Never Say Never (Tomione AU)

- '' Never Say Never '' -

As the scarlet train sets of from platform nine and three quarters, swirls of steam rises from the chimney. Numerous children crowd around the windows waving their arms wildly, laughing, cheering.

Hermione Granger is not one of them. Instead, she sits silently in an empty compartment, on a forlorn bench concealed in red scarlet. Her rather small, black suitcase lies neatly stowed away above her head, moved into place with a flick of her wand.

Solemnly, she rests there, reading an old leather book she had scoured the ancient bookstores at Diagon Alley for. Magic spells and incantations are its secret, many long forgotten.

Not that it bothers Hermione Granger. Occasionally, she flicks a page over, dust flooding from the book into the compartment. And so she sits, in a deep trance as she absorbs every bit of information the grubby pages had to offer.

It had been costly, but it had been worth it, Hermione Granger decides. A book was a better companion, a better friend, a better comfort than any child could ever wish to be. Her foolish parents had been persuaded with a snap of her poised fingers. They pampered her, spoiled her, and Hermione knew why.

She was no fool, she had decided very early on in life. She would not deny truths, or cling to impossible scenarios. No, Hermione Granger would be smart, and that would be needed. Her childhood had taught her one thing, one thing, that she would never let go.

The world was hers to conquer, and anyone, anyone in her path would pay.

Since then, many of her former objectives, or missions as she preferred, had changed. Not this one. They had not been a usual child's, and her parents had been ever oblivious to that.

And yet, their obnoxious behavior could not unsee the past.

Hermione remembers the day very clearly when she first levitated something. Her mother's complexion had been ashy, a pasty white, and she'd been sweating, quaking in fear. Her father had dropped the newspaper with absolute shock, eyes widening in an unsaid fright, and then they had fled the room.

Hermione Granger had absolutely no illusions. Her parents were afraid of her.

Though, she had to admit the advantages. The pampering, the ability to have everything at her fingertips and very command had shaped a girl who cared very little. It had brought forward a girl who knew that the world was hers to conquer, not anyone else's, but hers. Nevertheless, she had been robbed of a loving childhood, any hope of true happiness.

Yet does it bother Hermione? Not one bit.

A weak knock on the thin glass of the compartment door tears Hermione from her thoughts. A young boy saunters arrogantly into the compartment, with neat platinum hair and dark, grey eyes. He wears a deep midnight black uniform, as they all do, and his mouth is quirked downwards, permanent annoyance painted on his face, in form of a sneer. His face radiates pure irritation, and his cold eyes look down on her, as if he was better than her. Pulling his hand through his slick mop of platinum, he drawls at her. "Can I sit here?"

His voice is brimming with vexation, and he doesn't wait for an answer.

Casually, he positions himself opposite Hermione. There is a certain arrogance in everything he does. It makes her blood boil, to see something so brainless act like everything belongs to him. It was hers, only hers.

The world is hers to conquer.

In a tone that would do any ice queen proud, Hermione replies, her voice an abyss of intense frost. "You never even listened for an answer."

The boy winks at her, his face morphing into a lazy smirk. "Would it matter what you said? I doubt it would." He declared, with an air of exasperation.