Hermione Granger, keeping quite a keen and watchful eye over her very crowded surroundings, leaned as casually as possible against the barrier and made brief eye-contact with Ron before she felt herself pass easily onto the platform. Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks had slipped through the barrier first, but if any witches or wizards had remarked on the fact that Harry Potter and his friends were being escorted by Aurors, they didn't show it. Hermione hardly thought that Death Eaters would choose such a populous location for an attack, but the Order was taking no risks and sparing none of its members on duty.
Even Harry, who in the darkest of times would be cheered with the idea of returning to school, was fraught with tension, and Hermione knew why: Hogwarts simply wasn't as safe as it had once been, with or without Dumbledore to protect them, and Harry, in the fashion that only he could achieve, was about to place the weight of that whole-heartedly on his own shoulders. The evidence that the tides were changing was everywhere, wasn't it? If not by the Prophet or otherwise reported in the media, it manifested in the way people simply looked at the Boy Who Lived; their nervous glances, their stage whispers, their complete aversion to anything to do with Harry and, ironically, their morbid obsession with him were all so painfully apparent. They were desperate to believe that Harry was their savior, desperate to live through the gathering war and yet skeptical of everything he claimed.
"Ginny, dear," Molly said bracingly, and it was Hermione's queue to turn away from the people who were steadfastly ignoring them all. Worry lined the aging witch's face even as she tried to smile warmly and, with a soft sigh, she placed both hands affectionately on either side of her only daughter's cheeks. "No dueling this year-"
"Mum -"
"No matter who it is, Ginevra! And do stay out of trouble, for Merlin's sake."
"I won't fight anyone who doesn't deserve it," grumbled Ginny, and Ron snorted somewhere off to her left.
Molly appeared to be trying to issue as many warnings to her last two school-aged children as she possibly could, and so Hermione cast around for Harry instead. She finally spotted him deep in conversation with Arthur and Kingsley, probably receiving a less-Maternal version of the same debriefing, and Hermione suddenly felt very alone: it could very well be the last she saw of these people, after all.
Lupin appeared in front of her, then, drowning out the sound of Molly's motherly advice and looking quite as shabby as he ever had in his Muggle clothing. Lupin's arm wound around her shoulder and steered her away from the rest, clearing his throat as he did, and Hermione was confused. Lupin very rarely singled her out to speak privately, but she realized quickly that he was leading her well out of earshot.
"Hermione. I daresay this term will be an eventful one." A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth but his candid, level gaze belied the light-spirited tone.
"As ever, sir," Hermione agreed and wished that, for once, they could indeed have an ordinary school year without the threat of death and destruction looming ever closer.
"As much as I know you're looking forward to your Head Girl duties, Hermione, you mustn't - this is very important - you mustn't let anything distract you from what needs to be done. The war is coming, and there is much more to accomplish if we are to have a hope of winning. Harry will need all the help he can get."
Hermione nodded mutely, wondering why Lupin felt the need to explain this to her. Hadn't she always been there to help, regardless of anything, school work included? Did he really think Harry would be alone when the time came?
"I cannot stress enough, that you must be ever watchful. Constant vigilance, Hermione. Let no one get in the way. No one." Lupin gestured, and Hermione followed his gaze. Together, they watched as the last two of their number passed through the barrier: Mad-Eye Moody and, beside him, Draco Malfoy.
Lupin turned back to her, catching her in a surprise embrace as he whispered urgently into her ear, "I doubt very much that everything is as it seems."
On the train, Hermione and Ron headed to the Prefects carriage while Harry and Ginny sought out a compartment for their own. Draco had broken apart from the Order as soon as they arrived on the Platform, obviously too embarrassed to be seen by his fellow Slytherins (or anybody else for that matter) in such company. When Narcissa Malfoy had insisted earlier in the morning that she be present to see her son off to school, Mad-Eye Moody had bluntly refused, leaving Draco with no one of his own sort to accompany him. He had brooded the entire way to Kings Cross and was still brooding when Ron and Hermione slid the compartment door closed.
The carriage was boisterous and active with everyone chatting excitedly or else congratulating each other for being made Prefect, but when heads turned and saw the two Gryffindors enter, a notable hush fell over the crowd. One girl leaned in close to another and whispered something Hermione couldn't hear.
Hermione pretended not to notice. "Well, if everyone's here, then…" She cleared her throat. "Er, well, firstly, I've been made Head Girl and…"
She looked across the carriage at Malfoy, who rolled his eyes contemptuously and said nothing.
"And Draco Malfoy's Head Boy," Hermione finished, annoyed.
The announcement was met with a tense, agitated sort of silence that seemed to stretch awkwardly on. Not a person moved or spoke for several moments.
"You?" Romilda Vane finally remarked loudly, and it was enough to ignite a chorus of murmuring throughout the group.
They had expected Hermione Granger, of course, but certainly not Draco Malfoy. Malfoy, who had not shown any obvious signs of dedication to his lessons. Malfoy, who had always seemed more interested in girls than his Prefect duties. Malfoy, who handed out detentions unfairly and had spent more time playing cruel and petty pranks than punishing them.
"That's right," Malfoy confirmed, glaring. "Me. Or didn't you know that I've got the highest marks of any boy in our year?"
Ron scoffed obnoxiously and said, "Highest marks? You haven't got the highest marks, Terry Boot has!"
But Terry Boot looked at the floor and shook his head. "I haven't."
Malfoy turned a bemused gaze to Weasley. "Some people don't have to showcase their intelligence like your little know-it-all, Mudblood girlfriend."
Ron's flushed brilliantly, his ears growing a shade of red that was very unbecoming indeed before he stood and drew his wand. "Watch your mouth, Malfoy, or I'll hex you!"
"Ron, no!" Hermione warned.
But Malfoy didn't appear to be afraid at all. Instead of rising from his seat when Ron did, he only smirked haughtily back.
"Ten points from Gryffindor, for threatening the Head Boy. Now you can explain to your house why term hasn't even started yet and you lot are already negative."
"Oh, shut up. Both of you," Hermione snapped. "In case the two of you forgot, we're supposed to be having a meeting."
"It's an empty threat anyway," Colin Creevey said. "He can't take points before term starts."
"Ron. Sit down," Hermione said calmly, leveling a scathing look at Malfoy, whose unperturbed stare flicked down to her hand as she tugged on the sleeve of Ron's robe. "Sit down, please. He's not worth it."
Ron slid grumpily down into his seat but didn't stop glaring at Malfoy for the rest of the meeting, nor did he put away his wand. Hermione wished Ron wouldn't be so hot-headed (for Malfoy didn't warrant so much energy) but she could hardly expect anything less from a Weasley's temper. The use of that word had never to Hermione's knowledge elicited anything but a violent reaction from one of the Weasley children, but really, all Ron was doing was empowering Malfoy. Enough was quite enough.
The meeting lasted more than half an hour, due in no small part to the trouble it took to get everyone focused again. There were snide remarks from Slytherins that were met with equal force from Gryffindors and a few select Ravenclaws. Malfoy did nothing to intervene. Infuriatingly enough, Draco seemed not to be amused by the exchange but was rather watching the Slytherins closely. Gauging their reactions to him, probably.
Once what little they could settle amongst themselves had been discussed, Hermione closed the meeting before she and Ron stood to leave.
"Granger."
Hermione looked over her shoulder. It was Malfoy, still reclining lazily in his seat. Hermione wondered how he could manage to look so leisurely even while sitting in an upright compartment bench.
"I want a word," he said, his gaze jumping briefly to Ron and back again.
"Well, get on with it then," Ron said. "We haven't got all day, Malfoy."
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Oh, pardon me, Weasel, I hadn't realized you were the Head Girl. I do hear that sort of thing is becoming more acceptable in Muggle circles."
Ron's face pulled tight with annoyance, but Hermione gave him a long, pleading look which he seemed to eventually understand because, after a moment of hesitation, he left. Hermione slid the door shut behind him.
Hermione faced Malfoy, arms crossed.
"You're going to want to sit, Granger."
She narrowed her eyes. "I'll stand, thanks."
"Fine," he acquiesced, shrugging. "But don't expect me to catch you when you faint."
Hermione raised a careful brow and said nothing.
"Dumbledore came to tell me that…" He sneered in obvious distaste. "We'll be sharing a common room."
Hermione gave a sharp but genuine laugh. "That's rich. Nice try, Malfoy." She turned to leave, but Malfoy stood, crossed the compartment in one step, and pressed his hand to the compartment door.
"It's not a joke, Granger. He came last night, to…" Draco's eyes darted to the door, as though someone may be listening, and seemed to reconsider. "To you-know-where. He told me himself."
Hermione looked pointedly at his hand, which was far too close to her face, but Malfoy didn't move. She studied his serious eyes, searching for either lies or jest, but he stared defiantly back at her.
She definitely hadn't remembered Dumbledore calling at Grimmauld Place the night before. He hadn't, in fact, been to the Order's headquarters in more than two weeks. Doubt pulled at her mind. Certainly, Dumbledore was within his power to show up in London unbeknownst to her.
"That's preposterous," she said finally. "Never in Hogwarts, A History has it ever mentioned that a Head Boy and Girl share a private common room. I hardly think that Dumbledore would make such an ill-advised decision."
"Forget your stupid books, Granger," Malfoy said unkindly. "Look, I'm just trying to give you a warning, but perhaps I shouldn't have spared you the embarrassment of having a fit in front of Snape, or McGonagall, or whoever it is who leads us to the common room."
"Malfoy, for more than a thousand years, Head Boys and Girls have been in their own house dormitories. Why would Professor Dumbledore change it now?"
He scoffed. "Can you think of no reason? Really, Mudblood, 'the cleverest witch of her age' my arse. You're clearly as thick as your boyfriend."
"Ron is not my boyfriend!" Hermione retorted angrily.
"Funny, that." Malfoy grinned. "I didn't even say Weasley's name."
Hermione felt the blood rush to her cheeks. "Excuse me, Malfoy, but I think I'll leave now."
Malfoy gave her a long look before pushing off the compartment door and taking a step back. His eyes never left her.
She knew it could not be true. It was in no way even remotely logical, and yet something about the conversation struck a discordant note. "Why, Malfoy, after six years of unadulterated hate, are you trying to do me a favor?"
Malfoy curled his lip, as though even the words he was about to speak tasted awful in his mouth. "Surely, after more than two months, you must realize that things are different."
This time it was Hermione who took a step forward, closing the space between them. She lowered her voice and glared up at him.
"Maybe some people think things are different, Malfoy," she said slowly. "Maybe some of the Order think your family has changed. But I don't."
Draco Malfoy raised his chin, regarding her coolly from beneath long lashes. Hermione stepped back, gave him one last scrutinizing look, and then turned to leave.
"See you in the dorm, Granger," he called just as she slid the door shut behind her.
