Slow Grenade

Chapter One - Year One

Clutching the ticket in her hand, Hermione Granger glanced up and down the long carriage of the Hogwarts Express. There was a palpable sense of energy and excitement bursting from each compartment which flew steadily down the aisles. Students ran up and down calling for friends and loudly sharing their summer news.

She struggled to share their enthusiasm. Instead, her heart pounded and her face felt slick with sweat. She was keenly aware that her peers generally didn't really like her, and she had never felt comfortable trying to make friends.

Despite the slight shake to her hand, Hermione took a deep breath and chided herself: "This is a fresh start, you're not different anymore. Come on."

Remembering the traits of a Gryffindor, the house she desperately hoped to be sorted into, she knocked on the first carriage door she saw and pushed her way in.

A boy with white blonde hair and a pale face snapped his head around to look at her. His face contorted into such a sneer that Hermione froze like a rabbit in headlights and wondered how quickly she could back out of the compartment to run far away. However, his expression shifted almost as quickly as it arrived.

"Oh, you're not who I expected," he said.

It took her a moment to recover but she managed a small smile and replied, "Who were you expecting?"

The boy sighed and shifted back into his seat. "Certain people I'm supposed to be friends with."

He pushed his slender fingers through his hair and gestured towards the seats in front of him. "Sit down then, if we take up more space they won't be able to come in."

Hermione hesitated but acquiesced and began arranging her belongings neatly under the seat. Her hand hovered longingly over a book carefully slotted in her satchel but, with great effort, she refrained from pulling it out in favour of talking to her new companion.

Turning around, she smiled and held out her hand. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

The corner of the boy's lips quirked up slightly; if he was surprised at her directness, he made no comment. Reaching to grasp her outstretched palm he said, "My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

He noticed a slight blush creeping into her cheeks and smiled knowingly. He recalled the number of times he had been told how special he was, so the girl's response was understandable.

They both sat and a few moments of silence passed as they gazed around the compartment. It wasn't awkward, although not entirely comfortable either, and Draco felt compelled to break it first.

"Granger? I'm not certain I've heard that surname before, are you related – " He broke off as the door slammed open.

"Uh... Draco?" a male voice said.

Draco rolled his eyes at Hermione who hid a small smile as he replied, "Yes, clearly?"

She looked at this other boy who was standing halfway between the corridor and the compartment. He was large with a shaven head and a body that closely resembled a square.

"Are you coming to sit with us?" he asked.

"No. I'll see you later, Crabbe," Draco replied flatly.

Despite the somewhat glazed look the boy seemed to wear he understood the dismissal and lumbered out of compartment, sliding the door shut.

As though the interlude of another person's arrival and departure gave the two first years permission to start getting to know each other, they began speaking in earnest. When the conversation turned to books, Hermione wondered whether she ought to hide her passion. She had previously been told that her lengthy speeches on the topic were one of the reasons she had no friends. There was something about Draco, however, that persuaded Hermione to stay true to herself.

"Have you read 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them'?" she asked.

"Oh, yes!" Draco replied excitedly, before blushing slightly and continuing, "It was a while ago now, but the book started my interest in dragons."

Hermione smiled, "Like your name."

"Yes, it's silly I know."

"Not at all, I thought they sounded amazing," she said quickly. "Think we'll ever meet one?"

Draco laughed. For the first time in his life, he wondered whether he might actually be able to face one with this girl by his side. "Let's wait a few years, shall we?"

Her eyes lit up.

To his surprise, Draco found that he enjoyed conversing with someone who hadn't heard of him or his family. There was something liberating about the experience. He was free to be himself rather than a personality dictated by his parents.

It was hours later, but the compartment door finally slid open again.

"Draco?" This time it was a girl's voice. "Where have you been?"

Draco sat up straighter and replied, "Nowhere other than here, Pansy."

"Right, well, we're almost there so come over and get ready to head off."

"No, that's okay," Draco drawled. "I'll see you in there."

Pansy paused, quickly glaring towards Hermione before turning back towards Draco, "You do know Harry Potter is on this train, don't you?"

He hid his surprise well and said, "Of course, goodbye now."

Pansy huffed and strode angrily from the carriage.

"Do you treat all of your friends that way?" Hermione questioned.

"No," Draco replied. "Just those that try too hard."

Hermione, who wasn't quite sure what to make of this comment, said, "Why was she so keen you hear about Harry Potter?"

"Oh, father has made it quite clear I'm to befriend 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' and who am I to refuse such a request?"

They both looked at each other, Draco shrugged and she smiled back tentatively. Before either were able to speak again, an announcement shrilled through the air: "FIVE MINUTES BEFORE ARRIVAL".

The two began to pull their belongings together and slip robes over their shoulders as the train slowed to a halt.

Exiting the carriage together, Hermione and Draco turned in the direction of the crowds and allowed themselves to be carried along; not entirely sure where they were headed. Acting on impulse, Hermione grabbed Draco's hand to stop from being swallowed entirely into the throng. She blushed, realising what she had done and made to pull away. One side of his lip quirked slightly upwards and he held on tightly.

As the two emerged, slightly breathless, they almost stumbled into an incredibly large man. He glanced down at them as they gazed into his beady black eyes and bushy beard.

The giant smiled widely and boomed, "Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! C'mon, follow me!"

Still gripping Draco's hand, Hermione trailed behind Hagrid towards an enormous black lake and gasped. It was beautiful. The bright white moon was reflected in the glassy waters casting, what would have been, an eerie glow had it not been for the warm golden lights flooding through from the castle.

Hermione shivered; she was finally home.