A/N: Hey everyone! So once, again, I'm truly so sorry for leaving you all hanging for so long. I didn't actually realise how long it had been since I updated, and I'm not going to make excuses because let's face it, you've heard them all before and I keep letting you all down. But there's a lot going on irl.

On a happier note, I've been writing a backlog of chapters so I'm hoping to smash the rest of this story out asap. We're reaching the home stretch now! So just letting y'all know that if there's a long wait between this chapter and the next, it will be the very last time there's a long wait. I promise.

Okay, so onto this chapter. I'd like to dedicate it to Kaloge11. Thank you so much for your kind words!

This chapter's a bit of a roller-coaster, but it's one of my favourites. Strap yourselves in, everyone. And enjoy!

23

:. The Ceremony .:

On September 1st, Hermione found herself having to wake Harry and Ron from their slumber as usual; only this time, Ginny was there to help her. The redhead sat on the edge of Harry's bed, ran her fingers through his messy hair and spoke his name softly. When he did not stir, Ginny's voice became louder and more impatient, and when Hermione had no luck waking Ron either, Ginny sighed.

"Oh for goodness sake."

She grabbed a small firework from one of Fred and George's Basic Blaze Boxes which sat on a table at the foot of Harry's bed, and set it off. A small jet of yellow sparks whizzed upwards and ricocheted off the walls and ceiling of the room, all the while letting off a series of loud whizzes and pops. The boys sat bolt upright at once, expressions of utter alarm on their faces.

"Ah!" Ron cried as the firework popped in front of his face and disappeared, showering his nose with bright sparks. "Bloody hell, Ginny."

"What was that for?" Harry asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.

"If you two didn't sleep like trolls I wouldn't have had to do that," Ginny said matter-of-factly.

"Your breakfast is getting cold," Hermione added. "And if we don't leave soon we'll end up missing the train!"

Ron collapsed backwards so he was lying down again, throwing an arm over his face to shield his eyes from the light. "Why do we still have to take a long train ride when we can apparate there in two seconds?"

"Because you can't –"

"-apparate inside Hogwarts," Ron finished Hermione's sentence wearily. "I know."

Hermione and Ginny both rolled their eyes.

"Get ready quickly," Ginny said. "We're leaving in twenty minutes with or without you." She gave Harry's hand a squeeze before leaving the room, and Hermione followed her out.

It was a tense twenty minutes for her. She couldn't fathom the humiliation she'd face if she, as a new Head Prefect, missed the train, but despite oversleeping, Harry and Ron were ready just in time to set off to King's Cross Station. They arrived at Platform 9 ¾ with three minutes to spare, having sprinted from the car with their luggage trolleys.

"See," a red-faced Ron laughed weakly. "Told you we'd make it."

Hermione, also quite pink in the face, bristled and gave him a dangerous look. "It's not funny, Ron," she snapped. "I'm glad almost missing the train is so amusing to you."

"Hey lighten up," he replied. "We made it, didn't we?"

"Yes but we almost didn't make it because you and Harry couldn't get yourselves out of bed!" Hermione shot Harry a look as she said this, but she continued to bicker with Ron as they headed to one of the open doors of the train.

Once on board, Harry and Ginny slipped away, leaving Ron and Hermione to continue arguing in the corridor. Their discussion wasn't so heated now, but they were still talking loudly enough to disturb other students.

"Hey! Shut the hell up, would you?"

They looked around, and Hermione felt her heart leap when she saw Draco's head poking out of one of the compartments. He apparently hadn't realised who he was speaking to at first, for his eyes widened and he suddenly looked uncomfortable when he saw them. "Oh, it's you."

"Er, yes," Hermione forced a smile; the tension in the air was palpable. "Hi." She felt her cheeks grow warm as she recalled their last meeting.

Draco's expression softened, and his mouth opened as if he was going to say something to her, but he almost immediately closed it again and shook his head before finally saying, "Just keep the noise down." And with that he stepped back into the compartment and slammed the door.

"Well, he's in a good mood," Ron said drily.

"Mmm," she mumbled, frowning at the spot where Draco's head had been. "Come on," she said. "Let's go to the Prefect's carriage."

They walked towards the front of the train, where Hannah and Terry were briefing the new fifth year Prefects.

"Oh hi, you two!" Terry smiled. "We were wondering where you were."

"Sorry," Hermione said, shooting another look at Ron. "We left late."

"You're not going to let that go, are you?" Ron muttered. Hermione didn't hear him, though; she was regarding the new Prefects with a frown. They were all sitting on the cushioned benches, though there was a noticeable gap between six of them, and the two Slytherins, who sat opposite each other beside the window. They were shuffling uncomfortably and fiddling with their wands, looking outside while the rest of the fifth years chatted amongst themselves at the pause of Terry and Hannah's speech.

Hermione couldn't believe her eyes. Had the bad treatment of Slytherin house been this obvious last year? Is this the kind of thing Draco had to deal with daily?

"Mione?" Ron's voice pulled from her thoughts.

"Right. Sorry," Hermione said. She turned to Hannah and Terry. "We'll leave you to it and start our patrol."

"Hermione," Hannah called after her as Ron opened the door for them. "You haven't seen Malfoy around, have you? He hasn't checked in with us yet."

Hermione frowned. "Has he not? He's still in his compartment."

"Dammit Malfoy." Terry sighed. "If you see him again, tell him to come and see us."

Hermione nodded, and followed Ron out into the corridor, where they proceeded back towards Draco's compartment in silence. Hermione didn't notice the somewhat tense atmosphere between them, however, as a strong sense of apprehension had overcome her. Why had Draco been acting so cold towards her before?

She was so lost in thought that she almost walked completely past his compartment, causing Ron to grab her by the shoulders and wheel her around. "Hey," he said. "What's got you away with the fairies?"

"Oh… just tired," Hermione said, quickly yawning to support her lie. "Unlike some people, I was awake early."

Ron groaned loudly, meanwhile Hermione peered into Draco's compartment. He was accompanied by only Blaise, Theo and Tracey, and Hermione couldn't help but wonder why Daphne and Pansy weren't there; there was plenty of room after all, since Millicent, Crabbe and Goyle had withdrawn from school last year.

She tapped on the glass and slid the door open. The conversation inside suddenly stopped, and all the Slytherins turned to stare at her. Blaise meanwhile, was staring at Draco as if looking for some sort of reaction. Hermione felt her cheeks flush. How much did Blaise actually know?

"Draco?"

The blond looked up, his stomach giving an unpleasant lurch when he saw Ron standing behind Hermione. He set his jaw as a renewed sense of anger and hurt bubbled in his stomach.

"Hannah and Terry are looking for you," Hermione said, trying to ignore the cold look on Draco's face. "You need to check in with them before patrols."

Draco grunted. "Right." He pocketed the packet of Pepper Imps he'd been eating and reluctantly followed her out of the compartment.

"Since when does she call him Draco?" he heard Theo whisper as he closed the door. Then he was alone with Hermione and Ron in the corridor. The tension in the air was palpable, and Draco wanted nothing more than to run back inside the compartment.

"So," Hermione said, unable to bear the awkward silence. "We should probably start our patrol now, Ron."

"Yeah," he said. "I'll er – I'll wait up ahead." He scurried away, not wanting to miss this chance to escape.

"He's really warmed to the idea of us being friends, hasn't he?" Draco said drily as he watched Ron head down the train.

"What?" Hermione frowned.

"I'm just saying, your plan for us to not talk during this past week hasn't really worked, has it?" There was a definite edge to Draco's voice, and his gaze was cold.

"Draco -" Hermione began wearily.

"What, Hermione?" A flash of hurt swam through Draco's eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again but stopped himself, realising they were still standing in full view of the other seventh year Slytherins. He took Hermione's arm and led her down the carriage in the opposite direction Ron went, not even daring to glance back over his shoulder. "What has really been achieved by asking me not to write again this past week?" he asked in a low voice.

Hermione brushed Draco's hand off her arm. "Harry and Ron just need time to –"

"So if they need more time to get used to me I suppose that means we should carry on not speaking."

"No!" Hermione looked hurt now. She didn't want to fight and go backwards after she and Draco had such a lovely time together at The Leaky Cauldron. "No, I don't want to not speak to you."

"Well you can't have it both ways, Hermione," Draco said sharply. "Just let me know if you plan on taking Weasley's side again so I don't waste my time."

"What do you mean? I've been doing everything I can to not take sides."

Draco scoffed. "That's a laugh. Seems to me that I'm always the one sacrificing something instead of Weasley." He paused and took a breath to calm himself. "Was it seriously too much to ask for you to ask him to deal with us writing to each other?"

His voice wavered, making a pang of guilt run through Hermione. Still, she didn't find it very fair for him to be criticising her like this. "You don't understand how hard it is for me to balance this!" she said, exasperated.

"Oh, I understand." Draco's eyes flashed. "I understand that while you may act like you're a sympathiser to everyone, you don't actually give a damn."

"What?!"

"You just do whatever's easiest for you, Hermione; you just want to avoid a big confrontation with your precious Weasley. If you actually care about me like you said, you wouldn't have cut me out like that." Tears were prickling Draco's eyes and his voice was becoming shaky, but he refused to cry in front of her. "You know how isolated I've been.

Hermione gaped at him, feeling angry, hurt and guilty all at once. "I thought you would have been in contact with the others this last week," she said quietly.

Draco grunted. "Yeah, well, you thought wrong. Pansy still isn't talking to me and Blaise has been too wrapped up in his own woman problems to care what's going on with anyone else."

"And you think that's my fault?" Hermione said.

"Well, Pansy is only pissed off with me because I'm friends with you and Mack, in case you'd forgotten," Draco shot back. "Not only that – I stuck up for you, and she and I may not be as close as you and Weasley, but I always considered her to be one of my best friends at that wretched school. I put that on the line for you, Granger, and quite frankly I think it's bullshit that you haven't given me the same courtesy."

Hermione's shoulders slumped as the anger subside within her. "I did tell Ron that we're friends," she said. "And he accepts that I'm not going to just stop talking to you for his sake. I just didn't want to flaunt it in front of him while I was staying at his house."

Draco met her gaze with sad eyes. "Funny, because that sounds exactly like you stopped talking to me for his sake."

"Draco. Please don't –"

"I don't want to hear it, Hermione. It's all good telling me this, but your actions say otherwise." His shoulders slumped, and he spoke in a resigned, almost sad voice. "Maybe this is too strange. Maybe we don't have any reason to associate with each other now that the competition is over…"

Hermione just gazed at him in stunned silence, and realised her mistake of not responding too late.

"Well, it was good while it lasted, Granger," Draco said solemnly.

"No!" Hermione cried. But it was too late. Draco gave her one final heart-breaking glance, and walked away.

He headed in the opposite direction to where his compartment was, not wanting to face his friends after this, and groaned when Pansy suddenly strode out of one of the compartments in front of him, and stood blocking his way, her arms crossed and her hip cocked out to one side.

"Finally come to your senses, have you?" She smirked.

Draco rolled his eyes, in no way surprised to learn that she'd been eavesdropping. "Piss off, Parkinson," he said, barging past her.

"Hey! Wait!" She called after him, but he didn't look back.

Hermione didn't have a lot of chance to brood over her conversation with Draco. She made sure of that by busying herself with her Prefect patrols, eating lunch and drawing up revision timetables for a very disgruntled Ron and Harry.

"Oh, come off it, Hermione," Ron groaned as she passed him his timetable, which was completely full with her minute writing. "We haven't even technically started back yet!"

"The sooner we start revising for our NEWTs, the better," she said primly. "There's no such thing as being too prepared."

"Yeah, but this is a bit much, don't you think?" Harry said as he scrutinised his own timetable. His head ached just looking at it.

"Oh, rubbish," Hermione said dismissively.

Ginny sniggered as the boys exchanged exasperated glances, and Hermione looked up at her. "Do you want me to draw you up a timetable too, Ginny?" she asked brightly.

Ginny's smile was instantly replaced by an expression or pure horror. "No!" she said hurriedly. "I mean, there's really no need. I don't have any big exams this year."

Hermione waved a hand and began rummaging in her bag for another piece of parchment. "Yes, but it won't do you any harm to get a head start." And with that, she bent her head and began scribbling hastily, meanwhile Ginny could only gape at her, looking panicked.

"Not so funny now, is it?" Ron whispered triumphantly.

"Be quiet," she hissed. "And you can shut up too," she said to Harry, who had descended into silent laughter.

Hermione then looked up, tapping the end of her quill against her chin in thought. "Which subjects are you taking for your NEWTs, again?" she asked.

"I dunno yet," Ginny said at once, jumping at the chance to get herself out of the situation. "I'm not sure if all my grades are good enough for the subjects I want to do. Guess the revision will just have to wait 'til I get my timetable."

Hermione pursed her lips as she regarded the blank timetable in her hands and sighed, passing it over to Ginny. "I suppose you're right," she said. "But make sure you fill that out once you know which classes you're taking."

"I will," Ginny said quickly, getting up and stuffing the timetable in her trunk (Harry and Ron exchanged looks; they both had a sneaking suspicion that Ginny's timetable would never see the light of day again). Then, wanting to change the subject, she glanced at the darkness descending out the window and grabbed her uniform from her trunk. "It's getting dark. We'll probably be getting to school soon." And with that, she scarpered out of the compartment.

Ron's stomach gave an almighty grumble moments after this, and he rubbed it absent-mindedly. "Bloody hell, I hope she's right. I'm starving." He then craned his neck, and seeing nothing but his own reflection in the dark window, breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I think she is. Wicked." And then, his revision timetable forgotten, he began rummaging in his own trunk for his uniform, and left to change soon after, leaving Harry and Hermione alone in the compartment.

She was now frantically working on her own timetable, apparently trying to get it finished before she absolutely had to get dressed. Harry watched her, frowning.

"Thought you already have one of those," he said.

Hermione stopped, and blinked herself out of her stupor. "Oh," she said, blushing slightly. "Yes, I do. Guess I'm just stressing out so much I can't think straight." She put her quill down and stared at the parchment, biting her lip as she did so.

"About our NEWTs?"

Hermione nodded.

"Just about our NEWTs?"

Hermione looked at Harry, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"There's something else bothering you," Harry said matter-of-factly. "I know you always stress out about school stuff, but you're never this obsessed so early in the year." He indicated towards his packed timetable.

Hermione bristled. "I am not obse –"

"Is it Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"Harry." Hermione groaned.

"Is it Malfoy?" he repeated firmly. "Look Hermione, if he's done something, I don't want you defending him just because –"

"I'm not defending him. We just had a row earlier, that's all."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing!" Hermione said. Then she took a breath. "If anything it was me in the wrong."

"You?" Harry's expression was doubtful. "That seems unlikely."

"Well it's true," Hermione said. "And don't you accuse me of lying to defend him again."

"But –"

"Harry, I'm fine. It's not like me and Draco fighting is anything new."

"I'm just worried about you," Harry said quietly.

"I know," Hermione replied. "But can you please try not to keep jumping to the worst conclusions about him all the time? It's exhausting being caught between him and you and Ron." Tears were prickling her eyes, and she hurriedly turned away from Harry to search for her uniform in her trunk.

"Hermione –"

But it was no use. Hermione swept out of the compartment before he could say anything more.

Harry slumped back in his seat, raking his hands down his face, and groaned.

Draco took his time getting off the train when it pulled up in Hogsmeade Station. He lingered in the corridor, shuffling his feet agitatedly as he stared determinedly at the floor, not wanting to make eye-contact with anyone. After spending the summer in the remote comfort of the other Slytherins and Hermione, he'd built up a false sense of security that things would remain bearable once term started again, but alas, the whispers and staring had started almost as soon as he'd set foot onto Platform 9 ¾, and now he had half a mind to hide on the train and ride it back to London.

He turned into the nearest empty compartment to do just that, but stopped as he made to close the door behind him. Yes, every fibre in his being had been screaming at him for days not to go back to school, that all the torment and isolation wasn't worth any number of NEWTs. But despite all that, despite his (and his mother's) better judgement, something had still compelled him to board the train at King's Cross. And that same something was stopping him from closing that compartment door now.

He knew that, in a way, the Manor would be equally as isolating as school, and that at least he had some friends at Hogwarts… But there was something more to it, and Draco refused to admit that it was because of – he gulped – her.

He was still extremely hurt and angry by what Hermione had done, but he knew deep down that he'd rather be at school with her, hating life, than literally closing the door on whatever the hell was going on between them. And so, with a steeling breath, Draco stepped out of the compartment, down the corridor, and onto the platform.

Apprehensive-looking first-years were weaving amongst the crowds towards where Hagrid was calling them, meanwhile everyone else was bee-lining for the carriages. Draco was thankful for the distraction this caused, and sloped leisurely amongst the stream of students, basking in the feeling of anonymity.

Three people then barged past him, two of them in fast pursuit of the first.

"Sorry, Draco," the third called back.

It was Tracey Davis. She and Theo were dashing after Blaise, who'd sprung into a run when he saw Daphne and Pansy boarding a carriage up ahead.

"Hey!" he yelled, barging people out of the way. "Wait for me – I mean us!"

The girls looked around, thoroughly bemused. "Whoa, where's the Fiendfyre, Zabini?" Pansy giggled.

The carriage began to pull away, and Blaise, ignoring all common sense, began jogging after it.

"What the hell are you doing?" Daphne looked like she wanted to laugh, but was doing everything she could to appear indifferent.

"I just – where've you been, Daph?" Blaise panted, meeting Daphne's gaze. "Didn't see you on the train… thought you weren't coming back."

Pansy squeaked indignantly ("What am I, invisible?"), but neither of them responded.

Daphne's stony exterior faltered at Blaise's words, and her lips flickered. But she quickly re-composed herself, and cleared her throat. "Well, here I am," she said in a forcibly dis-interested tone.

"Were you avoiding me?" Blaise's breathing was becoming heavier, and he slowed to a stop.

"What do you care?" Daphne called back as the carriage pulled further away.

"I –" Blaise took a deep breath. "Life at Hogwarts just wouldn't be the same without you, Daph!" he called. "You make being at that god-awful place worthwhile."

Students in passing carriages snickered at him as they passed, but Blaise kept his eyes on Daphne. And it could have been a trick of the light, but he could swear (or at least hoped) that he saw a smile stretch across her face as her figure disappeared in the distance. And Blaise was filled with a surge of elation. He'd never put his pride on the line like that before, and was amazed that it had paid off.

Damn, he thought. It turned out Malfoy was right, after all.

He was still staring at the horizon when another carriage pulled up to him, and stopped.

"Get in, you idiot."

It was Tracey, Theo and Draco. They were all grinning at him smugly.

"I can't believe you ran after her, mate," Theo laughed.

"You seemed pretty desperate," Tracey said.

"Shut up," Blaise said, climbing onto the carriage. The teasing did little to damper his mood, however.

"Don't say I told you so," he muttered to Draco as the carriage moved again.

"But I did tell you so." Draco smirked. "I said you had to be honest with her, and I was right, as usual. I have to say, I didn't think you had it in you, Zabini; especially when you were trying to write poetry." He did his best not to snort with laughter.

"Shut up!" Blaise hissed.

"Why did you stop that, anyway?" Draco asked curiously.

"…I couldn't find anything to rhyme with 'boobs'," Blaise said.

And with that, Draco couldn't hold himself back any longer, and he spluttered with laughter.

Shouts and laughter echoed around the Great Hall as students poured in, all greeting friends and chatting excitedly about the holidays. The competition candidates were amongst the rabble, and cast smiles and nods in each other's direction: Ernie Macmillan caught sight of Hermione, Harry and Ron, and gave them a thumbs-up, his Head Prefect's badge flashing in the candlelight as he was swept away in the tide of the crowd. They all noticed that Justin didn't appear to be there, but no-one decided to bring it up.

"Feels kind of strange with everyone being back, doesn't it?" Hermione said as they, along with Ginny, took seats at the Gryffindor table. "With the castle being so empty over summer."

Ron just grunted incoherently in response. He didn't appear to have heard what Hermione had said; he was staring at the Entrance Hall doors, scowling. "I hope they get the Sorting started soon, I'm so hungry I could eat a Hippogriff."

Luckily for Ron (but mostly the others, who'd had to listen to him moan about his hunger), the Sorting was over relatively quickly. Applause rang out as it always did as every student was assigned their House, but the Hall fell near silent whenever anyone was sorted into Slytherin, and Hermione made a point to clap extra hard whenever this happened. She stole glances at the Slytherin table throughout the Sorting and the feast, hoping to catch Draco's eye. It wasn't difficult to spot him since the Slytherin table was only about half as full as the others, but he hadn't appeared to have looked up from his plate yet. And as time went on, Hermione couldn't help but wonder if he was purposefully ignoring her.

"Whassamatter, 'Ermione?" Ron said through a mouthful of ice cream. His mood had improved considerably since he'd got some food in his belly; he was too happy eating to notice that she kept looking at the Slytherins.

Hermione shook herself from her stupor. "Nothing," she said. "Just not that hungry, is all."

"Can I 'ave 'ur Cauld'n 'akes?" Ron asked, eying Hermione's half-eaten dessert.

"Just take some from the platter," Hermione said indignantly. "There's plenty there. Plenty that I haven't bitten into."

"Ye, but, shouldn' go t' waste," Ron said, stabbing one of the cakes with his fork.

"Oh, fine then," Hermione said, pushing her place towards him. "If you must."

"Cheers." Ron swallowed the last of ice cream and immediately began digging in to the Cauldron Cakes like he hadn't eaten in a month. Hermione and Ginny wrinkled their noses at the sight.

"Wha'?" Ron asked.

"Must you always eat like a pig?" Ginny said.

"M'ungry," Ron replied.

"So you've told us." Ginny rolled her eyes. "About a thousand times."

"Oi!"

As she and Ron started to bicker, Hermione's gaze wandered over to the Slytherin table again. Draco was talking to Blaise about something, and whatever it was, it seemed to be bringing Draco a lot of joy; she could practically see his smirk from the other side of the Hall. Then he started laughing, and Hermione felt her stomach swoop. Something about his laugh, about the way his eyes crinkled when he did, made him look so different. Younger, almost, and… happy. Unbeknownst to Hermione, her own lips stretched into a smile at the sight, and she lost track of her thoughts and where she was for a second.

"Hermione?"

Harry's voice re-captured her attention, and as she turned to face him, and her brows furrowed almost immediately. He was looking at her so strangely, like he was only just seeing her for the first time. "What?" she hissed.

"I –" Harry paused, and shook his head. "Nothing."

Hermione made to press him on why he was suddenly acting so odd, but the plates vanished, and Dumbledore's voice echoed throughout the Hall before she could get a word out.

"Welcome, one and all, to another wonderful year at Hogwarts."

The chatter died down at once, and everyone turned to face the Headmaster. He was standing behind the lectern, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles as he regarded the sea of faces before him.

"I do hope our wonderful feast has not befuddled you too much, for I have some start-of-term notices to announce. Firstly, as always, the Forbidden Forest is strictly out of bounds to all students. Secondly, Mr Filch would like me to re-iterate that all Zonko's and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products –" Dumbledore glanced over to the Gryffindor table at this, and Ron, Ginny and Harry smirked. "– are strictly banned. And regarding House Quidditch teams –"

"Yeah," Ron murmured, grinning. "Not like I haven't got a whole stash of Skiving Snackboxes in my trunk or anything."

"Ron!" Hermione hissed. "You are a Prefect!"

"– can talk to your respective House Captain for details on try-outs. Finally, and most importantly, I'm delighted to introduce you to your new Head Boy and Girl: Mr Terry Boot and Miss Hannah Abbott!"

The sound of applause and cheers flooded the Hall, and necks craned as students tried to get a glimpse of the Heads. Hannah blushed and shrank down in her seat, waving meekly to everyone. Terry on the other hand, though initially taken aback at being called out, beamed broadly.

"Strange; they don't usually name the Heads, do they?" Ginny said as she clapped.

"Come on up to the front," Dumbledore went on cheerily, beckoning them towards him. "Don't be shy, now."

"They definitely haven't done that before," Harry said. He looked perplexed, but his expression was nothing compared to Hannah and Terry's.

They glanced at each other across the tables, and simultaneously rose from their seats and headed uncertainly towards the front of the Hall. A rumble of conversation filled the room as they did so: many students lamented that they wanted to go to bed; others were simply confused.

"Now then –" Silence fell when Dumbledore spoke again. Hannah and Terry stood directly in front of him on the next step down, leaving the Headmaster oblivious to their embarrassment. "I'm sure you're all wondering what this prolonged introduction is in aid of. Well, allow me to explain."

"Here we go," Ron said, supporting his head on his left hand. "Hope he keeps it short."

Despite his reservations, Dumbledore was quite brief in his explanation of the trial Heads' selection competition; how the aim of it was to form stronger bonds between the Houses following Voldemort's downfall, and that ultimately, (it still sent a pang of annoyance through Hermione to hear) Hannah and Terry were picked as the best people for the job.

And everyone thought that was the end of it. Some were so hopeful of the fact that they'd started to rise from their seats in anticipation of retiring to their respective Common Rooms and beds, but Dumbledore crushed these hopes with the use of a single word.

"However," he continued, "the other Professors and I soon realised that if we were to truly promote inter-House unity, then logically, we ought to have a representative from all Houses. It is therefore my great pleasure to announce that Hogwarts will have four Head Prefects this year – one from each House – to assist the Head Boy and Girl with their tasks, and act as liaisons for younger students."

A murmur of interest swept throughout the Hall at this, and Dumbledore waited for this to die down before continuing. "The four students we have selected to take on these new roles also took part in the competition over summer, and moreover, thoroughly impressed us with their inter-House co-operation and maturity during the process. And I would like to take this opportunity to introduce them all to you now."

Hermione's cheeks reddened at these words, just from the anticipation of everyone staring at her as they did moments earlier to Hannah and Terry. And Dumbledore certainly didn't help her racing heart with his next words.

"It will be most beneficial for you all to be familiar with their faces, so Head Prefects, if you would be so kind as to join Miss Abbott and Mr Boot at the front when your name is called out, that would be most appreciated."

"What?" Hermione squeaked, her heart jumping to her throat and her eyes widening with panic. She couldn't go up there, not with the whole school watching.

"You alright, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"I'm fine!" she replied in an unnaturally high voice.

The Hall erupted with applause and cheers as each Head Prefect was called. Padma was first, and swept up to the front and stood beside Terry, looking as calm and collected as ever. She was quickly followed by a pink-faced Ernie, who grinned broadly as he took his place beside Padma, and puffed his chest out self-importantly.

Hermione was amazed with how confident they appeared. Was she just being unnecessarily nervous? She didn't have much time to think about it, for her name was called next, and suddenly her thoughts were drowned out by the great roar of the Gryffindors. She felt her cheeks grow hot, and smiled weakly at those nearest to her before making her way towards the front. Her legs were wobbling so much that she feared they'd give way, but she made it, and stood on the other end of the step beside Hannah.

Then it was Slytherin's turn, and suddenly Hermione felt nervous for an entirely different reason. Draco's white-blond head stuck out easily from her new vantage point, and Hermione watched him, biting her lip apprehensively. He seemed to be, if possible, paler than usual, and he was staring hard at the table. Clearly, he wasn't too pleased with this public announcement either, though Hermione understood why.

"And finally, Slytherin's Head Prefect," Dumbledore said cheerily, seemingly oblivious to the tension that had fallen over the room. "is Mr Draco Malfoy."

He led the applause, and was followed at once by the other teachers (including Hagrid) and the Heads. It was a different story, however, for the rest of the students. There were some who clapped politely, (Hermione was pleased to see that this included Harry and more surprisingly, Ron) but the large majority of students put their hands together once or twice and then crossed their arms, looks of deep distaste or bewilderment on their faces as they watched Draco rise reluctantly from his seat. Even most of the Slytherins seemed embarrassed to clap for their own Head Prefect.

"Malfoy?" Someone hissed. "You've got to be joking!"

"Him – mature and co-operative with other Houses?!"

"It's not exactly a secret that he hates Muggleborns…"

"His dad worked for You-Know-Who!"

Despite their argument earlier, anger bubbled in Hermione's stomach at the comments being made, and she scowled in the direction of the offenders. She recalled how ostracized she'd felt in Draco's body during the Polyjuice task, and she hated seeing him endure it now. He sloped towards her, head bent low, and Hermione couldn't stand the thought that she'd been so ignorant to his position last year. More to the point, she hadn't cared either.

Draco didn't look at her when he reached the front; just took his place beside her and continued to stare at his feet. Hermione was looking at him, though. She could see the tortured look in his eyes, the tension in his jaw, and the slouch of his back that made him look so uncharacteristically defeated and passive. Her heart lurched painfully at the sight; she had the urge to reach out and comfort him, but something was stopping her. Hermione kicked herself for resisting; her inactions were part of the reason Draco was so angry at her.

'I stuck up for you… I always considered Pansy to be one of my best friends… I put that on the line for you, Granger, and quite frankly I think it's bullshit that you haven't given me the same courtesy…'

Hermione hadn't understood what exactly he wanted from her when he said that, but now it was crystal clear. What kind of friend would she be if she didn't stick up for him just as he'd done for her?

I'd be no better than the rest of them, Hermione thought. And with her heart racing - before she could change her mind - she reached out, and took his hand.

Gasps echoed all around the Hall. The whole school's eyes were on her again, but it wasn't that that terrified Hermione this time. Draco was looking at her, half-stunned, half-curious. Then he shifted, and for a split-second Hermione thought he was going to push her away, but instead he turned his hand so their fingers interlocked. A tingling warmth flooded Hermione's body at this, and she held on tighter, giving Draco a small encouraging smile.

"What?!"

"Hermione and Malfoy?"

"Has she gone mad? Or been Imperiused?"

"Awww."

The muttering had started up again, and on Hermione's left, the rest of the Heads were gaping at them. Ernie and Padma recovered first; they both smiled at Hermione and Draco, then each other, and clasped hands too. Then, something bizarre happened: none of them spoke, but gradually they all began to link hands. First Padma and Terry, then he and Hannah, and finally she and Hermione, until the whole line of Heads were standing, united, in front of the school.

Hermione felt her eyes welling up, and she glanced around to see Hagrid wiping his own eyes with the tablecloth, and McGonagall and Dumbledore beaming at them all.

"Time will only tell if our little experiment over summer has been a success," the Headmaster said. "But I have very good feelings. Your Head Prefects, everyone!" For a second there was silence, but then came an eruption of applause and cheers. Some students still looked doubtful, but a lot of those who'd jeered earlier were joining in.

"Now then," Dumbledore said when the noise had died down. "I feel that I've kept you all for far too long, so I will bid you goodnight, and wish you all a pleasant first day of term tomorrow. Pip pip."

Noise filled the Hall once more as everyone rose out of their seats and stampeded towards the doors, but Dumbledore stopped the Heads as they made to leave too.

"That was a most moving gesture," he said, smiling at them all.

"It really were," Hagrid sniffed.

"But I'm afraid there's little time to bask in the moment right now," Dumbledore continued. "You're all needed to provide your Houses with direction and passwords for your respective Common Rooms. That is, if they haven't all already left without you." He chuckled.

"Yes, sir," the Heads chorused.

"And one more thing: all of you are most welcome to continue using the west wing dormitories as a base for meetings and such. However, I highly advise the Head Prefects to continue using your regular dormitories for sleeping to start with, given that you'll be needed should first-years need help settling in."

They all nodded, and headed out. The Entrance Hall was jam-packed as students tried to mill around each other to get to their Common Rooms. There was barely enough room to breathe let alone walk, and Hermione began squeezing herself through the crowd. "Excuse me – sorry – sorry – 'scuse me – Gryffindors this way!"

"Granger!"

Someone caught her by the arm, and she whirled around.

"Draco!"

"I –" His grey eyes were wide, almost as if he was still in shock. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he couldn't find the words. In the end, he just settled for, "Thanks."

Hermione blushed. "Y-you're welcome." She glanced over her shoulder at the Gryffindors climbing the stairs, and then back at Draco. "I'm sorry," she said. "I need to go."

"Yeah, suppose I ought to too," he replied.

They regarded each other steadily for a lingering moment, then went their separate ways. Hermione headed up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower and Draco down the ones to the dungeons; both were extremely apprehensive of what their friends were going to say.

To be continued…

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, and for continuing to stick with me. Big love to you all :)

Like I said I've been writing a back-log of chapters, so rest assured it won't be an eternity before I update again. Until next time!