A/N: Hey guys! I am so overwhelmed and flattered by the instant response from you all! I woke up this morning, checked my email, and said to my cat, "This is so exciting!". Needless to say, she just yawned and went back to sleep. But I was overjoyed! Thank you all so much, and keep them coming! :)
Ok, so I got a review saying that Hermione would be 20 if this was actually happening like it would in the books. This is true, but I'm taking some creative privilege here and making her almost 19. Yeah yeah, I know. It isn't "true to the book". But ya know what, this is my fanfic, and its the way I say it is. So BAM! ;) Ok, moving on with the next chapter!
"And in conclusion, I'd just like to say thank you. Thank you to all of you who were in the war. Thank you to all those who gave their lives in the fight for our survival. And thank you to all of you who are here, after everything that you've lost, to continue your quest for knowledge. You are appreciated and you are truly the foundation of this school... Now, without further ado, let the feast begin!" Headmistress McGonagall finished with a wave of her weathered hand, and mounds of food magically appeared on the four house tables.
Hermione watched in an amused smile as all of the new first years gaped in wonder at the full plates that had been empty but a minute ago. Her smile turned sad as she realized just how little first years there were this year. The four house tables were actually quite empty, many of previous seats' occupants being dead from the war or choosing not to return to Hogwarts at all, finding the stone walls of the great castle too much of a painful memory. In fact, that had been the reason why Harry and Ro-... Well, why Harry hadn't returned to Hogwarts for his final year. She refused to think his name, promising herself that she would have time to cry and reminisce in the privacy of her chambers that evening. Helping herself to some chicken salad, Hermione turned to her left and struck up a conversation with Ginny.
"So Gin, how are you handling not having Harry here?" She looked sympathetically at her red haired friend, chewing her food slowly and patiently waiting for Ginny to do the same.
"I'm actually ok, Mione," Ginny replied with a soft smile. "We promised we would write every day, and I'll see him at Christmas. It's just a little weird, you know. I'm used to seeing him every day. Seeing him, having him hold me, touch me..."
"OK Ginny! I think that's enough now. Come on, he's like my brother." Hermione laughed, punching the young Weasely playfully on the arm.
"Oh, sorry Mione." Ginny blushed, her face becoming nearly the color of her hair. "I just think about him and lose track of where I am." Hermione rolled her eyes, but was happy for her two close friends. They deserved the special happiness only love could bring, especially after their work and sacrifice. Lost in her train of thought, Hermione ate the rest of her meal in a trance, only coming out when McGonagall spoke again.
"Prefects, please lead the first years to the dormitories." There was a clutter of feet and many swooshes of robes. "May I please see Ms. Hermione Granger and Mr. Draco Malfoy up here? Thank you. The rest of you have a good night's rest, and good luck in your classes tomorrow." Slightly bewildered, Hermione made her way up to the teachers' table, and was soon joined by Malfoy. She greeted him with a friendly and brief nod of her head, which he returned. At the end of the war, all house hostility had pretty much burned itself out, and while Hermione and Malfoy were by no means friends, they weren't enemies anymore and could greet each other as acquaintances.
"Ah yes, Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall greeted them with a smile. "With everything that was going on with the reconstruction of the school, there was insufficient time to send you your owls. I apologize for that. But at any rate, you two are the school's Head Boy and Girl. I realize your past together was..." She seemed to pause to be delicate before continuing. "...difficult, but I trust that you two can work together in a civil and professional manner. You will be sharing living quarters, and Ms. Gilda will show you to them." Hermione turned around to find a small house elf at her feet, smiling pleasantly up at her. "Goodnight you two," McGonagall finished, and Gilda began walking out of the Great Hall, with Hermione and Draco right behind her. "Oh," McGonagall called out to them just as they were leaving through the double oak doors. "And congratulations. I know you both will make this school a better environment. Goodnight." Draco looked to Hermione, giving her a nervous smile. Yeah, Hermione thought. My sentiments exactly. No pressure or anything; thanks Minerva.
The two young wizards followed the wrinkled old house elf up many flights of moving staircases, only to be lead to a large portrait of Albus Dumbledore somewhere on the sixth floor. Gilda turned to them. "Ms. Hermione and Mr. Draco is to be choosing a password now. Call Gilda if you be needing anything." And with a small pop she was gone.
"Well that wasn't very informative," Draco sighed after about a minute of being left in the silence of Gilda's departure. Hermione ignored his statement.
"What password would you like? Please," she quickly added at the look on his face, "nothing like Slytherin Prince, or Draco Malfoy Rules."
"Oh please, Granger. If anything it would be Draco Malfoy Supreme," he joked, folding his arms across his chest and laughing at his own jest.
Hermione emitted herself a small chuckle. "How about... Potions Lovers? We both have an affinity for the subject, and no one would guess that a Gryffindor girl would choose anything related to Potions as a password. It's perfect." Draco nodded in agreement, and they said the password in unison to Dumbledore's portrait. The ex-headmaster smiled down at them, that familiar twinkle present still in his painted eyes, and opened up to the dormitory entrance behind him. The two student walked through the entrance and softly gasped.
They walked into a brightly lit living room. Black leather furniture adorned the spacious room, and a pleasant fire crackled merrily in the marble fireplace. A quaint kitchen could be seen off to the left, and two staircases led off to the Head boy and girl's respective rooms. Hermione bid Draco goodnight, anxious to investigate her room and get in a hot bath. Upon climbing the winding staircase, she opened up the fogged glass double doors and immediately smiled. Her large room had been decorated in the traditional Gryffindor colors. There was a queen sized canopy bed against the north wall, with almost too many soft golden pillows and a deep red duvet. Her trunk sat at the base of it, with Crookshanks perched on top. Moving further into her room, Hermione happily took note of two bedside tables, a vast wooden desk with three quills neatly lined up next to two jars of black, fast-dry ink, and two doors, one on either side of the room. Choosing the door to the left first, she found what any girl would be more then glad to have in their room; a walk-in closet. Black stained wooden shelves lined three walls, and the last one had a rack to hang up her robes. The floor was covered with a red shag rug, and a small golden leather loveseat sat cozily in one corner. Closing the closet door, Hermione made her way over to the door on the other side of the room. Upon opening it she found her private bathroom. A jacuzzi tub took up most of the room, but left plenty of room for the white marble sink and counter tops, towel rack filled with soft, fluffy gold and red towels, and a wall sized lighted mirror. Sighing with relief, the young Gryffindor immediately filled the tub with hot water, stripped off her clothes, and climbed in. After the many hours on the Hogwarts Express, the hot water relaxed her muscles and she finally let herself think about the stresses that plagued her mind.
Ronald Weasely. Someone she had once been proud to call her best friend. Now, he wouldn't even acknowledge her presence. The kiss during the battle at Hogwarts had brought them together, and for a while Hermione thought that this was what pure happiness felt like. The Weaselys had welcomed her with love and open arms, and had invited her over for weekly dinners. Their relationship was relaxed and easy. But whenever Ron had wanted to take things a bit further, Hermione just couldn't bring herself to oblige. When his hand traveled up her blouse, she had gently moved it back to her waist. When he attempted to unbutton her jeans, she had made some excuse about her mother expecting her home. She had never been able to move any farther then intense kissing and some feeling up. She couldn't pinpoint why until the day he proposed. It had been beautiful and romantic, anything that she could of dreamed of. The logical part of her mind had told her to say yes; why shouldn't she say yes? Ron could provide her with a stable life, and they got along famously. But when she imagined having a life with him, she couldn't. She could not picture them married, and could not picture the faces of their children. It was at that moment that she knew that Ron could never be more to her then a best friend. After she had fled from the Burrow that night, she had spoken with him and told him exactly that. Needless to say, he had not taken it well. They had not spoken since, despite Hermione's many letters.
Sighing, she realized that during her reminiscence the water of her bath had gone cold. Ten minutes later she had dried off and climbed into her new bed with her favorite sweatpants and old ratty t-shirt on. Looking forward to her first day of classes the next morning, Hermione fell into a deep and fortunately dreamless sleep.
The next morning Hermione made her way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, meeting up with Ginny half way and explaining how she had been chosen to be Head Girl. During breakfast, the Gryffindor table exchanged class schedules. Hermione found out that she had Transfiguration and Muggle Studies with Padma and Luna, Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology with Dean and Pavarti, and Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions with Neville and Ginny. Her course load this year was fairly light, seeing as how it was her last term at Hogwarts. She would never forget the stress of her third year when she had taken on too many courses, and was not anxious to repeat her mistake.
Finishing her toast, Hermione made her way to her first class of the day with Ginny and Neville; Potions. She and Ginny were talking aimlessly about a pair of shoes they had seen in Witch Weekly, with Neville rolling his eyes as he trailed behind, not eager to participate in shoe-talk. Upon reaching the dungeon classroom, they took their seats, Ginny and Hermione sitting together, and Neville sitting with some Slytherin girl. The minutes passed, and soon class' start time had come and gone. Five minutes past. Ten minutes past. Fifteen minutes past. Just as Hermione was about to get up and leave, the class door banged open, and a swoosh of billowing black robes entered the room.
"Hello, class," the professor quietly said. "Welcome to another year of Potions." Hermione's eyes went wide. It was Severus Snape.
Phew, so here we go! Let me know what you all think.
So, heres a question for you. Do you all prefer longer chapters, with a bit of a wait? OR shorter, more frequent chapters. Let me know, as I aim to please ;)
So in light of the positive reaction I'm getting from this story, I am going to have a little contest! Whoever can correctly guess my age in a pm or comment wins a prize! What is the prize, you say? Well you can create a little character and I will feature it in a chapter! The first correct guess wins, so get thinking!
As always my lovely readers, please do leave me some reviews. Snape likes reviews, and he gets cranky without them.