Chapter 2
A/N: Hello! This is my second story (the other one is on hiatus indefinitely). It's post-war, which I suppose I should've mentioned last chapter and is probably pretty clear now… my bad!
Shoutout to lakelady8425 for being the first and only person to review!
Also, you can expect at least one update a month, if not more, but I make no promises.
The use of exclamation points in this authors note is physically hurting me but I can't be bothered to change it so I guess we'll just go with it.
DISCLAIMER: Wow, it is almost as if I am writing fanfiction, as in fiction written by a fan. It is almost as if none of this is the published work of JKR. Wow, who would've known that fanfiction on fan would be written by a fan and not the actual creator of the thing that the fanfangirls over. Astonishing.
"Malfoy?" Harry asked for what must have been the hundredth time, "Draco Malfoy is the Head Boy of Hogwarts? Malfoy? Are you sure?"
"Yes, Harry, I'm quite sure," Hermione replied, a bit exasperated, "Draco Malfoy is the Head Boy of Hogwarts. I am the Head Girl of Hogwarts. Over the course of the next year, I will be forced to spend multiple hours with him doing work and behaving at least faux civilly. Do stop repeating yourself like a parrot."
They were back in the compartment. Everyone was in their robes, ready for the feast in the Great Hall. The sorting was going to be particularly exciting this year as there were quite a lot of new first years. Perhaps their sheer number would make up for the students who had elected not to finish their education at Hogwarts.
Hermione was more than a bit irked at Harry. When she had first stormed into the compartment, Harry hadn't been there. When Harry finally reappeared in his Hogwarts attire, she had relayed the entire story, talking so fast she was left gasping for breath.
Harry's first reaction? "Calm down, Hermione," he'd said, "I haven't understood a word you're saying."
Needless to say, Hermione had had an aggravating train ride. She sank into her seat and drew her knees to her chest. Ron was pacing furiously. In one hand, he held the melted remains of a chocolate frog. His other fist was clenched around his wand. Hermione worried that he might break it.
"What are we going to do about this?" asked Ginny, "He can't just have the position like that. People have been wanting it for years. Someone like him should never have been in a position of power in the first place. That's what led to this whole bloody war, isn't it?"
Hermione shivered, remembering the cold marble floor of Malfoy Manor. She'd only felt it for a minute before the blazing pain of a Crucio shot through her, but it was one of her most vivid memories.
"I don't know, I don't know."
Malfoy's words when they'd first been captured by the Snatchers. Malfoy couldn't identify his poor schoolmate, Harry, with a Stinging Hex marring his features.
"I don't know, I don't know!"
He'd known. Hermione had seen Malfoy panic as he recognized Harry. In refusing to identify Harry, Malfoy had done his best to delay the inevitable. He'd done his best.
No, thought Hermione, His best would've been if he'd actually done something of substance. Something that actually worked.
His best, she realized, Would have been to give one of us a wand. Not easily, not just handed it to us, that would have been suicide. But just made one available. Given us some sort of weapon, some exit from that hell house.
But then, Harry had later snatched Malfoy's wand from a table. It had been unguarded, in the open. No respectable pureblood would have accidentally misplaced his wand. No respectable pureblood kept his wand anywhere but in his robes.
He'd done what he could, given the circumstances, Hermione supposed, but… it doesn't count for much, not in my book. Not after the years and years of siding with them. Not after the tattoo branding his forearm. Not after he housed the same woman who tortured me and killed Sirius and broke Neville's parents.
"Hermione?"
Hermione started. She looked up, shaking stray pieces of hair from her face. Ginny was giving her a worried look, Harry had run his hand through his hair again, and Ron was breathing heavily through his mouth.
They were all staring at her, as if waiting for a reply.
"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Hermione asked.
"I was just wondering if you'd talk to McGonagall about it, see if she'll get someone else to do it than Malfoy."
Hermione considered it for a moment. It was a reasonable proposition - if she could think of just how to put it. She couldn't exactly storm into the Headmistress's office and tell her "Excuse me, Headmistress, but you've placed a Death Eater in a position of power and I will not stand by it."
But that was just the issue. There was a Death Eater in a position of power, and Hermione could not stand by it.
Then again, Hermione had no idea what was going on in McGonagall's mind. McGonagall simply wasn't the kind to arbitrarily give someone a position, and she always gave credit where credit was due.
"If McGonagall put Malfoy in charge, she must've had some judgement behind it," Hermione reasoned, "So I suppose it wouldn't hurt to just ask her about it."
"Good," Ron agreed, "I'll come with you."
"You most certainly will not, Ronald Weasley," Hermione replied, "The last thing we need is you getting us on McGonagall's bad side - and don't you look at me like that, you know it's true. As soon as you open your mouth you'll say something out of line and she'll dock house points. Besides, this is a delicate enough matter as it is."
"That was some Sorting," Ron said through a mouthful of roast chicken, "We've got a good lot this year."
"So have other houses," Hermione agreed, "And none of the first years look at all gloomy. In fact, they're positively beaming."
As she spoke, Hermione noticed a first year giving her a horrid look, but she decided to ignore that. The Sorting always reminded Hermione of her first arrival at Hogwarts. She'd read loads before coming, and she'd known in advance which houses she'd want to be sorted into.
Ravenclaw, Hermione remembered, It had seemed the perfect place for me. Other people who loved to learn, students who shared my interest in higher thought.
She smiled as she recalled the Sorting Hat persuading her otherwise. It had pecked at her one insecurity, that one detail that made her more suited for Gryffindor than she had dreamt.
Hermione was an activist. Bigots and inequality made her angry. She would be the one to fight for what's right, to stand tall in the face of injustice. That's what made Hermione a Gryffindor.
"What's that Malfoy is doing?" Harry asked. Harry was sitting erect on the bench and his elbows were resting just off the table. He was glaring straight at Malfoy, who was sneering and making gestures about his head.
Hair, Hermione realized, He's miming hair.
Despite the blotches of heat building high in her cheekbones, Hermione squared her shoulders. She wasn't going to let Malfoy's usual business ruin dinner for her. Hermione was just glad that her closest friends hadn't been lost in the war. She was also glad that the Ministry was requiring a repeat of last year's material. Hermione knew that she would be able to make it if they'd tossed her into the real world - she was a war hero, for Merlin's sake!
But Hermione needed the familiar halls. The castle had already started repairing itself. New secrets lay behind each gargoyle, new paths beneath each loose cobblestone, new surprises hidden by each portrait.
Hogwarts this year was to be more for recovery, for exploration, for finding herself, than for education. Hermione was going to go on a trip of self-discovery this year, and if Malfoy wanted to get in her way, she'd show him just how much she'd matured in the war. Breaking the rules hardly seemed like a challenge after the war.
Just as Hermione resolved not to let Malfoy ruin her last year at Hogwarts, the food disappeared from the table. Hermione wiped at her mouth as McGonagall took the podium.
McGonagall cleared her throat and scanned the student body. She rose an eyebrow at Malfoy, who was still smirking about something, nodded at Luna, who looked happily up in return, and finally made eye contact with Hermione. Hermione smiled warmly back, feeling a sudden rush of affection for her headmistress.
"Good evening, I hope you've eaten your fill. Now, to our new students, welcome, and to our old students, welcome back. Before I allow you to be off, I must impart a few points of significance. As a clarification, all the staff will be repeating their last year's curriculum as past circumstances were unsuitable for teaching. First years and second years will have classes together. The rest of you will remain the same. Regulations, however, will now be based on age rather than year.
Last year was difficult for all of us, but I want to remind you all that no matter which side you fought for, no matter who you fought against, no matter whose death you hold yourself responsible for, you all earned your place in the Wizarding World. You all earned your welcome back to Hogwarts.
This year, you will all be making the extra effort to mend divisions between the houses and to be open to each other's opinions. You will find that, regardless of house, classes, and schedule, there is an extra hour added to your lunch. This is not, I repeat, not a free period.
During this hour, you will spend your time interacting with peers of other houses.
Together, we will heal the breaks which caused so much destruction in the past. Let the terror of Voldemort -" there were audible gasps as she said the name "- fall to ruin and let us move forward towards a greater future.
"But for now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could ask for. Heads and Prefects, please guide the first years to their dormitories. Goodnight."
The benches slid back and Ron came round to Hermione's side.
"An entire hour of socializing with Slytherins? A whole bloody hour?" he hissed, "I haven't got the stomach to do it for a minute, let alone an hour!"
Hermione nodded. "I know what you mean, Ron," she gave a glance over her shoulder to where she knew a certain blonde was leading the Slytherin first years, "I'll be spending a very long time with one in specific."
"Ah, Miss Granger, just who I'd wanted to see today," McGonagall called out, "I hope you enjoyed your dinner."
Hermione didn't bother asking how McGonagall knew she was there. The castle was full of secrets and McGonagall was the stern mother of Hogwarts.
"Of course, Headmistress," Hermione agreed, "But I did have a question - a question about the Headboy?"
"You'll be wanting to know why I chose Mister Malfoy. Would it surprise you to know that he was in just earlier with the same question? Well, you see, that's partially the reason why I'd wanted to meet with you. I knew you'd be wondering, and I knew that you knew I wouldn't take kindly to being questioned."
Hermione nodded in agreement.
"Interhouse Unity, Miss Granger," McGonagall asserted, "It's a played card, but a necessary one. You two are Heads from opposing houses. It would do you well to lead your peers in uniting as one Hogwarts. Besides, it is not as if Mister Malfoy is unqualified for the job. He has marks to rival your own and is an overall good student."
Looking down at her fingers, Hermione bit her lip. She understood the importance of Interhouse Unity, but that didn't mean she had to like it.
McGonagall was giving her a hard look.
"Mister Malfoy will be here in a few minutes, Miss Granger," she said, "I'd suggest you come to terms with this arrangement."
Hermione looked up, startled. Malfoy was coming here?
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind then there came a knock at the door. Malfoy stepped inside, his eyes down but his posture perfect.
"Ah, Mister Malfoy," McGonagall greeted him, "Take a seat. We'll be discussing your living arrangements."
Hermione shifted nervously. She heard a tapping sound. Glancing around the room, she finally noticed Malfoy's leg vibrating against his chair.
"Living arrangements, Headmistress?" he asked.
"Well, yes, of course. You didn't expect to be staying in the same place, did you?" McGonagall replied. Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "You'll be staying in the Head Dorms. There will be a common room, a study, a bathroom, and two separate bedrooms for you to use. Under normal circumstances, I would warn you against inappropriate behavior, but these circumstances are hardly normal."
A shared bathroom. They'd need a shower schedule. Beside her, she heard Malfoy muttering something about schedules and organization.
"Your living area will be located on the seventh floor behind "Barnabas the Barmy and the Ogres." The password is "Serpentine Flames." The study will have a separate entrance - the gargoyle on the sixth floor - for Prefects and the like. The password to your study will Interhouse Unity until two weeks into the term. At this time, you may decide on a more secure password.
"Are there any questions?" McGonagall finished.
Hermione gave Malfoy a glance. When he said nothing, she answered for the both of them.
"It appears not, headmistress."
McGonagall smiled and dismissed them. Had Hermione looked back, she would have seen McGonagall's gaze follow her out the room and into the hall.