A/N: Hats off to JKRowling, may all the bugles sound for her.
The morning of their departure to Hogwarts dawned, and none too soon for Harry, who wanted to escape the house that Sirius had hated. On Mrs. Weasley's rather persuasive advice they had packed their trunks and all their things the previous night itself, and their journey to the station was rather uneventful and a tad depressing. Harry was ready to bid goodbye to the only place he had known as home for the past 6 years, the only place where he had ever been happy. But it was time to move on, as the final battle was approaching. He wasn't even sure if he would be completing the year at Hogwarts. He just knew what he had to do if he did complete it. He had already decided to apply for Auror training once he had his NEWTs in the bag. And then the next stop, Voldemort. But still, the realisation that this was to be his last year at Hogwarts hurt.
Hermione was rather excited; she had been looking forward to this day ever since she had been made prefect back in their fifth year. Her appointment as the Head Girl was purely along expected lines…but she was a tad disappointed that none of her friends had been made Head Boy. Well, she had known in her heart it couldn't be Ron as he had not distinguished himself as a prefect in any way. And seeing that Dumbledore hadn't made Harry a prefect either in their fifth year, her hopes hadn't been too high for him. But still, it would have been nice if it had been them. She didn't know who the Head Boy was as yet, but she knew she would find out on the train soon enough.
Ron was rather depressed. First, he had got up a bit late and hadn't had time for breakfast, and his stomach was rumbling. Second, he had missed the chance to be kissed goodbye by Fleur yet again, thanks to Ginny. And lastly, Hermione seemed too lost in her own world to pay any attention to him. And Harry being rather pensive wasn't helping the matters at all. At least they could've talked about quidditch. But no such luck. He would just have to pass the time somehow.
Ginny was unsure as to how to feel. On the one hand, she was relieved at being freed from the company of Fleur and her mother…talk of her mother, it was rather alarming how she had suddenly taken a liking to Fleur. Nobody could imagine she had been against Bill marrying her in the first place. She supposed it was because of the baby. Anyways, it was a blessing to get away from those two. On the other hand, she didn't know where her relationship with Harry would go once they were among their peers. If he was distracted when they were alone, heaven knew what he would be now. She didn't want to be so possessive about him, but she had this fear deep within her…what if Harry didn't come back after fighting with Voldemort! She wanted to make most of the time that they had together, but she didn't know how to put her point across.
When they reached the station, they got out of the ministry cars and the accompanying aurors got them trolleys. Harry hated this protection thing but knew that he couldn't do anything about it.
They got through the barrier as if sleepwalking, each lost in their own world. But as the scarlet steam engine came into view, they all perked up.
There was the usual bustle of hauling up their trunks, bidding their goodbyes to the tearful Mrs. Weasley and a rather amused Tonks, dressed up as a mild old witch this time, looking remarkably like aunt Petunia. Harry rather thought she had done it on purpose.
Once inside, they found themselves an empty compartment and settled down. Suddenly, Hermione jumped up, startling everyone.
"Oh, I forgot. I have to go to the Heads compartment. And er, Ron and Ginny, you have to first report to the prefects carriage, and then, er, patrol the corridors. Um, see you at the feast, Harry. " and then snatching up her satchel full of books, she was gone.
Harry again felt the sinking feeling of being left alone; this time Ginny was a prefect too. But he simply shrugged at his friends. "See you later, then."
Ron and Ginny both felt guilty and odd at leaving Harry alone. But it couldn't be helped. So they trudged off.
A few minutes later, Neville and Luna entered his compartment, followed by Dean and Seamus. Soon, Harry forgot everything as he got lost in discussing quidditch.
Hermione nearly ran to the Heads compartment…that had been awful. She didn't want to leave her friends, but this had to be done. And she felt bad about having to tell Ron and Ginny what to do. The worst was leaving Harry all by himself…she really hated that.
Lost in her misery, she didn't realize she had reached her destination. Automatically, she turned the knob and went inside, to be confronted by the sight of Draco Malfoy resting on a couch, taking up all the space and idly perusing the Daily Prophet.
Hermione froze. Of all the people she had expected to be made Head Boy, Malfoy hadn't even figured on the list. And yet, here he was, looking at her with his silvery gray eyes, his mouth slowly forming his trademark smirk.
"What are you doing here?" she blurted out, cursing herself almost immediately for giving herself away like that.
"Why, waiting for you, Granger." He supplied smoothly.
"Waiting for me? How did you know it would be me?" Hermione asked as she shut the door behind her and sat down on an armchair.
"I had absolutely no doubt that it would be you, Granger. Dumbledore, after all, has his reputation to think of." Draco drawled out. "Of a mudblood-loving fool," he added as he read the question on her face.
"Oh, foolish, is he! He made you the Head Boy, don't forget." She replied rather waspishly.
"Well, even foolish old men have their moments of great wisdom", he quipped.
"We'll see about that, wont we?" she asked rather sweetly.
"I am rather content on seeing you for now, Granger", he answered, running his eyes lazily over her figure. Hermione flushed.
"What are you doing?" she asked, rather shocked.
"Why, checking you out, Granger. Surely that was obvious! The years have been kind to you." Draco replied rather coolly, and picked up his paper again. There, he thought, that was nicely put. Neither too offensive, nor too friendly. He still hadn't decided what to do, so he was going to play it by the ear. Being tolerant to the mudblood in the meantime might help, for Merlin knew what he would have to do to smarmy up to Potter later if the need arose. He would have to be careful, though…if he got too soft, she might suspect he was up to something. The whole idea was distasteful, but what the heck, a man must do all he can to save his skin. And he buried himself in his paper again.
Hermione was in a different kind of turmoil. She had never been "checked out" like that before. Who would check her out, that was also a question. Harry felt like a brother; and besides, he was so much preoccupied these days, he wouldn't even have noticed if she had grown horns on her nose. Ron could never look at her like that…so boldly and so…audaciously. In fact, Ron would only steal glances at her, and if she caught his eye, he would turn red and look away. Checking her out was something that Ron could not do even in his dreams. She knew he respected her as a friend first.
Malfoy, however, was totally different. She didn't think there were that many people whom he respected, and he certainly didn't respect any girls. There were rumors at Hogwarts, about him and a number of girls. And the nastiest one was about him two-timing Parkinson and her best friend Baxter. The latter had left the school for good after that. Malfoy had the kind of reputation that girls whispered about, giggling excitedly and wondering inside when he would look their way, while outwardly claiming they were immune to his charms. The worst part was, the cocky bastard knew it.
Hermione sat there, twisting her hands in her lap, while Malfoy continued to be absorbed in the sports section. Damn all boys. She was shaken up by his seemingly casual comment and the not-so-casual look that he had given her. Why, he had even complimented her…a mudblood in his book. Had he changed that much, she thought not! The years had been kind to her…well, she had certainly filled out nicely, and finally learned to tame her preposterous hair so that they resembled a wild shrub slightly less these days. But she was still the same as ever otherwise…dressing more for practicality than fashion…sacrificing style for comfort.
Malfoy, on the other hand, was always dressed to kill. He always wore designer labels, only the finest things worked for him. Well, money had its uses. But it was more than money. He was just too good looking for his own good. His sense of style was inherent to him…part of his nature. His quidditch training had meant work-outs, and that had resulted in a perfectly sculpted, well-toned body. He was tall, around 6 feet 2, and already had a physique to die for. Add to that his platinum blond locks and piercing gray eyes, and he had more than enough reason to have his head permanently in the clouds. Which is where it usually was. And the worst part was, his cockiness added to his looks, instead of working against him.
"…and then the goblins and the mudbloods lived happily ever after!"
"What?" Hermione asked, shocked and startled at the same time.
"I was merely wondering what exactly would bring you back to earth", Malfoy replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. He had gotten rid of his paper, and was now reclining on the couch, looking at her with a faint interest.
"Very funny", she seethed.
"Calm down, Granger…I m trying to be as nice as I possibly can to you. Don't you realize that?"
"By calling me a mudblood?" Hermione asked archly.
"Ah, c'mon Granger. After so many years…think of it as, ah, a term of endearment."
"Really! And why would you want to be nice to me, Malfoy?" Hermione inquired rather coolly.
"Because we are going to be living together this year, more or less, and I am one peace-loving guy."
Hermione snorted, "oh sure."
"Don't believe me? Tsk tsk. Oh ye of little faith. Besides, now that you have started looking more like a girl and less like a walking tree with a book stuck on it, I feel I have to take it into consideration. By the way, has the Weasel noticed?" Malfoy now seemed to be enjoying himself.
"What has that got to do with you?" Hermione was on the defensive again, forgetting the rest of his statement.
"Nothing. Just asked out of a purely academic interest. But I do wonder at times…what do you see in him?" Malfoy smirked.
"Oh, so these are you academic interests, Malfoy! No wonder your grades at school don't pick up."
"Touche!" Malfoy smiled. "I mean to ask, you are loaded with brains, too much in fact, but still…and you have a fairly passable face, and now that I have seen it, a passable figure as well. Why would someone like you fancy Weasel King, of all people! He is not famous like Potter or Krum, not good looking like, well, me…he looks more like a moron who's been out in the sun too long, he is not rich, he is not unduly burdened by way-too-much intellect, and if he's terribly talented at something, then he hides it well. So what is it?"
Hermione had by now started hyperventilating. How dare this slimy git keep piling insult upon insult on Ron, specially now that he's not here to shut his mouth for him!
"Are you jealous of him, Malfoy?" she finally spat at him.
Malfoy seemed startled by this, and then he started laughing. It was not a sneer, not a sarcastic laugh, but a real, ringing laugh, full of genuine amusement. And it made Hermione mad more than a fake laugh would have. This bastard really thought Ron was no good.
"I'll have you know, Malfoy, that Ron is way better than you are, at almost everything that is worth doing or being." She fumed at him.
It only served to make him laugh harder still. He clutched the side of his couch to prevent himself from falling over, continuing to shake from mirth. Last time she had seen him laugh so hard had been when Ron's broken wand had misfired and he had ended up belching out slugs.
Even through her anger, she couldn't help noticing how attractive his genuine laugh was, how desirable he looked when he threw back his head and his chest heaved with mirth, how sensual his eyes looked, with silvery light dancing in their gray pools…how come she hadn't noticed that before! How come she was noticing it now, when the evil creature was laughing at Ron, she suddenly seethed at herself.
Malfoy, meanwhile, was calming down, holding his stomach with one hand and wiping out tears from his eyes with the other.
"I haven't laughed so hard in ages, Granger. Looks like you have picked up a sense of humor too, over the summer. Way to go. This will be a fun year, I can see that now."
Deciding that if she spoke anything at all, it would only work for him, she glared at him and taking a book out of her satchel, buried her nose in it. Malfoy smirked.