was slightly furrowed and head tilted. Those were the same eyes that he saw when she was in a heated debate; they were serious but earnest and thoughtful.

Still, she voiced nothing.

His eyes wandered to her hair. It looked so soft; he could feel a slight tingle in his fingers as he pushed down the desire to reach across the compartment and run his fingers through her curls. He slowly started to flush as her intense stare raked over him, the intensity of her gaze and thoughts filling the room with a thickness that made his breath stick in his throat. He could almost hear the thoughts flashing through her brain.

Perhaps I should say something before she goes back to being angry.

But what?

What can I say to her?

Finally, he smirked and asked, "Do you have any idea how loud your thoughts are, Granger?"

She jumped in her seat. Still, her mouth was not quite caught up to the sprinting of her mind. Tired, lonely and now completely shocked at finding herself slightly aroused by the intensity with which his eyes studied her, she was rendered speechless.

No one ever looks at me like that!

This will not do!

Draco Malfoy, bastard extraordinaire, does NOT turn me on.

Irritated that he'd stirred any feeling within her, she pushed them out of her head. Determined, she took a deep breath and stared grimly into the stormy, grey eyes of the man sitting across from her.

Through a tight, firm mouth, she primly said, "Please don't patronize me, Malfoy. I'm not in the mood. If you'd like to sit in this compartment with me, fine. I won't stop you, but please just leave me alone!"

She had spoken the words quickly and quietly, fearing that her voice would crack and the tears would start to fall. She was not sure she could take this. Taking on Malfoy today was just beyond her abilities.

She'd not even considered that he would be returning to Hogwarts.

Of course he returned. Couldn't have things be to easy for me!

Draco Malfoy had always been just behind her marks in class and, although he'd probably never admit it, she suspected he was just as big a bookworm as she. Whatever the case, he really didn't concern her. She just couldn't bring her heart to care or to really even be curious as to what possessed him to sit with her. She closed her eyes and turned her head to the window; resting her cheek on the cool glass, she hoped he'd take the hint and leave her alone.

Draco considered the woman sitting across from him.

She wore a blue, silk blouse and a tan skirt. The blouse and skirt were both of good quality but oddly wrinkled. The blouse itself was slightly un-tucked. She looked as if she had planned to look nice, but in the end had failed utterly for some reason. Like she knew what it took to look nice but couldn't bring herself to take the final step to complete the task today. Her hair, on the other hand, was a phenomenon of its own; it always was. Today he found it uncharacteristically wild and frizzy as it encircled her face; it wasn't a bad effect really. Her skin was a pure ivory and her hair provided a gentle glow around her, giving an angelic aura to her repose. There was a difference in her though; she was sad and broken. He could see the emotions bubbling just below the surface as she grasped to maintain control. There was an uncharacteristic weakness to her reply. Especially when considering the plea for respect she'd added at the end. Never before would she have asked it of him.

Without really understanding why, he found his heart soften towards her. He may not like her, well not a lot anyway, and he certainly couldn't understand her; but he knew sadness. The pain and sorrow were so evident on her face; he knew what lurked in her heart. He shared the same pain in his own. He would leave her alone for the rest of the trip. Once again, his eyes closed and he left her to her thoughts and sadness.

"Shite," he muttered. They'd both fallen asleep. They were going to be there soon and she was still asleep. She needed to put her robes on before leaving the train.

"Granger."

"Granger!"

She felt someone shaking her arm.

"Granger," she heard, as someone squeezed her shoulder and shook her again.

"Granger, wake up! We'll be there in just a minute; you need to get into your robes!"

Hermione opened her eyes, groggily.

Where am I?

It took her a moment to focus as her reality of her pity fest filled day rushed back to her, hitting full force.

She felt him standing over her, his head bent down, eyes filled with what appeared to be sincere concern.

He'd woke me up?

Why in the world would he do that?

Why is he so close?

She could smell him; the scent was all around her, spicy and clean. The heat of his body radiated out toward her as still hazy eyes stared at the pale neck before her.

Still, he did not back away.

Her hair is so close. Without knowing he did so, he lowered his face to her hair and took in her scent; vanilla and cinnamon.

She felt a heat come to her cheeks. Draco Malfoy just smelled her hair. His breath fluttered across her neck as heat and desire filled them both.

The closeness was intoxicating. His mind told him to back away, but his body refused, over powered by more enticing desires.

She noticed that his hands were placed just above each of her shoulders, probably done innocently enough to steady himself from the movement of the train. However, he was encompassing her entire view and overwhelming her completely. Entranced, his spicy scent over took all thought.

She looked up into his eyes, and her pink, bow shaped mouth called to him.

Without a thought, he lowered his mouth toward hers.

Suddenly, the train shook roughly to the left and jarred them soundly. Startled, their eyes came back into focus, and rational thought found itself back in control.

The spell broken, he quickly backed away and sat down, looking and feeling very confused. He felt the loss of heat and scent as the desire settled into a dull ache deep inside.

This can't be happening.

Actually, neither of them was altogether sure what had really happened to begin with. Had they truly almost kissed?

Malfoy noticed that although she was truly flustered, Hermione didn't really appear to be all that miffed about it. He was, however, sure of one thing; if he had stayed that close for a second longer, he would have kissed her.

She watched as his gaze went from her to the trunk resting on the shelf above her.

"Robes?"

"Oh, right. Thank you," she said quietly.

She stood up and pulled out a small, purple handbag from her trunk. Reaching into the tiny bag, she pulled out her crumpled school robes. Without a word, Hermione tapped the robes with her wand and the fabric smoothed.

Why on earth didn't she do that earlier?

Quickly, she pulled her school robes over her clothes and sat back down. Affecting the outward appearance of poise and control, she squared her shoulders and primly folded her hands on her lap. Purposefully, she began to control her breathing while she considered the man across from her.

Wait, man? What? Well, she had to admit, to herself at least, that he certainly wasn't the boy who had taunted her since they were eleven.

Just as the train started to slow, she asked, "Why in here with me?"

He sighed as he stood up, once again towering over her as he slowly walked to the compartment door. He looked down at his feet and then, with a sincerity she had never heard from him before, he said, "There was nowhere else, Hermione."

She considered his words. "Why not with the other Slytherins, Draco?"

"As I said, there was nowhere else."

"Oh," she mumbled, feeling even more confused as he left the compartment.

What does he mean there was nowhere else?

As the train finally stopped Hermione tried to push the odd encounter with Draco from her thoughts, failing miserably. She gathered her purple bag; leaving her trunk for the elves to take and she made her way off the train. As she made her way to the carriages waiting to take them up the castle she was struck by one final thought, Well, at least I wasn't alone.