Chapter 1
I can do this. Count the steps Hermione. 1.. 2.. 3.. I count my steps, head down as I walk through the Hogwarts Express corridor to find a compartment. Free of people. Free of conversation. Free of sympathised looks I had become so tired of.
Trying my best not to panic or look around too much, I keep walking until I find one. Turning and locking the door, I place my bag next to me on the seat and hug my knees in, letting out a shaky breath. My 8th year back at Hogwarts. I feel sick with nerves. I'm not nervous about the classes, the exams, or the new challenges I face this year. No. I'm terrified of the expectations. I can hear the whispers already. 'The Golden Girl' back at Hogwarts, for the I guess, 'unofficial' 8th year, technically finishing our 7th. I feel like people expect so much of me. I feel so much pressure to please, yet so little desire to do so. I'd love nothing more than to be able to walk through those doors, confident as ever, head held high and embrace all the love, affection, and pride of my peers. But I can't. I feel too sad, too stressed, too anxious, and all at the same time too numb.
Since the war ended people have seemed to be able to carry on as normal. I know people still grieve but they do so in a way that is 'celebrating their life and sacrifice' and while I understand how that is a beautiful thing to do, I struggle with the concept. There was so much blood shed, witnessing so much pain and anguish, surviving one day to wonder if we will live the next, it has really taken a toll on me. Everyone else seems to be doing well though, which I am happy for, I guess. Harry and Ron have enrolled into their auror training, Ginny joining her Quidditch team to play professionally, Luna has joined her Father in writing The Quibbler, and while of course I am thrilled for them all, I do not have my closest people with me to tackle this year ahead. I do have Neville though, he is coming back in the hopes of one day becoming a herbology teacher. Other than him, I have no idea of any of the other '8th' year students coming back. I also don’t care in a selfish way, why should I care? All I want is to go in, learn what I need to, pass my exams and leave. It holds so many happy memories but they are always outweighed by the bad. Why can’t I find my peace? Why can’t I find my happiness? I hope finishing this year I will be able to find one of those things. I have to be hopeful.
I pull my oversized jumper sleeves down further over my all too bony hands, trying to create some warmth in them. I have lost a lot of weight since the war. I see a muggle and magical therapist, both say I struggle with a slight eating disorder, but I won't go as far to say that. They don't know what they're talking about. They don't understand. Surviving so long not knowing where or when the next meal was coming along whilst on the run looking for Horcruxes, and now going back into a normal daily routine, I struggle to get back into my old habit of eating 3 meals a day. I either forget, don't feel hungry, or just can't be bothered to drag myself out of bed to get something to eat.
Over the past summer I spent most of my days in bed. We were gifted a lot of money after the war from the Ministry of Magic for our acts of service, I bought myself a simple small flat, I was living at the burrow for some time, but that was before me and Ron split up. I had no home really. My home was gone, taken by the war along with so much more. My parents didn’t know I existed, but they were safe and I wouldn’t change it. I spent most days hauled up in the flat with Crookshanks, I would get visits from Harry and Ginny of course, they would drag me out of bed bring and eat some food with me then stick around for a few hours to watch some trashy TV then leave, it was always the same routine. I knew they were worried but I couldn’t be what they wanted me to be. I couldn’t pretend to be okay when I wasn’t there was no energy in me for it. On very rare occasions Ron would check in, sometimes I think just to make sure I was still alive. He’d come we’d speak about the weather or his family for an hour and then he’d go. The conversation never got too serious and I was glad for that, we were both trying to move past our break up him more so than me I think. Luckily it ended mutually, we both decided it wasn’t right and didn’t want to force it. I was too broken for him I think, a shell of the woman who he thought he loved, who I was before. But she was gone, and I am here in her place, I mourn the old me, but I do not miss her like I feel everyone else does, maybe she wasn’t ever the real me. I was who I had to be at that time, always ten steps ahead but only because I had to be to keep us alive. Not anymore, I don’t think I know who I am now. Maybe I will figure it out this year.
I was dragged from my thoughts when I heard some hushed angry whispers just past my compartment. I stilled and stare at the window in hopes that the mystery people would reveal themselves. I edge ever so slightly closer to the door to get little snippets of the conversation.
The first voice sounded exhausted and deep, hissing as he spoke. The sound of the train on the tracks was making it hard to hear the whole conversation.
"... I don't...she’s not interested in.. I say…drop it"
The other wizards voice, slightly higher, though by no definition high, and not as angry responds, still talking in hushed tones.
"please...try... love... anything you want…forgive you"
I was just about to get up to open the door just a crack in order to hear more of the conversation, until they both came into view of the window making me still once more, they were completely unaware I was watching them. I recognised the first wizard straight away, how couldn’t I. I’d know that platinum hair anywhere. It’s burned into my memory. The schoolyard bullying seemed so far in the past. We weren’t kids anymore, but I’d give anything to go back to that carefree version of myself. Ever since that day I spent on his drawing room floor, being tortured, bleeding, crying, pleading into his eyes, seeing the pain and anger reflected in them as I was tortured. I always wondered if there was soemthing he wanted to do, I could almost tell behind his misty grey orbits but I was yet to discover, it would keep me awake some nights thinking about what it was I thought he felt. Sure, I should probably hate him. But I don’t. My hand subconsciously comes up to cover the scar on my left forearm.
He was always a tall wizard, but I never noticed how well he really carried himself. He looked healthier, less tired and more muscular than when I last saw him at the trials. I was almost happy for him. Almost. There was a sharp feeling of jealousy, though very small, I still noticed and greeted it with a bitter sense of familiarity. I felt this same way about everyone that seemed to be doing ‘better’ than me following the war. I felt I was still stuck, standing still and unable to move on or move forward. Why was it so hard for me? What did I need to do?
Before I could stare at him too much longer, the other wizard brought his hand up to rustle through his thick dark locks distracting me from my never ending thoughts as he did so. My eyes followed from his hand, down his veiny arm to his bicep, that was very toned and tanned. I couldn’t see his face so was unsure as to who it might be.
Malfoy’s voice seemed to deepen now, he spoke still quiet, but firm and slow, drawing out every word. “Theodore” ah, the mystery man is revealed. “I am not doing it now and that’s the end of this conversation. Do you understand me?” Malfoy seemed to be staring into Nott’s eyes, not wavering one bit, and he spoke with no room for argument. I initially went to think that’s so classic of Malfoy, but this felt different.
Nott steadied himself where he stood, I initially think it was down to intimidation, yet there was a sense of complete obedience from him, he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to. He then held up his hands, surrendering to Malfoy’s final word.
“Okay, okay, but just know this isn’t the end of it. We will talk about this again. I just want what’s best for you Dray, you know that right?” as he said this Nott placed his hand on Malfoy's cheek moving his thumb over it in soothing motions. I felt instantly ashamed, like I had butted in on what seemed a private moment between two.. friends? Were they just friends? Seems an awfully intimate thing for two people who are just pals. Though admittedly I was completely behind on all the recent gossip having spent most of my summer away from everyone in the wizard if world.
As all these thoughts and questions were going through my head, I hadn’t realised I was still blatantly staring at their interaction. I felt my cheeks flush slightly as I notice Malfoy staring directly into my eyes, an unreadable expression on his features. Nott turned his head then to look at me, following his line of vision. As he did Malfoy stared a few seconds more, seemingly arguing with himself before turning and walking back down the corridor the way they had come up. Was it too late to rip my eyes away and pretend like I hadn’t just been trying to eavesdrop and be nosey? I think so. He huffed out an exasperated sigh and smiled almost apologetically toward me and nodded his head, before turning to follow after Malfoy.
I let out a breath then I hadn’t realised I was holding, and turned to look back out the window. What on earth did I just witness? What were they talking about? Who was the ‘she’ malfoy referred to? I wanted to know more. I needed to know more. I brought my knees back up to my chest and lay my head atop them pondering my thoughts for the remainder of the trip back to Hogwarts.