Arrival

Leaving a mob of stunned and silent students in his wake, Draco finally found a familiar face.

"Crabbe!" The large boy jumped a mile at Draco's authoritative bark. "Where's Goyle?"

A blank look crossed his face. Apparently, he was thinking. Draco lost patience before Crabbe could come up with a response.

"Well find him, you dolt!" Draco ordered. "We need to get a compartment."

"Blaise already got one. Near the front of the train, behind the Head's compartment."

Draco froze, holding Crabbe's unintelligent and intimidated gaze in his own steely one. 'Right behind the Head's compartment…That's all I need…Granger to blow it before I can tell them myself…'

"Find Goyle and Pansy. Be in the compartment in five minutes." Crabbe nodded, but still did not move. "Now, you fool!" Draco commanded. At that, Crabbe jumped again and hurried off to the food stand.

Draco shook his head. 'The company I keep...'

He stepped into the compartment and, true to Crabbe's word, was Blaise Zabini. The tall black boy was lounging one of the seats reading a book on Dark Magic. He was wearing tight leather pants and an open silk shirt the same light blue as his eyes. Draco quirked a blonde eyebrow: Blaise always did have eccentric tastes. Draco supposed he got it from his mother. He cleared his throat as he stood in the compartment door. "Nice pants, Zabini."

Cold, blue eyes came up from the book and regarded Draco. "Wish I could say the same to you, Malfoy," he responded coolly. Draco's lips twitched into a smile, as did Blasie's. Both boys simultaneously broke out into elegant laughter. Blaise rose gracefully from the chair and greeted Draco.

"I wasn't expecting to see you this year, Draco."

"I wasn't expecting to come."

"I trust your summer was good?"

Draco's smile faltered a bit. "I have a few developments to tell you all. I want to wait until the train gets moving, though. We'll have less of a chance of being overheard," he said in a conspiratorial hush.

Blaise nodded seriously and offered Draco a seat, which he gladly took. They chatted casually of Blaise's summer in France until Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy walked in.

"Draco," purred Pansy, immediately going over to him. His face remained impassive as she straddled his lap, skirt riding high up her thigh, and snaked her arms around his neck. "Did you miss me over the summer?" she whispered into his ear. Draco knew she was trying to be seductive, to get a rise out of him, so to speak. It had never worked before. It was not going to work now.

"Get off me, Pansy. I have something important to tell you all."

Her green eyes hardened and gave him an affronted look. Without a word, she slid off his lap and into the seat beside him. Despite his frigidity towards her, she still eyed him hungrily. Draco ignored her gaze as the train lurched forward.

After a few minutes of small talk, Draco said, "I received some very interesting news over the summer and I want to know what you all think of it." The compartment became silent as Draco continued. "McGonagall has made me Head Boy this year."

Draco amused himself by watching the reactions of his posse. Blaise remained silent, but got a far-away look in his eyes, going deep into thought. Pansy gasped and looked torn between congratulating Draco and being horrified that he would no longer be living in the Slytherin dormitory. Crabbe and Goyle still looked clueless.

"But why?" asked Blaise, the first to speak in over a minute. "There's no reason for her to do that, especially after last year. Why did you decide to come back anyways?"

Draco quickly fabricated an excuse. "It would have been a sign of weakness had I not returned."

Draco was afraid that he would see through his pathetic lie. There was no way he could tell them that he had been living with the Order of the Phoenix for the summer, that he had left the grandeur of Malfoy Manor in exchange for the near poverty of Grimmauld Place. Blaise looked unbelieving for an instant, but nodded slowly in acceptance. Draco almost sighed in relief.

"As for why I'm Head Boy, I have no idea. It doesn't make sense."

"No, it doesn't," agreed Blaise.

"Who is Head Girl?" asked Pansy.

"I am," answered a voice from the doorway. Hermione was standing there, looking quite annoyed. "And you were supposed to be in the Head's compartment ten minutes ago, Malfoy. We have to go over protocol. McGonagall won't thank you for making her wait. Neither will I." She finished off her tirade with an irritated look.

Draco glared at Hermione for interrupting their talk without knocking. "I'll be there in a second," he grumbled. He waited until she was out of range before talking again.

"Granger," he spat.

"No real surprise there," admitted Blaise.

Pansy was horrified. "You're going to have to share a dormitory with that?" She made a face of disgust. "Thank Merlin dirty blood isn't contagious." Draco did not bother to even sneer.

"At least you'll have more power now," said Blaise.

Draco laughed sharply. "Ha! Under McGonagall's and Granger's eyes? Yeah right. I won't be able to get away with anything."

"Maybe that's the reason!" Blaise realized. "They want to keep an eye on you and the best way to do that is to give you a position of power."

Draco's eyes lit up. "You're right. That's the only explanation for it. They want to watch me, to make sure that I don't do anything else."

"We'll find a way to get around them," Blaise said in a conciliatory voice. "Don't worry. So what's the plan this year?"

Draco gave a guilty grin. He was about to tell them that there was no plan when Hermione appeared at the door again.

"Malfoy," she said in a stern voice. "Now."

Her bossy tone earned glares from the entire compartment. Any lesser student would have quivered under the intensity. But Hermione simply ignored them and continued staring pointedly at Draco.

"Fine," he said and rose to follow her.

"Ha, already whipped," he heard Blaise whisper under his breath. Draco turned around and shot daggers at the grinning boy.

"Watch yourself, Zabini," he warned in a half-joking, half serious tone.

XOX

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Malfoy," said Professor McGonagall. Her voice was laced with poorly concealed annoyance. Draco regarded her with steady arrogance. The tone of his look was not lost upon the wizened professor.

"Mr. Malfoy," she warned dangerously. Her face darkened and her mouth thinned as she continued. "You are going to be walking a fine line this year. Any arrogance or mishaps on your part will result in the severest of consequences. Trust me, young man, I am not to be meddled with."

A terse silence followed as the two continued to have a stare down. Draco, sensing that the old woman would not break anytime soon, looked down first. McGonagall straightened and smoothed her robes. She took a deep breath and launched into her monologue, which had most likely been given to every Head since she started.

"First, congratulations to both of you for becoming the school Heads. You were chosen for academic prowess, fine attitude towards education, and your outstanding relations with your peers." Draco held back a smile: he didn't exemplify one of those qualities and yet, here he was. To him, it only worked to confirm Blaise's suspicion. "You are role models for the entire school," she continued (Draco nearly laughed out loud), "and I expect you to conduct yourselves as such."

This is where he was sure she veered from her practiced discourse.

"Along the vein of conduct, I am well aware of the relationship between you both. I expect you to overcome your differences and act civilly towards each other. I don't want to hear of any fights or disturbances. Anything serious could very well result in both of you losing your station."

Hermione gasped. "Professor, don't you think that's a little extreme?"

"Ms. Granger, the way you and Mr. Malfoy fight is extreme. The punishment will fit the crime. Am I understood?"

"But…"

"Am I understood?"

Hermione's face fell and she looked submissively to the floor. "Yes, Professor."

"Good. Now I'll ask each of you to take a seat while I explain the rest of your duties."

For the rest of the train ride, Hermione and Draco sat on opposite ends of the plush red seat, one listening intently to her instructions, the other staring off into the distance, contemplating what the future could hold.

XOX

Sooner than she expected, Hermione mounted the thestral-driven carriage after Neville and Ron, heading off to Hogwarts for her last year. Not surprisingly, she was less-than-enthusiastic, as were her friends.

"I can't believe she kept you for the whole train ride," grumbled Ron. "And with that prat, no less."

"Yeah, that's terrible, Hermione. You hate each other! How're you going to get through it?" questioned Neville.

Hermione sighed and looked out of the window as the carriage jerked to life. "I don't know, Neville."

He shook his head in wonder. "Good luck to you, anyways."

"Thanks," Hermione said grimly. The excitement of being Head Girl diminished when McGonagall said that she could possibly get kicked out of her position just for fighting with Malfoy.

'And fighting with him is inevitable,' she thought. 'I'll just have to make some sort of arrangement. I refuse to lose the honor of being Head Girl just because of that arrogant git.' Then, a new thought popped into Hermione's head, something that changed her attitude completely. 'Wait, what if McGonagall's warning is just an empty threat? She's part of the Order! She must know about my mission!'

Having successfully figured out McGonagall's ruse, Hermione was able to genuinely smile as she sat down to the feast. She had no problem making jovial conversation with the friends she missed over the summer and enjoyed her first meal at Hogwarts immensely.

Warm and full from dinner, Hermione made her way to the Head's dormitory. The route was longer than normal, twisting, turning, and doubling back upon itself before depositing the wanderer at her destination. She came upon a grand portrait in a gold-gilded frame, inside of which resided one the Four Founders of Hogwarts: Rowena Ravenclaw. Hermione gaped up at her, wondering why their portrait was tucked back into the school, not proudly displayed up front.

"For reasons that you will discover this year, my dear," said Rowena Ravenclaw from the portrait. "This being one of them."

Hermione gasped in surprise. "You knew what I was thinking?"

She replied simply. "Yes."

"But how?"

Rowena smiled mysteriously. "I take it that you are the new Head Girl?" she asked, gracefully avoiding the subject.

"Yes. My name is Hermione Granger."

Rowena dipped her head. "Charmed, Ms. Granger. You can call me Rowena. I assume Headmistress McGonagall did not tell you the password?"

"Actually, no," Hermione realized. "She did not."

"Good. That is because there is no password."

Hermione looked up at the portrait strangely. "No password? Then how are we to enter the dormitory?"

"Ah," Rowena said. "Here comes your counterpart."

Hermione turned around and saw Draco walking towards her. His head was down and his face was entirely impassive. Overall, he looked none too pleased with having to sleep away from the Slytherin dormitory.

"Forgot the password, Granger?" Malfoy asked snidely. "Go figure."

"Do you remember it?" Hermione retorted.

"Of course! It's…" Draco's face went blank for a moment as he searched his memory for the answer.

"That's what I thought. Rowena was just about to tell us how we can enter."

"Rowena?" For the first time he looked at the portrait. "Oh."

Rowena chuckled softly. "When we guard the entrance, we will present you with a riddle. Solve it, and you may enter. If you do not, one of us will leave. You will have to wait until another returns before another riddle is presented."

Before Hermione could even ask the question, Rowena responded. "You were chosen as the school Heads because you are the cleverest in your year. Riddles are a way to prove your intellectual dexterity to me and to yourself on a daily basis. I have complete confidence in you both."

"Alright, so what's the riddle?" Draco asked impatiently.

Unruffled by his brusque attitude, Rowena smiled and presented them with the puzzle. "What does man love more than life and fear more than death or mortal strife? What do the poor have and the rich require and what do contented men desire? What do misers spend and spendthrifts save and all men carry to their grave?"

Hermione stared at Draco. He looked just as clueless as she felt. Having a feeling that he was not going to be of much help to her, Hermione set to pacing the area outside of the portrait.

"We have to think," she mumbled quietly. "What do men love more than life and fear more than death? Dementors? No, no one loves Dementors. Next clue. The poor have it, the rich require it and the content man doesn't want it. The poor…well, the poor don't have anything. And what do the rich need? Do they need anything? A content man should be happy with what he has. Nothing? Does it fit? Misers…spendthrifts…dead men…" She turned to Draco. "Is it nothing?" He shrugged unhelpfully. "Fine then. Is it nothing, Rowena?"

The woman in the portrait smiled kindly, her eyes alight with happiness. "You would have done very well in my House, Ms. Granger." The portrait slowly swung open and Hermione let loose the breath that she had been holding. She thanked Rowena and was making her way to the portrait when she was rudely shoved out of the way by Draco. She scowled at him and swore that she heard Rowena laugh softly. Rolling her eyes, she followed Draco into her new home for the year.