AN: okay so im not sure how long its been since i last updated this thing. but here's the fifth chapter.
xXx
Recap: She had left Ron standing in the same spot as when he began his confession, not noticing the look of horror and hurt upon his face. She was too busy rushing through the corridor, peeking in compartments trying to find Harry, that she didn't hear the crack. Hermione didn't hear the shattering of a heart that beat only for her, the heart that had given itself to the cause of loving her. Hermione Granger, his know-it-all best friend, would never know everything. He wouldn't let her. As a tear streamed down his cheek, Ron vowed that he would not allow Hermione to find out the most vital of information that came to understanding him…that he loved her with all that he was, that she had broken his heart.
xXx
Chapter Five: A Sorting and a Surprise
Inhale…exhale…inhale…exhale. Draco's meditation technique's always helped to calm his ferocious temper. Ever since he was a little boy, still tottering around the Malfoy Mansion, Draco's fiery disposition was a nuisance. He'd demand things from the house elves, and when they refused his wishes, he would throw tantrums. Just like other witches and wizards, he made things happen without realizing it, and since his temperament was dangling on such a short fuse, these outbursts had damaging effects.
When he was four, his mother wouldn't get him a new toy broom (his old one was in very good condition), and while they were in the store, he ended up creating a mini-tornado, scattering all of the items in the shop. The clerk had a fit himself, and began throwing metal pots at them, screaming for them to get out of his shop.
And that was just one of the many tantrums of his toddler years.
As he grew older, his parents instilled the help of a meditation teacher, for Draco's outbursts just wouldn't be tolerated any longer. Within a week, the Malfoy household was a happier place for all.
And now he put his meditation skills to good use, taming his sullenness before he cursed someone into oblivion out of pure frustration. He had never done it before, of course, but he assumed it would be only too easy when he was angry.
Composed enough now to return to his friends, he left the bathroom after splashing some cool water on his face. The train was now passing gloomy forests, the darkness residing beneath the colorful plumage seeping into the early afternoon. A smile was born upon his lips as he stared out into the weaning day. He was going back to Hogwarts, where he belonged, away from his father.
Everybody thought that because of what his father was, Draco was inevitably doomed to the same fate: loyal servitude to Voldemort. But Draco had other plans for himself. Plans that he had to keep secret from his father.
Turning away from the window, Draco made his way back to Crabbe and Goyle. They were sitting there, stupidly as always. Why did he hang around with them? They never held intellectual conversations; the two cronies were far too stupid to be good conversationalists in that department.
"Come on," Draco urged, sliding open the door to the compartment. "Where are we going?" Crabbe asked, heaving his bulk up off the cushiony seats. "To harass Potter and Weasley of course," Draco replied with a smirk. Crabbe and Goyle guffawed with delight.
xXx
Harry was by himself when Hermione finally found him. He was staring at a spot across from him, lost in his thoughts and memories. Hermione opened the door and slipped silently inside. She sat watching her best friend, watching the boy-who-lived, for a few minutes. He noticed her out of the corner of his eye, looked up and smiled at her.
"Hey," he said, genuinely happy to see her. "Hi," she replied nervously. "Can we talk?" Harry nodded in agreement, and Hermione took the seat next to him. "I know," she whispered, twiddling her thumbs. A quizzical look passed over his face as he asked "Know what?"
Hermione lifted her gaze from her restless thumbs to his enchanting green eyes, bracing herself to tell him that she felt the same as he. It was still so unbelievable to the girl. "Harry, I know how you feel, and…well, I feel the same." She was oblivious to the look of confusion in his eyes as she leaned closer, decreasing the space between their lips.
His emerald eyes widened in surprise, but he didn't resist when they're lips finally met. Soft and experimental. But there were no sparks, no fireworks, no feeling of being stuck to the seat, unable to move. When they finally parted, the silence was so thick you could cut it with a butter knife.
"Uh…uhm…" Hermione muttered, mortified by her spontaneous behavior. All feelings for Harry had diminished at the moment they had separated, and all she wanted from him now was their friendship, unchanged by the kiss. If she had lost that by acting upon her impulses a few moments ago, she would never forgive herself. Never. Harry spoke first.
"How about we keep this little…erm…incident to ourselves? I'm sure we both felt the same thing." "Which would be?" she asked. "Well, nothing, really. We're better at being friends, and I think we both know that." "Agreed," she responded, letting out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.
"So," she continued, acting normal, trying to forget what had just happened, "you look good, Harry, like you've been working out." Harry proceeded to tell her how he had began working out to keep his mind off the loss that was Sirius. He said that the pain in the stressed muscles after a hard work out kept him occupied enough to dull, ever so slightly, how much he missed his godfather.
Ron walked in then, hiding any emotions he was feeling deep inside, remembering his vow to himself. She will not find out. "Hey, Ron," the two said together, welcoming the third member of their trio. "Hi," he said, playing his part perfectly. The Golden Trio began to chat about all sorts of things (quidditch, who is Head Boy and Girl, their summers, etc.), and this conversation carried them to sunset, and when they were interrupted by Malfoy.
Hermione's flinch was obvious the moment she saw Draco, and the platinum blonde's mouth curved into an evil smirk. He took pride in frightening the mudblood. "If it isn't Potty and Weasleby," he said, leaving the girl out. "Sod off, Malfoy," Ron said, not in any mood to deal with the ferret boy.
"That insult — if you could even call it that — is getting a bit old, don't you think?" Malfoy asked. "Leave, Malfoy." Harry rose from his seat, trying the polite approach with his voice, but showing Malfoy how he had 'matured' over the summer, hopefully instilling a bit of intimidation in him. If he had succeeded, Malfoy covered incredibly well for his surprise.
The Slytherin gang in the doorway began to laugh uncontrollably. "As if we'd leave because you told us too. Granger," Draco said, turning his gaze upon the girl that had invaded his dreams the previous night. "Why are you so quiet? Normally you can't keep your mouth shut, always spewing answers, even when you aren't asked. Are you sick or something?"
His inquiries weren't meant to show concern towards the girl, but they were more like statements of his curiosity. Hermione's courage returned and she replied to Malfoy in a steady voice. "Actually, I am sick, Malfoy. I'm sick of you, ferret boy. Now, get out." She drew her wand. "No need to be hostile, mudblood. Remember — the bookshop." With a lasting sneer, the Slytherins departed.
"What does he mean, 'the bookshop?'? " Ron asked. "It's nothing," she replied a little too quickly. Ron's brow furrowed in suspicion, but asked no further questions. Soon after the encounter with the Slytherin prince and his cronies, Hermione brought up the subject of the Order of the Phoenix, and their duties now that they were part of the elite organization.
"So, Dumbledore is asking us to keep an eye on the students," she began. Ron interrupted her. "Why do we have to play look out when Dumbledore is right there at school? I don't see the point —" "Ron, the students are more likely to be guarded around Dumbledore than they would be around their peers. Simple logic. Anyways, we need to pay special attention to Slytherins for Dark Arts activity. That house is, after all, the house that has produced the most dark witches and wizards of the age. And Malfoy's father is obviously a Death Eater, so Malfoy will have a lot of influence on that house. We need to tread carefully."
Harry nodded in agreement and said, "Even people from other houses should be held under suspicion. Death Eaters didn't all come from Slytherin." "Good point," Ron added. Silence reigned in the compartment for a few moments, and a grumble from Ron's stomach sliced through the uncomfortable quiet, making the trio laugh.
"I'm starved!" Ron exclaimed, clamping a hand on his stomach. "Obviously," Harry muttered. "We should be arriving in a few minutes," Hermione said, looking at her watch. "We should get changed."
xXx
Within ten minutes, they arrived at Hogsmeade Station. Lamps threw their warm light into the pitch dark of the village streets, presently deserted. Students began to file out onto the platform, excitement coursing through the veins of returning pupils, and anxiety running through the tiny first years.
Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way over to the stairs that lead to the service road where seemingly horseless carriages awaited to take the older students to the school. While looking at the thestrals as he and his friends continued toward Hagrid, Harry found a new sense of beauty in the gleaming beasts. To him, they no longer represented the fact that he had seen a person die, two people in fact, but that beauty can come out of despair, if you were only willing to search for it.
"All right, you three?" Hagrid asked, as the trio passed by on their way to the carriages. The giant's voice droned on, beckoning the first years towards him.
"Move out of the way!" a voice called, and Harry, Hermione and Ron were shoved forcibly away from the stairs. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle glared at their rivals, passed in front of them, and were soon disappearing in a coach headed toward the castle.
"He is THE rudest, most chauvinist, pompous prat I have ever known!" Hermione said with vehemence. The two boys laughed, with a "You got that right" from Ron, and managed to get a carriage for themselves.
No one said anything on the ride to the most prodigious wizarding school in all of Britain. The castle came into view within five minutes, lit by the moon on a most wondrous backdrop of indigo spotted with stars. Soft lights emanated from the windows set high in stone, warming all who saw them, heightening everyone's yearning and anticipation of returning to what most considered a second home.
A few moments later, the carriage that had transported the three adventurers arrived at the great oak front doors, leading to the Entrance Hall. Before going into the castle, Harry gratefully patted the thestral that had brought them here, then sent it on its way.
Hermione inhaled deeply, taking in the freshness of the air; this far from muggle cities, the air was purer and was not polluted by automobile exhaust as was London or Kensington. The crisp air filtered through the Hogwarts Golden Girl and gave her a sense of belonging, unlike her muggle home. She was away from her father and nothing mattered more than that.
Ron and Harry followed her into the castle and then the Great Hall. Three quarters of the students were already seated at their respective house tables, and a low drone was issuing from each as friends reunited after spending the summer apart.
Hermione took a seat next to Ginny, and the two boys took seats across from her. Ron stared continually at the golden plate before him, impatiently muttering under his breath about how slow time was moving. However it wasn't five minutes before the new first year students marched into the Great Hall, led by McGonagall, who carried the Sorting hat and a three-legged stool.
Hagrid sauntered into his seat at the end of the staff table, and watched his female colleague intently. Every head turned, looking expectantly at the torn and tattered wizard hat. And it then began to chant:
A thousand years and more ago,
Far before your time,
I was here and newly sewn,
Clean, no dirt or grime.
The founders four enchanted me
With the ability to choose
Which house a child belonged in,
To which house they would be true.
Godric Gryffindor was keen to those
Who were brave of heart.
Their courage knew no limits,
All were loyal from the start.
Rowena Ravenclaw desired
A group whose minds were bright.
Intelligence was held very dear,
With knowledge, they could fight.
Children of pureblood descent
Mattered to Salazar,
The house of Slytherin could assure
That these kids would go far.
Dear Helena Hufflepuff
Would turn no child away;
Virtues of hard work and fun
Allowed pupils a comfy stay.
So I was made to carry on
The sorting of young minds.
To keep peace within these stone walls,
To help this school shine bright.
So put me on and trust in me
I haven't been wrong yet;
You'll love the house I put you in
Your place you won't regret.
Applause rang out through the hall as McGonagall drew a piece of parchment from an inner pocket of her bottle green robes. "When I call out your name, you will sit upon the stool and place the hat upon your head. When it calls out your house, you are to take a seat at the respective table," she announced.
"Ashenbury, Kaiden!" Professor McGonagall called out, and a little girl with jet-black hair almost to her waist stepped forward. Although so small, she showed no signs of fear as she crossed to the stool and hat. In fact, she disembogued with confidence.
With startling grace, as if every twitch, every tender gesture was premeditated, she set the hat atop her head with a smile. After a few moments, that hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" and Hermione cheered with the others of her house.
Kaiden took of the Sorting Hat and placed it gently upon the stool, then strolled easily to the closest vacant seat at the Gryffindor table, which happened to be next to Hermione.
"Hello," the girl said, flashing a brilliant smile. "Hi," Hermione returned, cheerfully.
A closer look at Kaiden revealed beautiful violet eyes with dashes of gold in them ; a most unusual combination of colors, but they blended wonderfully. Her dark lashes complimented the hue of her iris, and were of contrast to her semi-tan skin-tone.
"Cambridge, Jacob!" became a Ravenclaw, as did "Clemons, Isaac."
The line of first years began to dwindle, but no student had captivated Hermione like Kaiden had. Another girl, named Rebecca, had joined Kaiden, but they couldn't have been more different. Kaiden had hair the color of the blackest night, whereas Rebecca was the lightest of blondes. Rebecca's eyes were an enthralling shade of cerulean blue that sparkled when she smiled; the blonde also had dimples.
The two girls were deep in conversation as Hermione studied them, and as the last name was called ("Zachary, Melinda!" ; Slytherin) both Rebecca and Kaiden turned and stared at Hermione. "What's your name?" Rebecca asked, clearly unperturbed by the interest Hermione was showing in herself and Kaiden. "Oh, um… I'm Hermione Granger. Sixth year." "Nice to meet you, Hermione," the girls chanted cheerfully, and turned their attention to the staff table, where their headmaster had risen at last.
"A few words before we gorge ourselves on another magnificent feast: First years would do well to remember that the forest located on the school grounds is off-limits. Under no circumstances are you to ever enter it. Also, for those interested, Quidditch tryouts will be held within the next two weeks. Please see the following team captains to learn of the date. Hufflepuff's captain is Ernie Macmillan; Ravenclaw — Cho Chang; Gryffindor will be led by Harry Potter, and the Slytherins by Draco Malfoy. Other start-of-term notices can wait until we've all eaten our fill. Now…let the feast begin!"
The silvery-white haired man sat down and began to load his plate with food, as did everyone else in the Hall. Hermione turned her head when she felt a purposeful tap on her right shoulder. Kaiden was looking at her imploringly. "What can I help you with?" Hermione asked gently.
"Who's Harry Potter?" Kaiden's face was contorted into a look of polite interest, as she continued. "I know he's famous. I just don't know what for." Smiling, Hermione told the two girls next to her about Harry's triumph over the Dark Lord when he was just a year old, and also of her contingencies with him over their years at Hogwarts.
"And he happens to be that boy, right there." Hermione pointed adamantly at her raven-haired friend, who looked up when he sensed three pairs of eyes on him. "What?" he asked, perplexed by the stares coming from the three ladies. "These girls didn't know who you were. No need to worry though, I've filled them in on your whole life story, Harry." Hermione smiled jovially, and began to eat her own dinner.
The hall was full of comfortable chatter as students began to be affected by full stomachs and the warm atmosphere. McGonagall came over to Hermione soon after the clink of cutlery had subsided, and students' eyelids began to droop from fatigue. "Miss Granger," she started, looking into the bright, intelligent eyes of her favorite student. "The headmaster would like to meet with you after the feast in the chamber off the hall. You remember, the one where the champions went after they're names were drawn." "Yes," Hermione replied. "What for?" With a smile, the transfiguration teacher said, "You'll have to wait and find out yourself; but don't worry about a thing, Miss Granger, you'll be thrilled by his news, I'm sure." And with that, McGonagall returned to the staff table and began to talk with Professor Sprout.
Ten minutes later, Dumbledore rose to his feet, and the hall fell silent immediately. A smile lit the headmaster's eyes with a satisfied twinkle as he began to speak. "Another Start-of-Term feast has gone by and I think I speak for us all when I say it was simply delectable." A murmur of assent coursed through the house tables. "Now I am sure many of you are wondering about the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, as I'm sure you've noticed there is an empty seat here at the staff table. I think I must warn you all now, that your new teacher, Professor Amanda Wellston, is American, and also a vampire." A collective gasp from the students was heard, echoing in the room. However, Dumbledore plunged on. "Now, now, don't be alarmed. She is perfectly harmless, I assure you. Professor Wellston is one of the most intelligent women in America, having graduated both from muggle and wizarding school. Despite being a vampire, she does not drink blood, human or otherwise. I'm sure she'll tell you during class all about herself, so I see no point for me to continue on telling you of her history. You are all probably weary and ready for bed. So off you go!"
Conversations broke out the moment Dumbledore was through as students followed the prefects to their respective house dormitories. Hermione hung back, telling Harry and Ron she'd see them in the morning. When the hall was deserted, albeit a few stragglers, Hermione made her way between the house tables toward the chamber where Dumbledore awaited to speak with her.
Her eyes were fixated upon the ground, thoughts running through her head. What reason could Dumbledore possibly have to speak with her so early in the year? These factors were what had occupied her so thoroughly, she was at the door to the chamber before she knew it.
Hermione knocked on the polished door, and tentatively stepped inside. Closing the door behind her, she looked up and the sight that greeted her was the last thing she would ever have expected.
Eyes wide, she said, "Malfoy!"
AN: Okay so what is it that Dumbledore would like to talk to Hermione and Draco about, hmm? Sorry this was a boring-ish kind of chapter, butI needed it in order to go into chapter six! and that should be up within two weeks ((I'm hoping)) Review please and recommend to others if you enjoy it!