Hermione was not an early riser. She wished she had been born with the gift of waking up smoothly at the break of dawn without the need of an alarm clock spell. It was somewhat difficult to get back into the school hour rhythm. Having forgotten to set her alarm the night before, the girl barely had time to get dressed, much less have time to spare to eat the quick breakfast she'd fantasized about. She ran towards the Great Hall, half skipping since in her rush she had mixed up her shoes, putting the left on the right and vice versa. All those resolutions she'd made over the summer... To not wake up at the last minute, so she could actually tame her ridiculously wild hair or maybe even be able to work on her appearance, disappeared into fine air. Ginny had made good use of their many Muggle shopping sprees in London over the holidays. The Muggleborn witch had introduced the red head to nonmagical makeup. It really was her own fault, she should have known better. So voila ! Our dear Hermione had been talked into wearing lip gloss and eye kohl. This morning though was not going as planned. It had gotten worse when she'd spotted a perfectly groomed Malfoy as she'd rushed out of their Common Room. Huffing and puffing, she entered the Hall (when had it moved so far across the Castle ?) where she spotted her friends finishing what seemed like a lovely breakfast. She grabbed a piece of toast as she walked up to them and sat, already exhausted from her unplanned jog. While Professor Flitwick handed out the new time tables, she told the gang about her living arrangements. They oohed and aahed at all the right places but she could tell they weren't really into her vivid descriptions. The boys were too busy swallowing extra large amounts of food and Ginny was occupied gazing, no, more like staring holes, straight at Harry's scull with disgust.

“Harry !” she exclaimed, “ I can expect this sort of mouth stuffing from my brother but coming from you – she shuddered - it's gross.”

Hermione stifled back a laugh as Flitwick handed her her schedule for the year. She'd signed up for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Herbology, History of Magic and Astronomy. The boys both had the same classes as her, except they'd decided to stop Astronomy and had never taken either Arithmancy or Ancient Runes. They noticed, as well, that they weren't signed up for History of Magic, the subject they had failed on their O.W.L.s along with Divination. That made a total of 9 N.E.W.T.s for Hermione and only 5 for Harry and Ronald.

“This wasn't necessary, we had jobs lined up for us as Aurors for the M.O.M.” said an annoyed Ron. Harry shared the same opinion but the trio had made the unbreakable vow to stick together. If that meant an extra year of schooling to please Hermione, so it was. They were bound no matter what.

“Suck it up Ronald Weasley, you owe me this much. So be a gentleman and don't ruin my last year !” she added, “Anyways, the jobs will still be there. The Minister himself said they'd save the spots for you two.”

Kingsley had promised the pair that they would not lose their chance if they returned for their seventh year. They deserved a break, as he had put it. It was true, most students had been forced to grow up faster than expected and deal with terrible horrors far too brutal at such a young age. Hermione sometimes wondered what her life would have been like if she'd never gotten her acceptance letter when she was eleven. Or if her parents had refused to send her here to study magic. If they'd said no, had she not been born a witch, would she have been happier ? Gone to Muggle school, met different friends, studied “normal” subjects. She wouldn't have battled the worlds darkest wizards, fought a war, become famous as a member of the Golden Trio or been considered the brightest witch of her age. The Minister had asked Hermione if she was interested in a Ministry job as well and if so he'd make arrangements to make sure she would be able to obtain it without applying. The girl had refused. She wasn't sure yet what she wanted to do after Hogwarts but it didn't involve working behind a desk. She had bad memories of the place. Sirius had died there after all. Their adventure during fifth year still gave her nightmares. It had been a time of war, yes. Things had changed since, of course they had. Even so, she wasn't a hundred percent certain she believed in the Ministry. She thought electing Kingsley Shacklebolt as Minister for Magic had been a brilliant idea. He was a good man and could make the smart decisions to push the country forwards in the right direction and move on from the dark times Britain had newly left behind without forgetting about them. It was just that at the moment, for now at least, Hermione had been through a lot. So much had changed since last September. Death of loved ones, the end of Voldemort's reign of terror, Harry's enlightenment about being the last Horcrux, explaining his shared connection to the mad man. Her step forwards in a maybe permanent relationship with Ron. The foundations were all set, however he had pulled back progressively. Slowly he had gone from sweet to distant. He never seemed to have enough time for her in his O' so busy life. She had since then left “them” on a sort of break. She missed him but not as much as she thought she would. It hadn't turned out to be the end of the world. If it didn't work out in the end, contrary to what she had imagined before, she would not die of a broken hearth. On the other hand, Harry and Ginny had only grown closer over the months. It was a bittersweet feeling for her. She was happy for them but at the same time wondered why it couldn't have been her and Ron instead.

Harry pointed out that it was time for the daily mail delivery. His gaze suddenly turned sorrowful as he thought of his poor owl Hedwig. He hadn't bought another pet, he instead used Pig. It seemed like Harry imagined he'd be cheating on her if he did.

A handsome barn owl, pure brown, eye color and all soared towards the group and seated itself on Ginny's plate. It was Clifter, George's owl. He lifted his leg, on which was tied a letter addressed to the the little Weasley. She untied the envelope and managed not to smear her half finished beans over it while removing it from the creature's leg. Ginny's head bent forwards, hiding her freckled face behind her beautiful, long locks. She tore open the envelope and pore over the fast scribbled words. Her face turned ashen, a teardrop slid down her rosy cheek and fell on the letter. Ron immediately grabbed the note that had caused his sister to cry in a matter of seconds. Harry read over his mate's shoulder. Hermione noticed the sudden anger that flashed in his eyes.

“What is it ? What's wrong ?” she worried. Had something happened to George ? She reached over the table for the letter, Ron reluctantly handed it over. The words were scrawled in untidy handwriting,



Ginny,

Mum was attacked – her aggressor is unknown. She refused to go to St Mungo's, she's at home. She was hit with the Cruciatus curse in Diagon Alley. Dad's going crazy. He's alerted Kingsley. Don't leave Hogwarts ! It's the safest place. McGonagall was warned. We think we're being specifically targeted, she'll keep an eye on you and Ron. Don't let anyone else know – except Harry and Hermione. Be careful !

George.



Hermione couldn't believe it as her own eyes filled with tears and her lips trembled. Who would want to hurt Molly ? Who could hurt her ? She was the sweetest woman, someone who wouldn't hurt a fly, maybe to protect her children but otherwise, never. After the war, everyone had settled into a false sense of security. Of course, there were still Death Eaters out there. From one day to the next, the world didn't become a perfect place, without a trace of evil. But still. When it happened to a person with whom you were close, it hurt so much. It opened up wounds Hermione had thought healed. What was all the hard work for, what had every single thing they had done, had sacrificed worth if they couldn't even keep their families safe ? She was suddenly filled with such rage, the same she had only moments ago seen fill Harry. It was unforgivable, after all the Weasley's had been through, just as they were getting over Fred's premature death, they were once again targets. Hermione looked up at the Head Table, as if she could sense the girl's gaze, Minerva met her glance. A silent message passed between them, we'll keep them safe. It was their job.

As she made her way to her first class, Ancient Runes, the unthinkable happened. Hermione's sturdy book bag, that had been a faithful and loyal helper since her fourth year, broke ! All of her textbooks, copybooks, quills, ink, wand, you name it crashed to the floor. She let out a frustrated grown. “So, I can get through a war relatively unharmed but not to class without an accident ? “ she asked herself. Muttering about how she'd now be late, which was not the good example to set as Head Girl, she missed the fact that a certain blond was helping her pick up her stuff, until her hand brushed his and shock waves pulsated up and down her body, from head to toes. She shot daggers at the ferret.

“Malfoy ! What in the world do you think you're doing ?”

“Helping, Granger ?” he asked innocently.

“Why would you help me ?” she answered with indignation.

“Because no one else seems too. If it's such a big deal, I'll let you be.”

Hermione didn't know what to say to that. She cast a spell to repair her broken ink bottles, Malfoy having already fixed up her bag. Instead she stacked up her affairs and stuffed them inside. As she moved on, to her classroom, Hermione already knew she'd be late. Annoyed she turned back to face Malfoy, who'd been following her.

“Leave me alone !”

“I would, trust me. But I have Ancient Runes as well, so move it before Professor Babbling has a fit.” Malfoy looked down at her, with his famous sneer.

He annoyed her to such a point ! Bloody Merlin, she was seriously thinking of punching him in the face a second time, maybe after all those years he'd forgotten what a good fist she had.

She hurried to find room 6A. As she'd guessed, they were the last two. The girl apologized and quickly took a seat at the back, to not attract anymore attention after her tardiness.

As Professor Babbling babbled on and on about the importance of runes in the wizarding world, Hermione was painfully aware that not only had Malfoy chosen to sit next to her but also his leg brushed against hers. Was he conscious about their closeness ? It slowly drove her insane as the hour dragged on. She kept shifting herself further away but he kept angling himself, like a magnet, back to Hermione's knee. By the time class was wrapped up, the girl was almost pressed cheek to wall, helplessly trying to get away. As soon as they were dismissed she ran out the door and escaped to the Gryffindor Common Room. She had a spare hour and was not willing the risk of heading to the library. Over the years, she had noticed Malfoy also had a habit of working there, at the furthest table in the back, near the restricted section. Not that she cared...

By five o'clock, Hermione was wired on nerves, she couldn't hide from Malfoy anymore. They had both been summoned to Minerva's office for their first Head meeting. As she made her way down the third floor corridor and stopped in front of the Gargoyle, it brought back old memories of their sixth year and Harry's many trips to see the past Headmaster. Ron and she had always waited up, worried sick most of the time, trying to guess what was going on during those many hours Dumbledore and he had spent together. Harry always came back looking older, shaken but also enlightened. He shared all news with them but acted sometimes as if he wished to keep some information to himself. All of a sudden, she realized that she didn't have the password.

“Chocolate Frogs ?” she tried, but nothing happened.

“Toffee Eclair.”

“Dumbledore ?” guessing maybe Minerva would want to pay tribute.

“It's 'Pensieve', Granger.”

Hermione whipped around and stared at Malfoy walking with ease towards her, even though they were late – again ! At the sound of the password, the marble Gargoyle moved to reveal a winding staircase. The Heads made their way up and entered upon knocking.

“Ah, you made it.” a slightly annoyed Headmistress said.

Hermione bowed her head a fraction of an inch, “Excuse us.”

“Never mind, sit. We have lots to sort out.”

We executed her orders immediately. If we had learnt one thing since our first year, it was that you did not wait to be told twice by McGonagall. She was not one to be kept waiting.

“Here are some notes of the topics you will need to deal with with the Prefects.” she told them while passing over a short list.

“School dance ? Really ?” My head shot up at Malfoy's question.

“Give me that !” I reached for the piece of parchment, “Please.” I added for the sake of Minerva's quizzical brow. My eyes scanned over the paper and low and behold, there, item 12 out of 20, was written “Winter Fest Annual Dance.”

“Yes, as new Headmistress, I would like to start another Hogwarts tradition. The Yule ball that took place in your fourth year was a great success. Each December, the school will host a dance for students fifth year and up.”

“That's a fantastic idea !” exclaimed Hermione.

“That's rubbish.” mumbled Malfoy.

“No matter,” scolded Minerva, “You will need to attend with a date of your choice and to open the Fest, the Heads will share the first dance.”

If the elder woman didn't have their attention before, now they were all ears. Outraged ears, but ears none the less.

“I can't be seen with the mud- with her. It will ruin my reputation !”

“With all due respect mum, I have no wish to dance with Draco.”

“The feeling's mutual, Granger.”

“Enough !” erupted McGonagall, “You will, under the obligation of Heads, and for this school, dance one bloody dance together and proceed with your evening's as desired.”

When the two were dismissed, they made their way silently to their Common Room. Finally, Malfoy grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to look into her eyes.

“Listen Granger, I don't want this anymore than you do. But we'll have to suck it up alright ? We need to plan for this stupid ball, the dance is nothing but a minor detail. So, partners ?” He offered his hand.

Already Hermione didn't know what to say by his improvised speech, so she was even more stunned by his gesture of maybe not friendship but at least a truce. Uncertainly, she extended her own hand and shook. A bizarre tingle was felt by both, as if they now shared a connection. Hermione quickly turned around, a slight blush making its way up, and muttered, “Deluminator.”

Once Henry's portrait swung open, the girl rushed to her room without a second glance back. She missed Malfoy's “Goodnight.”