avisoppugno

They had run into each other exactly four times since their break-up, and neither Hermione nor Ron were getting any more comfortable with inevitable situation. This time was the fifth. Having been in the lift first, Ron fell back towards the corner of the lift and stood straight and stiff, eyes fixated on the cauldron-shaped stain on the floor; Hermione's chin was higher than usual, and she tried her best to look at ease, although she did not pull it off well. Another passenger on the lift, a small wizard who Hermione did not recognize, sniffed through his nose as though he may have a cold, but Hermione imagined he was sniffing out the story between Famous Potter's two best mates. Not a word was shared in the lift, and it felt entirely unnatural for both Gryffindors, but neither were willing to break the silence. Each was innocent, the other was guilty, and both would find a way to win Harry over to their side and become his One True Friend. Hermione was brighter than Ron, that was sure, and so she would triumph this battle.

These were the rounds she had dreaded. Finding out that one Draco Malfoy would remain a prefect was bad enough, but for the two to actually be scheduled together made Hermione's lips tighten and go thin. As if the rounds hadn't been bad enough three years ago, when they were fifth years, but now? Hermione sighed deeply and waited in the Entrance Hall and watched as the students left the Great Hall, filled with dinner. Harry and Ron walked by. Ron looked straight forward, as if Hermione wasn't there. Harry gave an apologetic smile and a little wave. Nothing had gone right since she'd come back to England, and rounds with Draco Malfoy was the crown jewel.

The platform looked completely different. Granted, she hadn't been there since her sixth year, but it still felt both awkwardly familiar and strange. She noticed first years with their parents nervously observing the steam engine; old friends embracing one another. That made her gut twist and with a deep breath, Hermione pulled her Australian-sun tanned shoulders back and straightened up. A few months wasn't too long. Not as though she'd been gone for years. Even if it had felt like it.

She could have looked for that jet black hair, which would probably be accompanied by pointing and staring from those around it, but instead she scanned the crowed for a tall head of red. Hermione wanted to find that more than anything. Hermione was wearing an uncharacteristic sun dress and cardigan that she kept smoothing down as she looked for the familiar hair, both worried about how she looked and to keep her hands dry.

Where were they? Had they decided not to come back for another year? She should have written first and told them she'd meet them at the platform. Hermione bit her lip and kept looking around, trying to find one of the three people she'd missed the most.