Behind Enemy Lines (Dramione)

Chapter 2: The Hogwarts Express

I took my place in the middle of the bench, with Harry to my right and curled up against the back rest. Ginny and Ron came in not far behind, arguing as usual and took the bench across from us. It wasn't long before the train kicked to life and pulled out of the station. I gave a subtle wave of my finger, wandlessly closing our compartment door. I have been working diligently since we went on the run to hone my wandless magic. It takes a lot of energy, but the more I practice, the easier it gets. I grabbed my current favourite muggle novel and got comfy in my spot again.

"Hey did you lot hear the news?" Ron asked looking over our blank faces "Malfoy is the new potions professor" He informed us, after gathering we had no clue what he was talking about. My heart dropped instantly. If I was tied for first in that class before, I would bet on the fact that I'll be last this year. How were we expected to be taught by a student? and one that none of us could stand nonetheless.

"How the bloody hell did that happen?" I slammed my book down on the bench beside me. Before anyone had a chance to answer there was a knock at the compartment door. A seemingly unsurprised Harry got up from beside me to see who it was.

"Yes?" He asked what appeared to be a first-year standing before him. "H-hi Harry, my name is Jordan Andrews, I-I'm here for Hermione Granger. Professor McGonagall wants to see her in the head compartment" He told Harry before scampering off.

Harry turned and motioned towards the door. Signalling to him that I heard, I got up from the seat I had settled into and made my way out of the compartment. We were a few train cars back, so it took more time than I'd have liked to get to the head compartment. I had my suspicions about what McGonagall could want. The eagerness to get there shot through my body and I pushed more forcefully through the gatherings of students in the corridor. When I came to the compartment I lightly tapped on the door and waited for someone to answer. To my surprise, it was Professor Slughorn that opened the door.

"Ah, Ms. Granger..." He said with a smirk, stepping out of the way to allow me to enter. Professor McGonagall motioned for me to take the seat in the armchair across from her as Slughorn closed the door.

"Ms. Granger, it should come as no surprise to you that you have indeed made head girl this year. I wanted to inform you before we arrived at the school, as I'm sure you know we'll need your assistance ushering the first years to the boats. Since the head boy won't be joining in this activity, I thought it best to prepare you as soon as possible. I'm sure you are also aware that you will no longer be in the Gryffindor dormitory, I will show you after the feast where your new home will be for the remainder of the school year" McGonnagals typical demure expression broke with the smallest hint of a smile and it occurred to me that perhaps she has been looking forward to this moment just as much as I had.

"Thank you, Headmistress. I am honoured to have the opportunity and I can ashore you, I won't disappoint you," I smiled warmly, eternally great full.

"You have made Hogwarts, and all of wizarding Britain for that matter, very proud, Ms. Granger." A sense of pride washed over me. It felt like hearing praise from a parent and nothing compared. I gave a small nod of thanks for the compliment and made to stand.

"Professor... I was wondering if you might tell me, who the head boy-" I started but was cut off by Professor Slughorn ushering me towards the door.

"That will be all Ms. Granger," He said and saw me into the corridor. I thought he was retired, what could he be doing back here? I thought as I walked back to my compartment. I was barely aware of my surroundings as I bumped into someone, sending me backward onto my arse. Godric, imma klutz. I looked up to see Draco Malfoy towering over me, much taller than I remembered him. As he looked down his signature smirk crept onto his face. It felt foreign to me, having always been on the receiving end of his signature sneer instead. Despite his expression, he was the same old prick.