Hermione had never felt uneasy when returning to Hogwarts. In fact she had always felt very at ease, ready to embrace the year by striding with purpose through the gangling crowds of teenagers unloading from the steaming express. Yes she never expected to be returning for the eighth year in a row but it was the comfort she sought, the familiarity, and Hogwarts could certainly give her that. Nevertheless, this time she remained in her cabin, certain she would leave the train but she wanted to go alone. Alone was something she needed to get used to and she could think of no better time to start practising. She allowed the rest of the school to make their bustling departure along the well travelled track and made sure that the last of the boats had left the lakeside before hopping off of the train herself. She had no doubt that this time she would be able to see the Thestrals towing the carriages.
Hermione rushed into the great hall dishevelled by her own lateness. Punctuality had always been her strong point but so was striding with purpose and that didn't exactly excel itself earlier. However as soon as she stepped through those ancient doors she became instantly baffled. She had been perfectly sound with the knowledge that both Ron and Harry would begin their Auror training rather than return to Hogwarts and she couldn't blame them. After all that happened during the war, Harry would not be able to find any peace here. Ron on the other hand she knew was never an academic, his raw talent for anything hands on could not be glorified in school for anything past Quidditch. Being an Auror suited them both, if anything Hermione was the slightest bit grateful that she wouldn't be seeing Ron every day. Of course she still loved him, him and Harry are her dearest friends, but it was her who broke off the beginning of their relationship before it got anything close to serious.
Them getting together seemed like the perfect idea at the time. Both of them needed that intimacy to survive the preliminary stages of healing after the war was over. It wasn't that Hermione didn't fancy him, she really did, it was just that she only fancied him. What she thought might have been love when they got together was merely the revamp of teenage infatuation she felt in fourth year. She couldn't bare to tell him at first. Ron was completely smitten. She had even considered playing along for as long as she could in the hope that something would spark in that time, but that would be too cruel. As a friend she couldn't do that, she would be essentially lying to Ron, leading him on with the same conclusion at the end of it all. Her love for him was and always will be strictly plutonic and it didn't take long for her to realise that. Part of that realisation came from the lack of anything she felt during sex. It wasn't as if he was bad at it - and Hermione knew she certainly wasn't! They were just bad at it together, from her perspective at least. Her numerous shags with Viktor a few summers ago were the perfect time to experiment and learn how she could excel in the bedroom as much as she could in her academic subjects. Hopefully this break from seeing Ron would ease tensions between them. They didn't exactly fight, but any time they had seen each other since they had broken things off had been incredibly awkward. Perhaps a little time would help their friendship go back to what it was.
Hermione examined the great hall, dinner already in full swing, searching for somewhere socially acceptable for her to sit. She was on speaking terms with some of the year below who were friends with Ginny but her fiery red hair was masked by the Gryffindor colours shrouding the manic meal time. Just as she was debating walking over to the Ravenclaw table to find Luna, her favourite professor emerged in front of her.
"May I be of any assistance Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked, appearing genuinely concerned for the wellbeing of the stress ridden girl in front of her.
"Oh no i'm… uh well yes actually… the thing is, i'm on my own this year and usually i'd just go with Harry and Ron and sit wherever but I can't even see anyone in my year at the moment. Oh Merlin, I sound like such a child, afraid to sit with the wrong people." Hermione blurted in the most undignified manner she could ever dream of. Flushed with embarrassment she weekly shrugged her shoulders foolishly hoping that McGonagall would seat her somewhere suitable.
"The fact is Hermione, that I have been waiting for you so that I can take you to dine with the rest of the eighth years. You see as this year will be different, there is a lot I need to explain to you all, and if like me you desire to go to sleep at a reasonable hour, that involves skipping the feast." The headmistress smiled knowingly and ushered Hermione to follow her from the hall.
Grateful for her rescue and still burning with feverish embarrassment, Hermione followed the headmistress out of the hall and surprisingly into the grounds.
"I hope this year will be what you need Hermione." McGonagall addressed, adopting a more serious tone. "Watching the first years pile into the great hall once again was better than any potions i've taken to calm my nerves. To watch a place associated with such horror bounce back with all the hope left in the world is the best medicine. I anticipate that in time it will have the same effect on you." The headmistress smiled as if she had been told the most wonderful secret there was. Hermione could merely nod tentatively. She had managed to convince herself that this year back at Hogwarts would heal her wounds inflicted by the war but couldn't get over the growing doubt that it wouldn't be possible. Too lost in her thoughts/self loathing, Hermione barely noticed McGonagall gesturing to a lone tower connected only to the castle by a single walkway, mirroring the likeness of the Covered Bridge but thinner. It was three floors high and had a turret with what appeared to be glass panelling on one side. The tower backed onto the Black Lake and Hermione could see a wooden jetty with a small sailboat moored beside it.
"This is the new accommodation?" Hermione asked, surprised that she hadn't clocked the new three story limb adorning the castle.
"Yes!" McGonagall exclaimed excitedly. "It's no architectural genius but the governors insisted that it wouldn't stand out. Lucius Malfoy even insisted that the stones were to be aged to look the same as the rest of the castle! The nerve that man has considering all he has done!" She blurted rather unprofessionally. "I'm sorry," she added. "It's just that I wanted it to be a little different. Something new, better even. The way I see it, there's no point pretending everything is the same when hardly any of us feel that way. I wanted to make something positive out of that." She paused before opening the door, putting her mask back on that she need never wear with Hermione.
"Wait, if Lucius is still a governor then that means-" Hermione began but McGonagall had already started opening the door and the noise of chatter drowned both their ears. Hermione was once again lost in a blur her eyes taking time to adjust to the room she was walking into but they didn't take long to find the piercing white blonde hair of Draco Malfoy. To her dismay his eyes instantly locked on hers but he seemed like he had been caught off guard. However whichever fleeting emotion that was it soon dissolved only to be replaced with a slightly more fragile rendition of that signature smirk. Hermione tore her eyes off him. How dare he smirk at her! And before she had time to thoroughly question what reason he could possibly have for giving her that look she remembered every granular detail.
Two months earlier
After taking the lengthy walk from her apartment down to the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione was positively gagging for a drink. She had just completed her most procrastinated task of ending things with Ron and needed to lose her senses to forget the wounded look on his face when he said so. Of course he was so Ron about it all, he said although he didn't agree he wouldn't fight her on it and that he won't try to hold her back. It would have been easier if things had gone sour and she had left after a fight, somehow proving that they could never work together. Instead she felt enormous guilt. It was better in the long run, this way would leave them with a salvageable friendship. No matter how much she told herself this, the guilt remained. She pressed on towards the bar and promptly ordered Firewhisky. Not her usual in the slightest but she needed something quick and dangerous enough for her to lose herself. After the fifth she was significantly out of it and started eyeing up the bar. Honestly, this sort of behavior from Hermione Granger was completely out of character. Yes she wasn't one of those chaste virginal girls but she wasn't a complete slut either. However this liberation from Ron - or the Firewhisky - was making her want to lose herself with another. She wanted to feel desired because she was desired! Not because she had been learned to be loved over a number of years. Hermione began to size up those around her before quickly reaching the conclusion that she was being completely foolish. The only people who came to the local on a Thursday evening were drunkards or people even more desperate than she was! Just as she was contemplating paying a visit to a muggle nightclub, the door swung precariously on it's hinges and she felt compelled to look. Oh she did not need this, a humiliating visit from Draco sodding Malfoy. Hermione turned her head in the other direction hoping that somehow he would manage to miss her untamed bush of hair dominating three seats of it's own at the bar. She didn't need to look to know that he was striding straight for her.
"Is it? No! It can't be!" Malfoy exclaimed, the sarcasm dripping from his mouth. "Hermione Granger spending her evening at the leaky! Believe me the pleasure is all mine." He sat down next to her, incredibly pleased with his discovery.
"I could ask you the same question Malfoy." She spat with venom, whilst concentrating not to slur. "Surely this place is beneath you in numerous ways." Hermione tried to match his childish sarcasm but it was a pitiful drunken attempt and they both knew it.
"Oh dear, we are in quite a state aren't we. You're practically half Firewhisky at this point." He beamed, waiting to irk a response out of the frazzled witch in front of him.
"Malfoy please, i'm really not in the mood for this." She announced with some composure.
"Please? Oh Merlin, I can tell, it's the weasel you're so hung up over isn't it." He declared without a hint of sensitivity, or doubt in himself.
"Don't call him that and how could you possibly-" She was cut off by Malfoy loudly ordering Firewhisky for them both.
"I want you to tell me all." He commanded, sliding her drink towards her.
"And what reason would I have to do that?" Hermione challenged, sounding borderline insulted.
"Because you can't tell Harry as he's Ron's friend too and won't take sides, and because you can't tell Ginny as she's his sister!"
This was all typical Malfoy. Manipulating any weakness towards his personal gain. She knew she was drunk and that telling Malfoy anything would be a guaranteed mistake but even though he wasn't, he was right. Hermione sighed deeply and began speaking before she had time to think it over any further.
"You can't tell anyone, and I mean that Malfoy." He nodded profusely attempting to appear as if he was taking this seriously. "In fact if I wasn't so squiffy i'd insist on an unbreakable vow." Malfoy chuckled at this, he actually chuckled. Perhaps a drunken Hermione Granger wasn't as intimidating as she hoped she might be.
Present day
Once Hermione had ripped her eyes from Malfoy's. She began to examine the room she had entered. The ground floor appeared to have the likeness of the Gryffindor common room yet a little larger as there would be more than one house using it. She noted how it was decorated with the Hogwarts crest rather than in any house colours. The sofas were brown leather and the room is adorned in stone and dark wood, subsequently showing no preference to any of the houses. She was amused at how silly it seemed completely cutting out any colour associated with a house - they are fully grown adults after all and the decoration needn't suffer for petty house rivalry.
Draco scoffed at how enthralled Hermione appeared to be in the adornment of the common room. If anything, he thought it was lacking a significant amount of green. Since the majority of those returning were Slytherin (since they won't be taken anywhere else) they might as well have made an effort with the colour scheme.
"Right, gather round everybody!" The headmistress announced, clapping her hands. The group assembled in a rough semicircle around the centre where McGonagall stood.
"As you are all well aware this year will be a little different regarding your place in the school and your privileges. Let me make it clear now that I have been generous and therefore these allowances are not to be abused. Any irresponsible use of such privileges will result in them being swiftly removed. Is that understood?" This question was greeted with some tentative nodding and the occasional murmur of agreement.
"Good. Well firstly you do not have a curfew, but that exception from curfew is limited to this building only. Any disturbance of the curfew enforced throughout the rest of the school will be dealt with severely. Secondly you may leave the grounds in your spare time without permission as long as it does not contradict curfew. Alcohol is not permitted on the school grounds. I cannot stop you from indulging in the pubs as you are legally permitted, but I can stop you from drinking at school. The girls rooms are upstairs and the boys downstairs, don't make me have to remind you that you stay separate. Any questions?" This was met with only a few exchanged whispers let down at the prospect at remaining sober at school and a handful of sniggers from the more red blooded members of the group.
"Well then, I shall leave you to it." She declared, waving to the dining table filled with the same food prepared for those in the great hall. "There will be a neutral table placed in the great hall for your use only, but there will always be food here. I wish you all a good final year." And with a final smile the headmistress left, leaving a very strained group of students to their meal.
The houses factioned off instantly, the Slytherins at one end, Gryffindor at the other, with a barrier of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff between them both.
"I hate this." Theodore Nott announced to the Slytherins. "The war is over, the war we never wanted anyway - except you Blaise, sorry mate."
"Hey, you know I didn't want it by the end. Merlin not even by the middle." Blaise sighed and took a swig from the hip flask he carried in his jacket pocket.
"That's the third time you've sipped from that in the last hour mate." Theo noted.
"How do you know that, you fancy me or something?" Blaise joked weakly, but the attention was not averted from him. "I just don't like how they don't treat us like people." He stated pointing to the other end of the table. "Yeah we fucked up, but what else could we do? You both know how it is to be in that environment, where anything less than self preservation would mean the end of you and your family." Blaise swiftly took another swig from his flask.
"If we don't like it we do something about it." Draco suggested.
"Well what?" Asked Blaise, unperturbed.
"This should be interesting." Draco announced mysteriously before sauntering downstairs into the basement where his bedroom was situated.
Blaise and Theo watched bemused as Draco sauntered downstairs to the basement where his room was situated.
The Slytherins had not long resumed conversation when Draco meandered back round to the table carrying two bottles of what must be extremely expensive Firewhisky that he had pinched off of his father.
"May I have your attention fellow peers!" He addressed, performing what could only be described as a half bow.
"This better be good." Mumbled another at the table, most likely from the adopted Gryffindor end.
"Oh it shall." Draco began. "As you are undoubtedly aware we return this year to be not exactly the greatest of friends. And, as were have to live together, study together, see each other every day… I thought it best if we each say our piece now and get it all over with, rather than harbouring bitterness for the sake of it." He then set the Firewhisky on the table and scourgified everyone's glasses as dramatically as he could.
"Malfoy, this is ridiculous." Hermione blurted. "You can't seriously think we'd trust anything you try to defend yourself with?" She accused.
"Ah but that's where you are wrong dearest Granger. This isn't any ordinary Firewhisky. Tell me, does it look ordinary to you?" He asked, looking directly at Hermione.
"Not exactly." She replied stoutly. The liquid had a slight purple haze surrounding it and would most likely be missed by anyone not expecting to find an enchantment inside.
"Correct. Ten points to the clever witch in Gryffindor." Draco patronisingly dictated. Hermione flushed with embarrassment when the Slytherins laughed coldly. "This Firewhisky is usually in the spirits cabinet in my father's study. It is laced with Veritaserum so that whenever anyone from the ministry were to meet with my father, he could offer them a drink and learn their secrets." He smiled mischievously, pouring the first glass. "However it has fallen into my possession as my father is unavailable of late." The mischievous smile disappeared instantly, his face momentarily hardening to stone. A solemn silence followed which, indisputably could only be broken by one person.
"Maybe we should give it a go everyone." Neville decided, speaking to the rest of the table. "How can we criticise them for events we only know the half of. Now i'm not saying they're blameless. I just want to know." He went over to Draco and took the full glass from him. "If you'll be honest, I will be too." He declared and promptly downed the whole glass.
"Good man Neville." Draco congratulated, beginning to pour the second drink.
"I'm still not sure that I want to drink anything brewed by a Malfoy." Hermione stated stubbornly, crossing her arms in a huff.
"Oh come on Granger, I know how much you love a bit of Firewhisky." He beamed, holding out the glass to her. Hermione took it and downed it in only a few seconds, she could not risk him talking about their late night encounter any further.
Following the lead of Neville and Hermione, the rest of the table complied and took their drinks until Draco was the last person with a glass in hand.
"Let the truth begin." He toasted, throwing back the bitter liquid.