The scarlet steam engine puffed grey clouds into the sky, sounding a loud whistle. Students of all ages were frantically storing their trunks and saying goodbye to loved ones, the train was about to depart any second. There were forty or so eleven-year-olds crying as they clung to their mothers, being separated from their parents for the first time. Owls hooted overhead, cats clawed their way through underfoot, and the noise almost drowned out the engines departing warnings.
Just one person stood still. A red haired boy of about seventeen. His bag was stored, his parents were gone, and he tapped his foot impatiently on the platform as he waited.
A black haired boy stuck his head out from the compartment window and called to the individual.
"Ron, she's probably already on the train, looking for us, we're going soon, so get in!"
"Harry, I told her we'd meet here, and we are going to meet here!" He pointed to the floor beneath his feet, before crossing his arms again. "God damn it, I see Malfoy's mother hasn't killed him yet." He said as an arrogant looking blonde swaggered through the barrier and ordered his servant to stow his trunk. With a smirk at Ron, he then disappeared into a compartment a little way up.
"Look, Ron, they're shutting all the doors!" Harry beckoned him in.
"Where is she?" As if on cue, a small, bushy haired teenager came bounding towards them, a bandy-legged cat in hot pursuit. They came to a stop at the spot where they were to meet the others and the girl gave him a small smile.
"I'm sorry I'm late, It's been crazy."
"That's alright Hermione. I was just worried you'd missed the train." He passed her trunk up to Harry, who stowed it with theirs, then slid his arm around her waist, helping her up the step until they were both inside the train. A few seconds after all three of them had settled into their seats, the train started moving.
"Are you alright, Hermione?" Ron asked as she yawned for the millionth time. He reached out to put his arm around his girlfriend.
"Dandy." She yawned again and leaned against the window, not noticing Ron's attempt to embrace her. "Just tired I guess."
"Where've you been all summer? I haven't seen or spoken to you in weeks."
Hermione sighed, "Oh, you know, busy all the time, hardly had a moment to myself."
"I've missed you so much, what have you been doing?" He looked at her, but she kept her gaze out the window.
"My parents sent me to America for a month," she said distractedly.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Harry, who up until this had been silent, facing them, leant forward.
"I didn't have the means too, I went travelling with my Aunt and Uncle, who are both muggles and don't know about magic, so I couldn't find a wizarding post office to owl you. I think we all know how bad it is to try and contact either of you the muggle way."
"Yeah, maybe." He leant back again with a puzzled expression on his face. The compartment fell into silence again.
They were still sitting in silence for ten minutes. Harry ached to say something, ask Ron how he'd summer had been, but the mood that was surrounding Hermione seemed to suck up all sounds and potential sounds. Try as he might, he couldn't form a sentence in his head that would come out his mouth.
The arrival of the witch with the cart broke the silence for a little while. Harry bought most of the cart so that they could busy themselves eating, therefore having an actual excuse not to talk.
When half the food had been depleted, he got annoyed. "Hermione, what's wrong?"
Hermione jumped at the sudden sound and he could almost see her come crashing into the present. "Hmm?"
"What's wrong?" He repeated patiently.
She looked at him oddly for a second, then laughed. "Sorry, I was spacing."
"What were you thinking about?" Ron said with a mouth full of pasty.
"Stuff." She said and sighed, lightly bouncing her head on the window.
The minutes ticked by and all sound dried from Harry's throat, like water into a sponge, until it had expanded so much that he felt he could hardly breathe in the rigid, tense air.
Then the door slid open, three pairs of blank eyes turned to see the blonde who had just strutted in. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Malfoy drawled. "Are you all so stupid that holding a conversation is too much like hard work? Or has the weight of your own incompetence shocked you all into silence?"
"Eat dung, Malfoy." Ron growled, Malfoy just smirked.
"Still the same old childish insults I see. I would have thought you would have grown up and found better things to do in your spare time." His eyes slid round to Hermione, who stared solidly back. "Or maybe you keep those to yourself, your dirty little secrets." Ron's face grew redder and Malfoy's smirk got wider, but Hermione merely stood and glared at him.
"We all have our dirty little secrets, I'm sure if even some of them came out it could, oh, say, ruin a reputation of a high standing Slytherin? We couldn't have that." Malfoy looked at her with an odd expressionand nodded.
"Fine, whatever, I merely came in here to inform you that a prefect meeting is going on." He turned to Harry. "Truly sorry, but that counts you out, maybe you can sit here and read up on yourself in witch weekly?" He turned and left.
"What the hell was that?" Ron turned to Hermione, grinning. "Have you got some dirt that will ruin Malfoy's reputation?" His eyes shut in bliss. "Please, go on."
"Oh, shut up, Ron." Hermione snapped irritably, "Where would I get some of Malfoy's dirt?" Ron sighed.
"True." Then he looped his arm around her shoulders. "Well, prefect duties call."
"Sorry, Harry, but we have to go." Hermione looked sympathetically at the boy.
"Just go," it was his turn to be irritable, were they going to be sympathetic about their prefectship all their lives? The others left him to his thoughts.
That evening, they all filed off the carriages and into the great hall. Hermione seemed to have perked up a bit during the train journey, and was chattering away about her trip to America, Ron listening avidly. It seemed she had gone all over the place, from Texas to New York. The place she most enjoyed, strangely, was Las Vegas.
"It was so weird," she said to Ron. "It was surreal, flashing neon lights everywhere, and so many casinos you don't know where to look. I've read about the place in books of course, but it was just too unreal." After this short and strange statement, she fell into silence.
This was because the new students were filing into the hall, clinging together as if they were facing the electric chair. When an old, three-legged stool was placed infront of them, they looked at it suspiciously.
McGonagall rattled off the names and they were sorted in the usual way, but one name struck a chord with everyone's favourite Gryffindors. "Malfoy, Helena." To this name a little girl with platinum curls stepped forward and sat on the stool. She had a wide-eyed innocence that made her look about three years old and as un-Malfoyish as it was possible to be. She bit her lip as the hat was placed on her head, as it called out Slytherin, the girl hopped off the stool and went to sit by her relation, who gave her something close to a smile.
"Malfoy has a sister?" Ron asked incredulously.
"Why wouldn't he have?" Hermione asked calmly.
"I always pegged him as the only child sort. And remember Sirius' family tree? She wasn't on there…"
Hermione shrugged and cut herself a piece of freshly appeared pie, "maybe it's his cousin then." They all looked to the little girl sitting next to their arch-nemesis. She looked as if she should be in Hufflepuff with those curls, but there she was, making conversation with a very smiley Pansy. Weird.
Dumbledore rose as the desserts vanished and the whole school went into silence. "Now, it has become tradition to introduce the new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher at this time. We were all much grieved at Professor Gandhi's courageous sacrifice to help vanquish Voldemort last year. We owe much to him." His eyes lingered on Harry for a second, Harry's eyes stung. Professor Gandhi had died saving him from the death eaters at the end of last term. After helping him find Voldemort and defeat him, the grief-stricken group caught the two; Harry had only just escaped. "But dwelling on the past is useless. Let me introduce you to Professor DuBois."
A young woman stood up, she wore grey robes and her blonde hair was slicked back into a bun. She wore black glasses and looked like she should be working as a muggle secretary. She nodded once to the polite applause and sat down again, not saying a word.
The next day, Hermione, Harry and Ron sat around the breakfast table and discussed the new teacher and the other Malfoy. "I bet it's his secret sister that his dad has been hiding from the world because he's ashamed of her."
"Ron, it's his cousin." Hermione rolled her eyes at him.
"How do you know?" Ron glared at her.
"Never mind." Ron grinned and took her hands, she gave him a small smile in return and turned back to her breakfast.
"What do you think of the new DADA teacher?" Harry interjected.
"I dunno, she looks bossy, I feel that we aren't going to have any time off in class this year."
"It will do you good to do some work for once; you may even improve your grades." Hermione glared back at him.
"Improve my grade! In DADA? I don't need to, remember Professor Gandhi said…" Ron trailed off and glanced at Harry. "Sorry."
Harry shook his head. "Don't worry about it, we can't go about feeling uncomfortable about talking about him, he'd hate that."
"Yeah." In the short silence that followed, the great doors opened and Helena Malfoy walked in. She looked about the tables, looking for someone, when her eyes fell on Hermione. She waved and gave her a small smile, before running along the hall and seating herself next to Blaise Zambini, who high-fived her and passed her the muffins.
"You KNOW her?" Ron turned to her, astonished.
"A little," Hermione said, waving her hand dismissively.
"How?" Harry asked.
"I met her, quite strange really." She refused to say anything else about it, and finally, the boys gave up.
The timetables came around, and the first lesson was DADA, with Ravenclaw. Every one was discussing the new teacher, knowing full well what happened last time a woman took the class. They all filed into the classroom and took their seats. Hermione, Harry and Ron sat at the back of the classroom and discussed what they thought this teacher had to hide.
"I think you two are being a little unfair to Professor DuBois. She may be perfectly normal."
"Come on, Hermione! Quirrel was possessed by You-Know-Who, Lockhart was a fake, Lupin was a werewolf, Moody wasn't Moody at all, Umbridge was a power freak and Gandhi's real last name was Riddle! I'm beginning to see a pattern…" Ron said sarcastically.
"True, all our DADA teachers haven't been what you would call normal…" a snort from Harry seconded this. "But that doesn't mean Professor DuBois isn't!"
Ron couldn't answer because chat was cut short as the teacher strode into the room. "Right," she said not even looking up at the class but down at her notes. "We will start with the register. Please raise your hand as I call your name, so that I can remember it."
She began to call out everyone's surnames and in turn everyone raised their hands. Each time she raised her head from the list to inspect the face of the student, matching the name and face.
It all went smoothly until she called out, "Malfoy." There was a confused silence. Harry raised his hand. When the teacher raised her head to see the student that matched the name, she frowned. "You can't pull that one, I think everyone in this room, and indeed the wizarding world, knows that your last name is Potter."
"No, professor, it's just that Malfoy isn't in this group." The familiar feeling of heat rose in his cheeks, but he ignored it.
"Oh no?" She glanced down at the paper. "This is Gryffindor and Ravenclaw?"
"Yes, but Malfoy is in Slytherin." He looked round the room for confirmation. Everyone nodded, Ron smiled at him, and Hermione stared at the floor with a very thoughtful expression.
"Well, it says here that Malfoy is in this class." Her mouth twitched into an angry frown. "Which one of you is Malfoy?"
"Ma'am, really, Draco Malfoy isn't in this group."
"I know Draco Malfoy isn't, I wish to know which one of you is Hermione Malfoy."
A shocked silence hit the room and everyone turned to the bushy haired teenager, who had paled and was slowly raising her hand.
