Hermione woke up very early on the first day of school. She took a shower, combed out her hair, and wore a fitted black shirt and styled jeans. After she was satisfied with her appearance, she went downstairs to hurry up her parents.

As usual when Hermione arrived at Platform 9¾ she looked for her best friends first.

There! She saw them in a compartment and ran over to say hi.

"Hey guys!" she said, smiling widely. She hadn't seen them all summer, but they didn't seem to have changed at all. Neither had Ginny, who was sitting with them.

"Um, who are you?" Ron said, staring at her, just like Harry and Ginny were.

"Mione! You look great!" Ginny said delightedly, jumping up and giving her a hug. "I almost didn't recognize you!"

"Thanks," Hermione said, laughing. "I don't look that different, do I?"

"Well, you definitely look different," Harry said, standing up to give her his own hug. Hermione bent down to give Ron one, as well.

"Thanks. My cousin and I went shopping and she gave me a makeover," she said, twirling so they could get the full effect of her outfit. She stopped as a thought occurred to her. "Oh, yeah! I broke up with Viktor over the summer. Thought you might want to know."

"Why?" the three of them asked together, surprised.

"He cheated on me," Hermione said, shrugging. It didn't bother her nearly as much anymore.

"Ouch," Ginny said sympathetically.

"Yeah, well, if I never see him again I'll be happy," Hermione said, slinging her book bag onto the floor. "It wasn't working anyway." Turning to her two friends, she asked, "So, how was your summer?"

"Wait," Harry said, frowning. "Shouldn't you be in Head's compartment?"

"Why would I be in the Head's compartment?" Hermione asked him, caught off-guard for a moment.

"Well, aren't you Head Girl?"

Hermione laughed. "No, I'm not," she said. The boys stared at her, and she smiled. "I was asked to be Head Girl by Dumbledore, but I turned him down. I don't want extra responsibility."

"Okay, I was just wondering before, but now I know," Ron said. "Who brainwashed you, Hermione?"

"Ron, nobody brainwashed me!" Hermione said, laughing. "I just didn't want extra responsibility. I would have to sleep separate from the Gryffindors, hold up school rules all the time, stuff like that. I couldn't get in trouble with you guys, and it's our last year. I want to have fun." She blushed slightly. "But do either of you know who they are? Are you Head Boy, Ron?"

"Nope, I'm not," Ron said. "I wonder who it is."

"Yeah, me too," Hermione said.

After a few minutes talking Hermione left to walk around for a little bit. Thinking, she walked up the corridor. Not watching where she was going, she ran into somebody. "Sorry, miss," said a voice that she recognized, and she looked up with a sigh.

"Malfoy," she said. He looked down at her, startled. He looked just as good as he had over the summer. The only change that she could see from their encounter over the summer was..."Oh dear god, please tell me that you're not Head Boy," she pleaded, the badge that she could have worn twinkling on his chest.

"No such luck," he said, still staring at her. "I am Head boy."


Jesus! It's the girl I saw in London! But isn't that Granger? Man, she looks different. I didn't recognize her.

But that would mean that she's the one I ran into and thought was hot.

He was distracted from his thoughts as she turned around to go back the way she came, revealing a cute butt shown off to perfection in her form-fitting jeans.

Whoa, he thought admiringly. Check that out. Then he shook himself mentally. What the hell are you doing? That's Granger, remember? The mudblood, the school geek, the one you hate. And she's not Head Girl? That surprises me. But if she was, that would mean I'd have to share sleeping quarters with her.

I wouldn't mind sharing sleeping quarters with that, said the little voice that had admired her ass and thought she was hot. She turned back around suddenly and said jerkily, "Congratulations." She turned back around and headed down the corridor.

"Wait," Draco said, and he saw her back tense before she turned to face him again. "Aren't you Head Girl?"

She smiled thinly and shook her head. "Dumbledore asked me, but I said no. It's my last year, and I want to have fun." And on that interesting note, she left.

Draco stood there for a moment, and then drifted back towards the Head's compartment. Getting his own badge was an amazing surprise, especially after what had happened at the top of the Astronomy tower last spring. Granted, he hadn't killed Dumbledore, but it had been a pretty near thing. Now he was disowned, his father most likely after his blood, and a Dark Mark tattooed into his flesh that burned periodically now. Voldemort was gathering his Death Eaters more often. It was a mark of Dumbledore's trust in him that he had given him this badge.

At the end of the journey Draco slowly gathered his things together and headed out into the corridors. That was a bad idea. He literally couldn't move, there were so many people in the corridor. Finally the press started to lessen up, and he began heading toward the general direction of the carriages. He walked much slower than the rest of the school, with the result that when he reached the carriages only one was left empty.

This wouldn't have been such a bad thing if Granger hadn't also been left seatless. She stood among the thinning crowd, searching for Weasley and Potter. Finally giving up, she arrived at the last carriage at the same time Draco did. Both of them drew up short when they saw who they would have to share a carriage with.

"Oh, no," Draco said, shaking his head and hoisting his bag up higher. "I will not share a carriage with you."

"Well, you know what, Malfoy? I feel the same way," she replied, looking around for another place to sit. Seeing none, she sighed and entered the carriage. "Well?" she said, irritated, when he didn't move. "It's either get in or walk. Take your pick."

Draco slowly entered the carriage, swearing silently as he saw that it was even smaller than the normal ones. He sat across from her, trying not to touch her if not absolutely necessary. He was very aware that she looked very different -better- than usual.


Hermione was relatively content. She had had a fun trip. This, though - this was a little different. She had enjoyed the fact that almost all of the boys had stared at her on the way to the carriages, and Draco had been affected too, she thought. But this carriage was pretty small. Not small enough to feel uncomfortable, but still closer than she wanted to be with Draco just yet.

Or ever, for that matter.

She held on as they started moving. She had always hated this road. It was very bumpy.

They didn't talk much on the way up. A particularly bad bump in the road caused an unprepared Hermione to tumble into Draco. He caught her, and by the time Hermione realized what had happened, she found herself in his lap, his arms around her waist and hers on his shoulders, their faces barely inches from each other. His eyes caught and held hers.

I never noticed how gray they are, she thought dizzily, staring. They were like quicksilver, changing constantly. Realizing exactly where she was, she froze. His eyes were still staring at her. They were both wondering what was going to happen next.

Finally he gently pushed her back to her seat, his large hands sliding over her waist sending an electric shock through her body. "Thank you," she said cautiously.

His face was unreadable as he replied, "You're welcome." Wondering what he thought about what he'd just done, Hermione looked back out the window.

When they arrived in front of the castle Hermione exited first and walked quickly up to the castle, her mind disturbed by the feelings she had had when she had ended up in Draco's lap. She glanced to the side and was mildly surprised to see Draco keeping pace with her a few feet away. He pulled ahead slightly in the press of children, and she took the opportunity to admire his profile and the way his muscles rippled as he walked.

When had he gotten so attractive? Is this a new thing over the summer, or had she just never noticed before? He turned his head and his face came into profile. She was captivated by the look in his gray eyes, lonely and imperious, not expecting sympathy from anyone. His face was, as always, nearly impossible to read.

What happened to him after last year? She thought suddenly. He couldn't have gone home. Harry said that Dumbledore promised him protection. Was he taken somewhere? Somewhere where the Death Eaters couldn't find him? Maybe he went to Grimmauld Place. We didn't go there all summer. I bet that's where he went.

If he did, I bet he got little sympathy from the Order. No wonder he looks like he's alone in the world. His family disowned him, Death Eaters out for his blood, and just because Dumbledore promised him shelter doesn't mean everyone else would be happy about it.

They entered the entrance hall, everyone chattering at the tops of their lungs. Hermione watched Pansy Parkinson slide up to Draco, take his arm, and whisper in his ear. Suppressing a feeling of irrational protection, she watched Draco shake his head and remove his arm.

"Hermione!" someone said, and Hermione jumped slightly as Harry and Ron struggled up next to her. "Where did you go?" Ron continued. "We couldn't find you."

"Oh, I got separated from you and had to go in a different compartment," Hermione said, dragging her mind away from the puzzle that was Draco Malfoy.

"Who was with you?" Harry asked as they entered the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table.

Hermione winced. She'd hoped to avoid this.

Oh, well. "Malfoy," she said, and waited for the bomb to fall.

It was not long in coming. "Malfoy?" Harry and Ron said together loudly. Hermione shushed them. "What did you do? Did he try anything? Cause if he did I'll-" Ron continued, half-rising toward the Slytherin table.

Hermione dragged him back down. "No, Ron, he didn't do anything, don't worry," she said, keeping him in his seat. "No, we didn't talk for the entire journey and we didn't touch once, I swear." A lie, but a needed one. If Ron found out that Hermione had ended up in Draco's lap with his hands around her waisthe would probably explode.

He settled down as Professor McGonagall entered with the first years. Glad to have something to think about, Hermione turned her attention to the front of the room. She didn't notice the glances that the boys were giving her, wondering about her new appearance. Her gaze kept on sliding toward the Slytherin table, but never stayed there. Why are you looking at him so much? It's not as if you like him, an inner voice chided as she tried to focus on Dumbledore as he rose to start the feast.

What would Hogwarts be without him? She couldn't even imagine. The boy two tables over had nearly taken him from them. He hadn't.

But what if he had? She shook her head angrily. Thinking like that made her head hurt.