Looking out of the dusty window of the train that hot summer's afternoon, Draco Malfoy certainly felt none of the joy of the students in the cabins next door. For him coming back to Hogwarts for another year as a teacher was just another reminder that he had been here three years; three torturous years of tutoring the mindless crowd below in the art of potions, of correcting their hastily scribbled essays, and of being confined within those seemingly endless grey walls. And, of course, having to take the same train as those loathsome students was yet another reminder of that enormous fortune that was rightfully his, but that was now in the hands of the muggle loving ministry. Draco hissed in anger and disgust at the thought, but some part of him deep down felt achingly sad.

Sometimes he wondered if he'd rather be dead like the rest of them. His father, his mother, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy… Most of the last Death Eaters had been friends made within these very wretched walls. Now it was just him, the last of his kind, vouched for by Dumbledore for saving Harry Potter's skin when he could have turned him in to the Dark Lord. He wondered again why he had done it, then he remembered, as always, that it had been because of her. She had looked at him so despairingly as he and a whole ring of Death Eaters had descended upon the Order of the Phoenix, massacring the ridiculously outnumbered group. The mudblood had fought hard, yes she had. He still remembered her in battle, hair flying, eyes burning with an intensity he had never seen in her before. It was those eyes, he thought, those eyes that had stilled the hand that he had risen to perform the killing curse. The sudden despair and strange disappointment he had seen had stopped him right in his tracks, making him lower his wand, sneer and stride off… And later, when the rest of the Ministry of Magic forces had arrived, they had been the ones to suffer. Death Eaters were cut down mercilessly, all except for him. She, that cursed witch, she had cried out before the auror had raised his wand to kill him. "He saved my life!" she had cried. He remembered it all distinctly. Her shrill scream and her wide, feverish eyes. And later, when the trials were held she and Dumbledore had vouched for him, forcing him to suffer under the humiliation of defeat by coming back to a past he had tried to put behind him. To Hogwarts.

"Professor Malfoy?" asked someone quietly. He snapped out of his memories in time to give the witch who served meals a quick smile. "I'll have two cauldron cakes, if you will," he said, and reached into his robes for some change. He bought the cakes, ate them and then settled into a light and uneasy sleep until the train reached the gates of Hogwarts.

"Won't this be exciting, Harry?" asked Hermione as they raced past the countryside in his brand new Ministry provided car. He was an auror, and had certain privileges, which included driving his best friend to work. "Won't it?"

"I suppose," he said dubiously, recalling his days at Hogwarts and wondering why anyone would be so excited at the prospect of meeting students like themselves. But Hermione looked perfectly pleased, and he couldn't help but share some of her enthusiasm. She was going to teach Transfiguration, since McGonagall had retired and Dumbledore had sent her an invitation. "It'll be so fun," she said happily. "I'd love to teach them some of the craziest spells we never got to learn in class." And, going along in this train, she talked the next hour through.

When they finally pulled into the driveway, past those magnificent gates and the great lake, she hugged Harry, waved goodbye, and levitated her suitcase all the way up to the castle.

Draco made his way dismally up the stairs, hurrying so that he would arrive before that pestilential bunch of chattering students. He moved so quickly that he didn't realise that something big, black and bulky was making its way right in his direction and ran straight into it.

Thump.

Furious, Draco blinked stars out of his eyes and scrambled to his feet, disgusted at being knocked off his feet in such an ungraceful manner. A suitcase was levitating just before his nose and a few feet behind it stood a shocked young woman. A very familiar young woman, at that. He was about to glare when she apologized frenziedly.

"Oh! I'm terribly sorry, I really didn't mean to do that! You see, it's my first year here and I thought no one'd be around since the students are still crossing the lake and…" She faltered, realising that he was now staring at her, frozen in what looked like shock.

For he had realised who it was. Granger, he thought wildly, Granger. She was at Hogwarts too. What was she doing here? She was a teacher too. Of course. Last year Dumbledore had announced that McGonagall was retiring. But her of all people, he thought, and spat angrily. It had been humiliating enough that he had spared her life three years ago, even worse that she had haunted his dreams and his very existance up till now, and now the final blow, the very worst of all, was that she had come to haunt his life personally. Mind reeling with shock, horror and anger at Dumbledore, he turned on his heel and strode furiously towards the staff common room.

Hermione gasped as she realised who was the man behind those cruel grey eyes the moment he turned on his heel. That sleek blond hair, the pale, pointed face… Draco Malfoy, she thought, and she began to tremble. Three years ago she had held just contemptuous disgust at him and his spineless pureblood centric ways. But then she had been proven wrong when he had spared her the moment when she was most vulnerable. Even when he probably knew what it would cost him in the end. She began to shake violently and the suitcase hanging motionlessly in the air crashed to the ground. The sound reverberated throughout the empty hall, echoing painfully. She began to sob, all her aspirations of changing the lives of young students for the better forgotten.

Suddenly she heard the echoing footstepsof a teacher striding down the passageway, probably to greet the arriving students. Quickly, she wiped her tears, picked up her suitcase and hurried down another passage for fear of being seen in such a state.