Choice

Ahh. Home again.

Harry smiled in relief as he and Ron walked up the steps and through the giant oaken doors of Hogwarts.

"Harry! Ron!" Hermione came flying at them from a corner.

"Hi, Hermione!" Harry said, and Ron echoed him. "Why weren't you on the train?"

"Oh, I meant to send you an owl. I've just been so busy," she blinked at them, grinning. "My parents' and I went on vacation to Jamaica. They dropped me off here a few days before the start of term, on their way to South America for a Sabbatical."

By this time the trio had all found seats in the Great Hall. Their conversation came to an abrupt halt as the Sorting Hat broke into song. Harry listened with only a half ear; he was more interested in Seamus's repeated efforts to turn his water into rum.

"Oh, give over!" said Dean, teasing his dorm mate. "You've been trying that for years. I think your spell is a fake!"

Seamus finally nodded in agreement, quitting just as Dumbledore stood to make the start of term announcements. While Seamus was listening, he absently took a drink of his water.

"Hey! I did it!" he yelled out, interrupting the Headmaster. The Hall went silent, all eyes turning to the Gryffindor table. As Seamus blushed from head to toe, Dumbledore added his congratulations.

"I'm glad you have finally managed to turn your water to rum, Seamus, as are the rest of the students. I daresay some of them will be wanting you to teach them the spell!" Dumbledore then got down to important business. "Now, students... You may eat!"

Ron and Harry loaded their plates with the different foods that had suddenly appeared on their table. Ron asked, "Has your scar hurt at all this summer, Harry?"

The Dursleys' had gone on a family vacation over the summer, and Dumbledore had insisted that Harry join them. They had left at the beginning of the summer, and the Dursleys' had simply dropped Harry off in London at the start of term, before they headed back to their vacation house. Dudley's school started almost a month after Hogwarts started. Unfortunately, the vacation was one way of insuring that Ron and Hermione couldn't get in touch with Harry. It was absolutely forbidden.

Harry shook his head. "No. After last year, one would expect Voldemort to be out in the world, and my scar to be hurting every step of the way. But... nothing. Still, it's early in the year yet!" Ron nodded agreement, his attention wandering. Harry just smiled as he watched Ron watching Hermione, and continued talking.

***

Hermione was quietly eating some delicious spaghetti and meatballs, listening to her two best friends' talk. As she did so, she subtly studied the two, noticing the differences between them. Harry had grown--he was now five foot, nine inches--but Hermione knew that he probably would get no taller. He had also filled out some what. He was still lean and trim, and he had a seeker-like build. He was made for speed, and was agile to that effect. Being a seeker is in his blood, in his family. Of course he has the right build for it! Hermione thought, smiling to herself.

She then shifted her attention to Ron, her other friend. She and Ron had grown closer in their fifth year together, and she told him a lot. It was him she'd told about her crush on Harry. True, the only reason she told him was because that crush was gone now--had been gone for a long time. Now she studied the red headed boy across from him, and wondered who she dared tell of her crush this time. She and Ron had had some pretty intense flirtatious moments in the past... And who wouldn't like him? I mean... look at him! At the age of seventeen, Ron was tall--six foot even! -- and had developed well. His red hair was growing out, in fact, he seemed to be following in Bill's footsteps, and his hair was brushing the collar of his robes, and would soon be long enough for a ponytail. His long eyelashes framed eyes of a deep blue, and his freckles stood out perfectly on his white skin. He's gorgeous, Hermione thought to herself.

Hermione looked away, embarrassed. I know no one can read my mind... But if anyone could then I don't want them to know how I feel about Ron! Her eyes scanned the room, looking for something else to focus her thoughts on. They crossed to the Slytherin table, and she noticed that Draco Malfoy was there, flanked as usual by Crabbe and Goyle.

Hermione found herself studying Draco as well. From this distance, it was hard to tell too much about him, even though Hermione knew him to be gorgeous. I'm just surrounded by sexy guys, she thought to herself, giggling. Draco's silver hair fell on his forehead, and looked incredibly silky and touchable. He was a little taller than Harry, about five foot ten inches. In fact, now that Hermione thought on it, Draco and Harry's builds were a lot a like. Both of the two boys were bred to be seekers--in fact, the two boys were the best seekers that Hogwarts had seen in fifty years or more (even if Malfoy had bought his way onto the team...) ---and Draco was just as lithe as Harry was.

Just then, Draco turned his eyes towards the Gryffindor table. From the distance between the two tables, it was impossible to tell what color his eyes were. Hermione assumed that they were gray, or a light silver color. His hair probably lightened his eyes, making them look more silver than they were. His eyes stopped on Hermione, and she felt as if her whole body was on fire. She didn't--couldn't! --break eye contact with him, not that she wanted too. Finally, after what seemed like ages, Draco looked away, and Hermione gave a deep shiver. Now, why do I feel so fluttery? She wondered.

***

Ron tried to pay attention to Harry, but his mind kept wandering... along with his eyes. He couldn't stop watching Hermione. He had developed a crush on her last year, and was startled to see that it hadn't gone away over the summer; it seemed to be getting stronger, if anything.

She's beautiful. Ron knew that her beauty was on the inside as well as the out. She was an average height, around five foot four inches, unless he missed his guess. Her eyes, light brown with flecks of green here and there, were surrounded by a thick fringe of long, brown eyelashes, and her hair reached far down her back, almost to her waist. She glanced at him briefly, then, and smiled. Her whole face lights up when she smiles! he thought, smiling back.

Her gaze shifted, and for a long second she stared at the Slytherin table. Ron looked over there to see what had held her attention, and saw Draco looking their way. Ron watched Draco the entire time the Slytherin and Hermione stared at each other, and he felt Hermione shiver next to him as Draco broke eye contact. Draco looked at Ron next, and Ron sent all the hatred he had over to the other boy. If only looks could kill, Ron thought, before he turned his attention back to Harry.

***

Draco blinked after Ron looked away. He hates me, came the realization, quickly followed by another thought. Why shouldn't he? When have I ever been nice to him? For that matter, when had he ever been nice to any of the Gryffindors? And since when did he stare at the Mudblood without sneering? He laughed at himself when he realized that he had just said Mudblood as a matter of course. He almost never said it with proper venom anymore.

As the group of Slytherins got up from their table, Draco tuned back into the conversation. "She's a filthy little know-it-all," Goyle was telling Crabbe.

Crabbe felt the need to defend himself. "I didn't say she wasn't, I only said that for a Mudblood she didn't look half bad!" Draco realized that they were talking about Hermione, and he almost nodded in agreement with Crabbe before catching himself. The group headed back to their common room, and Draco endeavored to change the subject.

"I wonder what spell Seamus used to turn his water into rum..." This thought entertained the sixth years as they walked through into their common room. Goyle and Crabbe started towards their dorm room.

"You comin', boss?" Goyle asked, as they stopped at the foot of the stairs to wait.

Draco sank into a soft green armchair in front of the fire. "No, I'll stay here." The two boys started to turn around and come back, but he waved them off. "Now, you two go on to bed like good little boys." They watched him, trying to decide whether or not he was being sarcastic. He sighed, and told them "Shoo. I want to be alone."

After they left, Draco thought more about his reaction to Hermione. Crabbe was right; she was rather good looking for a Mudblood. In fact, the more Draco thought about it, the less that her ancestry mattered to him. He just didn't care anymore.

He went on thinking in this vein for a time, before he noticed that he wasn't alone in the common room. Blaise walked in, her hips swaying and her blonde hair turned gold in the firelight.

"Hi, Draco," she said, her full lips curving into a smile. Draco quickly stood up, and headed to his dorm room.

"Hullo, Blaise." he said, as he attempted to hurry past her.

"Oh, going to bed already?" she asked, placing a slender hand on his chest to stop him.

He smirked. "That was the general idea," he told her as he removed her hand.

She stepped aside to let him pass, but not before giving him a light kiss. "Sleep well," she said, gliding past him to her own rooms.

***

In the Gryffindor tower, Harry smiled and told Ron and Hermione good night. "I'll see you in the morning," he threw over his shoulder as he headed up the stairs to his dorm.

Ron watched Hermione, and when she moved to sit down on a couch, he moved to sit down beside her. "I'm worried about Harry," she said quietly, and he nodded agreement. Both of them had noticed that he seemed tired and thin. This could just be because of bad treatment from the Dursleys', or it could be that he was hiding details from them again. They discussed him for a few minutes longer, before Hermione stood. "I'm going to bed," she told him. She stood there looking at him for a few seconds, and then went up the stairs to her dorm.

"Goodnight," Ron called, as he watched her slender form move up the stairs. After a few seconds longer, he got up and went upstairs to his bed as well.

He spent a restless night, haunted by dreams of long brown hair, dreams of a jagged scar and round glasses, and dreams of silver eyes.