I Wrote this in 2005, but started rewriting it now. It's been published here under my old penname. Man, I've been writing fanfiction forrreverrr! haha

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Chapter 1: Old Feelings Renewed

Harry was walking with Ron towards the Hogwarts Express Train when he heard the all too well-known voice he often heard in his sleep. "Harry!" came Hermione's voice. Harry looked over his shoulder to find her with a smile so wide and brilliant like the sun. She rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him in such a tight hug he was sure had cracked one or two of his ribs.

"Hermione, come on," he moaned, trying to get away from her form in front of him, and trying to not concentrate too much on the softness of her white cowl neck sweater. Or the fact that she seemed to of shrunk this year to fit nicely against him. He wasn't sure why but he found himself thinking he never wanted her to let go. He dismissed this feeling rather quickly, chucking it up to the fact that he hadn't seen her all summer. She was still smiling and looked great, as if this past summer had been great to her. He was very glad that they were going to soon board the train together, towards their final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Oh, hey Ron." She smiled as if she hadn't seen him standing next to Harry. He watched her blink and make her way to their other best friend and give him another hug like the one she had given Harry.

"Hermione we need to get on the train," Ron said, urging them forward. Hermione quickly let go of them and went to pick up her bag; She had dropped it earlier when she saw Harry's back, and at the sight of the best friend she dearly missed, she had only squealed in delight before running to him.

"Oh yes...er...yeah," she said as she tried to pick up her trunk, but utterly failed and settled on pushing it instead.

"Here…Let me take that...Ron?" Harry said to Hermione and motioned for Ron to help him with the luggage after Hermione gave Harry a sweet smile for his kind offer. She picked up Crookshanks and walked in the train before them.

"I can't. I'm taking Ginny's," Ron answered Harry. "Hers is stuffed with so many clothes you could barely get it out the door. Dad had to use magic to be able to get it outside the door," he said, and as he picked up his sister's trunk he made a face that simply said he thought Ginny was insane.

Hermione had gone to find a compartment for the trio. Harry effortlessly picked up her trunk and followed behind her. He thought it would be heavier, probably packed with huge thick books, but it really wasn't.

"Come. In here," Hermione's soft voice beckoned from the doorway of one of the last compartments in the train. Harry walked in and went to put the trunk away.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked Harry, still standing by the doorway as if expecting their redhead friend to walk in at any moment.

"He went to take Ginny's trunk to her," he answered back.

"Oh," was all she said before coming to stand straight in front of him once more. "Harry, it's so great to see you again. I hope you've been well," Hermione said, twinkling jewels in her eyes as she looked up at him. He nodded, not trusting his voice. She smiled. He looked a little older, and much taller, and a little tired, too. He had very slight stubble as if like every other beginning of term the Weasleys' and Harry had been in a hurry to get to the train on time, and he hadn't had the time to shave. She once again hugged him, though not as hard. It was definitely a softer hug meant to be witnessed intimately only by those involved. And again Harry felt the same feeling he had felt earlier when she hugged him on the station. He gave her a gentle squeeze, which she returned. He could not believe these feelings that coursed through his body…The ease she gave him. It was an incredible feeling. Feeling powerful and on top of everything. He inched back a bit to look at her and found she was wearing her trademark innocent smile. Her eyes were so bright; the darkness of the universe could easily be lit without the help of stars or the sun. He couldn't believe he was experiencing all this, it was so frightening, this intensity.

When they let go of each other, Hermione opened her bag and got out a book to read. Harry glimpsed the title. Mansfield Park. He had no idea what it was about. She sat on the corner of the seat and looked at the window for a moment before settling to read. She looked comfortable and Harry was glad she was kept occupied. He was blushing madly and hardly even knew why. She crossed her legs and put her book open on her lap just as Ron was coming in.

"Another bloody book," he teased her as he made his way to sit next to Harry after sliding the door closed.

"Ron I'm glad that you waste no time in being yourself," she snapped at him.

"I could very well gladly say the same thing to you," he teased again. Harry said nothing, just forced a slight grin. Ron shrugged and reached in his bag for his Quidditch notes and booklet.

Harry was no doubt lost in thought about their fairer friend sitting across from him. She's different, he thought dumbly. He was trying hard to pinpoint the exact difference. It wasn't her hair – that had changed the year before. It was still bushy, but only slightly as she had grown it out halfway down her back and the weight of it had decreased most of the bushiness. No, it wasn't her hair, which was still a long mess of brown curls. She didn't particularly look older after the long summer without seeing her. No, her exterior wasn't much different. Harry noticed that not even her clothes were new, only her small grey boots were. He couldn't really figure it out. Perhaps there was something off in her gaze. Not off in a strange way, just different. Maybe more wiser, but that was to be expected after the hardship of pulling Harry and Ron and the rest of the world, but mostly Harry, through the War that had finally ended last June. Even he was sure that had some damage on how he held himself with others.

Enough of this, he was going to go mad if he kept thinking about what had happened before the summer. He could hardly blame Hermione for tearing herself away from her friends for those couple of months. Of course she would want to spend more time with her parents, not having seen much of them throughout the years before. Hell, he was sure that if he had family to turn to instead of friends for a while, he was sure he would do it, too.

Harry sighed, noticing her skin glow warmly. Where ever she had gone there had definitely been sun. He thought he could remember, somewhat faintly, that she had been talking once about traveling in the summer should the Wizarding world survive. Perhaps the south of France? Or Italy? He wasn't sure. He'd have to ask her later. But not now. For now he enjoyed the silence and watched her from afar as she scratched behind Crookshanks ears. There were honeyed highlights in her hair, again the product of a lot of sun, and there was a dusting of freckles across her nose that stood out more often than usual. She had definitely gone somewhere sunny. He wondered if her parents had enjoyed themselves as much as she seemed to of.

Suddenly she made to get up, startling Harry out of his reverie as she made her way to the compartment door. "Where are you going?" Harry asked, trying hard to not sound petulant. He winced internally, hoping he hadn't sounded whiny.

"It's getting a bit stuffy in here. I'm going to the loo." she grinned in a reassuring kind of way before sliding the door shut.

"You know if you keep staring, she'll know, but I guess that would be a good thing, eh?" Ron's voice came in a hushed whisper as if Hermione was still there, but to Harry it sounded so far away and distant. Although Ron had managed to say something that definitely cut into his thoughts. Harry jerked his head to the right in surprise facing Ron.

"Er?"

"I said if you keep staring your eyes will pop out and she will definitely know," Ron said to Harry with a furtive look on his eyes.

"Know what?" he asked, somewhat surprised because he never told anyone anything about what he felt, if it was anything other than platonic love for Hermione. In fact he had just started to feel such things. He had just started dwelling on it after she had left for the summer. He hoped he hadn't been exceedingly obvious in observing Hermione, but chances were that, if Ron noticed, he probably was. Or maybe Ron had grown a little more perceptive. Harry doubted it; Ron was lovable but really dense in seeing, much less reading body language.

Ron sighed at Harry's question thinking it was a pretty stupid and decided to move on. "Let's duel before she comes back!" Ron said with a devilish grin creeping through his strong jaw. Harry grinned back at him and nodded, quickly forgetting everything he had been thinking.

They started off throwing silly ones that made you feel like you were being tickled until you fell to the floor rolling over in laughter, or some a bit more immature and dangerous that made your legs or arms jerk violently in different directions, and the humiliating one that made your nose swell to five times its normal size.

Harry and Ron had their fun while the well-known smirk of Draco Malfoy greeted Hermione on her way back to her friends.

"What do you want Malfoy?" spat Hermione with a little more venom than she intended.

"No need to be so rude...mudblood," he said eyeing her with his notorious coldness.

"Whatever. I've no time for you right now." Hermione moved to walk away from him, but within the few steps she took, Malfoy pulled her back to him by her hair causing her to whimper from the pain.

He pulled her close to him, way too close for Hermione's liking, breathing in her scent before he spoke, still clutching some hair on the back of her head with his fist.

"Listen, mudblood, you do not talk to me that way and you do not walk away from me when I speak to yo," he threw at her venomously looking her straight in the eye. He gripped her wrists hard with his right hand and pressed them to her back. She could feel the goose bumps down her back from the fear only a Death Eater in close proximity could cause. Hermione could feel the pressure of his fingers on her bony wrists, which she didn't doubt would be a light colour of purple later. Nevertheless she wouldn't allow Malfoy to make her feel inferior to anything or anyone, and she made certain her glare told him that. He in return sneered and gave her hair another yank that stretched her neck further up to meet his steely gaze.

"You have to be careful you know," he said in a mock warning tone, caressing her soft cheek with his ice-cold thumb, which once again caused her to exhale in disgust and shiver with goose bumps. He muttered something she couldn't quite hear. She mentally kicked herself for the whimper, knowing it would only make her look weak, which she by nature was always strong. Draco Malfoy knew this about her and as he saw fear in her eyes he knew that fear didn't come to her for just anything. He just stared at her with his piercing stony grey eyes, basking in the knowledge of knowing that she was scared. "You may be considered wanking material by the Hogwarts male population, and you may be hailed by the Wizarding world for helping the boy-who-lived 'save' us all, but you're still tainted blood...a mudblood." He smirked again and at these words Hermione glared at him even harder and yanked her wrists out of his strong hold.

"Why Dumbledore let you come back a free man is beyond me, Malfoy. And I may always be a mudblood, but you will definitely always be considered a Death Eater." Hermione grinned maliciously. "Guess which one is most frowned upon by the rest of the world." She left him with a face ready to spit fire, and that alone would make the rest of her week.

All of a sudden the door slid open and something thick shot out at her and collided with her stomach in a painful thump knocking the air out of her making her gasp loudly and fall backwards against the wall, staggering to the ground.

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