"Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy," the tall figure leading the way paused and turned around to face them. The lines on Professor McGonagall's face deepened as she assessed, over the silver rims of her spectacles, the two students trailing behind her.
"Promise me you two will cooperate," she sighed. The platinum blonde to her right jerked his head away, muttering under his breath. The brunette also turned her gaze downwards, her eyes flaming with rage.
"Just... be civil," Minerva McGonagall sighed and turned back toward the steep stairwell she was leading them upon. She knew that after the war, people still held hostilities toward Malfoy and his family but really, she hoped they would see the braver side of the young man. His mother had saved Harry, he had saved Harry when Harry was sent to his manor. He was also a good student, grades second only to Hermione.
"Here we are." She had stopped in front of a large portrait.
"Sir Cadogan?" Hermione's shocked voice came from behind.
"Aha! What villains are these, that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!" Before any could speak, the stumpy knight in the portrait sprung to his feet, brandishing his comically short sword at them.
Ignoring the commotion, Professor McGonagall turned toward the two students.
"As Head Girl and Head Boy, you will have to decide on a password to your commons. Please be quick. I have other things to attend to."
"How about "Ferret"?" Hermione said loudly, her eyes still blazing.
"Yeah?" Malfoy turned toward her, his hand already in his wand pocket, "Shut up, you filthy—" Then, as if realizing what he was just about to say, he quickly stopped. Surprised, Hermione turned toward him.
"Aha! I hear Ferret? Ferret it is!" Before anyone could respond, Sir Cadogan had sheathed his sword and swung the portrait open. Hermione smirked and stepped through the portrait hole along with the professor, slamming the door behind her to a loud, unmanly shriek of "Granger!"
When they had all come into the standard room, Malfoy still muttering a myriad of curses, they both stopped when they saw the view. The room was gorgeous, with a large carpet embroidered with red and green, the two houses of the Heads. Soft, plush couches and even red and green beanbag couches were strewn across the room. There were shelves of leather-bound books lining the walls, and Hermione could not wait to get her hands upon those. A large mahogany desk also sat in the middle of the carpet, no doubt a place for which they could complete their school work. Hermione could see two doors in front, leading off from the main room. In between the two was a sizeable blazing fireplace. Hermione caught sight of her old, battered suitcase and a gleaming cream-colored one by the fireplace. No doubt Malfoy's.
"Oh my god," Hermione breathed. The room smelled like old books and faint chamomile tea. When she looked up, the ceiling was just like the Great Hall's; she could see the night sky outside, with dashes of dark purple, blues, and an occasional streak of pink, intermixed between the clouds. Beside her, Malfoy just looked bored. This might just be a small corner of his lavish lifestyle, Hermione thought annoyedly.
"I'm sure you will figure all this out," The professor was at the portrait hole now, "It's getting late, and you need sleep. Report to my office — the headmistress's office — tomorrow after breakfast. And, remember, if you two get into an altercation, that badge will be retracted. Good night." She turned sharply on her heel and exited, leaving the two in complete silence.
Hermione felt a cold tingling down her spine. She had wanted to be Head Girl for all the years she's been at Hogwarts; she couldn't let Malfoy destroy what she had earned with so much effort.
"A truce then," She said abruptly. Malfoy did not respond. Instead, he walked toward the rooms, opening the doors and inspecting the interior.
Without giving any sign of hearing what she had said, Malfoy grabbed his suitcase and owl cage and proceeded to drag them toward the room on the right.
"Malfoy." She spoke loudly as the door shut behind Malfoy, "Do I need to clean your ears out for you?"
"Fine, Granger, whatever." His reply seemed tired and very unlike the person he had once been before the war — when he had a sharp tongue and a sly gleam in his pale grey irises.