Title: An Inevitable Fate

Chapter Five: A Brand New Day

Author: KissThis

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Rating: R - if not now, then later. Just shut up and read it.

Pairing: By your opinions you want it to either be H/Hr or D/Hr

Setting: 6th year in Hogwarts.

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Disclaimer: I was the one who came up with Harry Potter, but J.K. stole all my notes when I was baking brownies. *pouts*

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Comforting maroon and gold overwhelmed Hermione as she slowly crossed the threshold of the Gryffindor common room to the portrait leading to the prefect dorms. The gold-gilded frame held a painting of a young couple standing atop a building in Paris. Dark cloaks covered each of them making their features indiscernible, and in the background the Eiffel Tower glowed faintly with twinkling fairy lights against the evening sky.

"Password?" The girl asked twisting in the arms of her boyfriend.

"Crystal Waters" Hermione whispered in an undertone.

The door swung open revealing the golden interior of Hermione's private room.

"Are you gonna be ok?" Ron asked.

She leaned against the doorframe with her arms folded across her chest looking completely drained. The powerful, awe-inspiring young woman who had stood proudly before the Order with her strength circling about her was now sunken back inside the tired, young schoolgirl of seventeen years.

She exhaled slowly and brushed a strand of mahogany away from her face, "It doesn't really matter if I'm ok or not, does it? There's nothing anyone can do either way."

Harry looked up at her earnestly through his black bangs, "I don't envy you, 'Mione." He admitted easily. "I was in the spotlight, if wrongly so, for just a short time. But even so...it's gonna be tough on you."

Hermione ran her hands up and down her forearms in an unconscious attempt to rub heat back into her goosebumped flesh. "I know."

"But you've got us." Ron insisted determinedly, "You won't be doing it alone."

Hermione closed her eyes. That was the thing...she was alone. They couldn't help her do this; no one could. But Ron looked so vehement about staying with her that she kept her piece.

"Thank you, Ron." She smiled at him, but the three men gathered around her found it not to be of her usual soft and earthy quality. Rather, it was weak and strained. They exchanged glances.

"The meeting left me so tired. I'm going to bed. " She went on in a breathy whisper. "I assume Dumbledore will be making an announcement tonight, and I'd rather be elsewhere."

Draco nodded in understanding, but Ron wasn't so sure. "Do you think that's a wise idea of the Professor? He must know that some of his students are Death Eaters."

Hermione reached out and squeezed the redhead's shoulder. "It doesn't matter, Ron. Voldemort-"

Ron cringed. He was the only one.

"Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself." Hermione flashed back to when she had first spoken those words to Lucius Malfoy in Flourish & Blotts before the start of her second year.

"Hermione is right," Draco agreed. "It doesn't matter anymore, Voldemort already knows about her --"

" --And he's already started trying to kill me." Hermione finished for him. Her voice was soft -- mirroring the tired look upon her face.

There was no way for any of them to respond to that, so Hermione changed the subject. "I'll see you at breakfast."

"Right. Do you mind if I cut through your room? I don't fancy walking the long way to the prefect common room." Draco asked with a smirk.

Hermione laughed -- the first real one they'd heard since she'd arrived at Hogwarts. She smiled and the room instantly brightened and things seemed so much less depressing. "I don't mind at all."

He pushed the portrait open a bit farther and Hermione disappeared inside. Draco gave Harry and Ron a nod and a muttered 'Goodnight' before he slipped in after her. The portrait swung shut slowly after them.

Hermione watched Draco move past her and walk to her door that would lead to the prefect common room. She waited until he had opened the portrait before she turned to her closet.

"Hermione."

She turned around and found Draco to be paused halfway through her doorway. He look unsure and more than mildly uncomfortable, but his blue-gray eyes were unshielded and they were fixed on her. Hermione took his silence and used the time it opened to analyze the feelings and emotions mirrored in his blue-gray eyes.

Her amber eyes glowed, "What are you worried about, Draco?" She asked quietly.

"What isn't there to be worried about?" He replied with a half-hearted smirk.

Hermione nodded her head slowly in agreement while her fingers absently toyed with the golden gauze canopy of her queen bed.

"I know you're worried about me Draco, but--"

"But I can't help it."

Hermione looked up at him through her lashes. Her eyes flickered. She closed them for a time and let out a slow sigh.

"Draco--"

"Don't even think about telling me not to worry 'cuz it's not going to make any difference." Draco stepped back inside and moved to stand next to her.

A thought came to her and Hermione gave a little giggle. "You'll get gray hairs."

Draco couldn't help but smile. "I don't mind."

She reached out and playfully ruffled his platinum blonde hair. "Like you'd be able to tell with your bleached mop."

"Perhaps worry lines?" He suggested good-naturedly.

"And ruin your perfect Malfoy face?" Hermione pretended to look affronted, "It just wouldn't be natural! You should definitely stop worrying about me before the world goes completely topsy-turvy."

Draco leaned in with a smirk and his proximity made her amused laughter fade into weak giggles.

"Nice try." He whispered, his warm breath making her bangs flutter.

It seemed as if there was something more he wanted to say or do, but when Draco made no move Hermione gave a little laugh and gave him a good shove in the chest. The push sent him gently, yet unmistakably, in the direction of the door.

"We'll just have to break you of that habit," She mused. "Wouldn't want to turn you into a decrepit old man when your only eighteen, now would we?"

Draco tried to muster a smirk, but the seriousness of the matter was finally rearing its unwanted head over the humor and friendly banter. Rather, he barely managed to upturn his lips in the semblance of a smile. "Such a terrifying thought must be the source of many horrifying nightmares dreamt by the female populace."

Hermione couldn't help the snort of scorn and contempt that slipped passed her. He sounded just like the Malfoy she knew he always would be. He could change, of course -- anyone could, but he'd never truly become all sugar and rainbows like someone from Hufflepuff.

Hermione snapped back to the present.

"Don't flatter yourself, Draco -- half the male population is dreaming about you, as well."

Draco made a face. "Ew!"

Contrary to Draco's reaction, Hermione found her revelation amusing and wasn't hesitant to show her obvious enjoyment of his obvious discomfort. However, knowing that the minute Draco excused himself form her company she would be collapsing in exhaustion on her bed, she began removing the articles of clothing that could be disposed of without leaving her appearing indecent before her guest. Not that she had any problem being "improperly" dressed -- it was just impolite.

She pulled off her thick-striped tie without bothering to unknot it. The robe came next leaving her in her freshly washed and pressed white blouse and gray, pleated skirt.

"Are you one of them?" There was an odd tone to Draco's question that made her instantly suspicious.

"One of who?" She prodded. Her black Mary Jane's were thrown unceremoniously into the corner.

"One of the women who dream about me..."

"You've got to be kidding!" She exclaimed; even though she knew he wasn't. Her woolen-socked heels pressed hard into the floor. Her toes curled around plush maroon carpeting...in fact, being the only maroon thing in the room.

"It's just a simple question."

In order to avoid his gaze, Hermione plopped down on the bed and began to remove the gray stockings from her feet.

"Frankly, whom I dream about is none of your business."

"Is that a yes?"

She spared a glance only to give him a glare. "It means, I'm going to bed and that doesn't involve you."

Draco opened his mouth, most likely to make a racy comment about her poor choice of words, but appeared to have thought better of it because he closed it again.

"G'night, Hermione."

She smiled and watched him step through the portrait.

"Sleep well, Draco." She said in turn, and the portrait clicked shut behind him.

Dumbledore did make an announcement but, thankfully, Hermione was asleep for its entirety. She had assumed that it was going to be centered around the fact that totally cooperation was needed and that they should treat her the same as they would any other student; with kindness, respect, and courtesy. Yeah right.

Hermione woke to the plaintive chirping of her brand new alarm clock that sounded more like a strangled pigeon than any mechanical, monotonous alarm beeping she was familiar with. She didn't like it very much, and needless to say that shattered plastic pieces littering her shag carpet were evidence to the theory that a new alarm clock required procuring.

A quick shower and an equally brisk drying spell left her hair a bouncy mass of chestnut curls and her body feeling pleasantly "squeaky-clean". She then dressed swiftly; eager to get down to breakfast and her friends, and yet at the same time dreading running into any of her other schoolmates. Especially with Dumbledore's announcement still fresh in their minds. Well, it was inevitable -- she would've had to face them eventually for classes.

Everything always seems so.......inevitable.

Shaking it off, Hermione made sure she had everything for History of Magic before hoisting her satchel onto her shoulder and exiting her room. She opted to leave through the prefect common room remembering Dumbledore had described it as being "close to the Great Hall".

She hadn't yet seen the common area, having retired to her room through the Gryffindor tower the night before. It was coordinated in varying shades of purple with pewter being its metal counterpart. The room was beautifully designed mainly because of its creator's attention to detail. If one looked close enough they would see that the twisted banisters lining the stairs to the private rooms were covered with tiny metallic vines that crawled all the way up and down the length of the staircase. And the carpeted stairs gradually darkened as they twisted upwards until the surveyor wasn't sure if it faded into shadow or was merely dark in color.

Hermione, a perfectionist herself, found this haven of detail quickly becoming like a sanctuary to her.

She finally reached the bottom of the stairwell and took a few steps into the main landing of the room so that she could better study the layout of her new residence. Set in a half-circle before a giant fireplace was four separate loveseats. They were identical with their curved backs and armless sides, but each was made in a different color. Closest to the door was the one in red; for Gryffindor, with her name emblazoned on it in her lesser House color of gold. The sequence continued with blue, then yellow and ending finally with green. The rest of the room was pretty unremarkable. A few bookshelves, some tables, and the four doorways leading to each of the separate House common rooms.

Noting the time Hermione hurried out the door and down to breakfast. Silence descended upon the empty common room until, only moments later, a door opened above the private stairwell. It banged shut and was followed by heavy footfalls on the wine colored stairs. Jumping the last few steps Draco Malfoy unknowingly copied Hermione's footsteps, but exited the common room with a much more sedated pace.

In previous years Dumbledore's announcement would have completely shocked the entire school, but the nearing war had left the school desolate and half-empty. Students disappeared every month, and though Dumbledore tried as hard as he could, only a few were ever found again. She pushed the great doors inward and stepped quickly inside.

Everyone inside looked up at her and, as in most cases, the room's semi-lively conversation died down. But where, in happier times, there would be furtive glances and loudly whispered gossip there were only the lean and haggard faces of people who had gone through a great deal in only a short time. But whether they watched her now in thankfulness, respect, or suspicion she could still see the hope shining faintly within each pair of eyes.

Always in their eyes...

Hermione nodded in acknowledgement and continued her journey to the Gryffindor table. As she took her seat in between Harry and Ron she gave the House tables a quick scan. Small pockets of students were seated at each table but separated by large, depressing gaps of empty space -- they no longer had enough students to fill the tables. Hermione swore to herself that this day would be perfectly normal -- be like it would if all of this hadn't happened.

"Dumbledore did make an announcement last night." Ron confirmed scooping scrambled eggs onto his plate. "Did you hear it, 'Mione? Eggs?"

"Thank you. And no. I was already asleep, actually." She finished with the eggs and passed to dish on to Harry.

"It wasn't very interesting," Ron admitted through a mouthful of bacon. "He explained the prophecy and predictably went on about everyone treating you no different and so on. He also said to come to him or any of the teachers if you have any questions."

Hermione snorted, "I have some questions, but I don't think anyone has the answers."

Harry made an indistinct sound of compliance before he gulped down half his goblet of Pumpkin juice. "But at least they can help the other students sort through this right piece of news."

"True." Hermione slowly chewed through her French toast and took another quick glance around at the great hall, "How many didn't come back?" She gestured at the students, but Harry didn't need to motion to know what Hermione was referring to.

"A few. Around a dozen I'd guess. By now most people are resigned to the fact that their children's lives were threatened no matter where they were. At least here they'll be able to continue learning -- maybe stay alive a while longer."

"And Dumbledore is here as well." Hermione added.

Ron grinned and gave an enthusiastic thumbs up, "Brownie points for that!"

The trio shared a laugh, glad that once again Ron's humor had saved them from yet another depressing conversation.

Hermione finished eating shortly thereafter and wiped her mouth clean on a white, linen napkin. "History of Magic with Hufflepuff first thing."

Both Harry and Ron groaned loudly followed by Harry's head hitting the tabletop. "Why didn't I let Voldemort kill me..." He lamented dramatically.

Go on! Next Part!

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