Chapter One

I... I came here by day, but I left here in darkness And found you, found you on the way And now, it is silver and silent, it is silver and cold You, in somber resplendence, I hold

- Silver and Cold, AFI

For as long as he could remember, Draco Malfoy had been flawed. A series of imperfections drifted lazily in and out of his beautiful face. From the face and body that lacked nothing, there was so much left to desire. With this thought, Malfoy tugged angrily at the tie that refused to straighten, and swept his long, black cloak over his shoulders and strode out to meet his father.

They stood, side by side, each man daring the other to speak first. Malfoy schooled his face into impassivity; he knew his father would be the first to speak, he always was.

"So, it is time." There was an almost imperceivable sneer in the words. Malfoy knew that sound all too well. "There were some who began to doubt you. It was embarrassing to me, boy."

"How very disappointing for you." Draco kept his voice level. The two stared at each other. A mirror of the same handsome face, surrounded by the same halo of blonde hair. The age old game of chicken began - who would turn away first? Draco could feel his eyes begin to water, and swiftly turned away to hide the blush of crimson that flooded his cheeks.

"Come, father, we've delayed long enough. To the ceremony." Both men apparated, leaving only an indendation in the earth where both had stood.

Chapter Two

"There are some things you can't learn from a book," thought Hermione Granger coyly. She glanced over to her boyfriend in the drivers' seat as the wind whipped Hermione's hair in a mad dance around her shoulders. A small smile insinuated its way onto her face, finally breaking wide into a show of pearly teeth. This summer she had, in no particular order, told Ron to bugger off and find another girl to obsess over, found someone she could obsess over, and spent most of her summer doing just that.

Hermione's face and figure, though maturing into that of a young woman, were nothing much to marvel over. Her hair had, much to her dismay, remained thick and curly ("bushy", her friends still said), her nose remained pert with a sparse covering of freckles; her mouth was a spring blossom pink. However, Hermione's eyes were something altogether different: they stood out as the facets of a jewel, cinnamon brown with specks of gold. They were, she thought, her best feature.

Sighing into the leather of the seat, she nestled into the side of Hugh's shoulder, knowing the summer, and the illusions that went with it, would soon come crashing down. She had not told Hugh she was a witch, it had never come up – and why would it? And now, to explain to him that in three days she would leave for a school that could not be found by him, and love letters would arrive by owls, seemed too overwhelming a commitment for a summer fling.

It had been a good summer, she reflected, and now I'm ready to go back where I belong.

Chapter Three

Platform 9 ¾ bustled with the energy of a thousand witches and wizards preparing to leave for another year of learning. Struggling to keep her head above the sea of much higher faces, Hermione made out a tall, beacon of red hair, belonging to one Ron Weasley, preemptively dumped boyfriend. Seeing the freckled, lanky boy, Hermione let out a squeal and rushed towards him, landing squarely against his chest.

Malfoy, on the other hand, could see no reason to run towards any of his friends. He was, in fact, thoroughly disgusted by the display of Granger charging past him to get to her Weasel-boy. Grudgingly though, he admitted that Granger looked far better than he had ever remembered: creamy long legs offset a petite waist, leading to a face that was much improved from the bucktoothed mess of a girl of previous years. Still, he told himself, she was not attractive, not at least, compared to the beauties that were Parvati, Lavender, and Pansy. And, he thought with another smirk, they were easy. Malfoy pivoted sharply away from the crowds of children, turning to say goodbye to his father.

"Remember, boy, do not disgrace our family. And do not do anything stupid – remember, you serve more than just your family now." Lucius gaze fixed itself pointedly onto Draco's left arm and looked up swiftly again. "Goodbye."

Pushing his way firmly through the mess of kids funneling their way onto the Hogwarts Express, Draco strode confidently towards the front of the train. Draco, it seemed, had two new features, and one was a shiny Prefect badge, positioned perfectly on his chest. And, from what Draco had glimpsed on Granger's, it appeared that they would be working in close quarters for the year. Well, he though devilishly, I'm sure there is some way I could make that arrangement a little more...agreeable.