A/N I know that it's been absolutely forever since i last posted but here it is. 4k words and I paln to post more and more often. Love you xxx -Kenya
By the time Hermione had gotten to the dining hall all of the new students had been sorted.
She sat down between Ginny and Neville, the both of them shooting her worried glances, and questioning stares. It was not like her to be late.
Back at the train she had done all that she could to make it seem like she hadn't been crying, but without her wand there wasn't all that much that could be done. Her sadness and helplessness had slowly festered into hate during her time alone.
She hating herself for being a sappy sod, she hated herself for letting malfoy see her display any emotions other than pure contempt for him. Then she just hated Malfoy.
She turned quickly scanned the Slytherin table, her eyes zeroing in on the platinum blonde amongst the few students. She shot daggers at him and he looked up as if feeling them. He stared into her eyes intensely daring to smile at her. Hermione forced down the uncomfortable bubbling that was rising to her throat and almost growled. He had the gull to smile, of all things. They were not friends, they were enemies, and the scarred flesh on the inside of her arm helped her remember that.
She hated him. She would always hate him.
Malfoy's smile morphed into a wicked sneer, across the room, and Hermione found it fitting for the wicked monster he had inside. They were enemies and she preferred to keep it that way.
Clink, clink. Everyone's eyes found the source of the sound. McGonagall stood tall and proud at the podium with a chalice like glass and a metal fork in hand.
"Welcome students of Hogwarts." She said placing her utensils down in front of her. "All of us are proud to have you all here with us. This year will be very different than the last. I am sorry to say that rany of your would be peers are not going to be joining us this year. With less students and staff," Hermione only now noticed the four empty chairs behind McGonagall. Four teachers that had not survived the war. She couldn't help thinking of all the other kind hearted people that had fought beside her and the order, all those who fought with their lives to protect the school and it's students.
She bristled with sadness. Ginny noticed and laced her wiry fingers into hers. Hermione clutched the hand tightly, the warmth and love pulling her away from her sandness of the fallen.
She turned her attention back to the speech.
"Now that the newer students have been sorted, there are a few announcements that should be made. Both Slytherin dungeon and Gryffindor tower were destroyed in the terrible occurences of last year." She took a moment for the groans and the gasps of disbelief to pass from the two groups of students, before continuing with her announcement.
"Because of the lack of space you all will be placed differently. There is enough room for first year students to fill the empty beds in the other houses. Anyone of third year and under level will be split into the remaining beds in Hufflepuff house. Along with all of the sixth year Prefects.
"We expect you to treat our new guests with the kindness and the hospitality your house has been known for. The sixth year Prefects will move in as well to help the newer students get acquainted. Anyone between fourth and sixth years are to sleep in Ravenclaw. We hope that the air of intelligence will push some of you into studying as avidly as the students who lived there before you, and help you in your preparations for Newts. The 7th year Prefects will also be placed in that house to help keep the peace."
Hermione held Ginny's hand tighter when she felt the girl stiffen next to her. Ginny must be a Prefect this year, Hermione thought. Ginny nodded sensing the question that hadn't left Hermione's lips. Hermione smiled at the younger teen squeezing her hand a little tighter in congratulations.
"The remaining students will use the Room of Requirement as a sort of sleeping grounds. It will expand and change with occupants. I hope that the older students will be mature about the arrangement. It would be rather awkward to have an adult in their with you all so, it is up to you all to keep it clean and peaceful. Any of the Prefects are allowed to sleep with their own peer group if the Professor over seeing them allows it to be so. All students are required to still wear their house colors and their points will still be taken and added to their original houses, not the ones they sleep in.
"Of course the destroyed sections of the school are completely off limits to all students. If you are found frolicking in these forbidden places, your entire house will suffer major consequences, as well as a well served stint of detention for the rest of the year.
"Finally we have one more announcement. Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy please join me on stage."
Hermione felt bile rising in her stomach, tickling the inside of her throat as Neville shoved her. She rose to her feet. With each step towards the podium, her shoes grew heavier and heavier as the dread in her stomach rose like the hands of Inferi to wrap around her neck.
When both of her and the dastardly blonde stood uncomfortably on either side of McGonagall, she continued, beaming.
"I'm proud to announce that these two students will be the new heads of house. They will help me to oversee the entire school. They are allowed to award house points, as well as take them away from any they feel deserving. The rest of the Prefects can report to them, or ask them any questions. They will have their own quarters in the castle if any of you would like to speak with them."
The black 'Prefects' letters on each students badge swirled and blurred morphing into 'Head Boy' and 'Head Girl' as Hermione watched in horror. The news sinking into her as her panic rose.
McGonagall turned now to the students next to her, placing a friendly hand on each of their shoulders. Hermione tried to hide her utter horror while Draco stood stony faced. If the witch saw anything wrong with the students dispositions she did not let on.
"I hope you two will set the precedent for how the rest of the students shall act towards their new house mates."
Tendrils of dread spun a vortex in the center of Hermione's stomach and her heart seemed to have been sucked into it.
McGonagall announced the end of the speech and the beginning of the feast, but Hermione had no room to eat, with the bile and fear stewing inside her, slowly rising to fill her stomach and lungs. She watched the others eat, while her body still threatened to retch.
"Wow Hermione, you'll be stuck with Malfoy every night." Neville said gnawing on a thick meaty turkey leg. The disgusting smell of the grease flooded her senses and curdled the already uneasy contents of her stomach.
She stood up from her table quickly rushing to the girls lavatory. Ginny sent him an accusing glare and he opened his mouth still full of half-chewed food to ask "What I say?" Ginny punched the clueless boy in the arm and left the hall to try and find Hermione.
After violently emptying her stomach into an awaiting toilet bowl, Hermione washed her mouth out and cursed Malfoy for still having her wand. She'd have more than enough time to get it back when she spent the next year waking up in the same room with him. The thought sent her into another round of dry heaves over the wet sink.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Her curly hair was misbehaving wildly, creating a sort of protective cocoon around her face and neck. Her eyes were still red from her third bought of crying since reaching platform 9 and her cheeks were drained of color. She reached under the flowing faucet, splashing handfuls of water into her sickly looking facem wishing to wash away her self loathing.
She was a complete and other wreck, and she absolutely hated how sensitive she had become. Wars were supposed to toughen you up, not leave you emotionally distressed.
She looked at the pale expanse of skin on her forearm, and the throbbing purple letters etched into it, forever unhealing.
Battle scars were supposed to make you feel proud, not humiliated.
She rolled back up her sleeve, covering the marred flesh. The dagger Bellatrix had used to carve the hateful word in her skin was enchanted, her scars would never heal, no matter what salves she used or what enchantments she casted. The magical scar couldn't be covered by muggle make up either. Any attempts to lessen the hideous mark would cause hot flashes of pain that felt worse than any Cruciatus curse. That wasn't the only time it caused her pain, whenever was close to forgetting about the traumatic night spent in Malfoy Manor, it would throb in an unhelpful, painful reminder.
She could try to momentary push away all thoughts of the deranged woman who had treated her as less than human, but she couldn't keep away thoughts of her wicked nephew, not while she was expected to spend her nights with him.
As she stood in front of the mirror, looking at herself, she frowned. Her face was pitiful and it disgusted her. She slammed her fist into the ceramic sink, before slamming the water valve off. She wasn't about to let herself spiral out of control again. Her felt like angry hornets were trying to escape her stomach.
"No more crying Hermione. If you gave to share a dorm with Draco than you'll just have to make him as miserable as you are." She stated sternly to herself, wiping the excess water from her face.
"And you'll start by getting your wand back." She added, pushing herself away from the sink, stomping away from the mirror, and her former broken self. She didn't get too far before she had to stop again.
"Talking to ourselves? We aren't going crazy are we?" The shrill voice asked, amused. Hermione gasped and turned back towards the source of the voice. It was vaguely familiar and coming from the place she had just been standing. Curiosity outweighed her safety concerns as she reapproached the sink.
She looked down the drain skeptically. "Who's there? What do you want?" Hermione called. She half-thought she was going crazy, but it wasn't unlike Hogwarts to harbor secrets even from the most seasoned students.
She made up her mind after moments of silence before turning back around towards the door. She walked back towards the door, a lot less confident then she had done before. Her fingertips had barely grazed the bathroom door when the sink started to vibrate. No, not the sink, the pipes.
The metal clanged against the cold tile violently. Hermione was sure the sink would split open when a transparent whisp erupted from inside of it. Water too geysered upwards, showering Hermione with the foul smelling liquid.
"IT'S MEEEEE." The cloud called, spinning and spendeling into a form. The form of a girl.
"Myrtle! You scared the life out of me. You know better than to spy on people." Hermione chastised. The dirty sink water had stained her uniform and permeated her hair with the smell. She smelled of eggs and it was sickening.
"Well, you woke me up. I was having a nice nap when you came in here splashing me, and talking to yourself." Myrtle whined, her voice sounded weak and thin, like she'd been crying for years.
"I just thought I'd return the favor." She added coyly. The ghost spun around mid air. Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to walk away for the third time.
"I have been napping in that sink for almost year, no one came to visit me after the war. No one came to check if I was okay. Of course not. I'm just little old Myrtle. No one cares about me." She complained, sinking lower and lower towards the ground.
"Myrtle we were fighting Voldemort. Tom Riddle. He was the boy who killed you. Harry killed him. You should've helped in the fight against him instead of cowering in a storm drain." Hermione accused.
Myrtle gave her a wiry smile. "Harry? I remember Harry. I saw him naked, he looked nice naked."
Hermione bristled at the thought of Harry doing anything naked witth Myrtle, dead or alive. The ghost swirled around her sighing contently, no doubt thinking of Harry's naked body. Hermione sneered in disgust and left the bathroom. Slamming the door in the ghosts' face. She could hear Myrtle whimpering behind it before she briskly walked back towards the dining hall.
She had passed many sets of students, and reasonably she knew she should be trying to find the crop of Gryffindor first years and helping to get them to Hufflepuff. Instead, she pushed on to the emptying dining hall. She was glad to see Headmistress McGonagall overseeing a group of house elves collect them empty plates and platters from the tables.
"Headmistress, can I talk to you?" Hermione called across the empty room.
"Oh, Miss Granger, of course." The elderly witched turned towards her and walked to her awaiting student. "What would you like to ask, Hermione?"
The witch didn't stop her quick strides down the hall, while Hermione followed her down corridors and up staircases.
"Well Professor, I wanted to speak with you about my current sleeping situation. I don't feel that it's-."
"Fair?" McGonagall guessed. Hermione nodded trying to continue her well thought out argument for why sharing a room with Draco would be disastrous for all involved, and how it would most definitely end in one or both of them finding a gruesome and barbaric death at the hands of the other, instead the Professor continued to 'guess'.
"Yes, I know. I would love to put all the rest of the bedless students into that house. Unfortunately the portrait that hangs protecting it is all four of the school founders. They are all very strict about who can go in and out of those quarters. Even I am incapable of entering those confines. I just hope everyone will have a place to sleep tonight."
Professor McGonagall's face contorted into what looked like a mix pain and worry. The younger witch looked down on the floor, scolding herself for even thinking of being so selfish. Sure she would have to sleep in the same room as Draco, but her other classmates were forced to share with so many people that they would probably have to step over bodies just to get to the loo every morning. The guilt engulfed the sense of dread that had made a home in her stomach.
She couldn't even look her Professor in the eyes as she dismissed herself. She let the shame ebb away at her sense of horror, nagging at herself as she made her way towards her shared dorm. She hadn't even made herself useful today. McGonagall had asked for all of the Prefects to assist students to their common rooms, and she had spent most of her time behaving like a self-centered idiot, crying her eyes out and moaning over her 'terrible woes'.
The painting that she stood in front of was huge, roughly 10 feet tall and 6 feet wide. The frame was an enchanted oak with the house mascots etched into the dark wood. They slithered and prowled and burrowed and flocked in an endless square chasing each other eternally. The gryffin roared when she came near, announcing her presence and she marveled at the magnificent creature as it continued to chase the raven it would never catch. The frame though, was nothing compared to what was held inside.
Four larger than life people in delicate robes stood before her. Each outfit rung with the colors of the house they represented, each color seemed to be from a different error of time. The people, much like every magical portrait talked and moved as if they were still alive.
"I bet she will finally be a Hufflepuff!" squealed an excited witch, clapping her chubby hands together in glee in the middle of the group. The witch had dimples in her round faced. She jumped up and down, despite the way her rather large chest jumped with her.
" Oh, quite Helga. It's almost never a Hufflepuff. It's probably another Ssslytherin. We pride ourselvess on possessing power and seizing control."
This came from one of the men, dressed head to toe in a dark shimmering silver with green highlights, accented with black. Not only his robes, but his face portrayed him as the perfect Slytherin. His head was long and punctuated with a longer beard. His eyes were slanted, and they flashed green when he spoke of power and pride. He was intimidating and the way he slurred his S's sent a nervous chill down Hermione's back.
A loud chuckle emanated from the portrait next. It was a booming laugh, the kind that came from a booming man. That's exactly who stood before clutching his stomach. He looked almost unidentifiable from a lion, with a voluptuous sandy red beard that seemed to flow from his full hair. He had rosy cheeks and Hermione's brain fired up an image of an equally jolly fat man, who preferred his outfits red.
"There's no doubt it's one of my students. They have always proven their bravery by now. Just think about that lass everyone was talking about last year. 'Harry Potter'." The loud voice rung with pride as if Harry was his own son.
"He was able to summon my sword 3 times since he got here. I'm sure someone else must be following in his heroic footsteps. Shame he never got the chance to step through these painting. He would have made an incredible leader."
"I am for certain that it is a Gryffindor this year, but not Harry, one of his friends." Hermione's eyes fell upon the woman in the simple midnight blue gown, with her long dark hair and shocking blue eyes she possessed the air of a queen. Her voice had quitted all the other founders.
"Really, Rowena. Divination? Again? Didn't you try and use that last year to it's complete failure?" Slytherin asked, his voice was sharp and teasing, as if he had heard the witch make many false predictions.
The lady in blue narrowed her eyes at the wizard next to her. "Don't be so dismissive of the art of divination, Sal, I recall providing more than one adequate prophecy that were key to saving your life. Especially with that rancid snake you had lurking around the school. Did the entrance really have to be in the girls lavatory?"
"You old creep!" The boisterous laughter seemed to resonate in Godric's large gut, as he clapped a large paw on the wiry old man's shoulder. Slytherin shrunk under the heavy touch, his eyes narrowing at the pair.
"I'm glad someone finally sees it my way, Rowena. I wonder if she's pretty, the last Gryffindor girl was a little hard in the eyes." Gryffindor joked.
"I think she's rather beautiful. I really like her curly brown hair." Hermione beamed proudly and caught the playful wink the other witch shot at her. She wasn't predicting the future, she was noticing the present. Hermione took another step toward the towering picture, clearing her throat loudly.
"Oh my Rowena! She is quite deliciou!. She looks sweet enough to eat! I don't even mind that she isn't a Hufflepuff!" Helga cooed, and Hermione was sure if the witch could escape the painting, she would swoop her into her arms and cradle into her bosom.
"Hermione Granger!" Godric bellowed. "I recognize you from the Gryffindor common room, quite he studier you are. I used to think you belonged in Rowena's house." He chuckled again.
"I would have loved to have you but your efforts during the war certainly prove you belong amongst the bravest of Gryffindor." Rowena commended her, smiling down on the witch before her.
"Thank you both, anyone would be absolutely honored to be in any of your houses. The school is beautiful. You all must be very proud."
They all broke out in courses of 'thank you's and 'of course it is's.
Hermione yawned inadvertently and quickly tried to cover her mouth apologizing for the rude action.
"Oh no, it's alright darling. It must've been a hard day, you just go right in and we'll send in a house elf with some breakfast in the morning." Helga said, prepared to dote on the new resident of the dorm room.
Before Hermione could refuse the painting split down the middle forming a door. Hermione sighed and stepped into to it, greeting the warmth that hit her face as she entered the common room. The steady blaze making her feel even more tuckered out. The founder had been right. She had had a long day.
She climbed the leftmost staircase, where her dorm would have been last year. She kicked off her flats and walked towards the single bed, peeling off her skirt and robes as she went. Each clothing item seemed to weigh thousands of pounds, and releasing herself from them was a delightful release.
She unclipped her bra sighing at the freeness the action permitted her. She hooked her thumbs around her waistband yanking them down and off her body. She collapsed into the soft sheets of the bed rolling herself into them, before pulling them up and sliding herself underneath them. Moaning softly as she drifted off of sleep.