Expect the Unexpected

Hermione sat in the corner of the compartment with her knees up to her chest. Tears streamed down her face as she looked out the window of the Hogwarts Express at the passing landscapes. She and Ron had had another fight. She didn't know why she didn't expect it; it had been their 5^th fight in the past two weeks. They had been together since the beginning of 6^th year, and the problems had started at the beginning of summer break.

It was the same as always... He wanted more, but she wasn't willing. But this time, he had gotten the idea that force would work better than words. In the end, Hermione had run out of their compartment and found the only other one available, in the very back of the train.

And she thought this year would be different...

She had gotten her Head Girl letter and badge a few weeks before, and she was ecstatic. This was the year, her 7^th year at Hogwarts, she was going to make a difference, leave her mark. But already that path was turning in the wrong direction. Part of her wanted her path to end.

She had promised herself that a boy would never get in the way of her dreams, but that's exactly what Ron was doing. She could feel her dreams slipping through her fingers, and she felt helpless to stop it. He had to be everything. He was one of those over-protective boyfriends. He had gotten extremely upset when he found out she was talking to a boy that moved in next door over the summer. So upset that he had threatened suicide.

She didn't look up when the door slid open. Only when she heard the "a-hem" coming from her visitor did she glance up into the steely gray eyes of Draco Malfoy.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, returning her eyes to the window.

"I was just wondering if I could sit with you...there's nowhere else to sit," he stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You can sit, just leave me alone," Hermione said coldly.

He sat in the corner farthest from her, glancing over occasionally. Finally, after having enough with his eyes on her, Hermione looked over. "What?!"

"I'm just trying to figure out why someone with your life would look so stressed out," he replied, moving his gaze to the floor.

"Oh yeah, and we all know my life is bloody perfect."

"Whoa! I didn't mean to offend you, I just wanted to know what was wrong."

"Why, so you can use it against me?"

"No...because I...care, and I wanted to know if I could do something to help," he said in a soft voice.

Hermione looked at him in wonder, then disbelief. "Yeah right Malfoy, like you'll ever care about a Mudblood."

"I never thought you were a Mudblood," he whispered, but Hermione heard.

"What was that, Malfoy? Is that you, or am I dreaming?" An obvious sarcastic quirk was in her voice.

"I said I never thought you were a Mudblood...it was just the way I was brought up. That was my father calling you that over all those years, not me," he confessed, keeping his eyes on the floor.

Hermione looked at him, not understanding why the boy she knew as the heartless Slytherin bastard was actually explaining his past ruthless behavior. She stared at him for a few moments, before speaking.

"Malfoy...did something happen over the summer?"

He sighed, and finally looked her in the eyes, and said, "I refused the Dark Mark, my father disowned me, my mother might be dead...but I'd rather not talk about it..."

Hermione, with eyes wide, stared into his eyes, while new tears formed in hers. But this time, a small smile crept across her face.

"What are you smiling about, Granger?" Malfoy asked, cocking his head to the side.

"I thought there was something wrong when you asked to share my compartment, but I had no idea..." she breathed. She rushed over and engulfed Draco in a hug. Not knowing what else to do, he gingerly placed his arms around the tearful Gryffindor teenager.

"Hermione! What on earth do you think you're doing?!"

Hermione felt hands pulling her out of Draco's embrace as she turned around to meet the eyes of none other than Ron Weasley. She was shoved into another seat as Ron towered over her, hands on his hips.

"Do you know what you're doing?! He's becoming a Death Eater, Hermione! I thought you knew that!" Ron yelled, as his face become the same fiery red as his hair.

"Ron, will you calm down for a minute? First of all, he's not becoming a Death Eater. Second of all, what are you doing in here?" Hermione tried to stay calm as the extremely angry Ron began to clench his fists.

"Well, I was going to try to apologize, but I see no reason to do that now. One little fight and I find you throwing yourself at other guys...and not just any guy, but Malfoy!" Ron tried to be rational, but at the thought of Malfoy, he wanted to shriek.

"One little fight? After the past two weeks, and you can only remember one little fight?!" she screamed, as she lost all patience with the fuming Gryffindor boy.

"We made up all the other times; I thought we had put those in the past!"

"Well you're wrong, Ron Weasley! And if you're not going to take my values and morals seriously, then we're through!"

"FINE!" Ron yelled, storming out of the compartment and slamming the sliding door behind him, shattering the glass.

Hermione collapsed on the floor as a new spell of tears came streaming down her face. She had totally forgotten Draco was there until she heard a quiet "Reparo" at the glass, and a soothing hand on her shoulder. She turned around to find his eyes full of concern.

"I'm s-sorry you h-had to s-see that," Hermione stuttered through tears.

"It's okay," he answered, taking her into his arms. She clutched onto his shirt while he tried to calm her by running a hand through her hair and rocking her. He didn't stop even after the weeping subsided and were replaced with the regular, deep breaths of slumber.

~*~

Hermione woke in the comforting warmth of a stranger's arms. Puzzled, she lifted her head to catch a glimpse of a sleeping Draco Malfoy, and everything came flooding back...Draco's confession, Ron's accusation, the breakup, and then falling asleep in Draco's arms.

She sighed and lifted herself up out of Draco's embrace to get a better look at him. He had changed. The silvery blonde hair was no longer slicked back with gel, but fell loosely in his eyes. She placed a hand on his chest, muscled by years of Quidditch, and felt him breathing steadily. Sighing again, she laid back down, resting her head where her hand had been, listening to his heartbeat.

The movement had woken him, and his eyes fluttered open. He looked down to see Hermione laying on him. Not wanting her to know he was awake, he just stared at the girl who had accepted him. He watched her in wonder. She had believed him. She hadn't even questioned him. He had expected Slytherin to turn on him, not to mention everyone else, but here he was, with the beautiful Gryffindor girl in his arms.

He noticed she had changed over the past years. Her bushy brown hair had been magically (literally, by magic) straightened and tamed, and her teeth had never been the same after fourth year. Her figure had gone from the awkward preteen look, to the curves of a woman's. She had obviously spent a lot of time outside through the summer, because her skin glowed with a well-formed tan. She had given up the baggy school uniform for more fitted muggle clothes that day, wearing fitted jeans and a button up shirt. It was only then that Draco became aware of the Head Girl's badge pinned neatly to her shirt.

He had been named Head Boy that summer. His mind drifted back to the memory that had driven him out of his house...

"That's wonderful, Draco! I'm so proud of you!" Narcissa said, hugging her son.

"Thank you, Mother."

"Finally," Lucius breathed, eyes glistening, "A future Death Eater as Head Boy. Congratulations, my boy, you could most likely become one of the Dark Lord's more valuable followers."

"We have spoken about this before, Father," Draco stated coldly.

"Yes, indeed we have," Lucius sneered. "I gather you're not going to move from your decision, then?"

"You, of all people, should know that a Malfoy never backs down from a promise."

"You have inherited my hard head, Draco. In most cases, I would be proud. But this disappoints me, my son."

"I am not your son. The only thing we have in common is blood, which isn't as strong as you think," Draco stated boldly.

"Well, I'm sorry you feel that way." Lucius sighed and pulled out his wand. "Of course, I can't very well have you running around with secrets of the family." He pointed his wand at Draco's face, the tip a mere 2 inches from his nose. "Goodbye, Draco. Aveda Ke-"

His words were cut off by a shattering of glass, and Draco's eyes shot open. Narcissa was standing behind a fallen Lucius with the ragged end of a large crystal vase. Her eyes were full of terror.

"Go...run, Draco," Narcissa whispered frantically. "I don't know when he'll wake up. Get out while you can."

Draco looked into his mother's petrified eyes and whispered, "I love you, Mother."

~*~