Chapter Two: A New Leaf
As they pulled into Hogsmeade, the general atmosphere was a lot quieter than usual. The final battle before the summer had taken its toll on everyone, and there were signs of the troubles the students had endured when you looked into their eyes – some peoples' eyes appeared glassed over, and they had vacant stares on their faces, whereas others had a firm, steadfast resolve painted on their faces, as if they were enduring an on-going battle with themselves to be strong and get on with life, despite all the hardships they'd endured. Hermione sighed to herself; she could already tell that things wouldn't be the same this year. There was no on-going mystery – no evil dark wizard who was trying to kill her friends – so instead she only had her exams and her future to focus on.
Her future.
Those two words scared her immensely – more than the prospect of duelling a death eater or two, or killing a Horcrux ever had – because Hermione Granger, for once, had no idea what she wanted to do.
As the Golden trio road up to the castle in the Thestral-drawn carriages, they smiled sadly at the wondrous expressions on the other student's faces, which were now seeing the winged Thestrals for the first time, because of the deaths they'd all witnessed. Harry broached the very subject that had been worrying Hermione, first. "What are we going to do, you know," he began, "after this year is over? Once we've got our exams?"
Ron stared off into the distance for a moment, in a daydream, before answering Harry. "I'm going to try out for Keeper for Chudley Cannons, mate," he grinned and Harry and Hermione smiled wanly at him. Neither of them wanted to break it to him that he was hardly the best keeper they'd ever seen, but, being Ron's best friends, they kept quiet. Then again, Hermione mused, The Chudley Cannons were hardly the best team, so maybe Ron would make the team. "You?" Ron asked, to Harry and Hermione. Shrugging, Hermione let Harry answer, first.
"I don't know. Defence Against the Dark Arts has always been my best subject, so I might see if McGonagall wants me to take the position at Hogwarts, or maybe I'll train to be an Auror," Harry suggested, and he was met with wild nods of agreement from Ron and Hermione. Harry would make hardly need much training to make a good Auror, Hermione thought to herself. He had more courage and experience fighting bad wizards than anyone else at the Ministry of Magic.
It was now Hermione's turn. "Erm I'm not too sure," she began, and Harry and Ron rolled their eyes.
"Come on Hermione, you're the cleverest witch I know, and you don't know?" Ron exclaimed, and Harry nodded in agreement.
"It's not that... it's just I've never thought about it before," Hermione continued. "I mean I've always been so busy thinking about Voldemort, and what our next move would be, that I've never properly sat down and thought about a career path. But I guess I would like to be Mediwitch, or maybe work in publishing..."
Harry and Ron smiled at Hermione, who, with a shrug of her shoulders turned and surveyed the great castle that stood before them; the damage that had been done to it in the final battle repaired, and with a few modifications at that. Even from as far away as the carriages were, Hermione could already see the extra bulges, which she presumed were either extra classrooms or living quarters for this year's extended intake of students.
When the carriages finally pulled up to the school, children and young adults milled around hugging and chatting to those they hadn't seen since the battle – exchanging stories of holidays abroad and gossip. The sight of unity brought a smile to Hermione's face, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and surveyed as Harry was engulfed by a sea of admirers, Ron, desperately trailing behind in a search for at least some glory.
A tall, dark haired boy with a scar trailing down from his hairline turned and grinned in recognition when he saw Hermione, and enveloped her in a bone crushing hug. It took Hermione a few extra seconds to recognise the gangly youth as Neville – and for the first time in ages, a broad grin spread across her face. Neville was one of the people who had grown up, since the battle – his shoulders now broader, his face looking slightly careworn and weather beaten, and his voice was now deep and clear rather than the squeaky and timid first-year Neville Longbottom she'd grown to know and love. Luna milled over to the group, a pink star hanging on a rainbow coloured thread around her neck, and she smiled warmly at Hermione, before reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss Neville, who returned the gesture passionately, as he locked lips with Luna, an arm snaking around her waist.
Hermione's grin fell as she walked away from the embracing couple. It seemed like she truly would be forever alone, at this rate, as Ron's old time lover, Lavender simpered after him, whilst he ignored her, still looking for some glory from Harry's admirers. Ginny was gazing fondly at Harry, but he hadn't seen her yet, Hermione noticed, from where she was stood at the top of the steps. Letting out an exasperated sigh, Hermione folded her robes – which she has been surprised to find still fitted her, from last term – beneath her, as she sat down on the step and opened her book to where she had left off.
Over the years, Hermione had become accomplished at the art of blocking out noise, so, ignoring the excited chatter and general static noise that surrounded her, Hermione let the crisp cream pages of her latest novel engulf her. It was a good book – a Muggle book, for a change, one she'd bought at Kings Cross before they left for Hogwarts – and was the tale of Bella Swan, a girl in love with a vampire. It was completely devoid from the truth, but nevertheless it made an interesting read. So interesting, in fact, that is took the blonde boy who stood over Hermione several attempts to catch her attention.
When he finally did, with a loud clearing of his throat, Hermione looked up in surprise, and nearly dropped her crisp new copy of Twilight. "Malfoy?" She asked, her voice cracking slightly in shock at the fact that he seemed to be acknowledging her existence.
"Yes, that would be me," he drawled, which would have been sarcastic – Hermione wasn't too sure – before he continued. "D'you mind if I join you?" He asked, gesturing to the stone step beside her. Her eyes widened in shock – after everything, did he seriously think he could waltz in as if he'd never supported the evil wizard who'd been trying to kill her and her friends? But then Hermione felt a twinge of sympathy as she recalled the Prophet article she'd read – the one regarding Lucius Malfoy and his trial, and finally the Dementors administrating the kiss of death. She nodded, and Malfoy sat down beside her, careful, she noted, not to touch her.
He clearly still had blood issues, she mused. But who could blame him, she thought, with parents like his. "How was your summer?" He asked, seemingly genuinely interested. Hermione turned to regard him suspiciously before replying.
"Same old, same old. My parents are in Australia with no recollection of ever having a daughter, my best friends are basking in the glory that comes with winning a war, whilst I've been trying to finish this book except I keep getting interrupted," Hermione gestured to the book in her hands.
"Twilight?" Malfoy smirked.
Hermione threw him a warning look. "Yes, Twilight. What's wrong with it?" Hermione asked the tone in her voice a little harsh, as if she was testing this new found civility.
"Nothing," Malfoy grinned, "I'd just never pegged you as an unrealistic teen-trashy romance kind of girl," he smirked. Hermione's mouth dropped slightly, before she realised he had a point. Before, she'd never have pegged herself as that kind of a girl, either. It seemed she'd become increasingly desperate and lovesick after her break up with Ron – trading her usual factual history books for teen fiction. She grinned, and replied to Malfoy.
"It's not totally unrealistic," she began, but she was met with a raised eyebrow from Malfoy.
"It's about a vampire who kills animals so he doesn't have to drink human blood and sparkles," Malfoy pointed out, a smirk on his face.
"You've read it?" Hermione asked, shocked. He shrugged, looking kind of sheepish.
"I found myself with a lot of spare time during the summer holidays," he explained. He didn't have to say, but Hermione knew he was alluding to his father's death, and his mother's breakdown. "I spent a lot of time in the Muggle part of London during the summer – and it seemed that Meyer's series were all that Muggle bookshops were stocking, so of course I thought I'd see if it was everything it was cut out to be." Hermione gaped, shocked at how honest and nice Malfoy was being, but he continued, regardless of her shock. "I could ruin the end for you, but I won't, seeing as I've meant to turn over a new leaf."
"Umm... thanks?" Hermione said, the cogs in her brain turning at a million miles an hour. This whole thing was so confusing. What was Draco Malfoy doing, being so nice to someone like her? Hermione Granger, who he'd always pointed out, was a filthy little Mudblood... she shook it off, as Draco threw her a broad grin.
When Hermione thought about it, she could see why Draco had his reputation with the girls of Slytherin for being somewhat of a ladies' man – he actually could hold an intelligent conversation, and he wasn't too bad on the eyes either. He'd dropped the habit of slicking his hair back with that preposterous gel, Hermione noted, and instead his blond locks fell slightly in his eyes, and he kept flicking them to the side. His grey eyes, although they still held a cold, hard edge, seemed warmer somehow - like a block of ice that was finally melting after a cold, long winter.
Snap out of it, Hermione told herself, this is Malfoy we're talking about. He's one of the reasons that so many of her friends were now lying motionless in their graves. But a little part of her niggled away, trying earnestly to believe what Malfoy had told her, that he'd turned over a new leaf.
"Don't mention it, Granger," Malfoy chuckled, as he picked himself up, dusting off his robes. "Unfortunately, whilst I'd love to stay and keep you company whilst all of these imbeciles fulfil their embraces which would make anyone think they haven't seen each other in ten years, I have to go and take my luggage to my room. See you later," he smiled, as he turned on his heels and walked off into the courtyard, where a pile of luggage was growing.
Hermione sat in stunned silence, for a few moments, before she had the composure to turn back to the crisp pages of her novel.
But try as she might, after that experience with Malfoy, she could no longer see Edward Cullen in the swoony teenage heart throb way that was surely intended; instead all she could see was a sparkling pathetic wimp. She groaned, slamming the book shut and putting it back in her back.
Leaning back against the cool brick of the castle, once more surveying the sea of students, Hermione thought about the year ahead. Maybe it really would be different this year…
