Hermione tried to slow her breathing as she climbed the stairs to the Great Hall. It was quiet, with most students having arrived some ten minutes earlier. She had forgone the Hogwarts Express, choosing instead to apparate to Hogsmead and walk the remainder of the way. The cool air was calming and somewhat helped to settle the anxiety that had been brewing since she had decided to return.
All students who had attempted to complete their seventh year during the war had been invited back. For Hermione, there wasn't even a question as to whether or not she would return. But her certainty floundered when Harry and Ron decided not to. She didn't try to convince them otherwise - understanding that they felt a strong urge to move on from Hogwarts and start fresh. And with the offer of Auror training presented to all three of them at the end of the war, she was supportive of their decision. But Hermione could not bear the thought of not formally finishing her education. So, she pushed the anxiety of it all into the back of her mind, packed her bag and came back.
Hermione had been informed only a week earlier that she had been made Head Girl - a title that once would have thrilled her. But now, the thought of having such a prominent position made her hands shake and stomach turn. She didn't want to be seen. Instead, hoping that she could get through the year with little drama and limited attention. But when Professor McGonagall had written to her just a month previous, informing her of her new title, she had sounded so excited that Hermione couldn't bear the thought of rejecting such an offer. Besides, the role came with its own dormitory - a room of her own where she could focus on completing her education without the bother of roommates.
"Ms Granger," she heard her name in that same welcoming tone she had for the past seven years. Professor McGonagall appeared beside her. "Welcome back," she added. Hermione could see her searching for her next words. Like she wanted to ask 'did you have a good holiday?' or 'are you doing well?' But those questions seemed strange… inappropriate, given the circumstances. So instead, she went with "I'm so very glad to see you."
Hermione responded with a small smile and "you too Professor".
McGonagall returned the smile and for a moment, Hermione could see the sadness behind her eyes. Though it was quickly erased by a professional front and she took in a sharp breath. "Well, my dear. We better get in there. Two more minutes and we'll both be late."
Hermione released a small laugh and shook her head. "Never, Professor."
Hermione walked a few paces towards the door of the Great Hall before McGonagall added, "Oh, and Hermione dear, could you come by my office after dinner? I have something rather important I'd like to discuss with you."
"Of course, Professor," Hermione responded, ever the perfect student. Taking one more deep breath, she pressed through the doors of the great hall, resentful of the need to put on such an intense mask. She had never needed that before, always excited and willing to start another year at Hogwarts. This year felt different. No Harry, no Ron and racked with fear and anxiety from the war that she was getting very good at pushing down.
Hermione walked down the middle aisle of the Great Hall, towards the front of the Gryffindor table. McGonagall hadn't explicitly asked her to do so, but Hermione knew that as Head Girl, she should sit close to the front, ready to greet the innocent first years and they join her house. When she reached the front of the table, she let out a sigh of relief when she saw Ginny and Neville, smiling back at her.
"'Mione!" Ginny expressed as she sat down opposite the two. Hermione reached out to squeeze both their hands.
"You made it," Neville added with a comforting smile.
And for a moment, things felt a little more normal. Hermione was glad Neville had chosen to return. The two of them were part of just a small group of students who had decided to do so. His comforting presence made the absence of Harry and Ron a little more bearable.
A few minutes passed and Hermione suddenly found herself overwhelmed by the noise in the Great Hall. The constant chattering of students and grating of knives and forks across plates felt louder than usual. She felt herself drifting into that pit of anxiety she had grown so familiar with.
"'Mione… Hermione?" she finally tuned into Ginny's voice, calling her. She caught Ginny's eyes and smiled, muttering a small apology. "Have something to eat," Ginny pressed, pushing a plate of Yorkshire pudding towards her. Hermione swallowed hard and cleared her throat, remembering that she needed to at least pretend to be interested in food. It was hard for her to remember a time when she was thrilled by the thought of this very dinner. The excitement of this moment was always readily anticipated and Hermione always loved filling her plate with the various delicacies to share a welcome back meal with her friends. This time, she had to force herself to plate up a small selection of food. Since the war ended, there was a never-ending pit in her stomach and the thought of eating usually made her feel ill.
She forced herself to take a few small bites as she pushed the remaining food around her plate. Thankfully, she was soon interrupted by McGonagall, who approached the front of the Great Hall, the same way she had seen Professor Dumbledore do so each year.
Hermione used to love watching the sorting ceremony. There was such a youthful excitement to the whole process that made her long for that time, when things were simpler and her biggest worry was getting good grades. But this time, the sorting ceremony went by in a blur. With each new student sorted into Gryffindor, she vaguely remembered getting up to congratulate them and welcome them to the table. But her voice was so intensely fake that Hermione didn't even really recognise it. She was relieved when it ended and she felt sorry for feeling that way.
Following the sorting ceremony, Hermione knew that McGonagall would likely stay in the Great Hall for a short while afterwards – chatting with colleagues and comforting any distressed first years. "I think I'm going to go and start unpacking," she told Ginny, who was three bites deep in a custard tart. "McGonagall wants to speak with me after dinner, so I'd like to get a head start on organising my new room," she clarified in unnecessary detail, hoping that Ginny wouldn't be offended by her early departure from dinner.
"Okay," Ginny replied, trying to conceal her disappointment. "Would you like me to come with you? I'd be more than happy to help."
"No," Hermione responded, a little too quickly. "I mean… thank you for the offer but I'll be fine… I'll see you both at breakfast," she added, smiling between Ginny and Neville. She quickly rose from the table and made her way back down the centre aisle. The quiet whispering and stares she received from other students as she did so, did not go unnoticed. The great Hermione Granger would usually never be the first to leave. And now that the other students had quickly settled into their old routine, that very moment was used as an opportunity for gossip and speculation. Hermione tried to ignore the whispers, having long ago adjusted to the unwanted attention she would receive in her role alongside Harry Potter. But much like most of the night had gone, this time, it felt different. And for a brief moment, she cursed Harry and Ron for letting her return alone.
The walk to her new dormitory was short. Though that may have been because she was walking twice her usual speed in fear of someone following her or attempting to stop her in conversation. When she reached the door of the head's dormitory, she recited that password McGonagall had given her to the portrait, which slowly parted to allow her entrance.
Hermione walked into the common area and glanced around the space. The walls were covered with ornate tapestries in shades of red, green, blue and yellow. The lack of clear house preference did not go unnoticed and Hermione rather liked being surrounded by so many different colours. The space felt warm and welcoming, with a fireplace blazing in the centre of the room. There was plenty of seating surrounding it and Hermione's eyes landed on a beautiful chaise lounge in a dark mahogany wood with a deep burgundy and gold patterned fabric. She caught herself imagining a time where things felt normal again and she could settle down with a book and a cup of tea on that very chaise.
There were three other doors in the space. She had been told that her room was the one on the left. So, she presumed the door on the right led to the room of Head Boy and the door on the back wall led to the bathroom. Hermione let out a long sigh that she didn't realise she'd been holding in for so long. She smiled softly and told herself that perhaps this year wouldn't be so bad after all. A quiet, private space away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the castle was just what she needed.
It was at that moment when Hermione was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of two male voices, growing in volume as the door on the right opened. For a brief second, Hermione considered running to her own room in order to avoid the inevitable interaction that was about to take place. But there was no time to do so and a short second later, two boys, in black and green robes, appeared outside the door.
Her stomach dropped and she could have sworn she forgot how to breath. Fighting the urge to allow what little dinner she had to make a reappearance, she swallowed deeply and attempted to speak. But no matter how hard she tried, nothing would come out. She simply stared at the two Slytherins, mouth agape and nails pressed into her palms.
"Granger," the Slytherin on the left eventually broke the silence. "Good to see you," he added in a voice that Hermione might have thought was genuine had it not come from the mouth of a Slytherin.
"Theodore Nott," she eventually choked out, glancing at the tall, brunette boy.
Hermione watched Theo smiled awkwardly as he looked between her and the Slytherin standing next to him. He cleared his throat as his eyes darted back and forth between them.
"Granger," the second Slytherin finally added. His voice was hoarse and he refused to make eye contact with her. At that, Hermione was relieved.
"Malfoy," she responded, unsuccessfully trying to conceal the distain in her voice.
In all her anxiety in the lead up to her return to Hogwarts, she hadn't even thought about, let alone feared, who Head Boy would be. And as she stood before the two Slytherins, she found herself desperately hoping that Head Boy was Theodore Nott.
The room was uncomfortably silent and Hermione felt her left arm tingle, something it would often do when she was stressed or anxious. She pressed the thumb of her right hand to her forearm in an attempt to sooth the growing pain she felt pulsing through her scar.
"Well," Theo cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "I should probably be going. I'll see you at breakfast mate?" Draco nodded and Hermione's stomach dropped impossibly lower as she tasted bile on her tongue. Theo walked past her and the dormitory door closed heavily behind him as he left.
"You cannot be serious," Hermione breathed out as she glared at Draco furiously. "This cannot be happening."
"I can't say I'm too thrilled about this arrangement either," he responded bitterly.
"Did you know?" Hermione asked accusatorily. "Did you know it was going to be me walking through those doors?"
Draco nodded. "McGonagall told me when I arrived. She told me she was going to talk to you before you came here."
Hermione breath caught in her throat as she now understood why McGonagall has requested to see her after dinner. She was going to tell – or rather warn – Hermione of her impending fate. With a frustrated sigh, she swiftly turned towards the door, slamming it behind her as she paced quickly for the headmistress's office.
When she reached the ugly stone gargoyle as the entrance to the office, McGonagall was already standing there, speaking softly to Professor Slughorn. "Please tell me this is a joke," Hermione said breathlessly. "Please tell me you don't actually intend on me sharing a space with Draco Malfoy."
McGonagall pressed her lips into a thin line and she made eye contact with Hermione. "We will continue this conversation tomorrow, Horace," she said calmly to Slughorn who nodded and bid them both good night. "Ms Granger, follow me," McGonagall added as she recited the password to the gargoyle who promptly allowed them entrance to the headmistress's office.
Hermione followed McGonagall inside, trying to control her breathing. She did not want to appear out of control in front of the headmistress. Her left arm had grown from a sting to a burn and Hermione pressed the nail of her right thumb through her sleeve in an unsuccessful attempt to sooth it.
"I was hoping to speak with you before you retired to your dormitory," McGonagall started as she sat at her desk. She gently gestured to the chair in front, encouraging Hermione to sit.
"I can see why," Hermione replied shortly, dropping into the chair.
"It was not my intention, dear, to upset you," McGonagall clarified. "I hope you will give me the opportunity to explain before you make any demands of me."
Hermione sighed. McGonagall always could read her well. Though Hermione wasn't sure at this stage which demand she wanted to make – that Malfoy be removed, or she be removed herself. In order to give herself more time to consider, she breathed a short "okay, go ahead," to McGonagall.
"I am sure you are aware that Draco Malfoy has been under house arrest since the conclusion of the war," she started calmly. Hermione nodded, knowing all too well what had come of all death eater families after the war. She had been a witness in many of the trials – recounting in horrific detail, the atrocities she had seen during her time fighting. She had not directly been involved in the trial of any members of the Malfoy family but she knew Harry had been. She knew he spoke avidly against Lucius Malfoy, contributing to his life sentence in Azkaban. As for Narcissa Malfoy, he testified against her imprisonment and affirmed that her cover up of his assumed death was what ultimately saved his life. Similarly with Draco, Harry spoke in favour of probation and reformation, stating his belief that Malfoy was under the duress of his father and Voldemort – and he too saved Harry's life that night at Malfoy Manor. Hermione understood Harry's decision in the matter. While he had never liked Malfoy, he had enough compassion to see past his actions and view him as a victim.
Hermione was not surprised when it was announced that both Narcissa and Draco Malfoy had evaded prison and been placed under house arrest. She knew Harry's testimony was weighty and the dominant decision-making factor in many of the trials. However, it had never crossed her mind to even consider that Draco Malfoy would have been allowed to return to Hogwarts. So, as she sat in front of Professor McGonagall, still pressing into her burning scar, she was determined to learn why he, not only had been allowed to return, but also why he had been made Head Boy.
"Well…" McGonagall continued. "Over the past few months, there has been extensive discourse between myself, the Minister of Magic and the Wizengamot, in regards to probationary steps for Mr Malfoy… I'll spare you the details but it was advised that, as part of his reformation, Mr Malfoy should be expected to complete his education here at Hogwarts."
Hermione could feel her heart beating out of her chest and her breathing stall. She attempted to calm herself with little avail and she formed her next words. "I understand that Professor," she said quickly. "But that doesn't explain why he has been made Head Boy. Having Malfoy back at Hogwarts is one thing… but placing him in a position of power, where he needs to be respected and trusted by the younger students… I'm sorry Professor but, it just doesn't make any sense." She found herself rambling and dug her nail further into her scar in order to stop herself.
"Yes, I understand why you feel that way," McGonagall continued sympathetically. "It was on my recommendation that Mr Malfoy be given the position." At that revelation, Hermione felt herself go cold. Why would McGonagall even want Malfoy in such a position? "I am of the opinion that leadership can help shape a person. In this case, I believe that Mr Malfoy could benefit greatly from the responsibility and expectations required of the role of Head Boy." McGonagall spoke frankly, clearly indicating that this was not a negotiable situation. She glanced down at her hands in her lap and noticed the spots of red blood that had started to seep through her sleeve. Her scar had passed the burning stage and had now transitioned into searing pain that radiated through her entire forearm.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry out in hurt and betrayal. She desperately wanted to questions why McGonagall would do this to her. But, ever the model student, she simply rose from her chair and stated calmly, "thank you for your explanation. Good night, Professor." McGonagall appeared confused. Like she was expecting to have to elaborate or convince Hermione to stay in her position as Head Girl. After a moments hesitation she similarly rose and similarly uttered good night.
As Hermione left the headmistresses office, she cursed silently at her inability to question McGonagall further. But her anxiety was growing uncontrollably and the thought of staying in that room any longer made her want to scream. She couldn't breathe and the pain in her arm was so unbearable that she wished she'd never returned to Hogwarts.
Hermione rounded the corner and found herself back at her dormitory. She briefly considered finding somewhere else to go – anywhere was better than in there, with him. But the searing sensation in her arm was begging for calm and she wanted nothing but to stand under the cold sensation of a shower. She muttered the password and entered the common area, stumbling like a drunkard to the bathroom door.
"Granger?" she heard her name from his cursed lips. He was sitting on the burgundy and gold chaise she had admired not long before everything had fallen apart. Her eyes began to pool and she realised that Malfoy must have noticed. She turned her head sharply away from him and rapidly made the last few steps to the bathroom. She pressed the door open and shut it loudly behind her as she finally let her tears fall freely.