Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Chapter 4
The rest of Hermione's time in the compartment with her friends was for the most part uneventful. Ron, Harry, and Ginny had recalled numerous events during that summer at the burrow. Ron, she had learned, had snuck to an empty compartment with Lavender Brown and would be back before they disembarked. Hermione shuddered and tried her best to prevent any images from coming into her head. There was a time when she would have wished she was Lavender Brown, but that was also the time when Hermione found his lack of manners, gluttony, and absence of any direction in his life charming.
"And that's how Ron ended up eating a muggle feletone in an alleyway!" giggled Ginny.
"For God's sakes it's telephone," thought Hermione, but instead she chose to avoid conflict and gave a fake chuckle. She was a bit bitter about not being invited, but she knew that Ron and the rest of the Weasley's probably thought she wanted to spend time with her parents. Her bitterness was completely eclipsed by both the sorrow she felt at their loss and the joy she felt knowing that this decision had allowed her to spend her parents' last month with them. Having caught up with her friends, Hermione decided that this was the best time to take her leave and report to the head's compartment to begin her duties as head girl.
She was disappointed as she walked out, knowing that their lack of action had indicated neither Harry nor Ron was head boy. "Maybe it's a hufflepuff, or a ravenclaw," she thought. "Yes, Professor McGonagall matched me with a ravenclaw I'm sure, after all we'd get along famously." Hermione skipped off under a sense of false security, well aware of the sinking feeling in her stomach that confirmed that this year's head boy would most certainly not be a ravenclaw.
Hermione made her way to the compartment, which was a notch above the rest. The plush red seats sparkled as if they had just been replaced, and the gilded silver curtains sparkled in the sunlight. Temporarily cheered by the absence of green, Hermione took a seat and waited for the head boy and prefects to arrive.
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Draco continued on through the train, enjoying his last few moments of happiness and a mostly Granger-free life. Subconsciously, it wasn't much of a shift, because all Draco had been thinking of since he boarded the train was the way Hermione looked in her Hogwarts uniform. He glanced down at the green and silver patch on his chest. The serpent, shown in all it's glory, was emblazoned directly above the metallic emerald writing that indicated Draco's head boy position. This very patch could be seen on all 28 sets of Draco's robes. He couldn't be bothered to have his laundry done more than once every 4 weeks, so why wear your robes more than once if it's just as easy to buy more?
Finally, Draco arrived at the compartment as his worst fears were realized. There, sitting silently was the one and only Hermione Granger. Trying to make excuses, Draco searched her robes for further confirmation of her head girl status. He found the patch and squinted, able to discern the words 'head girl' on the maroon and gold emblem. He let out an 'aggh' and Hermione whipped her head around to stare at the surprising noise.
"Stop staring at my chest Malfoy!" Hermione spat out, frantically pulling her robe across her sweater.
Draco's gaze lingered for a few more seconds, until he snapped out of stupor. "Like your chest would ever be good enough for my eyes, mudblood." Draco made sure to emphasize his last word, saying it with as much venom as he could muster. Hermione simply blew his comment off, and instead chose to change the subject.
"I'm sure McGonagall will be here soon. Just sit your arse down."
Draco began to walk into the compartment and Hermione snickered when she saw him falter, having tripped on the track that the door to the compartment ran on. Draco simply glared back, and pretended as though nothing had happened. They were locked in each other's gaze, unable to turn away for fear of winning the war.
"His eyes are so intense," Hermione thought to herself. "They're almost…hypnotizing." Hermione further examined Draco's features. "Not bad for a prick. He's actually rather…handsome. OHMIGOD. I did not just say that Draco Malfoy was handsome. Aaarrrgghh. He most definitely is not handsome, he's ugly, sallow, obnoxious…" Hermione continued her silent debate, her gaze unaffected by her mental struggle. Draco had similar thoughts to Hermione's, taking the opportunity as an excuse to look at her new body. Their stares were interrupted, however, when McGonagall gave a sharp cough to inform the arch nemeses of her presence. The two broke apart to look at the teacher, each somewhat thankful for her timely appearance. The transfiguration professor was followed by the 5th year prefects, all of whom were for the most part unfamiliar to Draco and Hermione. McGonagall introduced each pair, and once all 8 were acquainted with the heads, began her lecture.
"Being a head or a prefect is a privilege, not a right!" stressed the professor. "Don't think I won't remove you from your position if I catch in any conduct unbefitting of a student leader." McGonagall droned about the importance of respect and cooperation and Hermione hung onto every word. Draco continued looking at the enchanting scenery that lay just outside his window, barely paying attention, and some of the prefects were even nodding off, their heads snapping back into attention whenever McGonagall emphasized a particular word or raised her volume. After 20 minutes, she finished her tirade and with a wave of her hand dismissed the drowsy fifth years.
"Now you two," started McGonagall. "I don't want to see anything from either of you. I know your relationship is strained (both students snickered, strained was the understatement of the century) but I expect you to work together. I'm not going to say that our desire for inter-house unity in times such as these didn't play a role the headmaster's choices for the head positions, but each of you are still fitted for your roles."
Hermione and Draco each gave a subservient nod and McGonagall turned on her heel, preparing to ready the first years for their daunting passage onto the grounds of the school.
Draco, slightly angry at the fact that he had just been talked to like a child for the past 25 minutes, decided to take said anger out on Hermione.
"Out of my way mudblood," Draco spat. "How your parents tolerate someone as worthless as you I'll never know."
A mixture of fury and sadness washed over Hermione, who deciding not to leak weak in front of Malfoy, attempted to allow only the fury to show. She turned on Draco like lightning, pulling her wand out of the pocket in her skirt so fast he didn't even see it. Hermione turned on Malfoy and despite the six inches he had on her 5'6" frame she towered over him. Tears forming in her eyes, she managed to yell at him with as much volume and power as she had. "Don't you DARE talk about my parents Malfoy!" She swiftly turned back around, storming out of the compartment trying to hide the tears that were running down her face. But Draco had seen them glistening at the corners of her eyes. He was frightened by her reaction, which was the very least unexpected. He felt a pang of guilt, something that rarely ever happened. His conscience was getting the better of him. "How would you react if someone badmouthed your mother?" it questioned him. Angry at the victory of morality, he stormed back to his own compartment, wondering what had happened that would make her respond that way.
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Hermione choked back her tears, wiping them off her face in efforts to erase any evidence of her emotion before returning to the compartment where her friends were. She saw not one, but two redheads and realized that Ron had returned from his marathon snogging session with one Gryffindor's resident gossip queen. Only slightly disheveled, he had managed to grow another two inches over the summer and now stood at a staggering 6'4".
"You all right Hermione?" questioned Harry. He noticed the redness around her eyes and her saddened state as she stepped into the compartment.
"Yes, I'm fine," she said, as if trying to convince herself. Harry decided not to press the matter. Per usual, Ron was completely oblivious to Hermione's feelings and gave her a hearty welcome with a romance-induced grin that seemed permanently etched on his face. Ginny, like Harry, noted Hermione's state and made a mental note to ask her about it later. The four young people felt the train come to a halt, and Hermione shot out of the door, eager not to be late for her very first duties as head girl.