A/N: This is actually really fun to re-write. =) Thanks for waiting!
"It is difficult to say who do you the most mischief: enemies with the worst intentions or friends with the best." - E.R. Bulwer-Lytton
Chapter 4 – All Aboard the Hogwarts Express
When Hermione stepped back into Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, she noticed Harry and Ron lifting a heavy crate containing Skiving Snackboxes just near the register, Fred smirking as he guided them. Harry's eyes swept over her and he immediately let go of his end of the crate. Ron let out an angry "Oi!" as the box began to fall and he attempted to catch it.
There was a brief moment when Hermione laughed, watching Ron struggle, but the look on Harry's face wiped the smile off her face. He ignored Ron's protests and made his way over to Hermione. When he reached her she noticed he wasn't angry, which was good, but he was definitely suspicious. He grabbed her arm lightly and pulled her off to the side, out of earshot from Ron and Fred.
"The Weasley's got back a few minutes ago, said you never asked them for another book," said Harry, his eyes full of concern and doubt.
"No, I never found them," said Hermione, in what she hoped was a disappointing tone, "I searched everywhere...I must have missed them. It's okay though; I can order the book by owl once we get to Hogwarts."
Her feeble attempt didn't convince Harry entirely—she could tell by his expression—but she was saved further speculation by Mrs. Weasley.
"There you are, Hermione dear! Harry said you tried to catch up to us but we must have missed you." Mrs. Weasley frowned, looking concerned. "We can always go back, dear, if you need to."
"It's alright, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione reassured her. "I'll order the book when I get to Hogwarts. No need to make another trip."
Mrs. Weasley looked ready to argue, but after Hermione reminded her of Harry's birthday, that seemed to put the issue to the back of her mind.
They bid Fred and George farewell and made their way toward the Leaky Cauldron. The air was muggy and the sun blistered the back of Hermione's neck. She shifted out of her light jacket and nearly bumped into Harry in the process. He didn't seem to notice, his eyes flickering between the pavement and Ginny. He started to inch in her direction, very slowly, but quickly changed tactics as Ron obliviously pushed his way between the two of them.
Ron is such an idiot, Hermione thought, rolling her eyes.
When they finally arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, the smell of whiskey and wood filled the room, the tables scarcely empty of guests. Tom the barman looked up as Hermione and the others bristled inside. He gave a toothy grin before going back to polishing a glass. A long, rectangular table was set in the middle of the room, plates and cups already in place. Several wooden stools were occupied by Lupin, Tonks, Bill, and Fleur.
"Wotcher Harry," said Tonks, her hair a custom bubble pink. She nearly knocked over her glass when she shook Mr. Weasley's hand. "Happy birthday."
"Thanks," said Harry, looking uncomfortable with the attention. He took a seat and before he could do anything about it, Mrs. Weasley brought over a pile of presents.
He didn't seem too eager about Hermione's gift, which happened to be another homework planner; he claimed to have lost his last one, though Hermione had a feeling it found its way to the Gryffindor fireplace. Fleur had given him a picture of herself and her sister, Gabrielle; Hermione and Ginny both felt this present was both inappropriate and unnecessary.
Tom brought a wonderful feast full of pot roast, baked potatoes with whipped butter, bitter greens, and butterbeer. The only noise in the otherwise empty pub was the sound of chinking silver and chewing. The food was delicious, and after a long day of walking, Hermione thought it might even rival Hogwarts. Then again, that was probably just her empty stomach talking.
"So," said Harry, turning to Lupin and breaking the silence, "anything new with you know" —he lowered his voice— "the Order?"
"Unfortunately, an inside source has it that Mr. Ollivander has gone missing," said Lupin, looking very disturbed and reluctant to share such information.
"More potatoes?" Mrs. Weasley asked, holding the large plate in the air, as though words alone weren't enough for the suggestion.
"The wand maker?" Ron piped up, swallowing down his hot potatoes too quickly. He grimaced and went for his butterbeer.
"Yes, no one knows where or why," said Lupin. "His wife reported him missing last Thursday. Says he never came home. There was no disruption or sign of a struggle at the shop either, so it's quite the mystery."
"Do you think he went on holiday?" Ron asked.
Lupin thought it over. "It's…possible, of course. But why he wouldn't inform Lucille is beyond me and makes little sense."
"What will people do without wands?" Harry asked. "New first years, especially."
"Well Harry, Mr. Ollivander's not the only wandmaker in the world," said Mr. Weasley.
Mrs. Weasley cleared here throat loudly before she spoke, "Bill, how about more roast?"
"I heard a bloke at the bank saying Scrimgeour and Dumbledore had a row," said Bill, ignoring his mother's offer.
"That appears to be the case, according to the Prophet," said Lupin, "but I haven't had a chance to speak with Dumbledore yet."
"Think Scrimgeour's any good?" Harry asked. "I mean, better than Fudge?"
"Reckon anyone would be better than Fudge," said Ron.
"I think Scrimgeour's more aware of the situation than Fudge was," said Tonks thoughtfully. "Being Head of the Auror Office, he was usually on top of things."
"I reckon he—"
"Could we please talk about something else?" Mrs. Weasley cut in, clearly frustrated. "Something a bit more pleasant on Harry's birthday celebration."
Lupin smiled weakly and changed the subject to Quidditch, asking Harry and Ron about the upcoming season. Hermione had little interest in Quidditch, and allowed herself to drift out of the conversation. Her mind was whirling, trying to figure out exactly what was going on. She found it very fishy that Mr. Ollivander would go on holiday at a time like this, right before the new school year. It didn't make much sense. Why would he do that?
Seeing no logical explanation, and no clues to go on, Hermione decided to push the issue to the back of her mind, knowing she'd reopen the case whenever new information came forth.
A few days later, Hermione, Harry, and the Weasley's were packed to go to Kings Cross Station in London. Although Hermione and the others were apparently ready for the trip, they were still pushed for time like usual. It didn't seem to matter how prepared they were—they were always running behind time. Hermione was relieved to find they would not be apparating, but taking a Ministry car.
"A stroke of luck," Mr. Weasley had said. Hermione and the others new it wasn't true, though. It was a precaution for Harry, and pretending otherwise was silly.
"We must hurry!" barked Mrs. Weasley, motioning everyone toward the car. "In you get, Ron."
"How're you expecting us to fit?" Ron asked, hesitating with a hand on the window.
"Honestly, sometimes I wonder if you're really a wizard," said Ginny, rolling her eyes.
"It's been enchanted, obviously," Hermione supplied, fighting a laugh at the look on Ron's face.
"Okay! Shut it…" he mumbled, sliding into the car while carefully maneuvering the noisy cage of Pigwidgen. The cage clipped the roof and Pig let out a sort of squeal of a chirp.
Mrs. Weasley held out a hand. "Girls, you next."
Hermione slid in next to Ron, and Ginny and Harry followed next. It was definitely cramped, even for a magically expanded car. All eight pairs of knees were knocked in to one another. Hermione tried not to blush, being flushed up against Ron's side. He seemed to be avoiding her gaze, or else finding something very appealing out the window.
When the car took off, she tried to scoot away from him, but it only pressed Ginny closer to Harry. Ginny was taller than Hermione, and her long legs and arms were pressing right into Harry's body. He looked very tense. He might have been attempting a nonverbal spell by the amount of concentration on his face.
Feathery clouds streaked with sunlight fell over the country side, painting a scenic picture. The lolling of the hills was rhythmic and peaceful. Somewhere along the way Ron had fallen asleep, face pressed against the window. Hermione sat quietly, listening to Harry and Ginny talk casually, both of them smiling and laughing.
Kings Cross Station was, as always, overly crowded with muggles and magical folk alike. Attempting to maneuver her way through the crowd, Hermione accidently knocked into a muggle family, causing their trunks to fall like stacked dominos. She gave an embarrassed apology and practically sprinted away, pulling a trolley behind her that carried Crookshanks and her own trunk. Mrs. Weasley practically shoved everyone through the barrier of Platform 9 ¾, Harry being escorted by Mr. Weasley and a burly Auror that had met them at the station. He didn't look at all thrilled by it.
Hermione followed next, pushing her trolley toward the barrier, a solid brick wall. The second before she hit the wall always made her nervous, but it was no matter, for she went straight through. On the other side was the familiar scarlet Hogwarts Express, hissing steam over the crowd.
Hermione beamed at the familiar faces. Parvati and Padma Patil were halfway out of their parents grasps, trying to reassure their safety. Neville Longbottom was attempting to prowl his grandmother's fingers from his clothes. Luna Lovegood ran through the crowd, like she was chasing something. It took Hermione a few seconds to realize she was chasing something invisible.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley said their quick goodbyes, each of them promising to behave and write frequently. Mrs. Weasley gave Harry an extra hug, making him blush, and his face was still a little red when he turned to Ginny.
"Fancy finding a compartment?"
"Actually, I'm meeting Dean." Her face fell. "Sorry, Harry. I'll save you a seat in the Great Hall."
Harry only looked slightly put out. "Right, okay."
Hermione looked at him sympathetically. "It's really stupid we have to sit in the prefect carriage. Don't you agree, Ron?"
When Ron said nothing, she turned to look at him. He had that wispy, dreamlike stare thing going on again, like he always did whenever he was staring at Fleur, only now he was looking at a group of giggling girls.
"Ron!" She snapped, a bit too harshly.
"Wha? Oh. Yeah…right." He avoided Hermione's stern gaze.
"We need to meet the new Head Girl and Boy," she said, very business-like.
Ron hesitated. "I need to talk to Harry first. I'll meet you in there, alright?"
"Don't be late," she warned, a threatening note to her voice.
"Calm down Hermione," said Ron, grinning. "We're not even at school yet and your wands already in a knot."
Hermione ignored him and made her way onto the train, pushing past students. The sounds of excitement and some of Fred and George's inventions lit up the corridors. She found the Prefect carriage rather quickly. On the outside of the door, where a number would normally be, a golden "P" shone brightly, the words "sixth years" written nearly below. As she backed inside, attempting to squeeze her trunk and cage through the door, she lost balance and fell backward, barely having time to quickly turn and catch herself with her hands.
She let out a little cry of alarm, her wrists throbbing. When she opened her eyes, she was staring at a pair of black, shiny shoes.
"Finally understanding where you belong, Granger?" A voice leered from above.
Hermione shot her head up so quickly her neck nearly broke. Her glare was even nastier because of the pain in both her wrists and now her neck.
"Shut up, Malfoy," she spat back at him.
His only response was a shrug. Without bothering to do what a normal, rational, polite human being would do—like asking her if she was okay, or if she needed help—he simply sat down on one of the seats.
Hermione stared at him a moment before she got to her feet, collected her things, and brushed her clothes, attempting to gather as much dignity as possible. She felt a little restless to be stuck alone with him after her eavesdropping in Diagon Alley. She rolled back on her heels, debating whether or not she should leave and come back when other Prefects arrived. Her hesitation only lasted a second.
Once she put her things in the rack above the seats—no thanks to Malfoy or her lack of height—she sat down opposite of him, a bit awkwardly, and pulled out the Dailey Prophet. Crookshanks, free of his cage, leapt onto her lap and started to purr softly.
Hermione was scanning the front page when she noticed Malfoy staring at her. She pretended not to notice until she saw him tilt his head to the side curiously, examining her like a lab rat. She realized she had read the same line five times, her peripheral vision focusing all her attention. She sighed and kept her eyes on the prophet as she spoke,
"Is there a problem, Malfoy?"
"I was just wondering how you do it," he replied innocently, except there was nothing innocent about Draco Malfoy.
Hermione didn't respond; she truthfully could care less with whatever he was talking about. She was a bit pleased his cold tone from the alley was gone, but not enough to voice her opinion. Part of her—a part she refused to acknowledge openly—preferred an annoying Malfoy to an emotionless one.
"Must be really tough," Malfoy added in her silence.
She could tell by his tone he was smirking, those lips turning up in the corners. Still, she said nothing, wanting to preserve this quiet moment reading her prophet. Never mind she hadn't made it past the first paragraph.
"Is it difficult?" Malfoy drawled.
Hermione huffed loudly as she slammed the prophet down and glanced up, scowling. "How do I do what, Malfoy?" she asked, frustrated at giving in to his childish behavior.
"How do you get up every day knowing you're the scum of the wizarding world," Malfoy sneered through his teeth.
"How do you get up every day knowing you're a disappointment to your family?" she replied coldly.
For a moment, Hermione thought he might draw out his wand judging by the look in his eyes, so she slid her hand into her front pocket. Mentally, she scolded herself. Starting a fight before school starts, nice job Hermione! She braced herself, waiting to deflect whatever curse Malfoy hurled her way. To her surprise, he simply stormed out of the carriage, cursing under his breath.
One point for Hermione, she thought with a triumphant smile, relaxing her hand around her wand.
By the time she had read the first two pages of the Daily Prophet, Ron arrived with some of the other Prefects: Hannah Abbott from Hufflepuff, worthy of passing as a Weasley by her flaming red hair and freckles. Hufflepuffs other Prefect, Ernie Macmillan. His boyish face lit up the compartment, blue eyes shining with usual pride. Malfoy came back, this time with his pug faced girlfriend Pansy Parkinson, who might be attractive if she didn't look so angry and pissed off. A few minutes later, Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein shuffled in from Ravenclaw and were forced to separate on both sides of the crowded compartment. Padma was an identical twin to Hermione's fellow Gryffindor student, Parvati. Both girls were Indian, with long black hair and deep set eyes. Anthony was very round and blonde; he seemed to bounce with enthusiasm with every breath.
While they were waiting for the Head Boy and Girl to arrive, Ron turned to Hermione.
"Harry got invited to go into Professor Slughorn's compartment," he said, a bit of bitterness in his voice.
"Whose Professor Slughorn?" asked Padma, obviously eavesdropping. Not that Hermione could talk.
"He's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher, used to be Head of Slytherin," replied Ron, casting a dark glance at Malfoy and Pansy, both of which looked rather smug.
"It's a bit odd though," said Hermione. "Wonder what he wants with Harry?"
"Dunno, do I?" said Ron, that same bitterness resurfacing. "Something him and Neville share in common, I s'pose. He was invited, too."
"Longbottom? What's he want with him? Are you joking?"
Everyone turned their attention to Malfoy, who looked like he had just eaten a pile of dung.
"Pretty sure that's what I said," replied Ron coolly.
"Shut up, Weaselbee. We all can see how jealous you are over it," said Malfoy, sneering. "Bet you wish you could sneak to their compartment. Maybe they get special food that you can send home to your family so they don't have to starve to pay for your new books."
Ron's ears blazed a bright shade of scarlet, his fists clenching on his knees. Hermione grabbed his arm as he went for his wand.
"Leave it, Ron, it's just Malfoy," she whispered urgently. She glared at Malfoy with as much hatred as she had in Diagon Alley. She could not understand how anyone could insult someone like that. Luckily, the compartment door opened to reveal the new Head Boy and Girl.
"OH!" Hermione exclaimed in excitement, the issue with Ron forgotten. She reached into her purse and pulled out new parchment and a Self-Inking Quill to take notes. The gesture made her inwardly smile; how she loved new parchment and quills.
Katie Bell from Gryffindor and Eddie Carmichael from Ravenclaw entered the compartment. Katie was a dark haired Quidditch player with a kind, soft face and large brown eyes. Eddie also played Quidditch, but for Ravenclaw. He had lanky arms and was covered in freckles. They both had nervous, yet very proud looks on their faces.
"Hey," said Katie, smiling. "We wanted to speak with you lot first before the new Fifth Year Prefects. We're going to have meetings once every two or three weeks, just to keep on schedule. It'll be hard with Quidditch schedules and tryouts coming up but we'll make do."
She took a deep breath, as though pleased her shining moment had passed without fail, and gestured for Eddie to speak.
"Yeah, we'll work in pairs this year, patrolling the corridors and making sure no one is out past curfew," he said. "As you know, security is tightened a ton and we need to make sure everyone follows the rules."
Hermione nodded as she finished copying their words, looking up to notice most of the Prefects looked bored already. She saw Malfoy picking at his fingers as if he had nothing better to do. Appalled, she opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted when Ron's stomach let out a loud growl. Almost everyone laughed.
"I guess that's all we've got for our big welcome speech," said Katie, once the laughter died down. "There's a surprise this year and we decided for you lot to hear about it at the feast—we don't want to spoil it for you. Well, we'll see you very soon!"
Before anyone could comment on the matter, Katie and Eddie vanished. Everyone looked around in mild curiosity, as though they were all thing the same thing: What surprise is Katie talking about?
A/N: Lol I forgot how horrible Draco is in the beginning of this story..haha. Oh he's fun to write though. :P Thanks for reading, guys! I'd really like your input. Now to respond to a few reviews:
jazzy4ver: "Do you still do the character question thing over here?" - Not yet for this story. I'll probably wait until about chapter 10-15. ;) You can only ask a question that pertains to the present chapter, and nothing has really happened yet. :P
xheni: "I am so relieved the story isn't lost!" - Me too! Thankfully it's saved on my computer, haha. This re-writing is fun, though. I've caught a lot of errors and tightened up the writing. I think. I tried. lol
NOTE: If you have never heard of Avatar the Last Airbender, you are missing out. If you are a Draco and Hermione fan, you will LOVE Zuko and Katara. Brooding boy who wants to prove to his father that he's worthy of love? Check. Sexy, hot voice? Check. Stubborn, hot tempered female? Check. Yes, they trump Dramione and that says something. ATLA is possibly the best show ever..I've converted many Harry Potter fans to it myself. Trust me..you'll love it.
Anyway, I'm really excited about my fic The Black Games, which is a take on The Hunger Games in the Avatar world. I highly suggest it to my readers if you like my style, even if you've never read anything Avatar. You don't need to..because this is AU and you'll pick up on it. ;) Seriously, dramione fans need to unite with Zutara fans. :P That's all. lol