Hermione raced through the enchanted entrance of Platform 9 & ¾ just in time. She pulled her muggle suitcase behind her, up onto the train car as the train whistled an "all aboard" warning.
She paced down the corridor as quickly as she could while peeking into each window for the telltale signs of her friends. Hermione kept an eye out for the least conspicuous of her friends, the Weasleys who could be identified by their fiery hair. But then Hermione saw a gaggle of younger girls giggling and peering into a compartment near the end of the train.
Hermione smiled because she had found her friends. Only Neville Longbottom could attract so many twittering females.
Just as she picked up her pace, she found herself face to face-actually, face to chest, as the man she collided with was considerably taller than she was.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry," she stammered, looking up, "I didn't-"
Draco Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy was the one whose chest she was touching.
Draco Malfoy was the one whom she had just apologized to.
She backed of immediately and sharply, letting out a sound of disgust as a reflex.