(A/N: Summer has passed, and we'll find out what happened during that time later. This is the start of the new term.)
Hermione had always loved the Hogwarts Express. It wasn't the first time she'd ridden the train without her best friends – second year came to mind – but it was different this time. After giving directions to the Prefects – she had been made Head Girl this year – Hermione left the designated compartment to make the rounds. Things were a little different this year, as both Ginny and Luna were among the Prefects, and Neville – having never been one – had been made Head Boy. Instead of finding a compartment with them, they decided to just return to the one they had been given after they patrolled the corridor for a little while.
When she returned, a quick glance around the compartment told her that she was alone, so she pulled out a quill and her journal and started to write.
I left off last time with the War ending. After that, I went back to the Burrow with Ron and Harry, but didn't stay long. I had to find my parents. I knew that they were somewhere in Australia, but where, exactly, I wasn't sure. I started by going back to the house I'd grown up in. I knew my parents still owned it – they didn't know that though. As far as they knew, they had sold it before they moved – but I had to make sure it was safe before bringing them back.
The compartment door slid open at that point, and Hermione was greeted with a mocking drawl. "Already doing homework, Granger?"
"For your information, no, I am not." If I knew what the homework was, it would be done by now, she added mentally. "What are you doing in here, Malfoy?"
He raised his eyebrows. "I'm a Prefect. Don't tell me you've forgotten?" He sat down across from her.
"No, I just didn't think you'd be going back to Hogwarts this term," she replied honestly.
A glower crossed the boy's face. "It wasn't exactly my choice," he muttered, wishing he had a better excuse. The initial dread he had felt at the prospect of returning to school was returning with a vengeance.
It was Hermione's turn to raise her eyebrows. "Oh, no? Mummy decided for you?"
Draco met her eyes, wondering when she had become so mocking. Anything he could have or would have said was cut off when the compartment door slid open again and Luna wandered in, her eyes taking in Hermione and Draco before she spoke.
"Hermione, this little guy was running around the hallway. I think he's rather cute but you probably should be the one to take care of it." She pulled a Pygmy Puff off of her shoulder and handed it to Hermione. "Ginny has one, you know, so if you don't like them, she'll take him until the owner claims him."
"Thanks, Luna. I'll take him around with me as we get closer to the school and see if anyone has lost him." She smiled at the girl, who was still glancing between her and Draco. "Or maybe I'll just go now."
"Oh, don't let me interrupt you. I was afraid that he might attract Wrackspurts and I've kept them away for so long. But don't worry. He'll be safe in here." With that she turned around and wandered back out into the hallway, leaving Hermione and Draco sitting there staring at the little ball of fluff.
No one claimed the Pygmy Puff, something Hermione found rather odd. Nevertheless, when she collected the things she was taking off the train, she scooped him up, along with the beaded bag she had carried around the previous year. She couldn't help but notice that Malfoy hadn't left the Prefects' compartment, even after most of the others had wandered off to sit with their friends. She didn't really give it a second thought, until they were all leaving, because shortly after Luna left, he had gone and sat off in a corner section by himself. She, on the other hand, had been joined by Ginny and Neville at first, and Luna when she wandered back. A couple others joined them, but Hermione had spent a great deal of time staring out the window herself.
Draco left the train feeling drained. The whole trip had been a mental argument about why he hadn't said more than he did to Granger. His bloody subconscious was at work again, telling him that the people that relied heavily on blood purity had ended up in Azkaban over the summer. His mind countered with the reminder of the fading but still there tattoo on his arm. The one that represented who he had become. Who you would have become, his subconscious argued. It doesn't define you. Not anymore. This is your chance to make something of yourself without using the Malfoy name to do it.
This argument had kept him sitting alone for the remainder of the train ride. He could have joined the older Slytherins that had been forced to return as well, but he knew that their comments about the War and the looming term wouldn't help his internal debate. He was silent as he started towards the carriages, but didn't refrain from pushing the younger children out of his way. He got all the way to the waiting carriage before he realized something was different. He could see the threshal. In that moment, Blaise Zabini strolled up next to him and said something about being surprised to see him, after having missed him on the train. Draco wasn't listening to his friend – or the closest thing he had to a friend. He was simply staring at the creature that he could finally see, wishing he couldn't.
He hadn't killed the old man. He had simply seen it happen. The same with the teacher. The same with everyone else that had died in the last year. Yet that's all it took to see these creatures. Being at the wrong place at the wrong time.
"Malfoy." Blaise said again. Draco snapped out of it and turned to the boy standing next to him.
"Zabini. Are you waiting for an invitation?" He gestured towards the carriage. Blaise gave Draco a searching look, but dropped it quickly before climbing into the carriage, Draco following shortly behind.
Hermione sat with Ginny and Neville at the Gryffindor table. McGonagall was Headmistress this term, but Hermione wasn't really listening as she gave the welcome back speech. To her, no one but Dumbledore should be speaking right now. Her eyes involuntarily crossed the room to Malfoy. He was staring at his empty plate, and though she knew that he was technically innocent of the crime that many in the Great Hall blamed him for, she still couldn't help but feel like it was partially his fault.
That's normal, she thought. You and Malfoy have never been friends. In fact, you've never been less than enemies. He was the one to taunt and tease you at every chance he got. Hating him is perfectly acceptable.
But for some reason, in the back of her mind, she felt a little bad about it.
(A/N: For those of you that went to my profile and saw the virtual cupcakes…I've decided that every so often I'll put up a new kind of dessert but ONLY IF PEOPLE REVIEW. So check back! Also, I may be bumping the rating up to M. Haven't decided yet but I'll know soon.)