Disclaimer: Harry Potter is JK Rowling's.

Chapter 13

Lifeless Grey Eyes

1st September, 1998

"Are you sure you don't want to come?" she asked again, her eyes flicking nervously from the train to where Ron and Harry stood beside her with Percy, George and Ginny.

"And that makes it fifty-seven, Hermione," George said in a bored voice.

Bored. The twins had never been bored.

"Fifty-seven what?" she asked curiously, pleased he was just talking. Lately, only Luna's dreamy voice had seemed to be able to get him out of his shell. It was a miracle they had managed to convince him to come here, at the station, where there were so many people.

"That was the fifty-seventh time you asked Harry and Ron to come back to Hogwarts with us," Ginny explained. There was a light in her eyes, the expression she always got when George said anything even vaguely humorous. "I think you're mental; who would want to bring them along, anyway?"

It was all right for Ginny, she and Harry were no longer an item. After Voldemort had died, Harry had sought Ginny out and they'd resumed their relationship, but she'd ended it after a few weeks, saying he didn't need (or "couldn't handle," as she'd told Hermione later) the stress of a relationship right now. According to Ginny, it just wasn't the same between them anymore. Harry had to feel the same way since he didn't try to change her mind. They were still friendly, but the least you could say was that the situation was awkward. Ginny was eager to escape this uneasy atmosphere and go back to Hogwarts for a breather.

"Well, excuse me," Hermione said, exasperated. "I just thought... when we rebuilt it, you seemed so enthusiastic..."

"She's just worried she'll be all alone and without friends," Ron said. "It's not like – er, I mean, she's been Harry Potter's friend since first year, y'know? And, well..." He stopped, obviously flustered.

"Suave, Ron. Real suave," George said, shaking his head. "Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches and this is all he comes up with."

There was a long, lingering silence after he uttered the words. A void in the conversation that fully reflected Fred's absence; all knew and tried not to know that had Fred been there, he would have answered his twin, or contributed to the joke. No one had reacted to George's sarcasm, because they half-expected to hear Fred's voice doing it. Ron closed his eyes and breathed out, and Ginny's hand found her way to George's. Harry looked away and Hermione became suddenly very interested in her shoes.

"I hate this," George said suddenly, wrenching his hand from Ginny's grasp.

She made no move to retrieve it, and only stepped back a little, looking wary – wary and weary, so damn tired of this. They were all doing their best, but the war had affected everyone, some more than others. Hermione still cried herself to sleep most nights, Harry kept having nightmares, Percy felt so guilty he'd avoided his family for weeks (though Ginny had soon shaken that out of him), and George... George was the worst.

"I hate this," he repeated. "The silence. Someone say something." When no one did, he added, pleadingly: "Anyone."

"Malfoy," Ron said, quite abruptly.

George rolled his eyes. "Anyone but him," he corrected himself, and Ginny laughed hesitantly. Hermione allowed herself a giggle.

"No, seriously," Ron said. "Malfoy."

He pointed. Sure enough, there was Draco Malfoy, standing a few feet away from the Hogwarts Express, alone and looking out of place among the crowd of rowdy pre-teens and teenagers bustling around him.

"What's he doing here?" George asked in disgust.

"Well..." Harry looked uncomfortable. "He's back for his seventh year, I s'pose."

Because of the war and all, none of the seventh years from the previous year had been able to pass their N.E.W.T.s. Not that they'd learned enough to anyway, what with the Carrows governing the school. Everyone, first year through seventh, was repeating. It was the sort of situation no-one even thought to complain about, given the circumstances.

"They let him go back?" Ron asked. "How could they?"

"He's not the only one," Harry said. "The only Slytherin, I mean. A lot of them have chosen to come back. From our year, Goyle, Zabini, Parkinson, and Nott will be there."

"How do you know?"

Harry's expression of uneasiness deepened. "Kingsley told me," he admitted.

"So that's why you two aren't coming back," Ginny said jokingly.

Ron didn't seem to think it was funny. "Malfoy was a Death Eater!"

"Yeah, I know." Harry looked thoughtfully at Malfoy. "I didn't really believe he'd come."

"Neither did I," Ron muttered. "I didn't think the ferret would be bold enough to show his face at Hogwarts again."

"Hello, Ginny, Hermione," a voice said lightly from behind them.

"Luna!" Ginny greeted her friend warmly. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, how about you?"

She didn't really look fine, Hermione mused. She looked terrible, with dull eyes and messy hair. She was wearing drab Muggle clothes, a dark grey t-shirt over faded, frayed black jeans. Luna had always dressed strangely; now she always dressed as though going to a funeral. Actually, her funeral dress robes were much brighter – she'd worn white to both commemorative events set at Hogwarts this summer.

"We're alive," Ginny said, which was really the best anyone could say. "We were talking about Malfoy, he's standing over there."

"I saw."

There was an uneasy silence, then Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably and said, "I think you should be going. I mean, the train's going to leave soon..."

"With a bit of luck, maybe Malfoy'll miss it," Ron muttered darkly.

"See you," Ginny said, waving her fingers at her brothers – and ex-boyfriend.

"Don't forget to write!"

"Or do, we don't really care..."

"George!"

Hermione gave Harry, George and Percy – who, they had all been shocked to witness, was the Weasley who could communicate best with George since the battle – a quick hug good-bye each, then hesitated before leaning forward to hug Ron as well. Things had been strained between them since the Final Battle, rather like between Harry and Ginny, except Hermione hadn't even wanted a try at a relationship. The entire Weasley family was still reeling from the shock of Fred's death, and it hadn't seemed fair to expect Ron to deal with her as well. Still, she hoped that soon...

She saw Ron turn bright red and whirled around to follow Ginny and Luna, who were already heading for the train.

"Five Galleons someone will invite us to their carriage less than twenty seconds after we get on," Ginny wagered.

Luna shook her head. "More like forty seconds."

"If we were Harry, maybe," Hermione said. "But we aren't that famous."

"Are you kidding?" Ginny asked. "You've been one of Harry's best friends since first year, and you've always been at the top of your class. You helped find the Horcruxes and defeat Voldemort, and they're going to print your own Chocolate Frog Card soon. I reckon you're famous enough."

Luna laughed. "I didn't you you were going to be on the Chocolate Frog Cards," she said.

"Don't remind me. It's going to be the most humiliating thing ever."

Hermione knew Ginny was right. She just had to take a look at any wizard within a ten-metre radius to realise it – everyone was staring, pointing, whispering. And not just at Harry, either.

While Ron seemed to bask in the attention, Hermione just wanted to get away from it. She felt even more sympathetic toward Harry now that she knew this was the sort of attention he'd been getting since he was eleven.

"As for Luna," Ginny went on, "she's a friend, too, since the D.A., and she stood up for him after Voldemort's return and believed him when nobody else did. Her father printed Harry's interview, the real one, and she was there in the Department of Mysteries and at the Battle of the Astronomy Tower. We co-led the D.A. with Neville, and then she was kidnapped by Death Eaters and kept in the same dungeon as Harry, Ron and you. During the final battle, she stunned Alecto Carrow and also saved Harry, Ron and you when the Dementors attacked you."

"You've done far more than I have," Luna said, suddenly serious.

"She's right," Hermione said. "You're famous, too – you were Harry's girlfriend!"

A shadow crossed Ginny's face, darkening her cheerful expression, and Hermione regretted the words. Harry was a touchy subject with Ginny at the moment. Thankfully, the shadow lasted only an instant.

"Yes," Ginny said lightheartedly as she stepped onto the train, "I'm famous for having dumped the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"Ginny Weasley?" a voice rang out, and a carriage door slid open to reveal a tall, red-headed girl with a haughty expression. Behind her, her three friends sat craning their necks to get a better look. "And Hermione Granger and Looney Lovegood!"

"It's actually Luna," Ginny said coldly.

"I didn't think you'd come!"

"Of course we came," Hermione replied, puzzled. "Why do you say that?"

"Rumour has it you're all starting Auror training," the girl said. "But I suppose not. Hey, do you want to sit with us?"

"Um, well, we'd rather be alone, if it's all the same to you."

The girls looked disappointed, but as they closed the compartment door Ginny giggled. "Eighteen seconds," she announced. "Well, I wasn't too far off the mark."

"Closer than me," Luna sighed, handing her five Galleons, which Ginny, laughing, refused.

"It was a joke," she told her friend.

"This is... disturbing," Hermione said, looking at the door the girl had just disappeared behind. "I wasn't expecting them to be like this. It's... strange. I don't feel – "

Suddenly, Hermione felt someone lightly brush against her. "Step aside, Granger."

The voice was strangely familiar in a way that sent a shiver running up her spine. A voice she felt she hated, though she couldn't quite place it...

Hermione looked up, met a pair of lifeless grey eyes, and reflexively began to apologise. "Sor – Malfoy?"

At the trial, she hadn't been looking at him. Now, from up close, she barely recognised him. Not only were his eyes duller than she'd ever seen them, but his face was sickeningly hollow and emaciated, drawn and gaunt, the skin drawn tight over his cheekbones. His hair, slightly longer than she had ever seen it, completed the picture: he reminded her vaguely of Sirius just after getting out of Azkaban. (And he had been in Azkaban.)

"Please, Granger," he said, empathizing the word as though it were overrated.

A sliver of his old pride shone through in his tone, but the word please didn't even seem to require him effort to say. At least not in the way she'd have thought it would to someone like him – the way she was sure it would have just a year, two years ago.

"Right," she muttered, and stepped aside.

He moved past them and she stared after him, first in surprise, then out of pure curiosity. Malfoy was... changed. Paler than before. Thinner, too – not just the face. There were blueish shadows under his eyes, and he seemed smaller somehow – less proud, less sneering.

She shrugged – it was Malfoy after all, she wasn't about to complain that he wasn't sneering for once.

"That was weird," Ginny said, breaking the silence.

"He looked sick," Luna said. "And there's an empty compartment here."

Hermione smiled. It was good to see that Luna hadn't changed that much.

"Okay, so now we lock the door with as many spells as we can think of," Ginny said, eyeing the door warily. "Hermione, do you know a jinx that'll do what you did to Marietta Edgecombe if someone opens the door?"

After pushing Granger aside, Draco, reflexively, unconsciously and maybe stupidly, had made his way to his usual carriage. The one he had, up until now, always ridden to Hogwarts in.

Now he stood in front of the door, frozen, listening to the voices inside. He hadn't meant to come here; but, he realised, he didn't have a choice. All the other carriages he had passed on his way here had been occupied, and not by people who would revel in having him as company. So...

He couldn't bring himself to knock – because when had he ever knocked on this door? – but entering as though nothing had happened wasn't an option. He was debating whether to just stay in the corridor when the door slid open, revealing maybe the last face he wanted to see right now.

"Hey," Theodore Nott said. "Are you just going to stand there or are you coming in?"

Draco hesitated, then stepped in, trying to avoid looking at Theo. As soon as he had laid eyes on him, memories had flashed before his eyes. The Carrows, laughing. Theo, defiantly staring him down. And blood. So much blood...

He clenched his teeth and forced himself to look at the other occupants of the carriage. Next to the window, Blaise Zabini hadn't even bothered to look up from the book he was reading. Goyle, who had always hated his first name, was sitting across from him. Pansy was looking at him warily and without a trace of her former affection. And Theo was almost smiling, that hint of a smile that held more self-confidence than disdain. Theo was smart and his blood was pure, so Draco had learnt to put up with him when they were six years old – and, in a way, he had enjoyed their conversations.

"Draco," Pansy said coolly, and her tone was like a slap in the face for him. He hadn't realised how much he took her affection for granted. "You came."

"And you," he replied, trying not to let his uneasiness show.

She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder in a gesture he knew well and said, "Well, my parents insisted on it. It's not like I wanted to."

"It's not like anyone else wanted you to, either," Blaise said, finally looking up, but not at Draco. "You or any of us. We might as well stick together if we're to survive."

"You can talk," Theo said. "Your family aren't known Death Eaters. No-one close to you is in Azkaban. You could get by without us if you wanted to."

Blaise looked stung, but he quickly recovered. He gave Theo a look, then wordlessly went back to his reading.

"Well, hanging with him isn't going to help us in the least," Pansy said, indicating Draco with a long, painted fingernail.

"Like anyone could forget you were all over him for seven years," Theo sneered, which effectively shut Pansy up. She flinched at his next words. "Or that you're the one who screamed for us to catch Potter and hand him over during the Battle." Theo smiled, his expression softening. "Sit down, Draco, we won't bite."

The scowl Pansy gave him stung. She didn't even say his name, but the way she uttered the word "him" was so condescending, so cold. It was like she really didn't care about him anymore. Like she would rather she wasn't here. And the worst was, he couldn't blame her for it, after what he'd done to her.

Draco sat down stiffly and wished he had a window to look out so he would have a reason to avoid looking at his companions. These people had once been his friends, or as close to as you could get. Theo and Blaise were the only two people his age he had ever considered his equals, which had to mean something. Now he was at a loss for words. What could be said in this situation? Hey mate, did you have a nice summer? He knew they hadn't. Pansy, Theo and Goyle's fathers were all serving life sentences in Azkaban. Their entire families had been put on trial, and they had only narrowly escaped retribution themselves. They had probably received the same sort of letter from Headmistress McGonagall as he had: a You can come back, but if you don't behave, we'll expel you without a second thought letter. And they had to be somewhat envious or angry that his family had been cleared of all charges, even his father, who had been just as bad as theirs, if not worse.

"Have you seen?" Pansy said, not to anyone in particular, and probably just to break the silence. "The Mudblood has come back without her little boyfriends."

"Don't use that word," Draco hissed, so viciously that Pansy sank deeper into her seat. "I mean, don't," he said in a normal voice. "If someone heard you..."

"We're the only ones around," Theo said, looking at him curiously.

Draco held his gaze defiantly, daring Theo to say what they were both thinking. Draco himself had used the word many times, and had genuinely thought it, too. Why did it bother him so much now? The answer came to him, troubling. He wasn't over his blood supremacy ideas, but that word... That word brought him back to that day, to his aunt's brutal torture of Hermione Granger, the torture he had watched, the torture he had been asked to participate in... And whenever he heard it, he couldn't shake the images from his mind, couldn't forget Granger's screams, the fear in her voice, the hatred in her eyes... He had seen and done horrible things during his service to the Dark Lord, but there was no doubt in his mind that that particular scene was the worst.

Theo said nothing, but Draco didn't feel like he'd won anything. The look his former friend was giving him was unnerving.

Draco sunk back in his seat and was quiet for the rest of the ride.

And Draco is back. Can you tell I really like him? I mean, not in the he's-gorgeous-oh-so-hot-and-perfect way (though there's a bit of that, too). In the sadistic author way, like: he's perfect for my plans, he's gone through hell and he isn't even a hero, why not explore more facets of his life and torture him a bit more?

Chapter 15 is called "Personal Involvement."

Chapter 16 is called "Backbone."