I don't own Harry Potter- if I did, lets just say 19 years later would be very very different.
So...on with the story and I hope you enjoy! Please review...and that goes for all chapters!
Hermione watched the next child go up to the sorting hat. Unlike her peers, she was not waving or holding her head up high to seem unafraid. No, the slight girl was hidden underneath a witches hat, her hair and features hidden from prying eyes.
"Ma-" McGonagall looked up across the hall before swallowing the word and correcting herself: "Grace." Hermione hadn't followed the headmistresses gaze, still trying to discern who was under the hat.
"Take your hat off, dear," the old headmistress said to the girl. Most couldn't hear it, but Hermione did. The small girl pulled her sleeves into her hands before taking off the hat, looking in the same direction the headmistress had moments ago. She held her chin up high as white gold hair styled in a pixie cut was revealed and the whole hall went completely silent. Only one other person had hair that colour.
Her sorting went on and the hat mumbled incoherently to her, deciding which house to be put in.
"Well then…Gryffindor!" The sorting hat announced, almost proudly. Hushed whispers of disbelief spread throughout the student body: The sorting hat had finally lost it; Gryffindor was- well, the opposite of a Malfoy…
Grace slid off the chair and quite forcefully pulled her own hat over her head once again. She didn't even glance over to the Gryffindor table before running towards the doors of the great hall. Most expected to hear the doors open and shut but instead were met with the sight of the Malfoy children embracing. She had run straight into the arms of her big brother, who enveloped her completely with his six foot four stature. He had pried her hat off her head and smoothed her hair bending down to talk to her in hushed tones. He brushed away a tear that had escaped. Hermione was sure of it. He seemed completely serious as he handed her the hat and she nodded in understanding, just as serious as her brother while looking over to the Gryffindor table. Hermione found herself under the gaze of two pairs of silver eyes.
Hermione watched as the Malfoy boy returned to his Slytherin table and his sister slunk over to hers. He didn't sit among his posse as usual; instead he stuck out like a sore thumb at the end of the table near the door, completely alone. The war had left many completely alone. Draco Malfoy had killed his own father and several other death eaters after and during the Battle of Hogwarts. His mother had died as well, and the Slytherin and pureblood heirs had left him alone because of his tainted reputation. Blood supremacy was a thing of the past for most, but most of the Slytherins had not been active in the war, and thought killing was an extremity. It was the reality for most in the hall above the age of fifteen.
She knew all of this because she had been there at his trial. She had not allowed it for him to be condemned to a fate worse than death, because of the look in his eyes when she had lain on the floor in his Manor. It was the understanding that kept her sane. It seemed ridiculous, but she had convinced herself that if Malfoy could live through the pain than she would too. He would not beat her. She had seen the pain and worry in his eyes at his trial at the beginning. She had seen the relief when he was released of charges. Before, she believed he was just happy to be free, to get away lucky, but now she understood he had to get away free- for Grace.
His eyes followed his sister, who seemed at loss for where to sit. The other spaces around the table had suddenly become filled with coats and jumpers and the children were sending curious looks or glares at Grace. Hermione bit her lip, thinking. She had sat away from her friends, too concerned with her head duties. She was away from all the other students, and there was a seat across from her. She waved the first year over with a kind half-smile on her face. The young girl looked back at her brother for conformation. The head boy nodded to his sister in encouragement and then to Hermione, it seemed to be a 'thank you'. He stood and then Hermione suddenly became conscious of the fact that McGonagall was still finishing her speech.
"- and our head students this year are Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy," Hermione stood up abruptly, looking almost shaken and sat down as the hesitant applause stopped. The Malfoy's seemed to be hiding smirks. Hermione rolled her eyes.
Food appeared on the plates in front of them and Hermione went back to reading through her duties and finalizing schedules for the prefects. Of course she'd gotten head girl. 'Her good grades and amazing acts of heroism wasn't all for nothing' was how her best friends had put it. It seemed like a normal thing for her to do, after all these years, and she needed the time alone. The only thing that bought her out of her reverie was the smell of chocolate brownies. She reached over for one, exposing her arm. She had rolled up her sleeves, it was exceptionally warm for a September evening, and in doing so had exposed the scar on her left arm.
"We match," she heard the soft voice of the Malfoy girl. What could they possibly have in common apart from the fact that they were in Gryffindor together? She was about to voice her doubts when she looked up to see Grace pulling up her sleeve to reveal a scar much like her own, except with a unique word:
Traitor
