Subdued

By PeterPanAndTheLostBoys

Disclaimer: Sadly, I own nothing.

Chapter One

Somehow, miraculously, they were early for once. Hermione glanced at her watch; they had almost ten minutes to spare. This was probably due to the fact that for the first time in history, Harry and Ron had packed their bags the night before- so there was no last minute rush around the Burrow that morning, looking for socks. It seemed that Hermione wasn't the only one who was desperately eager to get back to Hogwarts. In fact- she thought, eyeing the hordes of students littering the platform- almost everyone appeared to be overflowing with anticipation. Almost everyone.

There was one face that stood out from the crowd as being a little less than pleased. Draco Malfoy. He and his mother were standing apart from the masses, saying what Hermione thought was a rather reluctant goodbye.

"What the bloody hell is he doing here?" Ron appeared at her side, jerking his head in Malfoy's direction and raising his voice above the incessant hooting of owls. "Doesn't look too happy, does he?"

Hermione made a vague noise of agreement but said nothing. It was true that he didn't look happy, but he didn't look exactly unhappy, either. Hermione thought he looked uncomfortable, more than anything.

"Who are you looking at?" asked Ginny, who'd temporarily managed to worm her way out of Mrs Weasley's arms by leaving Harry behind to be suffocated instead.

"Malfoy. I said he looked like a miserable git." Ron snorted.

"Not like he doesn't deserve it," muttered Ginny. "Why is he coming back, anyway?"

"To do his N.E.W.T.s, like the rest of us?"

Ginny laughed.

"Hermione, I think you're the only one who came back purely to do her exams."

"Yeah, and besides- it didn't really seem like his grades were a priority when he spent an entire year trying to sneak Death Eaters into the school instead of doing his homework," said Ron.

Their conversation was interrupted as a girl suddenly tore past them to greet her friend on the other end of the platform. The two girls hugged and jumped up and down, periodically erupting shrill squeals of delight.

"Bloody hell," mumbled Ron, before he turned and ambled back in the direction of Harry, his parents and George, who had reopened Weasley's Wizard Wheezes the week before, and was taking the morning off to accompany them to the train station.

"Mum's going to want to say goodbye to you, too," said Ginny, as she left to follow her brother.

Hermione sighed. The girlish shrieks had become less frequent now, and Hermione watched Malfoy flinch at each one. He looked different, too.

Someone tapped her on the shoulder and she turned to see Harry smiling at her and rubbing his neck. Mrs Weasley really hadn't wanted to let go.

"Mrs Weasley wants to say goodbye. I'd actually hope for a brief hug- she almost strangled me." Harry smiled, and then followed Hermione's gaze to see what- or rather, who- she'd been watching. He stopped smiling.

"Hey, I'll meet you guys on the train, okay? Go say goodbye to Mrs Weasley." Harry manoeuvred his way through the swarm of students that were crowding the platform edge, starting to fill the train. Hermione watched, confused, as he finally reached the Malfoys and nodded to Draco, before shaking hands with Narcissa. The train whistled.

"Hermione!"

Hermione whirled around and hurried back to the Weasleys. She got a very brief hug from Mrs Weasley, a warmer hug from Mr Weasley, and a much warmer hug- and a small smile- from George. He'd started smiling a lot more recently than he had in the past few months, but they still didn't quite meet his eyes.

"Try not to get into too much trouble, alright?" He winked.

They'd already found an empty compartment and been joined by Neville and Luna when Harry caught up to them.

"Hey," said Ron, as he scooted over to make room for his best friend, "where did you go?"

"I went to talk to Mrs Malfoy." Harry dropped down onto the seat between Ron and Ginny, and the latter let her head fall onto his shoulder. "I never got a chance to thank her at the hearing."

Hermione, Ginny and Ron knew exactly what he meant by this, but Neville and Luna hadn't been given the full unedited version of events from that day over three months ago. Thankfully, they were talking between themselves and hadn't caught a word of Harry's, so no explanation was needed.

Taking that as the end of the conversation, Ginny proceeded to change the subject and asked Harry whether or not he thought he'd be allowed on the Quidditch team as an eighth year. This then led into a discussion about Quidditch in general- and Hermione, no longer having an interest in the exchange, leant her head on the window and let her mind wander.

She was thinking about the feast that would be waiting for them- and what Hogwarts was going to be like without Dumbledore, having not attended last year- when she became abruptly aware of Ron's legs. He was sitting across from her, and when the both of them had their legs stretched out, as they did at that moment, they became entwined. She hadn't even realised that without thinking, they had weaved their legs together. Now that she had noticed, of course, she had to put a stop to it.

As she slowly started to withdraw her legs, Ron became aware of their situation and pulled his legs back. Hermione tucked her legs underneath her- safe out of the way- and almost unconsciously looked up at him. He caught her eye and offered her a gentle smile. She forced herself to smile back.

She had to get out of there.

"I'll be back in a minute," she muttered, as she rose out of her seat and picked her way over the tangle of legs in the middle of the compartment. She could feel Ron watching her go, but she didn't look back.

She closed the door behind her and started down the corridor towards the toilet. On her way she was pulled into several different compartments by several different students who wanted to know all about her summer, and why she was back on the train again. No one asked about last year. A lot of them were sensitive enough to avoid the question, but some of them just didn't think to ask. Lord Voldemort was gone- they didn't need to know how. It was enough just to know.

As Hermione was extricating herself from yet another group of fourth years, she spotted an empty compartment and hastily made her way towards it. Before she had put her arm out to take hold of the door handle, however, she realised that it was not in fact empty. Draco Malfoy met her eyes and held them for a few seconds before turning away.

He was alone at the feast, as well. The rest of Slytherin house had given him a wide berth- even the brand new first years instinctively avoided the seats around him.

Hermione finally pinpointed what it was that made him look different. He looked smaller. She knew that he had withered away substantially last year- she had seen that at Malfoy Manor. In the past few months he had filled back out again, and now he looked almost like his old self. But he seemed smaller. Perhaps it was the absence of his faithful bodyguards- though the contrast they had provided hadn't made him look big. Not physically smaller, then. Vulnerable.

She cast her eyes down the rest of the Slytherin table. Something was different. Almost half of the table was empty- the children of Death Eaters who had shared their parents' ideals had wisely elected not to come back to Hogwarts. A few of them, Hermione knew, were even in Azkaban. But those that were left seemed off, somehow. Maybe they had accepted the fact that most of them had been in the wrong. They had fought for the losing side and had had to swallow a lot of pride to come crawling back to continue their education. The whole house seemed…subdued.

As her eyes wandered back over the table she locked stares with Malfoy, who'd chosen that moment to look up. He glared at her.

Hermione shook herself and dragged her mind back to the Gryffindor table. Thankfully, things were still sufficiently awkward with Ron that he had chosen to talk to Neville instead of her, and Harry and Ginny were too much absorbed in each other's company to wonder why Hermione was being so quiet.

She realised that she had stopped eating a few minutes earlier, and hurriedly picked her fork back up, accidentally brushing the back of Ron's hand as she did so. He snatched his hand out of her reach without looking at her or breaking his dialogue with Neville. Hermione sighed under her breath.

Was it always going to be this awkward? Two months ago it had been a hundred times worse, and things had improved greatly since then, but it felt like they were never going to get past this stage. Awkward, tentative friendship.

It could have been worse, though. At least it was mutual. A month of dating had been enough for the both of them to recognise that they weren't going to work. They were too comfortable, and what was more- they had both wanted it for so long that the real thing couldn't possibly live up to their heightened expectations.

Mrs Weasley was clearly holding a grudge on Ron's behalf, though, despite his assurances that Hermione hadn't dumped him. Her manner towards Hermione had been slightly chilly ever since- making her months at the Burrow even more uncomfortable. Every day it had been harder and harder to resist the temptation to find her parents and attempt to restore their memories. Only the thought that there were Death Eaters still out there prevented her from going to Australia. That, and she was terrified of the possibility that she wouldn't be able to reverse the spell.

The dessert that Hermione hadn't been eating then vanished from under her idle fork, and Professor McGonagall started to talk. Hermione felt a pang for all the first and second years who had missed out on having Albus Dumbledore as a headmaster.

"All of the eighth year students stay behind, please." McGonagall finished, calling over the buzz of students who had already been excused. Hermione watched as each of the four house tables slowly emptied to leave behind six students- four Gryffindors, a Hufflepuff, no Ravenclaws and two Slytherins.

McGonagall waited until the echoes of excited first-years stopped bouncing off the walls before she started talking.

"I'm glad that some of you thought it worthwhile to continue your studies." She surveyed the small group of students in front of her. "Though admittedly, I did expect there to be significantly more of you."

Seven, Hermione thought. Of the forty students that were in her year, only six had chosen to come back. Less than a quarter.

She scanned the other three tables again and tried to figure out who was missing. Ernie Macmillan hadn't come back- she was surprised by that- and neither had Michael Corner or Terry Boot. Of course, there was the possibility that Hogwarts no longer held pleasant memories for most students. Perhaps she shouldn't be so surprised by the poor attendance.

a/n: Hello! Just a little note here to introduce myself- this is my first time writing a fic so it seemed like the thing to do. Though it also seems a little cocky to be writing an author's note. Here I am, talking to you- the reader- blindly assuming that you exist. In reality, I'm currently convinced that no one will ever read this- that if anyone clicks on my story in the first place they'll have given up long before they reached this. But, you know, I've read my fair share of fanfiction, and leaving an author's note appears to be the thing to do. All the cool kids are doing it.

Also, I'd like to formally apologise for having already used the word "subdued" once. I need to be stopped. Maybe I should start a tally.

Anyway. I hope you liked this first chapter- if indeed you do exist. And if you do, feel free to prove that existence by leaving a review. Preferably something nice, but insults and criticism are also acceptable.

PeterPan