Hermione sat and stared out of the train window. Trees blurred as they passed, interrupted only by the occasional town or lonely cabin nestled in the hills. How could it all be so calm, so normal, as if the tumult of her recent life had never happened? Voldemort had walked this area just recently and friends had died defending it. How could there not be blood on the ground, when their screams still echoed in her head? Echoed… - with a mental shake she shifted her attention to her hands as she practiced the breathing exercises her therapist, Susan, had taught her. You can't think about it she admonished herself, it does you no good. Be glad you are alive. Be glad the good side won and that so many you knew and loved are still alive. Take each day as it is. Don't think about it. It was a familiar mantra and though it didn't do much good she kept repeating it, hoping that maybe someday it would have some effect.

The compartment door slid open and Hermione jerked in its direction, her muscles tensed for action. She couldn't help herself, her fight reflex had never quite left, her body didn't believe her mind that there was peace. She smiled as she slowly forced herself to relax into her seat, allowing Ginny to settle in across from her.

"Hey" Ginny greeted her quietly. Ever since the death of her brother and the suicide of Ron, Ginny had become silent. She was dealing, but it would take years.

"Hi," Hermione acknowledged.

She stared once more at her fingernails; she didn't know what to say. She couldn't ask how Ginny was; the answer was obvious, not wonderful. She couldn't ask about the last month after Ron's funeral, why would Ginny want to discuss her mourning period? But she couldn't just leave it at that. It was going to be a very awkward school year if they couldn't even talk to one another. Just stick to the present, Hermione reminded herself. Just like Susan told you, think about where you are now and where you're going. Don't look back. Not alone, not yet.

"So…what classes did you sign up for?" Hermione finally asked. Class registration had been very late this year. Classes hadn't even been announced until a week ago, so Hermione hadn't been able to discuss them with her friends yet. They still didn't know where they'd be sleeping. Everything was going to be different at Hogwarts this year.

"Oh. Well, herbology, advanced potions, and defense against the dark arts. I figured three classes would be a good start." Ginny said, "You?"

"Advanced potions and defense, like you, and history of the wizarding world from medieval times until Prime Minister Pinker. Plus, advanced transfiguration and charms," Hermione answered.

"So, five classes," Ginny paused and looked down before whispering "I don't think I can take more than three. Not like you. I still need all these breaks during the day. And I can't concentrate for long periods of time, so I figure homework will take me forever."

Hermione moved across to sit beside her friend and laid an arm around Ginny. "I understand. My mind keeps drifting…bad memories," she confided. Ginny smiled sadly and shifted her eyes from the floor up to the ceiling.

"And the good," she sighed "the good hurts most of all."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed. "Yeah." And so they sat there, neither one looking at the other, but both desiring the support the other's presence offered.

After a time, the lull of the tracks put Ginny to sleep against Hermione's shoulder. Staring absently at the red hair curling under Ginny's chin and escaping from the ponytail, she sighed heavily. How she wished she were beautiful like Ginny Weasley. Ginny was this tall, thin thing with crazy hair and piercing eyes that attracted all guys within the area. And she had found Harry, by whom she was completely adored. Hermione meanwhile was short, with thighs, a stomach and frizzy hair; someone who could be defined as 'cute' but nothing more. And she definitely didn't have anyone who loved her. She pinched her belly to assess how much fat lay within, only to quickly release it as once more the door slid open.

Blonde hair.

Hermione reflexively shifted to place herself more completely between her sleeping friend and the door as Draco Malfoy entered. She knew he was supposedly safe. Malfoy had been forgiven by the returning Dumbledore himself and had even become a spy for their side after his attempted murder of the headmaster had filled him with too much guilt and self-disgust. And yet, when she saw him, all she could think about were dark places full of pain, fear, and screams. Of the house with his aunt where her own torture had been the worst and the murky rooms in which she had to hide while hunting for horcruxes and deatheaters.

Malfoy had frozen just within the room as the door slid shut with a small clack. An uncertain look had entered his eye but as he shifted a hard glint replaced it.

"Right" he muttered quietly. "Well, this is definitely not the place for me." He glanced towards the sleeping Ginny next to Hermione. "How's the Weasley?"

"Why?" Hermione asked him with suspicion. The minute she sensed any need for self defense she immediately set up protective barriers and became meaner and blunter. And besides, what did Malfoy want with Ginny?

Malfoy sighed before locking eyes with Hermione, as if willing her to believe him. "Look Granger, I know it's not easy to believe but I'm not the same guy. I get that you can't forgive me, but at least believe Dumbledore and stop acting like I'm about to kill you all. I just really want to know, I heard about all her losses."

"It's not like others haven't lost loved ones as well. You ever ask them?" Hermione snapped. The look of hurt that briefly flickered across Malfoy's face made her regret her temper instantly. "Look, I'm sorry." She quickly corrected herself, "I get it, but you also have to understand that I'm never going to trust you. Ever. But I guess you're asking isn't bad in itself…Ginny's fine. Or she will be eventually; she's in a lot of pain over Fred dying and Ron's suicide." She glanced over, but miraculously Ginny slept on. How she could do that Hermione didn't know. Even before…everything…, Hermione had been a light sleeper, but now, sleep came in bursts and nightmares plagued her.

"Well I'm sorry. But it's good to know she's recovering. She's lucky to have family to support her," Malfoy paused momentarily before shifting towards the door. "I'll be going then. Granger," he nodded in dismissal.

As he slid the door open Hermione could hear Dumbledore in her head. Now is not the time for past grudges. Now is the time for forgiveness. Perhaps Dumbledore was right. And it was her place to be a role model to the rest of the students, seeing as she was the only one of the trio returning to school. "Wait," she held out her hand as she called softly to him. But once he had turned she couldn't ask.

"Yes?" Malfoy asked coolly, raising one nonchalant eyebrow after the silence had become too long to be socially acceptable.

"Would you…that is to say…" Hermione stuttered, suddenly nervous under his sardonic stare, "…do you need…well…do you have anywhere else to sit on the train? Or are you all alone?"

Malfoy looked momentarily surprised but masked the emotion quickly. "Yeah," he remarked sarcastically, "'cause I have so many friends, what with my being a traitor to some, and a murderer to others."

Hearing the self contempt in his voice Hermione knew she had made the right decision. "Stay," she told him.