A/N: Hello again, beloved readers! THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU for your comments and alerts! It seriously makes my day when I read your wonderful reviews! Please stay with me. ~sneakyslytherin

Hermione stood awkwardly in the now-empty common room, unknowingly fiddling with her hair. Since it was September, the sun was already low in the sky at five o'clock in the evening, and Hermione thought that it would hardly be appropriate to indulge in her customary five-o'clock-shot of firewhisky while at Hogwarts. That'll be a hard habit to break, she thought glumly.

After the final battle, Hermione had found that one shot of the burning alcohol seemed to make her mind calm down enough so that she could relax. It also seemed to chase away nightmares, which she was constantly plagued by. What war survivor wasn't haunted by the ghosts of their past?

Sighing, Hermione walked over to the large window-wall to her left and watched as the evening light lured the giant squid out from the depths of the Black Lake. Mesmerized by the thrashing tentacles, she almost didn't see the bird until it was right in front of her face. Hermione shrieked and whipped out her wand, a hex on the tip of her lips.

Right outside of the window was a large, black raven, its yellow eyes staring at her unblinkingly as it hovered just outside the glass. "Go away!" Hermione said, tapping the window with the tip of her wand. "Shoo!"

The raven let out an indignant "squawk" and pecked hard on the glass, its thick beak failing to make so much as a chip in the magic-infused material. "Ha!" Hermione gloated. "You're stuck out there, aren't you? Why don't you just fly back home to your nest and stay away from my window?"

"That's hardly a way to talk to my girlie," a voice said from behind Hermione.

She jumped, her heartbeat accelerating dramatically before settling down. "Malfoy!" Hermione snapped, turning to face the smirking Slytherin. "You have to stop scaring me like that!"

"But it's so entertaining!" Draco protested, moving over to the edge of the windowed wall.

Hermione watched as Malfoy located a small, golden-wire square in the window, no bigger than a shoebox, and tapped it with his wand. The glass melted away, and the irritated raven flew through the gap and onto Draco's outstretched arm. Looking at Hermione triumphantly, the raven let out a very loud "caw" before turning to Malfoy and holding out its claw.

Seeing the parchment that was expertly tied to the bird's foot, Hermione gasped. "That's your familiar, isn't it?" she said softly, taking a step towards the man and his bird.

"Yes," Draco replied, taking a step back. "This is Étoile, and she prefers not to be touched by anyone other than me. She doesn't like people much."

Étoile fluffed out her feathers and croaked indignantly, as if to say "I'm very picky about the company I keep, and you, annoying frizzy-haired witch, are not up to my standards".

"I apologize for offending your bird," Hermione said sincerely. "It just didn't occur to me that she might be a familiar! I mean, owls are fairly easy to bond to, but ravens! Ravens have to choose their masters, you can't just walk into a shop - "

"Thank you very much for the history lesson, Granger," Malfoy interrupted, "but I have to give Étoile her dinner before we leave for ours. I suggest you get ready – your school robes should be in your wardrobe."

Hermione had noticed the new clothing when she'd unpacked earlier. Nodding stiffly to Draco, Hermione made to take her leave of the common room. Before she could get very far, however, Draco called out to her. "Granger!" he said quickly. "Um, I just wanted to, er, thank you for what you said to the other students." Draco was looking awkwardly down at the ground, suddenly fixated on his shoes. "You didn't have to do that, and I really appreciate you trying."

"Well, it's what any decent person would have done," Hermione said slowly, trying to look at anything in the room except Draco.

"I obviously don't know many decent people then," Draco said. He'd meant for it to be a joke, but the look on Hermione's face told him that she had taken it far too literally. "No, no, no….not like that…never mind. Just…thanks, Granger."

Hermione nodded again and went into her room without saying anything else to Draco. Before she shut the door, however, she heard Draco muttering to Étoile in French; "Cette année sera très difficile, Étoile, c'est la verité. Mais je vais essayer. J'ai besoin du temps."

Not knowing how to speak French, Hermione didn't really understand what Draco was saying. However, the word "difficile" hardly needed any translation, and Hermione just desperately hoped that he wasn't talking about her. The young witch furrowed her brow as she shut the door to her room. That boy really is hard to read, she thought. One minute he's snobbish, the next apologetic…it's like he's got multiple personality disorder, or something!

"Don't furrow your brow like that," Luna said sternly from her bed where she was attaching what looked like mice with dragonfly wings to her ceiling. "The more you crease your forehead, the more the Guppersnaps will be tempted to nest there."

Used to Luna's odd comments, Hermione just smiled and nodded. "Of course, Luna, I'll work on it. How's your summer been?"

The next two hours were blissfully relaxing; Luna and Hermione were able to have a successful heart-to-heart, and were officially caught up with each other's lives. At 6:55, Hermione found herself doing up the clasp to Luna's necklace, gossiping about the blonde's latest romantic interest. "So, this Rolf," Hermione started. "He works doing what?"

"He's an Unspeakable," Luna explained. "I know that it's dangerous work, and that most of those people are serious and grumpy, but Rolf seems to like my….eccentricities. He listened to my speech about the growing issue of Knargle abuse in public restrooms, and afterwards he signed my petition! That's how we met, actually…."

"What's his last name?" Hermione asked absentmindedly, fixing her own necklace in the mirror. "Salamander?"

"Scamander," Luna corrected. "Rolf Scamander. You won't find him in any directory though, with him being an Unspeakable and all…."

"Are you sure that you should be telling people what his real profession is?" Hermione said, concerned. "I mean, don't they have policies about that?"

Luna shrugged. "If they did, why would he trust me with the information?"

"Oi! Ladies! Stop doing your make-up and get out here!" Seamus' voice was apparently loud enough to break through silencing charms. "McGonagall'll roast us if we're late!"

"Coming, Seamus!" Luna called out, standing up and brushing invisible dust off of her robes. "Shall we go, Hermione?" she said, extending her hand to her roommate.

"Yes, let's."

All thirteen students walked down the staircases and towards the Great Hall together, chatting and making light conversation. Draco walked closer to the back and remained silent. He appeared to be listening to Neville and Justin's conversation about gillyweed, however, and no one had hexed him yet, which Hermione thought was a good start.

It was only when the group arrived at the doors just outside the Great Hall that Hannah voiced the growing concern that each individual had; "Where are we going to sit?" she asked, confused. "If we're house-less this year like McGonagall said…"

"Why hullo there!" a familiar booming voice echoed from behind the students, and the group turned around to see the massive figure of Rubeus Hagrid smiling behind them.

"HAGRID!" almost everyone cried out, and the half-giant was swamped with hugs from his favourite students.

The war hadn't been kind to Hagrid; thanks to the final battle, he now sported a large scar over his left eye, and would always walk with a limp. He was still extremely proficient with magical creatures, though, and continued to serve as a groundskeeper and teacher for the school that he loved so much. "Do you know where we sit, Hagrid?" Neville asked politely, craning his neck upwards.

"Oh, yer all house-less, aren't yeh?" Hagrid shouted, not realizing that his normal speaking tone was about ten times too loud for an indoor venue. "There should be a nice big round table set up fer yeh over close teh the staff table. Follow me!"

Thirteen slightly apprehensive students followed the large man through the center of the hall, and all of them moved over to sit at a circular table set up to the right of the staff area. Smiling up at the enchanted ceiling that was mirroring the clear, cool night sky, Hermione completely missed the scuffle of who decided to sit where. When she looked down again, her heart sank; the only free seat was between a stony-faced Draco Malfoy and a scowling Susan Bones. On Draco's other side, a hesitantly smiling Harry seemed to be silently begging Hermione to just take the empty seat and be done with it. Acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary, Hermione sat down beside her former arch-nemesis.

McGonagall took this as her cue to signal an unfamiliar female teacher to bring in the first year students from outside. After reading out a seemingly endless list of names, adding at least a dozen students to each house, the Headmistress stood up to deliver her opening speech.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said grandly, gesturing to the warmly lit building surrounding her. "Whether this is your first year or your eighth, we are all happy to have you here for a peaceful, constructive, educational year at this esteemed school. Before I let you all get to your delicious meal, I'd like to quickly announce some changes in staff –as the past Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts died in combat against Voldemort last spring, we have a new Professor filling the position. Though she may not be as intimidating as our Professor Snape, we're sure that she will earn your friendship and respect; Professor Prewitt, would you please rise?"

A fresh-faced young witch in green robes stood up from the staff table and smiled, waving happily at the politely-clapping students. Hermione recognized her as the woman who led the first-years in. "She won't last," Hannah said darkly from beside Hermione.

Hermione glared at the morose witch. "How can you tell?" she snapped, noticing that Hannah was still wearing her leather boots underneath her robes. "Maybe she's a seasoned auror? Maybe she'll become the best teacher we've ever had."

Hannah shook her head. "Not a greenie like that. I bet she hasn't seen a day of battle in her life."

Hermione looked back at the smiling young professor, and felt herself agreeing with Hannah. Where are her worry lines? The permanent frown etched around her mouth? Scars? The haunted look in her eyes?

McGonagall continued her speech when the applause died down. "Also, as most of you are aware, we have a change in the seating arrangements of the Hall – to your left, you'll see a table that houses our returning veterans from the war against Voldemort, seeking to complete their education. Please rise, my dears!"

Slightly humiliated at being referred to as "dears", the eighteen-year-olds all stood quickly before sitting back down, embarrassed. When the student body caught a view of Harry and Hermione at the table, the applause grew uncontrollably loud and uproarious. "Quite the fan club you have there, Granger," Malfoy whispered into her ear, tickling her skin with his breath. "Looking forward to being in the spotlight this year?"

Hermione jerked away from Malfoy, glaring at him before turning to the food that had suddenly appeared on the table. She heard Lavender groan, and turned to see if something was wrong. Lavender had her hand on her stomach. "After a year of watching my weight, it's all being shot to hell by one meal back at Hogwarts."

The entire table – excluding Draco – joined in with laughter, and their eighth year at Hogwarts officially began.

"So, Hermione," Neville called from across the table, loading up his plate with potatoes. "How's Ron doing? Have you heard from him?"

"Yeah, are you two still – you know – together?" Padma asked, gesturing with her fork.

Hermione blushed. "Erm, no, not exactly," she stuttered. "Ron and I are still good friends, we've just….we just decided that we weren't that kind of friends."

Seamus started laughing. "Pay up, Dean!" he said, holding his palm out to his grumbling friend.

Hermione grew red and looked down at her plate, feeling tears welling in her eyes. They had made bets that she'd break off the relationship? She felt hot breath against her skin once more. "Don't pay attention to them, Granger," Draco whispered. "They don't know how much that comment just hurt you. Hide it. Then they have nothing to hurt you with."

Almost imperceptibly, Hermione nodded and continued eating, contributing to the conversation around her as the evening progressed. When a very tipsy Professor Trelawney stood to return to her tower, the students decided that it would be deemed acceptable if they, too, were to leave. Sleepy seventh-years and eleven-year-olds hyped up on sugar all filed out of the hallway, and Hermione gave a quick wave to Ginny. She doubted that the red-head saw her, however, as Ginny only had eyes for Harry.

"Love is sickening, isn't it?" Hermione turned to see Draco sneering at the oblivious happy couple who were now embracing in the middle of the hallway.

"I think that love is actually rather lovely," Hermione said, starting to walk out of the hallway. She was surprised when Draco fell in-step beside her.

"But it always just seems so complicated," Draco said, his brow furrowed. "I mean, why go through all that pain?"

"Does that look like pain?" Hermione asked, tilting her head back to Harry and Ginny who were now leaning their foreheads against each other.

"They had to go through the pain of separation last year," Draco pointed out, avoiding looking back.

Hermione nodded. "True. But isn't that worth it? They have the rest of their lives to be happy with each other."

Shrugging, Draco shook his head. "I just don't understand it. Love is like a different language."

Hermione laughed. "Just watch, Draco – one day you'll fall in love, and then you'll understand it perfectly."

She stopped when she noticed that Malfoy was no longer beside her. Turning slightly, she saw that he was frozen a few steps back, his eyes wide. "You called me Draco," he said slowly, his eyes staring into hers.

Hermione blushed. "I'm sure I've called you Draco before," she said hurriedly, moving to turn.

Malfoy moved forwards and grabbed her arm. "No," he said firmly, "you haven't said it without animosity before. It's always 'Malfoy', or a mean-spirited 'Draco'."

Embarrassed at Draco's hand on her arm and her apparent sudden change in behaviour, Hermione tried to move up the stairs. Draco abruptly let go of her arm and moved beside her again. They walked in companionable silence up to the common room, and then Hermione pulled out her key to open the door.

Draco's loud gasp reminded Hermione that he had no idea that her key wasn't red. Quickly hiding the blue metal under her palm, she turned the key quickly. The door flashed silver before swinging open. Draco, however, didn't move into the room. "Your key is blue," he said slowly, his eyes fixed on something that Hermione could not see. "Your key is bloody blue!"

Hermione chose to ignore his ramblings and walked into the common room. Not hearing Draco follow her, she spun around. "Really Draco, it's not advisable for you to remain in the hallway all night," she scolded, half-mocking and half-serious. "You have a lovely room just in here."

Being addressed seemed to jar Malfoy out of his reverie, and he walked quickly into the room and in front of Hermione. Before they could get very far however, Draco stopped again. "Damn," he said softly, hanging his head.

"What?" Hermione asked, panicking. "What's wrong?"

Draco turned his head to look at her, his grey-blue eyes mournful and distant. "I'd hoped that it would be different here," he said wearily.

Stepping to the side, Draco allowed Hermione a view of the common room; someone had painted the words "GO DIE DEATH EATER" in bright red paint on Draco's door.

Hermione's hand rushed up to cover her mouth. "Who would do this?" she asked hesitantly, watery eyes fixed on a stony Draco.

"Anyone, I expect," Draco said quietly, not meeting her eyes.

"We can fix it!" Hermione said quickly, grabbing her wand and walking to the door. "It's just paint, we can wash it off -"

Draco grabbed a hold of Hermione's wrist. "No," he said softly. "It's late. I'll do it in the morning."

"But then everyone will see it!" Hermione whispered urgently.

"Only the eighth-years," he said.

"Still!" Hermione exclaimed. "You don't want them to see this! This is offensive and derogatory and -"

"It doesn't matter," Draco said, patting Hermione's hand before letting go. "They're all thinking it anyways – what difference does it make if someone wrote it?"

Passing by a stunned and silent Hermione, Draco walked over to his desecrated door and opened it. "Thanks though, Hermione."

Hermione shook her head. "Thanks for what?" she said harshly. "You didn't let me do anything!"

"Thank you for caring," Draco said in a near-whisper before closing his door.

Once again, Hermione was left alone in the common room with a headache and a new, strange ache in her chest.

It was only just before she was about to fall asleep that Hermione realized Draco had addressed her by her first name.