A.N. : Hi everyone! Thank you so much for checking out my story! As the chapters unfold, their awkward—but undeniably adorable—love story will begin to spark, so I hope you'll stick around. I know it's short, but I truly wish you enjoy this chapter! (^-^)/

PART2

Without meeting her best friends yet, Hermione entered the Great Hall, her stomach fluttering with nerves. The room was bursting with first years—wide-eyed, overwhelmed, and still half-soaked from the rain outside. She found a spot next to Parvati Patil, who was already gossiping with Lavender Brown, and tried not to look as worried as she felt. Where were Harry and Ron?

It struck her as a little absurd—and maybe even a tad rude—that no one seemed to notice or care about Ron's absence, let alone worry about it. The poor boy's presence was often overshadowed by his famous best friend. Hermione shook the thought away, focusing instead on the Sorting ceremony.

When Ginny Weasley's name was called, Hermione sat up straighter. Ginny moved toward the Sorting Hat with a grace Hermione hadn't noticed before. The last time she'd seen Ginny, back at Diagon Alley, the girl had been covered in ash, her face barely visible beneath a soot-streaked fringe. Now, however, her vivid red hair gleamed under the enchanted ceiling, and her freckles shone like constellations. She looked radiant.

The Sorting Hat barely brushed Ginny's head before shouting, "GRYFFINDOR!" Applause erupted from the Gryffindor table, but Hermione's attention flicked to the Slytherin side. She caught sight of Malfoy leaning toward Crabbe, his pale face lit with a smirk as he muttered something that made Crabbe's round, piggish face twist into a laugh.

Of course, Hermione thought grimly. He's making some nasty comment about the Weasleys. She shot him a glare that could have frozen the entire Black Lake, but Malfoy didn't notice. His pale, pointed face was fixed on Ginny as she walked to the Gryffindor table, his expression unreadable.

"Congratulations, Ginny," Hermione said, polite but distracted. Her curiosity got the better of her. "Do you know where Ron and Harry are? You were with them at Diagon Alley, right?"

Before Ginny could respond, Parvati interjected breezily, "I heard they crashed a flying car and got expelled."

Ginny's eyes widened in shock. "What? Expelled?"

Parvati shrugged, clearly enjoying the drama.

"Oh, I bet it's Ron's fault," Ginny muttered, though her worry was evident. "I just hope Harry's okay. And why is that prat staring at me like that?"

Hermione followed Ginny's glare to the Slytherin table—right to Malfoy. He was watching Ginny, but not in the usual smug, condescending way. His expression was more calculating, as though he were trying to solve a particularly difficult riddle.

"Prat," Ginny repeated firmly. Hermione couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride. Ginny already had him pegged.

"He's scanning me like I just committed some unspeakable crime," Ginny said, her voice dripping with disdain.

"Well," Hermione replied, "if anyone knows about committing unspeakable crimes, it's Draco Malfoy."

Ginny smirked but quickly turned serious. Her worry for her brother and Harry seemed to swallow her whole. She had tried to brush off Parvati's comment, but what if it was true? Expelled? No, it couldn't be. She closed her eyes, silently pleading, Please, Merlin, let them be alright.

I kept watching Weasley's little sister. That hair—ugh, it's so red. But at least she's nothing like her brother. Too innocent. The same way I felt last year, though I'd never admit it to anyone.

I shouldn't feel this. Empathy? For her? Ridiculous. She doesn't even know. She's walking around like this is the best year of her life, completely unaware it might also be her last.

Maybe I should warn her.

…No. Never. What am I thinking? My father would kill me.

I frowned, keeping my usual cold and superior expression in place, but beneath it, my stomach twisted with guilt. I shifted slightly, a dull ache radiating from my side. It's always there, lurking just beneath the surface—a reminder I can't ignore. My hand hovered over the spot briefly before I pulled it back, keeping my face blank.

No one can know. No one will know. That part of me stays buried. Because if anyone found out… well, they wouldn't just see a Malfoy. They'd see something broken. And that, I can't allow.

The ceremony ended, and Hermione made her way back to the Gryffindor tower, her thoughts churning. She was halfway up the staircase when she spotted two figures at the portrait of the Fat Lady—one with wild black hair and glasses, the other with flaming red hair. Relief and irritation collided as she ran toward them.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of relief and accusation. "Where have you been? The most ridiculous rumors—someone said you'd been expelled—" She stopped short, taking a deep breath. "You're not telling me you actually flew here, are you?"

"Er…" Ron began, looking sheepish. "It's a long story."

"The barrier wouldn't let us through," Harry added quickly.

"So we borrowed the car," Ron continued.

"And then the Whomping Willow—"

"We were nearly killed," Harry interjected dramatically.

"But we're fine," Ron finished with a grin. "And we didn't get expelled, obviously."

Hermione stared at them, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. "I understood nothing except that you were almost expelled. Tell me the rest once we are inside. The password's 'wattlebird.'"

The Fat Lady yawned, clearly unimpressed by their antics, and swung the portrait open with a flourish.

"Welcome back," Hermione said dryly as they climbed through the entrance. "You two are impossible."

But as they stepped into the warmth of the common room, Hermione felt a wave of gratitude. They were back. Safe. Whole. Even if they were reckless, exasperating, and—sometimes—unbearable, they were hers.

(A.N. : Please leave me a review! Anything is welcome—questions, predictions, advice—it all means the world to me and keeps me motivated to write more.)