Chapter 2

Apprehension gripped Hermione as she stood outside the train compartment containing the twenty-odd assortment of prefects who had returned to school. She picked at her new school robes, feeling suddenly self-conscious in them. A year away from school had felt more permanent than she realized.

"Granger."

The cool voice sent goosebumps prickling her arms. Hermione slowly turned to him, prepared for that punch-worthy smirk she'd grown to loathe. Instead, she found Malfoy gazing at her with a look of uncertainty that she more than understood.

"Malfoy," she finally spit out without malice. She refused to look away, assuming he'd find her weak if she did so-and she was not going to start out the year with that prat thinking he could walk all over her.

"Are you going to go in, or are we going to stand here all day?" he finally said with a hint of irritation.

Hermione frowned. "I don't know what McGonagall told you, but I am not happy with this arrangement, and I will not hesitate to inform her about the slightest infraction on your part. Are we clear?"

"Rehearse that all day?" he asked, eyes narrowing.

Anger bubbled in her stomach, but the accuracy of his question left her too flustered to respond immediately. When she finally opened her mouth, he cut her off.

"I don't know what McGonagall told you," he said, "But I won't be your little lap dog, obeying your every command. I will do what I must to get through this year, even if it means working with Potter's girlfriend, but I won't be humiliated in the process."

Hermione glared at him, knowing she had lost the upper hand she had strategized about for days.

"Now shall we?" he asked, bowing slightly and waving his hand out in a mock gesture.

"You're still a pompous ass," she said.

"And I'm positive you're still a pretentious know-it-all."

Gripping the wand hidden in her robes, Hermione exhaled slowly. The laughter of their classmates from inside the compartment drifted under the door. She had let Malfoy get the better of her too many times. She couldn't let this get out of control so soon.

"Despite our disagreements," she said, "I ask that you not insult me in front of the others. It would undermine everything Headmistress McGonagall is striving towards."

Draco eyed her cautiously. "Only if you extend the same courtesy."

"Of course."

With some semblance of a truce in place, Hermione reached for the compartment door. Her hand hesitated for a moment.

"And I'm not 'Potter's girlfriend'," she said before yanking at the latch.

Twenty pairs of eyes turned on the two as they entered the compartment. The room stretched the length of the train car, the largest compartment of the Hogwarts Express always reserved for the first prefect meeting of the year. Hermione scanned the faces scattered across the room; she recognized most of them, could guess the names of those she hadn't met before thanks to the roster in her bag.

With a jolt, she remembered her first meeting here as a fifth year. Ron had fallen asleep next to her, despite Hermione jabbing him periodically, but had awoken when Malfoy had made some snide remark about being lost without Potter to boss them around. Ron would have definitely thrown a curse or a punch by now at the blonde-haired man standing behind her.

Only a handful of students from that meeting were present now. Hermione moved across the room, nodding at them: Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott representing Hufflepuff, and Padma Patil whose Ravenclaw counterpart hadn't returned. Hermione had worried that the repeat seventh years would skew the numbers, leaving her with much more work dividing the usual duties, but the absence of some in the year below had nearly evened things out.

"We may as well begin," Hermione said, pulling out stacks of parchments from her bag and passing them around. "Here are your schedules. They are enchanted to mirror any changes made to my own copy, so please check them often. You'll see that they are color-coded by house."

Malfoy scoffed. When he caught Hermione glaring at him, he shrugged as if he couldn't help it.

"This year we have been tasked with extra patrol duties due to the shortage of professors," Hermione continued. "You will also be expected to help with some of the rebuilding efforts around the castle."

"It hasn't been cleaned up?" Hannah asked.

Hermione detected discomfort and even fear in both her face and those around her. No one wanted the constant reminder of the battle.

"The more common areas of the castle have been repaired," Hermione said. "Some smaller work remains."

"Why am I paired with her?" asked a freckled girl, staring at her parchment. Hermione recognized her as a sixth year Ravenclaw and knew without looking who she had been partnered with.

"Under Headmistress McGonagall's guidance, patrol pairings will not be assigned by house anymore, but on a random basis" said Hermione. "She has instituted a series of measures meant to foster inter-house unity, including no longer sitting with our houses at all meals, which will begin sometime after the sorting."

"Is that why he's back?" asked Ernie.

Hermione felt the room tense. Ernie didn't have to point to let everyone know who he meant. Before Hermione could respond, Malfoy stepped around her.

"I'm here for the same reason you are, MacMillan," he shot at the glaring boy. "To take my NEWTs and get on with my goddam life."

Ernie shot out of his seat. "You should be in Azkaban."

"The Wizengamot said otherwise," Malfoy said cooly.

"Death Eater!"

The room erupted in shouting.

Hermione ran a hand over her face. She knew this would happen eventually, but she was hoping not to have to deal with it so soon.

"Can we please calm down!" Hermione yelled, gripping her wand.

To her surprise, her classmates quieted and sat down. Hermione felt the weight of her position. These people trusted her, looked up to her, maybe even idolized her as the Chosen One's best friend.

"Hermione," Ernie said quietly, "You can't expect us to forget what happened-to act all chummy with someone who fought for Voldemort."

Hermione glanced at Malfoy, whose pale knuckles had turned even whiter on his clenched fists. She didn't know if it was anger or embarrassment or self-restraint keeping his mouth closed, but she was grateful for whatever it was.

"McGonagall has welcomed Malfoy back," she said. "I trust her judgment. You can take it up with the headmistress if you have any problems."

"Well she must be right," drifted Luna's voice from a corner. "McGonagall has never led us astray before." Hermione had initially not noticed the blonde, although she didn't know how now that she saw the radish shaped earrings hanging from her ears, enchanted to blink varying shades of pink and red. Hermione felt immense gratitude for the friendly face among the sea of skeptical ones.

No one else spoke as the train rattled on the tracks and the countryside whipped by outside the windows.

"Alright," Hermione finally said. "I guess we're done."

As conversations broke out amongst the others, Malfoy darted for the door, and Hermione followed, compelled by a sense of duty to say something.

"Malfoy!" she called down the hallway at his quickly retreating figure.

He turned on his heel, and she nearly ran into him.

"What?" he spat.

"Are-are you okay?"

"And why would you care?" he asked, a vein in his forehead visibly pulsing.

Hermione remembered the sneer in his voice when he had called her a mudblood, the humiliation that flooded her body when he had cursed her teeth to grow and grow. She thought about how satisfying the crush of his nose under her fist had felt. More importantly, she saw Dumbledore's body lying crumpled in the grass, knowing it was, at least partially, Malfoy's fault.

"I don't know," she said honestly.

Malfoy glared at her for a moment before turning away and slamming through the door to the next train car.

Hermione groaned and pulled her hands down her cheeks. How would she get through a year of this?