DISCLAIMER: Nothing recognizable is mine. Es muy triste…

Monday mornings were the worst. Even Hermione's eagerness to learn was dampened by her drooping eyelids and her body's message of Why did you leave your nice warm bed, you idiot? Judging by the sleepy looks on Ron and Harry's faces, Hermione could only assume that they too agreed with her. She had giggled when Ron first came down to eat – his hair was even worse than Harry's, sticking up in every direction like a fiery halo.

Remembering that Transfiguration was the first class of the day, Hermione reached over and poured herself a large cup of coffee. Usually she avoided the stuff and stuck with tea, but she needed the caffeine kick that only coffee, strong and black, could provide. The smell alone woke her up some – the house elves' coffee was almost stronger than Madame Pomfrey's Pepper-Up potion, and Hermione was quite sure that it could have been used to wake up the Petrified victims six years earlier.

"Can you pour some of that for me, Hermi-i-ione?" Ron asked, around a huge yawn, pushing another mug towards her. She did just that, and then poured a cup for Harry, who was currently staring grumpily at his eggs. Pushing it towards him, she grabbed a muffin with her other hand and proceeded to transfer pieces of pastry from her fingers to her mouth. It never ceased to amaze her how consistently delicious the house-elves' dishes were.

Once her breakfast was done, Hermione levered herself out of her chair and made her way back to the common room. The boys would take a little longer to eat, but the Great Hall was getting a little noisy and Hermione had left her books in her room. Stepping through the portrait, she was surprised to see a familiar blond head bent over a folder, scribbling furiously. She had barely seen Malfoy all weekend – she had asked him a question about an essay for Potions, but he had seemed distracted by something and only barely answered, leaving her to root through the library by herself. Not that she had minded, going through the library. It was just so much easier to ask him –

Oh. Was this what it felt like for Ron and Harry, always having her to help them? She felt a little bad for the times when she hadn't given them the help they wanted, but then remembered that it was very doubtful they would ever enter Madame Pince's sacred domain unless they didn't have a choice. And Hermione just couldn't let someone go through their life without learning the resourcefulness and beauty of the rows of shelving that had answers to almost every question imaginable.

"Morning, Malfoy," she called as she picked up her bag. He jumped and slammed the folder closed.

"Oh, er, morning to you too, Granger. Is it time for class already?"

"No, you have a few minutes to finish whatever you were doing. What were you doing, anyway?" She knew it was none of her business, but she couldn't help but try and be nice to him. The last few months in his Potions class had proved to her that he could be polite and relax enough to talk about more than just school. Though she still didn't really trust or like him, she didn't dislike him either.

"It's nothing," he bit out, brusquely. "None of your business, anyway." There was something tight and breakable in his jaw and his eyes when he said this, and Hermione knew better than to push him. Sometimes she caught loosening up, but this morning was just not going to be one of those days.

"Alright. I'll see you in class then." Trying not to look like she was too much of a hurry to get away from him, she hastily scrambled through the portrait. Hermione was always wary of him when he got testy. It wasn't him, exactly, it was just that he reminded her of his father when he was like that. And Lucius Malfoy was not exactly someone she wanted to spend more time then she already had with.

-O-O-O-O-

McGonagall's first period Transfiguration class trudged out of the classroom. Even Hermione had a ache flirting around her temples, making it hard to concentrate on anything in particular, and she wondered how some of her other classmates felt. The professor had assured them all that they would eventually get the hang of changing inorganic matter into organic, but even Hermione had difficulty grasping the concept.

She had been able to make the cord of her computer mouse turn into a live rat's tail, but the rest of the plastic remained, stubbornly, plastic. And they were supposed to be able to do much more complex things then turning computer mice into rats by the end of the year. And there was still another period to go until lunch. Normally, Hermione was able to control her Ron-like tendency for always wanting food, but this class had been hard work and she wasn't sure if she would be able to focus on Charms.

Still… she had ten minutes until her next class, and the house-elves sometimes left snacks out for the students in case they were hungry.

"Hey, Ron, I'm going to go grab something to eat from the Great Hall. Do you want me to get you anything before Charms?" At the mention of food, the distant, tired look in Ron's eyes disappeared.

"Really, Hermione? That would be great. Here, I'll bring your bag to Charms so you don't have to carry it – oof, that's heavy." Well, he had offered to carry it. "Thanks Hermione!" She chuckled, and sent him on his way. Really, why had she even asked? Of course he would want food – he was Ronald Weasley.

Free from her encumbering schoolbag, Hermione quickly made her way to the Great Hall. Going down the main stairway, she froze. There, in the entrance hall, stood Narcissa Malfoy. She was looking better than she had in Diagon Alley, but Hermione could tell she was still too thin, and that the upright posture was as much from trying to look strong as from habit.

The blond woman looked up expectantly, having heard footsteps, but her indifferent expression did not change when she saw that it was Hermione.

"Ms. Granger," she said, her tone as expressionless as her face. "I hope you are well."

"I… I am, Mrs. Malfoy. And you?" Hermione had no idea how to respond to the woman who had quite possibly saved the wizarding world by lying about Harry's death.

"Well enough, I suppose." Hermione once again began to descend the marble steps. Then something changed in Narcissa's voice, which made Hermione pause once more. "Ms. Granger… I must apologize for what you had to endure during the last year. I can only hope that you understand the circumstances, and that you can forgive me for my part in what happened."

Hermione was stunned. Never had she thought that she would actually encounter the lady of the manor where she had been imprisoned and tortured, nor had she thought that the same woman who had sneered at her for years would unbend enough to actually apologize. She gazed at Narcissa in ungraceful, open-mouthed shock. Finally, she found the only appropriate thing to say.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I believe that we all did things during the War that we regretted. And I know that, for you at least, you were just trying to protect your family. I don't blame you for that. And I can't – not after everything you did to save us." A small smile appeared on the blond woman's face when Hermione was done talking, and her face seemed to soften as tension drained out.

"Thank you, Ms. Granger. I am glad there is a new generation willing to start fresh. After all, your year will be future– "

"Mother?" Surprised by the interruption, the two women whirled around. With a look of shock on his face, Malfoy limped out of the doorway and into the arms his mother flung around him. Hermione couldn't believe that even the heartfelt and emotional reunion between the two blondes looked graceful and poised.

"What are you doing here?" the younger Malfoy asked, still looked a bit bewildered.

"I'm going to speak with the Headmistress," his mother replied crisply, "about next week. You will come home on Wednesday so we can get everything in order. And you need to get new dress robes – your old ones are too baggy, it doesn't look proper."

Malfoy had straightened up during his mother's matter-of-fact speech, though he was frowning slightly. Hermione was astounded by how quickly the two shifted from polite conversation to reunion to business-like planning. She shifted awkwardly, unsure of her place in the conversation.

"Well, it was nice to speak with you, Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione finally decided to leave the two alone. "Perhaps we'll see each other again soon." Narcissa Malfoy turned and nodded to her.

"Yes, Ms. Granger," came the calm and poised response. "If you will excuse us." The two Malfoys walked away together up the main stairs and Hermione sped to pick up Ron's snack and get back to class.

"What took you so long?" Ron asked as she handed him his muffin.

"I… ran into Mrs. Malfoy." He choked and Harry had to clap him on the back.

"What?"

"Yeah, it was really weird. She was coming to speak to Professor McGonagall about something."

"Hmm…" Harry mused. His thoughts were interrupted by Flitwick's entrance into the classroom to begin the lesson. Hermione couldn't help but notice that the younger Malfoy that she had seen earlier was absent from the class. How curious.

A/N: So, I hope you enjoyed! A little short, but it's kindof a filler chapter to get to the real schtuff in the next one. Trying to keep ahead in my writing, but it's hard with school and what not. Margh physics… thanks for reading!

Also, thanks to MADAME LURE for keeping me writing. Don't know what I would do without her.