Hermione's stomach was turning with butterflies. She was excited to return to Hogwarts. Going back to finish her education was the perfect way to find a sense of normal. She could study, take tests, see friends. If she tried hard enough, maybe she could pretend the last seven years of her life hadn't been a living hell. If she tried really really hard.

The first thing that was making Hermione nervous was the fact that Harry and Ron would not be returning to Hogwarts with her. They had mulled over their options for a long time. The summer had been a series of back and forth owls with McGonagall and the Ministry to find out all their options. Finally the Ministry had won out, insisting that they needed Harry's help to make sure that the wizarding world moved on toward the right future. Harry couldn't resist his calling as Hero, and Ron didn't want to come back to school without his best friend.

Some days Hermione didn't blame either of them. It seemed that going back to school wasn't going to be the melt into the background moment that she was looking forward to. As she stood on the train platform she felt like a specimen under a microscope. As she glanced up from the book she was reading she could see no less than a dozen people looking at her. They didn't even have the grace to turn away when she glanced around.

"It's pretty hard to hide under all those curls, Granger." A familiar voice made her nearly jump out of her skin.

"Malfoy!" She gasped. She hadn't heard him sneak up on her. He stood behind the bench she had claimed as her waiting spot. She had a feeling he had been there for a while, though he had made no indication.

"Maybe they're staring because you're looming! Maybe they're making sure..." she stopped her accusation when he looked at her. There was none of his snarky bravado, none of his smirking arrogance. His piercing grey eyes dared her to finish.

"Making sure I don't attack you?" He finished when she stayed silent for too long. She made a face rather than dignifying him with a response. His mouth quirked slightly, as though he wanted to smile at her silent admission.

"Well, as you know, I am on a very strict parole. I doubt I could raise my wand around you without the ministry hauling me straight to a cell in Azkaban. Though, I wouldn't attack the woman who allowed my parole to occur, would I?" He had turned away from her, unable to make eye contact.

"I just told that truth, Malfoy. You didn't turn Harry in when we ended up at...at your house." Her voice tripped as she thought back to her time at the Manor. Malfoy lowered his head and coughed, equally unhappy to think of what had occurred there.

"Besides...whatever faults you may have, you were a child. Twisted by the ideals of your family, what other choice did you really have? Especially with that murderer living in your home?" Hermione kept her gaze level with his as he turned his face up. His expression was stony. She wished she could read anything in those deep grey eyes - sorrow, repentance, change. Instead, she found herself feeling that microscopic investigation again. He was studying her, though for what she couldn't say.

"Thanks, Granger. For what it's worth, I don't want to waste this second chance."

Hermione was stunned. Whatever she had been expecting, gratitude was not it. She searched for something to say, but she was rendered speechless as he took his leave. The train was pulling into the station, and he wheeled his trunk toward the very end. He walked on alone. None of his friends were returning to finish out their final year. A few of the other Slytherins from his year wouldn't care to associate with him, she realized.

"Granger, let's go! You should get yourself situated. We have a meeting in the Prefect's car in about fifteen minutes, alright?"

She pulled herself back from thoughts of Malfoy and started to gather her books back into her bag. It was already back to work for her, and she welcomed the distraction.

"Thanks Granger?" Draco muttered to himself as he entered the very last car of the train. He hefted his trunk up onto the overhead shelves. The physical activity helped him keep his mind off the incredibly stupid thing he was doing. He couldn't believe he had approached Granger. Coming back to this school was a bad idea, but it was mandated by his parole. Speaking to Granger wasn't just a bad idea, it was absolutely insane. He had been nothing but a relentless bully to her. He was surprised she hadn't immediately hexed him the second he spoke. Instead, she had been kind. As kind as he deserved, anyway.

Draco flopped down in the seat of his compartment and pulled out the paper he had stuffed into the pocket of his robes. There across the front page was splashed his old nemesis, the weasel, and Granger. They had spent the summer going to Ministry events, speaking about the impact of the war on their generation, and helping plan for the rebuilding of the wizarding community. At least, the paper reported that the three of them had worked hard to do those things, but Draco suspected most of the ideas came from Granger. They all smelled of her undying idealism and sense of equality.

"Malfoy, you're going to be late for the meeting," Padma Patil was darkening the doorway of his compartment, and the glare she wore couldn't have been more severe if she'd tried.

"Late?" He sneered.

"Prefect compartment. McGonagall hasn't revoked your duties. You're supposed to report for assignments. Do it or don't, I honestly don't care, I was just told to come tell you." She walked off without waiting to find out if he would follow.

Draco sighed as he put the paper down. He considered just skipping out, but he was sure it would be frowned upon. What better way to keep him in line? What better way to show him exactly how far he'd fallen from grace? McGonagall was a smart lady, he'd give her that.

He put on his best disinterested face and left for the Prefects' compartment.