A/N: Finally, it's here! Sorry for the delay, life took over for a little while.
Thank you to everyone who has read so far, and and even bigger thank you to all my reviewers! You guys are amazing!
xBx
~ Chapter 10: Welcome...home? ~
By the time the carriages had pulled up outside Hogwarts, Hermione had managed to push back the memories trying desperately to break free, and she was now confidently wearing her well practiced smile, giving the impression everything was perfect with her, and she had not a care in the world. As she vacated the carriage and caught another glimpse of the thestrals, she refused to think of Severus' death and the many others that had occurred that night; as she walked up into the grand entrance hall she wouldn't let her mind see the carnage that had filled the space that night only a few months ago, and when she walked between the tables in the Great Hall, to find a seat at the Gryffindor table, she ignored the memories of the lifeless bodies of so many friends and peers that had been laid out there.
Hermione and Ginny found seats roughly halfway down the table, where they joined three of the returning seventh years. Hermione sat down next to Parvati Patil, facing Neville Longbottom and Dean Thomas.
"Blimey, Hermione." Dean said as Ginny and Hermione took their seats next to one another. "We didn't think you'd be coming back."
Hermione looked at him in confusion, "Why do you say that?" She asked.
It was Neville who answered, "We were just discussing possible returnees: We thought you of all people would be accepted into the ministry without taking your NEWT's and even if you did need to get your NEWT's we assumed you'd sit them in August."
"Yeah," seconded Parvati, "With your brain, you could have taken them in our sixth year." She said. "But I'm glad you're back all the same." She added with a genuine smile.
Hermione smiled at the compliments, "I could have been accepted into an internship at the ministry," She admitted to them, "But I wanted to finish my education properly. Plus I wasn't sure which department I really want to work in." She told them – it was partly true at least, but they didn't need to know the real reason for her return.
Before she could say anything else, the Great Hall feel silent as Headmistress McGonagall stood to begin the sorting ceremony. Hagrid led the new batch of first years down the hall, all looking rather nervous and intimidated, before taking his own seat at the table. Hermione smiled and waved discreetly, as filch was placing the old familiar three-legged stool carrying the worn and frayed Sorting Hat.
Within moments the old tear at the brim opened and the Sorting Hat began it's usual song. Hermione smiled as she listened: this year's song was more light-hearted than the last few she had heard, however there was a blatant warning at the end about remembering our past mistakes and moving forward with unity. And instead of dwelling too much on the differences that separates the four houses, the hat instead devoted a few lines to their similarities, as if to impress upon the students that they were, in fact, all very much alike.
The sorting took longer than usual, having an extra handful of students who weren't invited to the fold last year. Glancing at the tiny first years, Hermione soon recognised the girl that had introduced herself at Flourish and Blotts. When the girl's name was called, Ginny likewise recognised her and gave Hermione a playful nudge in the ribs, giggling mischievously when the Sorting Hat shouted "Gryffindor!"
As verity almost ran to the Gryffindor table, she caught Hermione's eye and waved. Hermione smiled and waved back politely. Neville and Dean shot her questioning looks, to which Hermione just shook her head, but Ginny hissed with a grin:
"That's Hermione's super-fan." Hermione simply glared at her and elbowed her in the ribs.
Finally, the last students took their place at their new house table, and McGonagall stood to address the school.
"To our new intakes, welcome to Hogwarts and to returning students, welcome back. Last year was a hard year, the school was more like a prison than a home, and we suffered many losses, but we survived. This year we move forward, we start again." She told them bracingly,
"Before we begin with the feast I have a few start of term notices: As everyone should know by now, the Forbidden Forest – as it's name suggests – is in fact out of bounds. For your own safety, please do not venture in there." She said with a hint of a sigh: Every year this reminder was given, and every year someone ended up in there, and McGonagall was starting to get a little tired of it, especially as the main culprits tended to be a certain group of Gryffindors.
Hermione Ginny and Neville exchanged guilty grins; they had ended up in there on various occasions – Hermione more often than the others, and they knew this reminder was particularly aimed at them.
"We have a couple of new staff appointments" McGonagall continued, returning to her usual brisk tone.
"Allow me to introduce Professor Allegra Emerald, our new Muggle Studies teacher." A polite patter of applause went around the hall as a middle-aged woman stood with a shy smile. McGonagall continued as Professor Emerald retook her seat.
"And secondly, Professor Avery Fidelis, who has agreed to take on the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, as well as taking over my role as Head of Gryffindor House."
There was the same polite applause as before as a man who looked to be in his mid-forties, stood as he was announced – from what Hermione could see, he was in relatively good shape and well dressed, he looked like an active individual, and Hermione wondered vaguely what his previous occupation had been.
"What do you reckon is going to happen to this one?" Dean asked dryly, under the cover of the applause.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, quietly and quickly.
"The jobs cursed, isn't it?" Neville reminded her, joining in the conversation.
Hermione shook her head, "Not anymore. Tom Riddle cursed the job when he was refused it. Now he's dead, the curse should have lifted." She told them, forgetting that not everyone knew this piece of information that she had known for over a year now.
Ginny, Parvati, Neville and Dean turn to stare at her.
"How do you know that?" Parvati hissed, wide-eyed. Hermione was about to reply when she caught the Headmistresses eye.
"Shhh." Hermione scolded her friends, giving McGonagall an apologetic look, as the Professor continued.
"Also, as I am now your new Headmistress, Professor Flitwick has agreed to step up to the role of Deputy Headmaster, as well as continuing his role as the Head of Ravenclaw." Again, this announcement was followed with more applause.
"This year, Hogwarts will once again be what it was meant to be: A safe haven to train the next generation of witches and wizards. And now, I know you will all be hungry after such a long day, therefore eat." She commanded while raising her hands and the five long tables suddenly filled with the most extravagant of feasts, that only Hogwarts could produce.
"Could you pass me the stuffed mushrooms, please Hermione." Parvati asked, signalling the dish at Hermione's elbow.
Hermione wrinkled her nose as she passed the dish, and Ginny laughed.
"I thought you loved stuffed mushrooms." Ginny said, as Parvati gave her thanks.
"I did. But after living off nothing but mushrooms for six months, if I never saw them again it would be too soon." Hermione said, reaching for the bowl of mash potato that was in front of her, looking forward to a hearty meal of pure comfort food.
Dean nodded his agreement, "I know exactly what you mean," he said, pushing away the fish dish that was next to him, "I've had enough salmon to last me several lifetimes." He said, "Pass over the steak and ale pie, Nev. I've missed that like you wouldn't believe."
As the group began to eat, Hermione carried on the conversation they had previously started before the sorting took over:
"So, what about you three? How come you decided to return?" She asked.
"Well, I was on the run, same as you, last year." Dean spoke first, "So I didn't really have much of a choice."
"I didn't feel like I'd learnt enough to take the exams in August." Parvati admitted, "And I was still grieving-" Her voice faltered, but she took a breath and continued, despite the tears that glistened in her eyes, "It's taking a while for me to come to terms with what happened to Lavender." She finished quietly, looking down at her plate.
Hermione looked directly at Parvati, she didn't smile – she couldn't, trying to ignore the memory scratching at her mind. But she placed a reassuring hand onto Parvati's and gave a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Parvati looked up at Hermione, staring her right in the eye. No smiles were exchanged, but there was a deep understanding: they had both seen people they loved brutally murdered that night, and they had both witnessed what had happened to Lavender, and in that moment the pair seemed to cross some invisible line that had always separated them, it seemed there friendship would be more solid this year.
Before the silence could become awkward, Ginny spoke up: "What about you Nev?" she asked.
Neville shrugged, "I was too busy flouting the authority of the Carrows," he admitted, "Plus I was one of the first to go into hiding. So I didn't really learn much, and I'm considering studying further to be an Auror," he admitted, his cheeks going slightly pink, slightly embarrassed at having such high aims. "So I really need to up my grades this year."
"Go for it." Hermione said supportingly, "I saw you fight in June, you have skill. You've always had it; I think you just needed to find your confidence. And from what I heard, you certainly found it last year." She told him, truthfully, causing him to turn even pinker at such praise.
"Where's Seamus, this year?" Ginny asked, "How come he didn't return?"
"He did pretty well last year," Neville said, "So he took his exams in August, then he's going to apply for a Ministry internship, hoping to start in October."
"Any idea what department?" Hermione asked, with interest.
Neville shrugged, "No idea, not even sure he knows where he wants to end up to be honest."
The group continued through dinner with genial, trivial chitchat, Hermione trying to tune out the frequent glances, and sometimes long staring, from multiple occupants of the room. By the time desert had been served, and mostly devoured, Hermione was becoming anxious to get to her new tower: the staring had become more frequent now that people had finished their meals, and she was quite ready for some personal space.
After what seemed like an eternity, the tables were cleared of the leftovers, Professor McGonagall finally rose, and a sleepy silence fell across the room.
"Now that we are all comfortably fed, your beds await you. Classes will begin tomorrow, and for anyone wishing to try out for their house Quidditch team, tryouts will be held next week: your team captain will put the time and date up on your house notice board." She informed them.
"Prefects, please escort the first years to their house dormitories, you may then proceed to your new prefect quarters on the fifth floor. Deputy Heads, you may retire to the quarters immediately, and can the Head Boy and Girl come and see me, and I will escort you to your tower." McGonagall instucted.
When McGonagall stopped talking, Hermione turned to Ginny, "I'll see you at breakfast. Wish me luck." She added.
Ginny laughed, "You'll be fine. And I want a tour, tomorrow." She demanded.
Hermione rolled her eyes, and left the table to walk over to McGonagall, ignoring all the stares as she passed the rest of the students heading in the opposite direction.
"Hermione," McGonagall said, with a genuine smile of affection, "It's very good to have you back with us. I can't tell you how happy I am that you decided to return."
Hermione smiled, "Thank you Min- erm, Professor." Hermione corrected herself; McGonagall gave another small smile, as the pair lapsed into silence as they waited for Draco to grace them with his presence.
Eventually, five minutes later, he sauntered over.
"About time," Hermione muttered, standing with her arms crossed.
"Relax, Granger. I'm here aren't I?" He then smirked, "Couldn't wait to get me all to yourself?"
Hermione gave him her signature glare, clearly conveying her lack of amusement, before turning to the Headmistress.
"Right, well, if you will both follow me, I will lead you to your tower." She said briskly, leading them through the chamber off the side of the hall in order to miss the last of the straggling students.
"We've converted the guest tower for your use," McGonagall informed them as she led them up the marble staircase. "It's one of the West Towers, so your rooms will overlook the Forest."
Hermione smiled, she loved having West facing windows: After a bad day, she loved nothing better than curling up in a window, with a book, to watch the sun set – and she had a feeling that this year would involve a few bad days.
Fifteen minutes, and countless staircases later, McGonagall came to a halt outside a large portrait depicting Hogwarts castle at night, with stars lighting up the clear sky, and a crescent moon just visible in the corner of the canvas. As with all other paintings in the castle, it's contents were living, and as Hermione watched an owl flew out of Owlery, circled a tower, and soared off over the Forest. A breeze sent the leaves of the Whomping Willow rustling, and the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest swayed gently.
"Magbob" Professor McGonagall declared at the painting, which swung inwards, revealing the large, arched, doorway into the tower – this was obviously their password for the term.
Hermione smiled and the choice of word, and glanced at Draco, wondering if he knew the term's origin. Judging by the slight crease of his temple, followed by a small shake of his head, he thought McGonagall was simply making words up.
Hermione and Draco followed their Headmistress silently into a large, round and open-plan space. To their left, up a couple of steps onto a raised platform was their study area, which consisted of a large wooden table with six large comfortable chairs gathered around it. Floor to ceiling bookcases lined the walls that surrounded the area, containing what Hermione would estimate as being at leas two hundred books. She smiled, excitement in her eyes, she couldn't wait to start exploring their depths, determined to read every single volume before the year was out.
To their right was their sitting area: A collection of a couple of sofas, and three chairs were gathered around a low wooden coffee table, in front of a large fire. The comfort was similar to that of the Gryffindor common room, though the furniture was in better condition. To the back of the room was a small kitchenette, with a sink and a stovetop, on which was sat a large copper kettle. Hermione would have to search the cupboards to see what kitchen accessories they were provided with. A long breakfast bar separated the kitchen area from the rest of the space, complete with four bar stools, neatly tucked under.
The décor was neither Gryffindor, nor Slytherin inspired – and Hermione silently thanked the Gods that they hadn't tried to do a mixture of the two: she would have gone insane living with 'Christmas colours' for a full ten months. Instead the décor was more fitting of a woodland cabin, warm browns and similar earthy hues, and sheepskin rugs, and soft cushions on the leather upholstery.
McGonagall turned to face the two students. "I'm sure you will find everything to your liking. As you can see the ground floor is self-explanatory. The staircase to the left, behind the study, leads to your room, Draco. And the opposite staircase, behind the sitting area, leads to yours, Hermione. Your bathroom is off your bedroom, you'll be able to find your way around easy enough, I'm sure."
"Thank you," Hermione said, as Draco nodded in silence.
"One last thing, please don't forget the rota for corridor duty. When you've finished it, call for one of the houseleves – Hickory usually does the notices, so call for him. And He'll make sure they're up on the prefect board before dawn."
Hermione and Draco nodded.
McGonagall went to leave, then turned back at the doorway. "I hope I'm not making a mistake in my estimation of your two's maturity. I know you haven't been particularly candid to one another in the past, but I'm hoping civility is not too much to ask."
Hermione laughed, "We'll be fine, don't worry. We are capable of being civil to one another, we've done it before." She assured the Headmistress.
McGonagall nodded, and finally departed. Hermione looked at Draco, who was looking at her with raised eyebrows.
"What?" Hermione frowned, "Are you telling me you can't be civil? I know you can, do you not remember our extremely civil encounter after the battle? Down in the kitchens. We were there for a while, and no wands were drawn, nor voices raised." She reminded him.
"I remember." He spoke for the first time since entering, "But I'm surprised you do." He said with a smirk.
Hermione frowned in confusion, her expression inviting him to explain.
Draco rolled his eyes, "Granger, I don't think how much of a mess you looked that morning." He said, with a shake of his head.
"Thank you," she said dryly, giving him the less-than-impressed expression once again.
Draco frowned, "I mean it Granger. You were battered and bruised, covered in burns, scratches, and cuts. Under your eyes were black: the circles were so dark, I wasn't sure if it was exhaustion or a pair of black eyes. You were thin as well; your body looked like it was about to give in from exhaustion at any moment. You were delirious with the tiredness, I'm sure. I'm telling you, Granger, you were one hell of a mess."
Hermione shrugged, "It had been a long day. And I still wasn't 100% recovered from-" she stopped, feeling a little awkward she was about to mention the incident at Malfoy Manor, but thought better of it.
Before the silence was left to continue too long, resulting in an awkward atmosphere, Hermione spoke up.
"We may as well get these rotas sorted, shouldn't take too long. And I like to get them done before I get distracted with my room." She said, briskly, walking up to the large table in the study area.
She pulled out her blue sequin bag from her robe pocket and put it on the table with a loud thump, which earned her another raised eyebrow. She had transferred her school bag into it on the train journey, not wanting to have the cumbersome bag during dinner, and luckily finding the enchanted bag in one of the many pockets of her school bag.
"What the hell have you got in that, Granger?" Draco asked, coming up to the table.
"My school bag." She said simply, then turned to explain with a smirk, "Undetectable extension charm, this thing was a treasure last year: it had everything we could possible need, from a tent to a portrait."
Draco's eyebrows seemed to go even higher, "A portrait? Why…just why?"
Hermione smirked, "Sorry, classified." She said, taking a seat.
Draco shook he head, "Whatever, lets just get on with this so I can take a shower and get some rest."
Hermione delved into her sequin bag to retrieve her school bag, then delved into her school bag to retrieve parchment and quills and a list of the school prefects.
An hour later, the rota was finished to a satisfactory standard, the pair had hardly talked during the process, except for the odd comment about the suitability of the pairings.
By the time they got to the end, Draco was starting to get a little short of temper, he was extremely tired, and just wanted to sleep.
"If they don't like it, they can just suck it. It's late, just call the damn elf and get these away." He said in a harsh tone.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but refrained from antagonising him – she knew she wasn't the easiest person to get along with when she was tired and cranky, so she let this one slide. After duplicating the parchment in front of her, she called for Hickory, who appeared a moment later with a loud crack.
"The new Head Girl called?" He said in it's high-pitched tone.
"Yes, could you take these and put them up in the Prefect Dorms, please." She said, handing over the two pieces of parchment.
"Certainly miss. Anything else?" The elf asked.
"Actually -" Draco started, but Hermione spoke over him.
"No. Thank you. That will be all." She said, definitively.
The elf bowed, and disappeared, while Draco glared at Hermione.
"I'm hungry, I was just going to ask for a sandwich." He said shortly.
"You've just eaten a feast. And we have a kitchen. Explore." She said, echoing his shortness before turning to her staircase and ascending up to her room. She heard Draco leave his seat and mutter all the way to his staircase.
At the top of the stairs, Hermione went through a large wooded door, and stopped dead. She had walked right into her sitting room that formed part of her suite at home. Or rather, an excellent replica of it, as she looked closer she noticed the differences: the proportions were a little smaller, and the colour scheme most definitely Gryffindor. The room even had the French doors leading out to a balcony that, as McGonagall had said, overlooked the Forbidden Forest.
Hermione smiled, and treaded the familiar path through the wooden double doors (not as wide as the ones at home) to her bedroom. Here again, were some differences: at first glance the layout was the same, she had her four-poster bed, her dressing table and a chaise-long. And there were her bedside tables and a book table, and French doors leading out to the balcony again. But the Biggest difference was the colour scheme, at which she was secretly glad – while her 'emerald city' theme was acceptable at home, here it would be seen as Slytherin décor, and the ultimate treachery to Gryffindor. Instead the room was decorated in the typical reds and gold. As she investigated further, she saw there was an additional door on the left hand wall, as well as the two doors on the back wall, on either side of the bed.
Hermione walked to the right hand door first and found it to be – as at home – her closet (again, considerably smaller in size here, which wasn't a bad thing, as Hermione had brought with her a limited wardrobe.)
The door on the left-hand side of the back wall, which would have been Hermione's en-suite at home, was a small room, housing a toilet and a tiny sink basin. No shower unit, nor bathtub.
Hermione turned to the door next to her, on the left had wall, the cogs slowly turning in her mind, and the conclusions she were drawing weren't particularly happy ones.
She turned the handle and entered into a luxurious room, along the back wall, to her right, was a long vanity unity, complete with two large sinks. On the opposite wall to the sinks was a large double shower, and in the centre of the room was a roll top bath. On either side of the shower and bath, were two luxurious lounges, a safe distance away to prevent accidental splashing from the tub or shower.
Hermione looked directly across at the wall opposite her, and saw what confirmed her earlier suspicions, especially when coupled with the 'his-and-her' sinks.
Directly opposite her own, was another door, which Hermione would bet her entire fortune, led into Draco Malfoy's room. Hermione sighed, and turned back into her room, and proceeded to unpack her belongings.
As she was sending the last of her clothes to the closet, with a wave of her wand, she heard a call from the bathroom.
"Jesus, Granger! How much crap do you have in the shower already?!" Draco called.
Hermione rolled her eyes, sighed, and went into the bathroom, where she immediately laughed at the sight of Draco carrying an armful of bottles.
"Apparently, the same amount of crap you're about to put in there." She said, still laughing.
Draco scowled and started sending various bottles to various places around the bathroom, muttering as he did so: "They're not all going in the shower."
Hermione rolled her eyes; "I have shampoo, conditioner, a face wash, a body scrub, and some hair treatment as I have neglected my curls this year, according to my mother. It's a pretty standard amount for any woman to have in her shower." She told him before turning back to her room.
"Whatever. Just don't use my razor!" Draco called after her.
"Why on earth would I do that?" Hermione shouted back, with disgust.
"I don't know, apparently girls do that." Draco said, and Hermione could tell he was no longer in the bathroom, but had followed her, uninvited, into her room.
"Well, I don't." she snapped, then added sarcastically, "And you may enter my room, by the way."
Draco smirked, "Thank you. Not that I was going to ask permission anyway." He took in his surroundings. "It's small." He stated.
Hermione shrugged, "I only sleep in here, it doesn't need to be large."
"But your room is your sanctuary," he countered. "I'm surprised you haven't got bookcases lining the walls."
Hermione silently pointed to the doors behind her, "In my sitting room."
"You have a sitting room?" Draco asked, wondering over to the doors. "Hmmm."
"I take it you just have the one room?" Hermione asked, "And is yours set out like it is at home?"
Draco nodded, "With the exception of the en-suite."
Hermione nodded, and remained silent, waiting for Draco to leave her rooms. Apparently he was taking no such hint, she sighed.
"Malfoy, I'm tired, get out of my room, I want to sleep. We'll figure out bathroom arrangements tomorrow, but for now, you can shower tonight, and I will shower in the morning. Now get!" She said.
Draco frowned, "I don't appreciate being ordered around like a dog." He said.
"The don't come into my room. My room, my rules." She said.
Draco smirked, "Kinky."
"I swear to the Gods." Hermione snapped, pulling out her wand. Draco held up his hands and walked back the way he had come, still with that annoying smirk.
"Easy Granger, remember what you told McGonagall." He warned.
Hermione slammed the door behind him, and locked it, before kicking off her shoes and changing into her standard sleeping attire: a pair of long, cotton pants, and one of Harry's old t-shirts that he never wore anymore. She sent her clothes into the closet to hang themselves on hangers, then climbed gratefully into the large bed.
That night, all the thoughts and memories she had refused to acknowledge throughout the evening came to the forefront of her mind, and for the first time in weeks she woke in a cold sweat, after only a few hours of sleep, thanks to one of the many recurring nightmares she had started having since the end of the war.
Taking her wand from under her pillow, where she had taken to keeping it since last summer, she illuminated the lamp on her bedside table and looked at the clock. 2am.
Hermione sighed, there was no way she was going back to sleep any time soon, not when she had the haunting pictures of Lavender, Remus and Dora plastered on her eyelids. Instead, she dragged herself out of bed, grabbed her dressing gown, and quietly descended down into the small kitchenette, to brew some camomile tea, hoping to sooth her nerves, and help her get back to sleep, quietly thankful that she hadn't at least screamed out in this particular nightmare.
Hermione spent the next couple of hours curled up on one of the couches, staring at the dying embers of the fire. Finally, she felt her eyes become heavy, so she dragged herself back up to her bed, where she slept fitfully until her alarm went off at 7.
An hour later, showered and dressed, Hermione descended once again into the Kitchen, where Draco was already sipping a mug of coffee, his school bag sat on the breakfast bar, clearly he had found their supplies.
"You look like hell, Granger." He commented as she stepped off the stairs.
Hermione scowled, not in the mood for his special form of pleasantries, which appeared to have made a comeback this morning. Instead of retaliating, she simply asked:
"Do I smell fresh coffee?"
Draco smirked, and wordlessly turned to pour her a mug, handing it over to her in continued silence.
"Thanks." Hermione said gratefully, with a tiny hint of a smile trying to replace the scowl.
"You are not a morning person then?" Draco commented, as she took a tentative sip from her mug.
"Usually, I am. But I didn't sleep much last night. Being back here, it brought back-" Hermione stopped suddenly as she realised who it was she was speaking to why did she keep doing this? Letting things slip to people.
"Never mind," she said hastily, taking another drink.
Draco took note of the abrupt change and refrained from pushing for her to continue, instead he changed the subject:
"We should go down to breakfast soon, timetables will be being handed out, plus while we have decent tea and coffee supplies in here, the food is pretty limited to snacks and biscuits. And no doubt there will be at least one prefect with a complaint about the rota we did last night." Draco grumbled.
Hermione rolled her eyes and scowled again, in no mood for petty and trivial teenage dramas today,
"Well, they'll just have to suck it, won't they." She said, rather harshly, repeating his words from the night before.
Draco laughed a genuine laugh, and Hermione glanced up slightly surprised. She had never heard, nor seen him laugh in such a way, and the effect was quite surprising. There was a sparkle to his eyes which she had never seen before, transforming them from hard steel grey she had become accustomed to, turning them into pools of quicksilver that hinted at a hidden depth she had never imagined. And the smile brightened his face, gone was the hard mask of nonchalance, replaced by a degree of genuine happiness. The effect only lasted a moment, but nonetheless, Hermione had noticed it, and noticed it to be a rather pleasant affect as well.
Hermione mentally shook herself. Merlin, she must be delirious with tiredness if her mind was finding Malfoy attractive - that was the last thing she needed going on in her thoughts right now.
"What is so funny?" she asked.
Draco shook his head and smirked, the mask slipping back into place,
"I just didn't expect that comment, I thought you had more patience. I enjoy this side of your personality," He commented suddenly, "That is an Hermione Granger I could learn to get along with." He told her, before draining his mug, setting it down and picking up his bag.
As he headed to the portrait hole, he called over his shoulder, "Don't be too long, the school will start to worry that I murdered the Gryffindor Princess in her sleep. And my public image can't take that right now." He mocked, still with laughter in his voice.
Hermione rolled her eyes, "Please, I'd be offended if even one student thought you could be a match for me." She called after him, echoing his tone, and once again causing him to laugh.
Ten minutes later, Hermione followed Draco down to the Great Hall. Upon entering, she immediately sought out the tell-tale flaming read hair of Ginny, and went to sit next to her, opposite Neville and Dean.
"About time," Ginny commented as Hermione took her seat, "We were beginning to think Malfoy had hexed you in your sleep or something." She joked.
Hermione scowled, not impressed with Ginny's humour, but didn't make a comment as Professor Fidelis chose that moment to distribute their timetables. Hermione glanced hers over quickly: not a bad Monday morning, Arithmancy, followed by Defence Against the Dark Arts. She frowned when she read her first class of the afternoon.
"Erm, there seems to be some mistake." She called after the new Professor, who turned back towards her.
"I dropped muggle studies after third year, I'm not enrolled in the NEWT programme." She told him.
Fidelis smiled, "New policy," he explained, "Muggle studies is now mandatory for all years. You can still take it as an option, but for those students who don't take the subject at OWL or NEWT level, they have to sit a short-course that runs for the duration of a term: You'll only have it up until Christmas." He informed them.
Hermione sighed and nodded in acceptance, "Thanks," she said, turning back to her breakfast.
Over at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy's good mood was evaporating quickly. He had taken a seat next to Blaise, who was as cheerful as ever – a little too cheerful in Draco's opinion, considering his first words to his friend.
"I'd brace yourself if I were you," Blaise warned, with a malicious glint in his eye.
"Why?" Draco asked warily, "What's going on?"
"Pansy seems to be on the warpath. She seems a little upset about something, and she's looking for you." He told him.
Draco scowled, "I haven't done anything. I haven't seen her at all over the summer, haven't even wrote to her. In fact, I pretty much ignored her." Draco ranted, while Blaise laughed.
"Well, there would be your problem, mate. Pansy doesn't like being ignored, I think she's under the impression you two are still an item." He explained.
Draco rounded on Blaise, "Still?! What do you mean 'still'? We were never an item." Draco assured his friend in a voice that carried to the people around him.
Blaise raised his eyebrows, but didn't say a word.
"We weren't." Draco defended, "She was a physical distraction, it's not my fault she got too attached."
Blaise shook his head and laughed while Draco started loading bacon and eggs onto his plate. The food was starting to lift his spirits once again, when Pansy sat herself in the seat next to him, causing his mood to plummet even further.
"Drakey," She said, in that irritating whine of a voice which immediately set Draco's teeth on edge. Draco took a deep, cleansing breath, closing his eyes for a moment, and trying to retain his calm.
"Where have you been all summer? Didn't you get my letters? I read about your parent's trials." She said, putting her arm through his.
Draco turned to her with a scowl, "I'm trying to eat. Get the hell off me." He snapped.
Pansy sat up a little straighter, slightly taken aback by Draco's abrupt tone.
She narrowed her eyes, "What's wrong with you?" she asked, then cocked her head sympathetically, "Is it because you're sharing that tower with the mudblood?"
Draco took another deep breath, but this time he actually growled a little on his exhale.
"No, you are my problem. I'm trying to eat a meal in peace, and you're ruining it. I was a little busy this summer to pander to your whims, I didn't read your letters – to be honest I don't even know why you were writing to me. Let's face it, we were never really friends, and I told you that our little fling last year was over mid-way through our last term. So why are you still hovering around me?" He ranted.
As Pansy was opening her mouth to speak, looking rather offended, Draco held up his hand to stop her. "Don't bother. Don't want to hear it. I just want you to leave me alone. Oh, and in future, don't use that term in front of me again. She has a name, its Granger, use it." He said firmly, turning back to his plate.
He heard Pansy get up and leave in a huff, just as Slughorn came down the table, and handed him his timetable. All other tables had been handed their timetables ten minutes ago, but Slughorn seemed to be in one of his lazy moods today. Draco glanced at his classes for today, and rolled his eyes.
"This can't be my timetable, I don't do muggle studies." He called impatiently after the Professor, was anything else going to go wrong today to mess up his mood even more?
Slughorn looked back, "You do now, it's mandatory: if you don't select it as an OWL or NEWT you have to do a basic course in it. It's only for one term." He explained, and then continued to hand out the remaining timetables, not intending to listen to Draco's ill humour.
Draco turned back to his plate scowling once again. "This morning is taking a nose-dive fast, and it's starting to piss me off." He growled, while Blaise chuckled, pushing his breakfast away form him, having finished already, and took up his timetable to examine.
"And to think, I was actually happy when I woke up." Draco muttered as he lifted his fork to finally make a proper start on his breakfast, having only managed to take two bites before Pansy had interrupted him. Before the fork could reach his mouth however, the food disappeared: apparently breakfast was over.
"Fuck sake!" Draco spat, throwing his fork onto the now empty plate. "I swear to the Gods, if my day doesn't improve someone is going to die!"
Draco picked up his timetable and bag and stomped out the Hall, muttering something about now having to 'find a stupid effing book for stupid effing muggle studies.' He could hear Blaise's laughter as he walked away from the table, which did nothing to help his bad mood whatsoever.
Hermione quickly rushed back to the Head's Tower when breakfast was over, wanting pick up the books she would need for the rest of the day in the spare fifteen minutes before the first class, at the same time dropping off the surplus texts she didn't need.
She was just coming back down her stair case when she heard the portrait slam, and Draco stomped over to the study area and began to peruse the shelves, mumbling darkly.
Hermione quirked her eyebrow, "You right, there?" she asked.
Draco turned and scowled. "Mandatory Muggle Studies." He said through gritted teeth, before turning back to the shelves.
"Ah," Hermione said, "Yeah, I have that after lunch. It's only for one term though, and it's a single period, once a week. It shouldn't be that bad." She said. She wasn't sure why she was trying to make Malfoy feel better; it just seemed like the right thing to do. Though this action surprised her: usually she would just shrug and walk away.
But she knew Malfoy could have a foul temper, and that didn't fare well for the people around him – not so much her, she was a good duellist, especially after last year, she knew she could most certainly handle him in a temper. But the younger students wouldn't stand a chance, if they crossed him in this foul mood.
"I don't care." Draco countered, "If I wanted to know about muggles, I would have taken the effing subject of my own free will. Why the hell would I want to learn in depth about people I rarely come in contact with? I need all I need to know, to handle them when business calls for it." Draco ranted; finally finding the book he was searching for, he pulled it roughly from the shelf and crammed it hastily into his bag.
Hermione frowned at his rant, loosing her patience quickly – a bad nights sleep did bad things for her temper, and muggle-prejudices were an extreme sore-point for her, and tended to result in hasty anger.
"It probably has something to do with educating the more bigoted minds in the school, to avoid the possibility of our society once again falling under the warped regime we managed to escape only a few months ago." She said waspishly, as Draco turned around to face her, his face a blank mask yet again.
"But what am I telling you this for?" Hermione continued, her voice becoming icier, and completely letting go.
"You and your family were at the fore front of that regime, full believers that wizards are the superior race, and people like my family and I are the scum of the earth. Of course you wouldn't appreciate the want for change, when you are such a strong believer in the past ways." She snapped.
Hermione had spoken in the heat of the moment, she was still touchy when it came to the subject of discrimination against muggles and muggleborns, and the scar on her arm seemed to throb as her anger pulsated, reminding her that it was a member of his family that had carved the word into her skin, which in turn made her even angrier at him.
Hermione knew her words were harsh, perhaps a little too harsh, and she regretted them as soon as she had uttered them. She knew her anger was misdirected, but even so, she still didn't expect Draco to react as extremely as he did.
Draco's calm mask slipped instantly away, and his features were overcome with obvious rage, bitterness and Hermione also thought she saw a hint of pain and guilt in his eyes. The instant regret she had felt after she had spoken was now multiplied a hundred times at seeing how her words had actually affected him.
"Shut the fuck up, Granger, I am not in the mood." He snarled, and Hermione actually took a step back in shock.
"You may be a bloody know it all at school, the top of every damned class, but you do not know all there is to know. And you certainly don't know shit about me or my family." He ranted in a low voice seething with restrained rage.
Hermione didn't know what to say, she was completely thrown by such an emotional response, and she had never seen Malfoy lose his cool like this before.
Without a seconds pause, before Hermione could recover, Draco turned and headed out of the portrait hole. Hermione chewed her lip, the anger that had briefly flared now subsided and was replaced by shame and guilt at what her actions had caused. She mentally kicked herself:
"Was there really any need to be such a bitch, after what you witnessed in him yourself?" she spoke aloud to herself, her mind taking her back to how the Malfoys had looked the one time she had been inside their home.
Hermione sighed, there was nothing she could do for the moment, and so she headed to her first class, resolving to apologise the first chance she got. When Hermione entered the Arithmancy classroom, she saw she was one of the first to arrive: only three other students were there. A pair of Ravenclaws was sat at the very front, and the other occupant of the classroom was seated at a table in the centre, his head bent over the open textbook on the table, platinum hair shining in the sun that was streaming through the window.
Hermione took a resigning breath, and steeled her nerves. No time like the present she thought to herself. Without wasting another moment, she walked briskly over to Draco's table, sat down uninvited and took the relevant books from her bag.
"Out of all the tables in the room, you chose to take one already occupied?" Draco questioned without looking up. "And what could possibly make you think sitting next to me would be a good idea?" He added, his tone icy.
Hermione took another deep breath, "I'm sorry." She said, "For what I said in the tower. It was unfair, and nasty and I'm sorry. I still find the whole muggle-prejudice thing a bit of a touchy subject, and I didn't sleep much last night, so my temper is a lot shorter than usual – that's not an excuse for my behaviour, I know, but it's all I've got. I know I overreacted, and I didn't mean what I said, I was venting, I'm sorry." She told him.
Draco still didn't look up from his book, nor did he speak, but Hermione did see him nod in acknowledgement of her apology. Hermione waited for him to say something, anything, as a few more students trickled in, but when it became apparent that he wasn't going to make any form of noise anytime soon, Hermione sighed again.
"I will move to another table, if you prefer." She said, resigned, reaching for her textbook, intending to return it to her bag.
Draco rolled his eyes, "Stay where you are," he mumbled finally, as Professor Vector entered the room. "The class is about to start anyway, and no doubt you're insufferable need to know everything will come in useful at some point during the class." He said, though still without actually looking at her.
Hermione allowed herself a little smirk of triumph, and settled back into her chair as the professor began her standard introduction.
A/N: Please let me know what you thought. And if there are any glaring mistakes, please tell me.
We are finally getting into the Dramione and I am looking forward to writing the next few chapters, to bridge the gab between now and Christmas. There's going to be lots of emotions, there's going to be laughter, anger, and a few vulnerable moments. There's going to be a huge cliché, but I just couldn't resist it lol.
I'm already a third of the way through chapter 11, with clear ideas of where it's going, so hopefully I won't be making you wait too long for the next update.
Thanks again for sticking with me, you guys really do rock, and it's making this story even more fun for me to write :)
xBx