The summer after our sixth year at Hogwarts passed in a rush. Dumbledore, with Harry's help, managed to track down the remaining fragments of Voldemort's soul in a cross-country Horcrux hunting spree. I honestly didn't think the old Headmaster still had it in him. Their success didn't come without its costs though. Preoccupied with the search, Dumbledore and Harry were both unavailable to help the wizarding world as it sank into despair. I remember the night we moved my parents to the Weasley's house in an effort to protect them. The night my world began to change.
"Hermione, love, are you sure this is safe?" my dad asked once again as I prepared to apparate them to the Burrow. Fred and George had already come and gone, taking our belongings with them. Now all that was left in my home were a few empty picture frames on the mantel.
"I'm sure, dad. Don't worry, I've done this many times," I reassured him, taking his hand. Mother took my other hand, looking slightly sick. Holding onto them tightly, I turned sharply and vanished from the spot. After being squeezed sharply, twisting, turning, and suddenly appearing moments later in the fields behind the Burrow, my parents collapsed shakily. Landing on my feet, I surveyed the space around me. Something felt wrong.
Then I heard them, the shouts and screams. Brilliant flashes of light flared up from near the house, bright in the dark night. "Stay here," I warned my parents, then raced off through the grass.
I never made it into the fray. A paralyzing spell hit me before I could figure out what was going on. As I fell to the ground, I realized the Weasleys were under attack from Death Eaters. One of the hooded men found me and shouted something to his companions. He knocked me out and we were gone before any of the redheads could come to my aid. That was the night George lost his ear.
I'd been taken back to the Malfoy Manor, my wand was snapped, and I was locked in the basement for most of the summer. During that time I gave up. I thought they'd kill me. I wanted to die. If I lived, Harry might try to come get me, and he'd be caught. As it turned out, he didn't hear of my kidnapping until after the war had ended.
So for two months it wasn't Harry and Ron who looked after me, but someone entirely unexpected. When Voldemort had realized there was value in keeping me alive, for the same reason I wanted to die, he put me under Draco's care. At first my caretaker begrudged me the effort it took to keep me alive. However, as Voldemort's reign of terror marched ever onward, the Slytherin began to confide in me.
Malfoy was sick of doing his father's and the Dark Lord's bidding. Every day he brought me news from outside, secretly gleeful whenever another piece of Voldemort was destroyed. I can still remember clearly the night he came down into the dungeon, furious, tears streaking down his face. It was the first night I'd held him. I realized then that I could never hate Draco ever again. He'd watched a Ravenclaw girl die, someone who'd tutored him during school. It had been the last straw.
He released me that night, sneaking me out on horseback so as to not draw attention to the use of magic. Without a wand, I couldn't apparate, and there was no way Draco could take me back to safety and not be arrested. Just outside the Malfoy property, he slid from the mare's back, telling me to keep her. He stood there in the dark as I rode as fast as I could away from the Manor.
I'd made my way back to muggle London and from there to the Leaky Cauldron. The barkeeper managed to get me back to the Weasleys, horse and all, where I fell ill and remained in bed until the war was over. I woke one day to see Harry and Ron by one side, my parents on the other. Voldemort was dead. Harry had confronted him at Hogwarts, the resting place of the last object Horcrux, with an army of students, teachers, and Order of the Phoenix members. Death Eaters and our allies alike were slaughtered, and we lost Lupin and Tonks and Fred and Mad-Eye and so many others that night.
Barely restored to health, I was called into the restored Ministry of Magic to give evidence at Draco's hearing. He'd turned himself in during the Last Battle, to avoid causing more deaths. The wizarding world was shocked when my testimony played in Malfoy's favor. He'd been let off with a light sentence: forced community service. He spent the rest of the summer helping to rebuild Hogwarts. Without magic.
And that brings us to the real story, which begins August 30th, at the Burrow.
"Hermione! You've got a letter, sweetheart!" Mum's voice called up the stairs. In Ginny's third floor bedroom, I rolled out of the cot I had claimed on her floor.
"Mrs. Granger!" George bellowed down the stairs.
"It's much too early to be waking the whole neighborhood!" continued Fred.
"Maybe we -"
"- should just -"
"- do it for you!"
I shook my head at the Twin's antics. If anything, they'd become even more rambunctious after you could tell them apart, perhaps to make up for it. As it was, a collection of groggy teens paraded down into the kitchen, where the two mothers already had breakfast all set up.
"Hermione, you look like you're wearing a bird's nest on your head." Ron had the audacity to point out. I gave him my best I'll-kill-you-later glare.
Mother proceeded to serve up eggs and bacon while Mrs. Weasley passed out the mail. In a strange reminder of normalcy, the Hogwarts letters had arrived for Harry, Ron, Ginny, and me. The twins were on temporary holiday while their apartment over Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was rebuilt, but that didn't stop them from each getting stacks of order forms every day from troublemakers across the country.
My letter was a good deal thicker than the others'. Along with a list of supplies for this year, a shiny black and gold badge and accompanying note fell out. Quick as a flash of lightning, George snagged the badge, showing it to Fred and snickering. In a move reminiscent of my third year at Hogwarts, Fred tapped it and handed it back to me. The badge had gone from reading "Head Girl" to "Big-Head Girl". Even I couldn't help but laugh, remembering Percy's fury those few years ago.
"Eat up, and get ready to go out. Quickly now!" Mrs. Weasley urged. "We're off to Diagon Alley as soon as you're all ready.
When all four Hogwarts students were ready, we filed one after the other into the fireplace, shouting "Diagon Alley" and disappearing into green flames. By Floo was not my favorite way to travel, and I tumbled out into the Leaky Cauldron moments later with a sour expression. Ron's mum beat us all down with the usual carpet brush before letting us escape into the Alley.
I hadn't been to the wizard's shopping district since my imprisonment in the Malfoy Manor, and what I saw astounded me. Nothing had escaped the destruction of the war. Shop fronts all along the street had been scorched or smashed, and in some places whole buildings were simply gone. It was refreshing, however, to see so many people working together, even now, to repair the damage. As we watched, a brand new window display was installed at Quality Quidditch Supplies.
"Right then, my robes are pretty much shot," Ron said. "I say we start at Madam Malkins?"
Ginny lead the way, skipping happily. It was good to see her so relaxed. We hadn't had a chance to rest in such a long time. "Don't forget, brother, we need dress robes this year too!"
Ron groaned, double-checking his supplies list. Beneath the normal supplies was a notice announcing that several balls would be held this year, celebrating the liberation of the wizarding world. The youngest Weasley brother's last experience with dress robes had lived on in Hogwarts legend for months after. The maroon robes were hideous.
Tinkling bells in the back of the shop signaled our arrival. As each of us took turns being measured for new school robes the others examined the racks cramming the front of the shop. Ginny's excitement was nearly tangible… mine, not so much. I was never the kind of girl to enjoy hours of shopping, but over the years Lavender and Ginny had managed to coax some kind of pleasure out of me during these experiences.
"I'm just not feeling it, Gin," I moaned, posing in the tenth dress thus far. The red satin looked good on me, but it didn't feel right. "Maybe I just won't go to the dances."
"You're Head Girl, Hermione. You have to," she scolded.
Sighing I turned back to the rack. "I know." I didn't want to tell her my real reason for not liking the dresses. I couldn't imagine dancing anymore. Not after the summer.
'Try the green one."
I did a complete about-face at the sound of the soft whisper. Ginny jumped. "What's wrong 'Mione?"
There was no one else in sight, and yet, that voice had been so clear. His voice, in the same gentle tone he had used when caring for me. "I thought I heard…" I mumbled, but left the statement unfinished. Facing me from the end of the rack was a green and black dress. Strapless, the dress would be held up by the black corset, which made up the top half. Falling to the floor beneath the corset were layers of green silk and black lace. Underneath, black tissue paper like fabric puffed out the bottom so it fell out instead of straight down. Attached to the same hanger was a shawl of sheer black fabric with green threads.
There was no doubt in my mind that this was the dress the voice referred too. There was also no doubt that I wanted it.
As we left the store, I tuned out Ginny's astonishment at my choice of fashion and Ron's insistent comments of "But it's green! Slytherin green!"
The rest of our shopping went rather quickly, although Harry did have to drag me away from a sixty-galleon tome in Flourish and Blots. Olivander was still working his beaten up shop, despite looking somewhat worse for wear after having been tortured by Death Eaters. I walked out half an hour later with a new wand to replace the one that had been destroyed.
10 ¼ inches, dogwood with unicorn tail hair, slightly springy, it was a loyal wand. At least that's what Olivander said. I rejoiced in being able to use magic again, instantly shrinking my shopping bags so they'd fit in my pocket. It work well for me.
The rest of that day and the next passed as they usually did right before the start of term; I sat out in the garden reading through my new textbooks as Harry and the Weasleys got in one last family game of Quidditch before the summer ended. We went to bed on the 31st giddy with excitement for the coming school year. For Harry, Ron, and I, it would be our last.
At eleven o clock exactly the next morning, the Hogwarts Express pulled away from Platform 9 ¾ as it always had. Passing through the tight corridor was even more difficult than usual as everyone felt the need to cheer for Harry. I was actually glad to escape to the prefects' car.
While as a prefect, my duty was to patrol the train every hour or so, as Head Girl I was afforded the luxury of spending the whole ride with my nose in a book. For this purpose I chose Magic in the Young by Louisa Avarsi, the text for my Parenting class.
At lunch time the car was pretty much empty when the trolley came through. Uttering a "no thank you" when asked if I wanted anything, without looking up, I sent the kindly witch on her way. It startled me, then, to have a chocolate frog box dropped in my lap.
"You should at least eat something," the same soft voice said. "I don't want to have to keep feeding you."
Finally pulled from my text, I looked up into a pair of grey eyes. "Draco," I breathed.
"Surprised?" Malfoy asked, bending his tall form to take the seat across from me. I gazed in awe at him. Gone were the sunken cheeks and dark circles of the previous year. Physical labor had helped him fill into his height; he was still skinny, just not toothpick thin. The man who sat before me was unidentifiable as the man who had released me from his father's basement cage.
"You look better," I said. Better didn't even begin to describe it. The blonde Slytherin was, dare I even think it, rather attractive.
"I feel better. Sunlight and good food will do wonders for even a Malfoy."
"Why are you here though?" I gestured around us with my free hand.
Draco pointed at the frog. "You eat, I answer," he said.
Sighing I put the text down and opened the box to the charmed chocolate. The frog croaked once and tried to hop away, landing right in my palm. I bit off its sweet head before it could get away.
"That was more violent than I expected…." Malfoy said. I glared at him, my mouth full of chocolate. "Yes, I know. I'm here because it's part of my sentence. They should have put me in jail; instead they sent me back to school."
He held out a golden badge, very similar to mine.
"They made me Head Boy."