Hermione strode purposefully through King's Cross Station, and tried hard to ignore the whispers that followed her. It wasn't her over-laden cart that attracted the attention, and the way one of front wheels squeaked, but the large and unsightly scar at the corner of her left eye -- a lovely gift from Bellatrix Lestrange.
It was a raised scar, red and still sensitive, fanning outwards and upwards into her hairline. Quite frankly, Hermione was grateful that the sickly yellow spell-beam hadn't taken out her eye, or worse. She still wasn't sure what the spell had been, but what if it was supposed to somehow… No. She wasn't going to think about the what if's.
It was no good to dwell on that sort of thing. Hermione snarled quietly at herself, and a Muggle a good three meters away paled considerably and hurried off in the other direction.
Chagrined, because she certainly didn't mean to go around scaring people due to her own inability to think clearly, Hermione quickened her steps towards Platform 9 ¾. She paused only long enough to ensure that no one was continuing to stare after her then fell casually into the brick wall.
As usual, Hermione was the first person to await the train. She didn't mind, as the time alone let her think quietly. Her thoughts wandered before settling onto the familiar question of what exactly had that awful woman thrown at her? Hermione was positive that it hadn't been an Unforgivable Curse… Sighing, Hermione wished for the umpteenth time that she could have heard the words. Then the matter would be to simply find the correct book, and what with her own invisi—
"Hermione! Blimey –" And then Ron was sweeping her into a crushing hug. He finally let go after she started making gurgling noises deep within her chest; really, the boy could forget his strength sometimes. Ron moved out of the way, still beaming at her, so Harry could get his hug. Hermione had to stand on her toes in order to wrap her arms around his neck, but he stood woodenly, unresponsive.
She reluctantly let go. It wasn't that she was attracted to him or anything of that sort, they were only friends, but Harry had changed a lot since the final meeting with Voldemort. He was angry now, and moody more often than not. And always bitter.
Ginny stood a few paces away, talking quietly with Neville; Hermione waved and gave a slight grin to show she was happy to see them, then turned her attention back to Ron and Harry.
"—up, things will get better," Ron was saying. Harry had a scowl on his face. Hermione decided that she needed to intervene.
"So you guys came to the station together?"
Unexpectedly, Harry was the one to answer. "Yeah. I mean, once Voldemort was gone, what point was there in living with my relatives? Rotten people." He continued frowning, and to stare off at some point above and to the right of Hermione's head.
Ron gave a weak smile. "So my mum invited him to our house for the summer. Fred and George were hell though-," Ron raked a hand through his hair, "they kept wanting to do tests on him, see if they could bottle the special properties they claimed Harry had."
Harry's scowl deepened. "They bloody tried to poison my breakfast." He shrugged angrily, showing his irritation.
Ron blanched. "Now Harry, they didn't mean--! I'm sure they had the antidote, you know how they are –"
Harry turned his cold gaze on Ron, who turned red under all his freckles then eventually quieted in his defense of his brothers.
"So, how was your summer, Hermione?" Harry asked offhandedly.
She couldn't stop the sarcasm from dripping into her voice. "Oh, fabulous. St. Mungo's is a real blast, you should try going as a patient sometime. 'Now drink this potion, dear,' and, 'Oh, not feeling hungry today, are we? They'll take away your privileges if you don't finish the pudding!' I almost rotted." Hermione bit off the last word angrily, glad to get it out of her system but at the same time concerned that she might have somehow upset Harry.
But Harry smiled faintly. "Excellent, then we all had truly amazing summers."
Ron tried to break in, "Harry, mine wasn't too bad—"
"Oh, shut it, we both know you were bloody miserable." Ron pressed his lips together firmly, and Hermione was strongly reminded of Percy. But better not to mention him. Ron then opened his mouth to say something rude, and Hermione cut him off quickly.
"Let's try to not get in a row now, hey? The train isn't even here yet."
"But it's coming now," Ron muttered darkly. Hermione patted his shoulder consolingly and whispered to him as the train pulled in, so Harry wouldn't hear:
"It's been tough for all of us, now, but Harry's had the worst of it."
Ron's face softened. "Yeh," he said, after a moment. Then he brightened, and said in a more normal-toned voice, "You're not so bad after all, Hermione."
"Thanks," she responded dryly.
The train lurched to a halt and a loud screech, and Hermione and Ron dutifully followed Harry onto the nearest car. Harry hurled his trunk onto the holdings, then did the same with Ron's and Hermione's. Ron carefully hung Hedwig's cage and Pig's onto hooks next to the window.
As Ron and Harry settled into their seats, Hermione stood leaning against one of the doors, worrying her upper lip. "Save me a seat, will you? I have to go to the front for a bit."
They waved her away and began a game of wizarding chess.
As Hermione made her way to the front, she absent-mindedly ushered first-years into compartments and answered their questions. Her mind was actually focused on Harry and Ron… Harry had emotional trauma, that much was obvious. But how was she going to help him if he refused, something he was very likely to do? She scowled slightly, not caring about her scar or if she frightened any students. And Ron. He had taken on a subservient role to Harry, and that certainly wasn't healthy for either one of them.
Hermione tugged gently at her coarse hair and sighed. The war was finally over, classes hadn't even started, and already her problems were lining themselves up for the next year. She entered the deserted last car only to realize that it really was the last car at the very end of the train. Biting off a curse, she whirled around to stomp to the front of the train when something bright caught her attention.
She took her wand out of her coat pocket in case her suspicions were right and cautiously approached the second-to-last compartment. Taking a deep breath, she stepped in front of the closed glass doors.
And there was that rat Malfoy, cornering some poor girl. Hermione's scowl deepened. It was just like him to be up to his dirty scheming on the - very – first - day! She rapped sharply on the glass with her knuckles, startling Malfoy into jumping away from his prey.
He turned to face the person who had interrupted him. Probably hoping to cuss someone out – "How dare you interrupt the Head Boy!" Hermione thought. She had to work very hard at keeping a smirk off her face as Draco realized it was none other than the Head Girl who had startled him.
"We're needed up front, Draco," was all she said before she began her long trek towards the front of the train. It was pure luck that she had found where Draco had been lurking. Regardless, Hermione was grateful that she didn't have to waste more time in having to go look for him, as she had already wasted enough time in going in the wrong direction.
She was less than halfway to the front when she realized she had made a very big mistake: never turn your back on your enemy. Hermione didn't quite break into a cold sweat, but it was close. Surely he wouldn't try anything with so many people around? But who would stop him? So many members of the D.A. had died or been grievously injured during the war, and there were no teachers on the train, what had she gotten herself –
"Nice scar, Granger," his voice oozed behind her. Hermione almost sighed in relief that he had chosen to not attack her. He sidled up next to her. "Is having a scar on the face the new trend? I mean, I know Potter's had one for ages, but I never thought you would be one to –"
"Shut up, Malfoy. Just, for once in your bloody life, set a good model." When he said nothing, Hermione glanced over at him to ensure that he wasn't going to hex her only to see his narrow, rodent-like face contorted into a furious snarl. Well, it was a step better than having him try to kill her.
They were both silent for the rest of the way as they arduously pushed their way forward. Hermione was contemplating what to go over with the prefects; Malfoy was probably considering various ways to humiliate her.
When they finally reached the front car, all of the prefects were waiting for them. Hermione cleared her throat in an embarrassed fashion, as she hated being late. Before she could begin speaking, Malfoy cleanly began.
"I'm Draco Malfoy, Head Boy, and this is Hermione Granger, Head Girl. Don't mind her scar now – her bark is worse than her bite." Hermione glared at him as he leered at the prefects, of which some tittered uncertainly.
She decided to ignore his insult. But inside she raged. How dare he undercut her authority! She covered up a strangled noise by coughing.
"Congratulations on being raised as prefects." It was difficult to pretend cheerfulness, but Hermione made a good show of it. "Your duties begin now. Other students will accept your authority more readily if you immediately change into your robes and don your badges."
Malfoy cut in. "Of course, you could always just mar your face a bit, like Granger here, and then –"
"Please forgive Draco, as he ate something that disagreed with him." But Hermione could feel the blood rushing to her face in embarrassment. How could he? She held her head up high, though. "Your duties for now will be to make occasional checks of the students, to make sure they are behaving. Report to me; I'm in Car 5, Compartment C. Malfoy should be … around. When we reach Hogwarts, gather the first-years and show them where to go. You are dismissed for now."
The prefects filed out noisily, excited. Hermione rounded on Draco. "Don't ever do that again. Ever."
"What?" His insolent grin made her sick. "Talk about your lovely scar? Granger, don't you like your scar? Now you look just like--!"
Crack. Her hand, his cheek. Hermione knew that it had felt too good. She couldn't resort to physical violence all the time. "Undercut my authority again, and I will have Dumbledore replace you. And it can be done, Malfoy."
The smirk was gone from his face. Hot anger bubbled dangerously behind his slate-gray eyes. "Don't hit me again."
"Don't undercut my authority." Hermione stood straighter, though at most this offered less than an inch over Malfoy.
They were both silent for a few minutes.
"Fine," he snarled. And he stalked out of the car.
Hermione stood there for a while yet, breathing deeply and fingering her scar. Then she, too, left, and headed for Car 5, Compartment C, so that the prefects would be able to find her.
Ron and Harry had abandoned their game, and the pieces shouted angrily at them to continue. But the trio sat in silence. The end of Voldemort had not made their lives any easier or simpler, as they had once expected.