Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and BarlowGirl owns Never Alone, but I, however, own the story. So ha!
(A/N: to reviewers: I will try to make the chapters longer. Also, I dedicate this story to my friend Kelly! Also, I've decided to pretend that DRACO IS NOT A DEATH EATER (or a death eater-in training) He switched sides.)
Never Alone
I waited for you today
But you didn't show
No no.
I needed you today
So where did you go?
You told me to call
Said you'd be there
And though I haven't seen you
Are you still there?
I cried out with no reply
And I can't feel you by my side
So I'll hold tight to what I know
You're here and I'm never alone
And though I cannot see you
And I can't explain why
Such a deep reassurance
You've placed in my life.
We cannot separate
'Cause you're part of me.
And though you're invisible
I'll trust the unseen.
I cried out with no reply
And I can't feel you by my side
So I'll hold tight to what I know
Hermione stood at the window of the kitchen at the Weasley's house. She was there for the summer vacation. Her dirty blond hair streamed out behind her in the wind of the coming storm. Her brown eyes were big and beautiful, but there was a sadness to them as well. A hidden sadness. Ever since, in the sixth year, Ron Weasley had dated her, then dumped her, something was broken inside. Something that hadn't been fixed yet. She, Ron, and Harry, though they were still friends, albeit good ones, didn't have what they used to have. Hermione, though she would not admit it to anyone, was still crushing over Ron.
She was surprised to see and owl come flying in through the window, and when she bent down to untie the letter from the bird's leg she was doubly surprised that the letter had her name written on it in curly, script writing.
Hermione cautiously ripped open the envelope. She pulled the letter out of the envelope and opened it.
It was addressed to Hermione Granger and it was from Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Dear Hermione Granger,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been made Head Girl of Hogwarts.
Hermione grinned with pleasure.
The Head Boy will be Draco Malfoy.
Being Head Girl is an enormous responsibility, as you know…
There was more, but Hermione didn't see it. The letter fluttered to the ground from her grip. She felt faint, and sat down hard on the kitchen floor. Then she fainted, darkness swirling around her.
"Hermione? Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley's worried voice brought Hermione from her faint. She opened her eyes to see the whole Weasley family and Harry standing around her, looking anxious. Harry helped her into a chair.
"What's wrong?" asked Fred.
"I was made Head Girl," she told them weakly.
"That's great, Hermione!" said Mrs. Weasley proudly.
"And Malfoy is Head Boy," Hermione added.
They stared at her.
"Why would Dumbledore make Malfoy Head Boy? He's not that-" began Ron.
"Ron." Said Hermione wearily. "Just because Malfoy's a total prat doesn't excuse the fact, that even if you don't want to admit it, Malfoy is smart."
"Well. Life is really going to be hell for you this year, isn't it?" Harry said sympathetically.
Hermione felt sick to her stomach.
Hermione dragged her bags along the corridor inside the Hogwarts Express. She had already said goodbye to Ron and Harry, with promises that she would come visit. But for now, she had to go to the Head Boy's and Head Girl's compartment.
She peeked inside. No Malfoy yet. Thank God.
Hermione dumped all of her stuff on the floor and marveled at the compartment. It was large and spacious, bigger than the regular ones. The two benches sitting opposite each other were plush and red.
Then she pulled out a book and began to read. Hermione's motto. When in doubt, read.
She became immersed in her book quickly enough, and didn't look up from it when the door to the compartment opened and Draco Malfoy stepped inside.
His blond hair fell sloppily into his face as he dragged all of his baggage inside.
"Hello, mudblood," he drawled.
"I've always wondered what you hoped to accomplish by calling me a mudblood," Hermione mused without looking up from her book.
"Well," said Malfoy sarcastically, "I can tell this is going to be a great year."
And for the first time, thought Hermione jadedly, we actually agree on something.
After the feast, and after McGonagall, the new headmistress since Dumbledore died, had made a speech and all, the students had two hours to get settled into their dorms.
Hermione started heading upstairs to the Griffindor dormitories and then caught herself. The Head Boy and Head Girl shared a dorm elsewhere. But where?
And suddenly, McGonagall, with Malfoy at her heels, appeared.
"Hello, Hermione. Hello, Draco." She greeted them. "Please follow me to your dormitory." She swept off down the hall, leaving Hermione and Malfoy to catch up.
The Head Boy and Head Girl's dormitory was lovely. The mahogany wood floors were polished brightly. Their two bedrooms, the bathroom, and their joint common room were luxurious and spacious, decked out with nice furniture.
Hermione looked at Malfoy, whose nose was slightly raised as he looked over the rooms. He did not look impressed. Well, he was probably used to having a big house and nice things, she conceded.
"I get that one," said Malfoy, referring to the bedroom closer to the bathroom.
She shrugged. "Whatever."
She went into the other bedroom, and lay her things down on the floor next to the plum colored four-poster bed. She unpacked all of her clothes, putting them neatly into the empty dresser opposite from the bed. Hermione looked up at the mirror that sat on top of the dresser.
The truth was that Hermione Granger was not a child anymore. She had grown up, not that anyone had noticed. Her hair had lost its bushiness. Her eyes were beautiful pools of brown. Her lips were full and round. She was striking. Not that anyone had noticed. Or so she thought.
Later that day, Ron, and Harry stopped by to see how she was doing. They were laughing and chatting together, sitting on the couch when Malfoy walked in.
"Hello, Malfoy," said Ron lightly.
"Well, if it isn't Weasel King, and Potty Boy," he sneered.
Ron flushed, and Harry ignored him.
"Malfoy," said Hermione, her voice ice. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" And with that she dragged him off into her room.
"Get your hands off me," he growled; she had been towing him by his arm.
"Listen to me: Those are my friends. Do not insult them. I am civil enough to your friends, I expect you to be the same to mine," Hermione told him furiously.
Malfoy raised his eyebrow. "Fine," he answered. "Civil." He walked into his room, slamming the door behind him.
Hermione sighed, and returned to her friends.
"Sorry," she said. "Draco's you know… not very social," she fibbed. Hell, she thought to herself. When did I start calling him Draco?
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