Seasons of Love, glee :3
"He looks different." Ginny commented over dinner that night in the Great Hall.
I frowned. "Who?" I asked through a haze, looking up from my goblet of pumpkin juice.
She laughed. "Draco, silly." She was looking over my shoulder so I turned, slowly to follow her gaze. Across the hall, Draco was seated at his table, but I idly noticed he was sitting alone. "Doesn't he look different?"
I nodded, spooning soup into my mouth slowly. "You mean even more tortured than in sixth year when he was plotting our Headmaster's death?" My voice dripped snark, but I didn't care. The fact that I would be essentially living with Draco made me nauseous. I'd tried to thwart Harry's attempts at claiming Draco's being a Death Eater sixth year and was proved wrong and it'd been a bitter pill to swallow. After that, when he walked into Voldemort's arms at the Battle of Hogwarts the scab was ripped from it's fresh wound.
"Hermione!" Ginny tried to protest, but I could see she was really laughing.
"You know I'm right, Ginny!" I insisted, turning from where I'd been watching Draco's - likely - self imposed soletary confinement.
She nodded, turning her geze to mine once again. "I know but still."
"Can we just talk about something else?" I asked, poking at the shimmering piece of baked chicken on my plate.
"Of course." She answered, but soon we lapsed into silence. I sighed, glancing around at the first years with a sad fondness. Those were kids that were to only read about the trials of the last decade in books. Yes, they'd heard their parents whispering in the kitchen after dinner, but their wide eyed gaze had been guarded from the newspaper articles. They'd not seen the horror. They hadn't seen this very school in shambles as I had. For that I was envious yet I was still glad for them.
I looked around the room and saw ghosts of the Battle. The castle had been restored to it's former greatness, but for those of us that were there - or maybe it was just me - the entire castle lie in memorial to those lost. It's beauty was only intensified by remembering it's broken form.
"Hermione!" Ginny's voice startled me from my thoughts. "You okay?"
I swallowed, nodding. "Yeah, I'm good." It wasn't a lie. I was good. Just distracted.
She laughed. "Okay, well, dinner's over." She was standing on the other side of the table, looking down at me with a little smirk. "You not hungry?"
I nodded. "Yeah, must've eaten too much from the Trolley." I smiled, standing and following through the crowds of students until we met at the end of the table.
She smiled, linking her arm with mine. "Ready for your first night in Head Quarters'?"
"No one calls it that." I answered with a smirk.
"Well I do." She grinned, releasing my arm and at the foot of the staircase. She wiggled her eyebrows and stepped onto the top step. "Good night Granger. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." She joked before bolting off up the stairs. The very idea made me shiver.
The trek to "Head Quarters'" as Ginny so lovingly put it was a series of right turns past classrooms to the very back of the school. These hallways were vacant, the rest of the students heading toward their respective common rooms. Eventually, the corridor bottomed out into what appeared to be a dead end, but I reached into my robes and pulled out my wand, tapping the bare wall. There was a shudder and the wall morphed into tall double doors.
I exhaled, opening the door slowly. I didn't know if Draco was here yet or not, but when the doors fully opened I saw an empty common room. It was comfortably large with a plush couch in the center across from a brewing fire and a couple of arm chairs. In front of me in the entry was two trunks, one mine, the other Draco's. I grabbed my trunk, pulling it after me toward my door - clearly marked with a newly made name plate - in order to be hidden away before Draco so much as crested the door, but I wasn't that lucky. Just as my hand grazed the brass door nob, the giant doors opened and I was no longer alone. I froze, hand gripping the nob. "Draco." I greeted icily, but he slipped inside without the slightest malice.
"Hermione." He was picking up his own trunk, rolling it over to his door directly across from mine. I don't think he'd ever called me Hermione. It was a strange sound. His voice wrapped around my name like a vice and I felt a shiver ran up my spine. I wouldn't admit it to anyone, but I liked it.
I wavered at the door for a moment and then slipped behind it to avoid his probing stare.
Oh, wouldn't it be lovely if I knew where I was going with this? :)