Disclaimer: If I were J.K. Rowling, I'd be living in England. And be rich. And own the Harry Potter books. Since I am not any of those things, I am not she. End of story.
"Ron! Ron, over here!" Hermione Granger called out of a compartment that she was sharing with Harry.
She wasn't sure how they'd gotten separated, but she had a feeling it must have been some sort of imploration of Mrs. Weasley, wanting Ron to remember not to behave too rashly, or, and at this Hermione snickered, go looking for trouble, particularly of the Voldemort variety. Yeah...like they actually wanted to fight him and have a chance of getting killed, she mused. Ron, apparently having tried to ignore whatever it was, lit up and walked a bit faster to where his two best friends were sitting, stepping through and then closing the glass compartment door to give them privacy. Hermione wasn't exactly sure why they always managed to get a place to themselves—save for when Professor Lupin had joined them, or when they had been with Ginny and Luna—but she was grateful for it nonetheless. It meant they wouldn't get interrupted, for some Dark reason or another.
Unfortunately, that didn't mean it was exempt from annoying nemeses such as particular blonde-haired students that made their amusement by tormenting the three of them. She honestly wondered why they didn't have anything better to do. It's not like Harry, Ron, and Hermione herself warranted a huge barrage of insults; there were only so many even Draco Malfoy could come up with. Though that didn't mean he wouldn't try. In fact, it got to the point by now that it was almost amusing to find out what he would taunt them with next, and deciding whether he'd already mocked them with the same words. Such was the life of being at Hogwarts; never a dull moment, that was for sure.
"What's wrong, Weaselbee? Needed to kiss his mommy goodbye? Forget something? Well, I couldn't imagine that'd be hard to do, considering you probably have packed your entire shack's items…then again, with that brain of yours, who wouldn't be surprised that it slipped your mind?"
Ron's ears turned scarlet, whether out of anger, embarrassment, or a combination of the two, Hermione wasn't quite sure. What she did know was the caliber of her death glare she sent at Malfoy, it joining with Harry's fierce animosity. Out of her peripheral vision, she saw his hand go to his jeans' pocket, tightening around something she presumed to be his wand. If need be, her hand was ready to jump to her own wand. Between the D.A. and her own knowledge of spells and hexes, not to mention Harry's, Malfoy would be in for hell if he chose to be stupid enough to piss them off past a certain point. And he was getting dangerously close. Tempers were high these days, and even something as juvenile as one of Malfoy's cruel jibes could set them off. Hermione tended to be the levelheaded one, but she was known to have her moments, and Malfoy would be the first one she'd take her anger out on.
"You take that back, you dirty, foul little smartass!" Hermione retorted before she could stop herself, her own surprise joining Ron and Harry's at her swearing. She hadn't meant to, but she wasn't going to take it back. "You're no better than your filthy father, and you should stop acting like you are! Ron's a hundred times the man you are, Malfoy! So stop pretending like your better than him!"
"You—You know he's right, Malfoy," Harry interjected, taking a second to recover his voice. Really, thought Hermione, if I thought swearing would make them speechless I would've said it around Ron multiple times already. "We've been in school for so long; your petty grudges don't mean anything to us anymore. So just shove off, now. Unless you want to be covered in hex marks, I suggest you do what I say."
"Yeah, wouldn't want that pale face marred, now would we?" Hermione said sarcastically, although she found Harry's statement quite a lie. There was no way in hell they'd give up on hating Malfoy, no matter what Harry said.
Draco's eyes blazed, their icy fury penetrating. "Filthy Mudblood. You dare talk to me like that?" he said, his voice low.
"Malfoy," Hermione said indifferently, although she felt a rise or ire in her, and her hand reached farther for her wand. She saw Harry start to pull his out, but she placed a hand on his arm, then looked to Malfoy, defiance in her own eyes. "If you really are as smart as you claim to be, you'd come up with a better insult. I mean, seriously…'Mudblood' is getting a little old, don't you think?" she turned to Harry, a fake thoughtful expression on her face. "Now, what's your opinion, Harry; I can't decide—Impedimenta, Stupefy, or Petrificus Totalus? I'm trying to figure out which one would make him most undesirable. Not that he isn't already, but you know what I mean."
Malfoy scowled, almost a welcome relief from his usual arrogant sneer. Seemingly either not wanting Hermione to follow through on her implications of jinxing him, or else not wanting to get into too much trouble by higher-ups—even he wasn't stupid enough to get detention before they even reached Hogwarts—he stormed out of their compartment. Hermione let out a small sigh of relief, lying back against her seat. Harry relaxed his vise-like grip on his wand as Malfoy retreated, getting up to shut the door again.
"You know, Hermione, you really have a knack for pissing Malfoy off," Ron commented idly.
"Yeah, a fat lot of good that did me," she retorted. "He's just going to inflict his conceited wrath upon all of us when we get to school, you know that, right?"
Harry grinned at her. "I don't know, Hermione," he started. "I think he's still recovering from your massive slap in third year. That was quite a hit you got him with."
Hermione herself smiled at the memory. That was a good day, to say the least—she hadn't known exactly what had prompted her to so ferociously attack him like that, but she sure didn't regret it. Nor did she think she'd ever forget the mixture of shock and pain Malfoy had gotten on his face at that moment. She doubted that was the reason Malfoy retreated, but she appreciated Harry's compliment nonetheless.
"Yeah, well, you know me; violence extraordinaire," Hermione said sarcastically. She turned to Ron, before she could get any more reminders of that day, because while it was memorable, she really didn't want to dwell on the past. There were too many horrors in it, which she was afraid they'd come up if they weren't careful as to what they said. "So anyway, Ron, how was your summer? It'd have better have been more exciting than mine. We went skiing again—in the Alps, yeah, which was cool, I suppose, but I'm not too fond of the sport. I more prefer staying at Hogwarts and the things it entails there."
"Yes, because fighting evil wizards is just the most captivating thing ever," Harry said darkly. Hermione winced.
"It was okay," Ron injected before Harry's fury reared its ugly head again. They knew better than to inflate his anger, especially nowadays, and he and Hermione already sensed a Harry rampage coming on if they didn't watch it. "Just hung out at the Burrow, was force fed by my mother and Apparated on by Fred and George. They're incorrigible, I tell you. Spellcasting this way and that, nearly impaling people with forks or knives they've tried to enchant to magically feed them…and Ginny isn't much better. You do not want to get her angry at you, trust me. She's got a lot more than Bat-Bogey hexes up her sleeve, know that."
Hermione laughed, and she knew it all too well, though she, thankfully, hadn't been on the receiving end of one such jinx. "Oh, Ron, calm down," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "She's your sister. She's supposed to get on your nerves."
"Nerves!" Ron exclaimed, incensed. Pigwidgeon, his hyperactive owl, tweeted loudly as he started to zoom around the compartment, awakened from his sleep. Harry, with his Quidditch reflexes, reached out and grabbed him like a furry Snitch, restoring him back to his cage, this time locking it. Hermione shot him a look of gratitude. "She's impossible! She'll grow up to be worse than Fred and George! I'd tell her to go the Percy route, but he's still being an ignorant, insensitive, spiteful idiot, and though he was probably the most calm out of all of us, he was still as annoying as anyone else in my blasted family."
"Ronald Weasley, you do not mean that!" Hermione said crossly. She wasn't fond of Percy either, especially now, but that didn't mean she felt Ron could insult the rest of his relatives.
"Yeah, Ron, I think she's got a point," Harry joined in, a grin on his face. "If you're too mean to them, you may not get invited over so many times, or get your mother's awesome Easter eggs."
"All right, all right, calm down," Ron said, surrendering. "No need to get all spastic on me. I'm just saying, is all."
"Mhm, I'm sure," Hermione laughed.
Harry turned to her, adjusting his glasses. "So besides skiing, what else did you do? You can't honestly tell me that being on a mountain was all you did over the summer."
Hermione blushed, and Ron narrowed his eyes at her. "Well, I did write to Viktor again," she admitted quietly. Harry snorted at Ron's irritated look. "He's doing quite well, won some more Quidditch matches and did wonderfully on his exams this last year. But I am nearly hexing myself in the past days, you know. I mean, I haven't even gotten to studying for the N.E.W.T. Potions or Arithmancy tests!"
"Hermione," Ron and Harry groaned in unanimously. "Don't you ever give up on that? come on, relax a little. we've got until like the end of this year to—"
"Well, Ronald, unlike you, I actually have expectations to meet! You do realize that if I don't pass these, I'll never get into my career after Hogwarts! I can't afford to not get a head start!"
Harry sighed, recognizing full well this was a futile effort to try and get her to lie back on exams and job worries; it was just her nature. Plus, he reminded himself, he couldn't get too much on her back. After all, especially in Potions, she was one of the only people who could help him pass it. Moody had suggested becoming an Auror…it was the only thing Harry had actually thought seriously about, and he imagined that if he didn't work hard himself, he'd never be able to even apply for it. He wasn't completely sure what requisites you needed to have to get in, but he surmised the bar was set pretty high. Needless to say, this year would be hell for him if he didn't work himself to near death to make it worthwhile. And so at this grim thought, he took to staring out the window into the pitch blackness, turning away from Hermione's solid glare at Ron, who had decided to purposefully stare at his apparently very interesting luggage. This year would be fun.
A few hours later, the Hogwarts Express idled into the Hogsmeade station, wherein the carriages would take everyone up to the castle and to the sumptuous feast in the Great Hall, which many a student were quite looking forward to. As if to emphasize the point, Ron's stomach growled quite conspicuously, Hermione shooting him a reprimanding look, rather unimpressed with his actions. Harry, instead, opened the compartment door, stopping to grab Pig for Ron, who was obviously otherwise engaged with preventing himself from getting some spell put on him by Hermione. She was unpredictable when she was angry, and neither Harry nor Ron would benefit from her wrath.
Hermione hmphed, stepping out in front of Harry without a thank you, and although she semi-waited for the both of them to catch up—even in her vexation, she didn't want to split up again from them—she wasn't conversing too much. Harry only hoped this state wouldn't last long; he hated being the one in the middle of all their arguments. It got very taxing when they would each ask him separate questions, particularly in passing the food departments, when they full well could have asked each other. As far as he was concerned, they were far too advanced and experienced to be involved in such petty bickering, and it was irking that they still partook in it.
Stepping off the train and immediately wrapping their cloaks tighter around themselves—it felt about twenty degrees Fahrenheit outside—they huddled together, despite Hermione's supposed frustrations. She shivered, leaning closer in to Harry than to Ron, although he instinctively moved further towards them as well, as they all looked to the large, immaculate castle. Even though they'd gone to Hogwarts for years, it never ceased to impress them. They all doubted it ever would.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, the carriages came to a rest by the sign forking, one to Hogsmeade village, and one to Hogwarts, where people rushed in, in efforts to get clear of at least the biting wind, if not the chilling temperatures. Ron, Harry, and Hermione made to get in one of the closer vehicles, hoping to get one by themselves, when an all-too familiar drawl came through the darkness, closer than they had prejudged. All three groaned in unison, none of them wanting to be approached by a certain Slytherin.
"What do you want now, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, thoroughly exasperated and angry. Ron and Harry glared at him, for effect if nothing else. For a half a second, Ron glanced back behind him, nervously seeing a few carriages already departing.
"To discuss something with you, actually, Granger," Malfoy said, his voice flat but still smirking. Hermione raised her eyebrows. This, she hadn't exactly expected. An ill-placed insult, perhaps, or even a preemptive point deduction, but for him to talk to her? It wasn't something she predicted.
"And what, pray tell, would you have to say to me?" she asked, though the curiosity was fizzling out fast. The last thing she wanted was to talk to Malfoy, let alone talk to Malfoy and miss the ride up to Hogwarts. Walking there on foot definitely wasn't something she'd like to do.
"Well," he began, drawing it annoyingly out. "That's strictly on a need to know basis."
He stared at Harry and Ron, who glowered back at him, fully comprehending though not being clear on his meaning. They both looked to Hermione, who had been silent for a moment. "'Need to know basis', hmm?" she repeated, and he nodded curtly. "Well then, I'm afraid I can't help you. Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of them, and if you're not willing to, then clear out."
And with that, a smirk of her own as well as Harry's and Ron's, she hurried off to one of the last carriages, leaving Malfoy there with not a sneer, but a calculating smile. One that no one with a moral compass would have enjoyed. Swishing his own cloak around himself—despite everything, he did feel a slight chill blow through his hair and around his body—he, too, stalked off to the very last ride to the castle, ignoring the four people present in there, who were gawking at him. From what he could tell, they were neither Slytherins nor anyone close to his age (he assumed second years), which, by his standards, were unworthy of his attention. Instead, he revamped his plan for conversing with Hermione, as it was a rather important matter. He would talk to her whether she liked it or not. And while he was sure the latter was true, he was also convinced he'd find a way to do it anyway. One way or another.
So this is the first chapter revised…I hope it's better than my original, which, well, sucked in my opinion. I plan to redo the next chapters as well, in the hope that they will be better, also. Thanks for reading this in the first place, and I hope you enjoyed this better!
Appreciations to all,
written in dreams