Chapter 2: Little Do You Know

Draco Malfoy had boarded the Hogwarts Express hoping to come across a familiar face. No one from his year was on board. He had heard that most of their families had been locked up in Azkaban for the dealings as Death Eaters, but he had expected to at least see one of his old housemates. Those he did see eyed him cautiously. The Slytherins muttered "traitor" under their breath as he walked by. The Ravenclaws would see him coming and look busy, so as not to be bothered. The Hufflepuffs were even ignoring him. By the time he reached the Gryffindor section, he was out of options. At this point, he could only hope there was an empty compartment he could hide away in.

Passing through the gold and crimson clad students, he heard more whispering. Some said "Death Eater" others called him "enemy" but the worst was "coward." He could let go of the other names. Coward stuck. He didn't have the Gryffindor bravery. Defying his father was a damn near impossible task. Defying the most powerful wizard the world had ever know was out of the question. It was a death sentence.

His mother had been aware of how critical being in the Dark Lord's graces were. It was why she had enlisted Severus Snape to make the Unbreakable Vow with her. She would do whatever she had to in order to protect her son. Draco had struggled with his task from the moment it had been asked of him. Taking another's life was beyond what he was capable of. He had wanted to hurt others before. He had felt the desire to cause harm to another individual, most often his own father, but he had never gone as far as to entertain the idea of murder. No matter how dark of a facade he put on, Draco had never crossed that line.

The day he saw the dead bird in the Vanishing Cabinet, he had felt the full weight of his task on him. He heard his father telling him what a disappointment he was to the Malfoy bloodline, what a disgrace he was, and how disappointed Lucius was that he was their only child. He saw Potter beating him at both Quidditch and Potions. He saw Granger beating him for the top marks in their year. He saw Weasel becoming the best Keeper Gryffindor had seen in a while. All around him, others were succeeding easily, while he wrestled with his commitment to a task that determined whether or not he lived or died.

Draco recalled how the Dark Lord taunting him over and over again. He had known if he wasn't able to fix the cabinet, his parents would pay the price of his failure. Seeing the bird had rattled him. It felt like an omen of what was to come. Despite his misgivings towards his father, he didn't want to see Lucius dead. He was his father, after all. Narcissa had always been a kind and loving mother. Draco couldn't bear to think of how she would be tormented before death, just to cause him additional pain before his life was ended. Crossing the line became necessary to ensure their survival.

Perhaps his choices had been wrong. Perhaps his failure had been in not seeing any other choice. That made him flawed, not a coward.

He moved toward the back of the train where he noticed what appeared to be an empty compartment. When he got to the door, he saw one student sitting by herself in the corner. Book open, head down - he knew instantly who it was. Weighing his options, he decided he'd take his chances with the bookworm over the unfriendly crowds. He slid the door open and walked in with false bravado.

"Granger."

He took a seat across from her, settling in with the intention of taking a nap. Hopefully it would make the train ride go faster.

"Malfoy?"

She sounded shocked to see him. He was surprised himself. He had heard she had been offered a position within the Ministry along side the rest of the Golden Trio. If such a position had been offered to him, he would have gladly accepted. He was curious as to why she had chosen to return to Hogwarts instead of pursuing a career with her best friends. He had very few memories of them not being together. After the war, he expected them to be even more inseparable, if that were possible.

His curiosity was put on hold, as she attempted to make him leave. Draco found it easy to rile her up. It actually made him feel slightly better. Getting under her skin made him feel in control, if only for a brief moment. After some typical back and forth banter, he was able to convince her to be quiet and he dozed off.

The next thing he heard was her snapping at him to move. Bossy as ever, he thought to himself. Little Miss Know-It-All. He decided she wasn't going to best him. He was here for the entire year. His parents were not around to pull him out and the Ministry was keeping tabs on him. He was going to be at Hogwarts until he had passed his N.E.W.T.S. He might as well have some fun.

Since she wanted out of the car so bad, he decided to push her buttons further. He strategically dropped his bag directly in her path, blocking her from stepping out of the compartment. He watched the anger flare up in her eyes, saw how tense her body got as she tried to restrain herself from assaulting him. After the punch she had delivered in third year, he wasn't eager for another physical confrontation with her. He did have to admit it was fun to challenge her. She was one of the few who could truly rival him.

Crabbe and Goyle had never been too bright. Pansy was a doormat and Blaise...well Blaise was haughtier than Draco. They had all been there as his own personal entourage. Despite their constant presence, the value they had provided was mediocre at best. He couldn't carry an intelligent conversation with any of them except for Blaise. However, Blaise had his own priorities.

He let Granger push past him, following close behind. Her form was still tense. He smirked. He had gotten to her again.

Draco's mood had improved. And then McGonagall's announcement came.

In his mind he could see it. The student body already despised him. The moment it became known that he was made Head Boy, it would appear that he had been given special treatment. One of two assumptions would be made. First, his father had paid off the school to obtain the role for Draco. Or, it would be assumed the Minister mandated this as part of his unite platform. There was no way any of the students would believe Draco had truly earned the position. After all, next to Hermione Granger - brightest witch of her age, best friend to the Savior, and war hero - what qualified Draco Malfoy to serve as Head Boy?

He didn't recall the ride to the castle or navigating to the new Head dorms. It wasn't until Granger put her hand on his arm that he even realized they had arrived. Instinctively, he pulled away from her and snapped. "What Granger?"

Her brow furrowed. "Are you alright?"

"Fine."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before sighing. "Did you hear anything I said? " There was a hint of irritation in her voice.

"No."

"Are you ready to set your password? I'd like to get settled before the Feast."

Draco focused on the portrait in front of them, where Glanmore Peakes was tapping his foot impatiently. "Sanctimonia Vincet Semper."

"Sanctimonia Vincet Semper, accepted," Glanmore stated. "You may enter."

The portrait swung forward, revealing the entrance to their quarters. Draco gestured for Granger to move forward. She hesitated for a moment, unsure. When he didn't move, she quickly walked past him inside. He followed. Once inside, he looked around. There was a common room area with simple lounge furniture and a fireplace. Off to his left was a door marked Head Boy. He noted a similar door to his right marked Head Girl.

Wordlessly, he escaped to his room. It was done up in emerald and silver the way his Slytherin House dorm had been. There was a private bathroom off to the side of the bed and a large window that overlooked the Quidditch pitch. Draco figured McGonagall thought he'd appreciate the view, but he had no intention of going out for the team this year. Even before the train ride, he had thought it would be in his best interest not to mount a broom in a sport where others might knock him off or fling a bludger at him. He would confine himself to this room or the library for the remainder of the year. He wanted to stay off the radar.

There was a calendar hanging up near his desk. He flipped through the pages, before taking a quill out of his bag. He drew a black "X" through the date.

1 down, only 302 to go, he thought glumly.

Hermione sat at her new desk, carefully organizing each drawer and laying out the top to maximize her study space. She pulled out the scroll Professor McGonagall had handed her on the train platform. She read through the details.

Dear Miss Granger,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been granted the Head Girl position for this term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The duties of this role are identified as the following, in addition to leading your fellow Prefects in their duties:
- representing the school at events
- delivering public speeches
- serving as a strong role-model for students
- sharing pupils' ideas with the school's leadership

Please find attached the list of Prefects who are assigned by House.

Gryffindor
- Ginevra Weasley
- Quinton Flaccus

Ravenclaw
- Gwendolyn Flores
- Horatio Levy

Hufflepuff
- Doris Marchbanks
- Albert Griselda

Slytherin
- Astoria Greengrass
- Hengist Diggle

Please note, as you prepare for your N.E.W.T.S. as part of your core curriculum, it is expected that you show progress in one of your weakest areas of studies from our extra-curricular and elective offerings. For your development, we have selected Divination or Flying. We wish you the best of luck with the coming year.

Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress

Hermione sat the scroll aside. She had enjoyed being a Prefect. Becoming the Head Girl was the next logical step in that progression. Prior to the war, it had been her goal. It was another achievement to add to her list, another badge to don with honor when she went for interviews. Though it was no longer necessary, she couldn't shed her perfectionist nature. Besides, without Harry and Ron to distract her or the threat of the Dark Lord looming, she would have more time to focus on her studies. She was coming to accept it. If Professor McGonagall believed she could do some good for the school and the Wizarding community in this role, she would strive for that.

However, she was less accepting of the new requirement to take Divination or Flying again. The thought of facing Professor Trelawney again was not appealing in the slightest. Confronting her fear of flight was equally unappealing. She frowned and moved away from her desk to continue unpacking. Maybe Ginny could teach her, if she wasn't too preoccupied with her duties as Captain along with being a Prefect.

After an hour, she had gotten her room laid out the way she wanted. She brushed through her hair, added a touch of lip gloss, and left for the Welcoming Feast. It would be the perfect opportunity to ask Ginny what she thought about the new addition to her class schedule.

The Great Hall looked the same as it always had. Draco found it both comforting and annoying.

He recalled how he had sat with his parents after the battle, unsure who to talk to or what their purpose was in being present. He had been conflicted at that moment too. On one hand, he was safe. His parents were safe. Potter had vanquished the Dark Lord and somehow the Golden Trio had miraculously survived. On the other hand, he was an outcast. He didn't belong with the happy trio, who were all fawning over each other and their hordes of friends and family. He hadn't left with the other Slytherins or the Death Eaters, some of who were his family. Instead, he felt as though he were in some sort of strange limbo between both worlds.

It was that same feeling he had now. He glanced between the house tables. All the students in attendance were happily chatting away with their friends. There were less then in past years, which he attributed to the lingering danger from the war. He noticed Granger sitting with Weaselette and the other lions. She was talking to a tall, intimidating looking dark-skinned girl who was animatedly waving her hands about as she chatted. Draco turned back to the problem at hand: finding a seat. Slytherin was his house, but it was anything but welcoming. He sat towards the end, near the doors. He didn't want to attract too much attention to himself.

"Good evening." Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the room. "Welcome to Hogwarts. I would first like to introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Jasper Pennifold. Professor Pennifold will be joined by his sister, Aramita Pennifold Elphnick, who will be teaching Transfiguration." There was a round of clapping, before she continued. "As you are all aware, the castle is still under renovation from the war. Certain corridors are off-limits to students during this time. I must ask you all to be cautious when walking to your classes to make sure you follow the signs which have been posted throughout the castle. The Astronomy Tower is closed. You will note in your class schedule the new room assignment. If you need guidance, please seek out your House Prefects or the Head Boy and Head Girl."

Draco glanced up, upon hearing his new title.

"That brings me to my final announcement. The Second War has come to an end. While we are grateful this terrible time has passed, there is still to be done. The Minister has asked us all to remember that we have all been affected by the events that transpired here. He wants us to remain united. Under this belief, I am pleased to announce that Ms. Hermione Granger and Mr. Draco Malfoy are our Head Girl and our Head Boy for this year." Some students began whispering to each other. A few even looked over at him. "Please join me in congratulating them on this achievement."

There was another round of applause. Draco could tell it was more for Granger than for him. He stole another glance over at the bookworm and locked eyes with her. Immediately, Draco turned away, focusing on his empty plate. Had she been staring at him? He busied himself with grabbing something to eat. She had been looking at him the way one looked at a wounded animal. It agitated him. He didn't need her pity. He had been through far worse than a bunch of classmates gossiping about him.

After dinner, he didn't linger. He retreated to the solitude of his dorm.

Hermione felt heat rush to her cheeks as Malfoy caught her gaze. While McGonagall made the announcements, she had watched him. On the train he had been the same overconfident, self-entitled prat she had come to know over the years. The moment the Headmistress had given them their assignments, his demeanor had changed. She found it akin to shock. He had mutely followed her to the dorms, his eyes glazed over. She could hear Ron and Harry mocking him in her mind. They would have been pleased to witness him so out of character.

It reminded her of how he had acted in sixth year. At the time, she knew something was off. She had no idea he had been part of Voldemort's plot. A tiny part of her had been impressed with his ability to restore the Vanishing Cabinet. It was no small task and required a high level of dedication. She wasn't afraid of him being caught up in another sinister scheme. This time there was a difference. He wasn't being consumed by fear. He was being consumed by loneliness. It made her sad for him. The petty side of her said Good riddance, he deserves it, but the larger part of her felt terrible for him.

"Earth to Hermione."

A voice drew her back to the feast going on around her. She looked over at Romilda. "Already thinking about those seven N.E.W.T.S. you have to take?"

"Eight, actually."

"Eight!" Ginny's eyes went wide. "What else are you taking now?"

"I have to take Divination or Flying. It's a new Head Girl requirement."

"Easy," Romilda patted her on the back. "Flying. Gin and I can teach you. No sweat."

Hermione looked at her best friend. Ginny didn't appear as confident. She knew very well how Hermione didn't like to fly. When they had been at the Burrow, Hermione sat off to the side reading while the rest of the Weasley clan played Quidditch or other make-shift games they created to help them with their Quidditch skills. The one time Harry had convinced her to join, she had fallen off the broom less than five minutes in and had spent the rest of the afternoon with Molly, who had worked several healer spells to get ride of her sprained wrist and black eye.

"Thanks, Romilda," Hermione smiled at her, "but I think I will have to swallow my pride and go back to Professor Trelawney's class. Flying and I aren't exactly simpatico."

"You're missing out!"

Romilda began digging into the food before them. Hermione followed suit, helping herself to some of her favorites, feeling happy to be back at Hogwarts. It was the closest thing she had to home these days. She spent the evening talking to Romilda, Ginny, and the rest of the new Gryffindor House Quidditch team. Ginny also introduced her to Quinton, the other Gryffindor Prefect.

It was hours later when she entered their shared quarters. She found her roommate sitting on the couch with his head in his hands.

"Malfoy, are you alright?"

"Yes."

His ton was sharp. She knew better to push him, so she headed to her bedroom. As she opened the door, she stole a glance over her shoulder. He was still sitting in the same position, looking terribly defeated. This was not the insufferable git who called her names and made cruel comments about her background. Though she knew she shouldn't care, she did. Pureblood or not, Draco Malfoy was a student of Hogwarts and a survivor of the war, same as her. He deserved a friend.

"Malfoy?"

"I said I was fine."

"Quit the act. You are not. No one goes through what you went through and is fine."

"Well I am."

"Bollocks."

"What do you know about it?" He hissed, jumping up from the couch and rounding on her.

Hermione took a step forward, holding his gaze. "I know you weren't given a choice. Voldemort-." He flinched when she said the Dark Lord's name out loud. "Voldemort probably threatened your life and the life of your family, maybe even your friends here. I know you aren't a killer." He scuffed at her remark, but she continued. "I know you grew up in a home where Pureblood ideals, money, power, and society status are considered everything and someone like...like me isn't worth your time, but-." She stopped for a moment, biting back her lip. "But you you warned me about the Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup."

He crossed his arms over his chest, defensively, and dropped his gaze. "Your hair would have led them right to you."

"It must be lonely being you."

"I don't want your pity, Granger," he snarled, glaring at her. "You couldn't possibly understand."

"Stop it!" Hermione yelled at him. "Just stop it, Draco."

He froze at the sound of his first name.

"You aren't the only one who lost something in the war." She continued, her voice shaking slightly. "I lost friends. I watched people I loved die in front of me. Your parents are alive. They are protected. Teddy Lupin's parents are dead. Mine are in another country with no memory of their life here or any idea they ever had a daughter. If I found them tomorrow they wouldn't recognize. That was the cost of keeping them safe. That was what I had to do so people like your parents didn't murder them for simply not being magic-born. I gave up my family, my home for the war. What did you give up?"

He was staring at her. She felt her anger diminishing. The outburst had been more telling than she had wanted, but she didn't care. Who was he to think he was the only one hurting? What gave him the right to walk around with a chip on his shoulder? He was lucky. He still had both his parents. He had his home to go back to. She was tired of feeling sorry for him.

"And in case you forgot," she lifted up her shirt to reveal the scar his aunt had left the prior year. "I have this as a constant reminder of what I lost...of what I had to give up."

She was aware of how his eyes fixated on the mark. His expression was unreadable. Hermione was still self-conscious about the scar. She rarely allowed anyone to see it. Realizing he was still staring, she yanked her sleeve back down.

"For the record, it wasn't pity. I was trying to be civil. You should try it sometime."

With that, she marched to her room, slamming the door at him.