I sadly do not own the potter world :sigh:

Malfoy

Hermione turned her head from the rain-splattered window and glanced at her friends. Ginny, now in her sixth year, was leaned against the window sleeping under a blanket of her thick, red hair. Hermione watched her sleeping, jealous; she was too excited to sleep but too bored to stand being awake. Harry and Ron were talking animatedly about their favorite subject in between inhaling the snacks Harry had bought. Hermione declined to get involved. Quidditch talk didn't suit Hermione much - she could never get the names right. They were, of course, they were talking about quidditch now.

"Do you remember the Wronski Feint Krum did at the Quidditch World cup?" Hermione's scarred friend asked.

"Krum was amazing! I still can't believe the Irish seeker fell for that!" Ron responded, fervor making his blue eyes big. Hermione watched specks of food and spit fly between her friends, slightly nauseated.

She turned away and looked back out the window. As exciting as the blurred scenery was, she had been looking out the Hogwarts Express for about forty-five minutes now and needed a break.

"Harry, Ron, I'm going for a walk, okay?"

Harry and Ron glanced at her. "Sure, Hermione!" Harry told her, already forgetting what she said. "Whatever you say!" Ron called as she picked up her bag and scurried between them.

Hermione left the carriage and gingerly closed the door, new laptop in hand. She had gotten it during the summer as a bribe. She had gone to America with her parents to "get away from it all." They were worried about her; she had told them about You-Know … Voldemort and they didn't handle it well. As if you could ever get away. She was against going at first - there was so much work to be done; but they had bribed her with electronics and reluctantly she had gotten on the plane. Despite her hesitance, she did have a good time. She had met some nice people in New York, where they had stayed. The first time she saw her new friend, Aimee had come over to her from the corner of the dimly lit dinner theater and pull her tight ponytail, whispering "Hey, gotta light?" When Hermione, shocked, had told her she didn't smoke, Aimee just smiled. "You've got to learn how to relax, bobby". After that night, Hermione saw Aimee quite a few times during the holiday and managed to learn a few things about unwinding. Plus, Aimee had really helped her look older than twelve. The final product of Aimee's teaching was a slightly more confident Hermione who got annoyed at her British friends a little more easily. Now when she looked in the mirror, Hermione didn't notice the buckteeth and frizz; she saw curly hair tamed by length (and amazing anti-frizz serum), a confident gaze, and a straight back. She saw a Head, which is exactly what she wanted.

Hermione stood outside the closed carriage door for a while, thinking about the summer, when she heard a noise coming from the end of the hall. Snapping back to the present, she turned right and headed down to the end of the corridor. After all, she was Head Girl, she thought with a smile, and it was her duty to find the problem and solve it. Hermione walked down the hall, looking for a disruption. She scanned every carriage until she was in the very back of the train. There was no sign of the source of the commotion, so she went into an empty carriage and opened her laptop. Just after signing on, she heard the noise again. This time it was more decipherable; Hermione could tell it was someone yelling. Opening the carriage door silently, she looked out into the hall and didn't see anyone. She had started to step quietly onto the carpet when she saw the carriage door diagonal from hers open with alarming speed. Startled, she drew back into the cubicle until her head was barely showing and saw, to her surprise, Pansy Parkinson run out of the carriage crying.

'Wow!' she thought. 'Who could make that girl cry? They must really be a dick. '

Draco Malfoy followed Pansy out of the carriage. "You heard me! You're too much a whore. Is that hard concept to understand? Get away and stop sniveling!" Pansy fled down the corridor sobbing while Malfoy stood there, fists clenched and nostrils flaring. Hermione was shocked. Finally registering what she had seen, she stepped into the hall.

Malfoy heard her footsteps and whipped his head towards her. In what seemed like an instant, he had crossed the hall and pulled her forcibly into her carriage, shutting the door with a muted slam.

"What are you doing here?" he snarled. Hermione looked at him with wide brown eyes; she didn't respond.

"Answer me!" Draco demanded.

Regaining her composure Hermione asked coldly, "Am I not allowed to have my own carriage?"

Malfoy glared at her. "You could have gotten one up-front," he said, his clenched hands shaking slightly, trying to gain his composure.

"And what if there were none?" she asked, looking daggers back.

Draco said nothing. He just gave Hermione his worst look and stomped out of the carriage, leaving Hermione alone and surprised.

After she heard Malfoy's carriage door slam, Hermione slumped down to the red leather bench next to her laptop.

"Shit." she exclaimed weakly. "It was a dick who made Pansy cried. It was Malfoy."