Chapter 1

Hermione Granger was never one to act upon impulse. Her actions were always derived from quickly calculated mental notes, which were always successful. She didn't believe in fate; she was not one who was superstitious. Divination and fortune telling was not a science as far as she was concerned. Yet when she bumped into Draco Malfoy in Diagon Alley in August of 1998, she felt as though maybe there was some kind of being forcing them together.

Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry was becoming a school again, that much was clear. It had been 4 months since the great battle that began the change in the wizarding world as it is today, and it was becoming unclear where the future would lead. The ministry of magic had appointed it's new minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Minerva McGonagall was now the official Head Mistress of Hogwarts.

Hermione was pondering this as she left Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes on her way to the Leaky Caldron; whereabouts she stumbled upon what fate had thrown her into.

Draco Malfoy only escaped Azkaban by the skin of his teeth, and further more the soul-sucking, fear-inducing dementors. He, his father and his mother had been given freedom instead of incarceration for donating a sizeable sum of their wealth to the school they had once been responsible for destroying. Had it not been for the cowardice of his father in betraying information on his once comrades, his family (if you could call it that) would not be allowed to return to the society that now ostracized him.

Draco sat with his head in his hands, outside Madam Malkin's Dress Robes. He had no parcels with him, and he still seemed visibly ill of health, with skin more pale than usual, and his face more pointed from weight loss. However his immaculate suit bore no wrinkles, and his shoes were still polished to the appropriate shine of the upper class.

Hermione would of continued on her way without stopping to pay him any attention, had it not been for the crowd of incoming middle-aged witches drawn to the idea of meeting part of the golden trio which forced her to turn abruptly causing her to drop her parcel of books.

"Oh bother," she muttered, dropping to her knees hurriedly to stuff the three volumes of The Standard Book of Spells back into their paper bag. Draco looked up at the sound and too noticed the flurry of oncoming women. He dropped down and scooped up the books, ushering an astounded and very bushy Hermione into the robe store.

He hid her behind his shadow, the two of them pressed against each other in a matter too personal for sworn enemies. Her breathing was rapid, but his calm breathing slowed hers down. He had his hand placed on the wall beside her head with his legs flush against her, noses inches apart. And that was the moment Hermione knew fate was having it's way with her, because in that moment thoughts of her boyfriend and going to meet him for lunch no longer seemed important. She wanted to stay pushed against this wall hiding from an onslaught of fans forever.

The women outside hurried along past the doorframe, unable to see the two of them huddled beside the door. Draco smirked and pulled away from Hermione, much to her dismay. For some reason she rather liked the way it felt to touch him.

Draco cleared his throat and looked at Hermione awkwardly. Being brought back to her senses she shook her head clear and nodded to the ferret. Sheepishly she opened the door with the ting-a-ling of the bell above it, looked right and left before dashing out of the shop, not a word spoken to the aristocratic young man.

Ron looked at his watch hurriedly from his table in the dimly lit tavern, tapping his foot impatiently. What could have caused her to be late? He only had a half hour lunch break today, as auror training was very rigorous. Hermione was always on time to their lunches, early even. She always saved their table over near the window that looked out over muggle London, but because she was late, Ron had had to grab a table quickly on the opposite side, near the kitchens, where a faint odor of rotting eyeballs gave an unpleasing aroma. He let out a sigh and looked impatiently at the door.

As if on cue Hermione hurried into the store, her arms piled high with parcels. She looked flushed and a little more frazzled than usual, but Ron paid little attention. Standing up he grabbed her parcels from her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, before sitting back down.

"Sorry I'm late, I had to run from some crazy middle-aged women bent on getting my autograph," she explained, taking her seat.

Ron replied hesitantly, "That's okay love, I was just a little worried, habit and what not."

"How was training today?" she asked, looking up from her lap where she just placed her napkin.

"Terrific, we were assigned partners today. I've been assigned Fay Dunbar as my partner, I can't believe we never talked to her properly, what with her sharing a dorm with you and all."

"I'd forgotten all about Fay. I kind of wish I'd made more girlfriends from Gryffindor, what with Lavender passing away," she said. The two were momentarily brought back to May 2nd, where they saw Lavender's lifeless body being attacked by Fenrir Greyback.

"I wish we could have done more to help her," he sighed, reaching across the table and holding Hermione's hand.

"Ron! You know what that counselor said about the war. You aren't allowed to think about how you could've changed your actions, because you can't change what happened. Lavender knew the dangers, and unfortunately she didn't survive. Its cold and hard, but it's the truth," she scolded. "You can't save everyone."

"You're right."

"I'm always right," Hermione grinned, teasingly.

"Well I haven't found fault in you yet," Ron teased back. "Although… there is the hair…"

Hermione smacked him playfully on the arm and raised her hand to Hannah Abbott, the matron, ready to order her usual. Lunch ran smoothly for the twenty-five minutes they had together, and when it ended, Ron apparated to the ministry, and Hermione to Hogsmeade where she made her way back to the castle, parcels in tow.

The path from Hogsmeade was beginning to show signs of new life. The trees were becoming green again and the sounds of wildlife could be heard. The sun beat hungrily on Hermione's shoulders. She admired the smell of the grass as the light wind blew it across the field next to the well-trodden path, as it lead up to the gates of her home.

As she neared the gates she let out a sigh, noticing no one was there to inspect her before her admittance onto the grounds. Withdrawing her wand, she flicked her wrist and her familiar otter leapt out the end of it's length, twisting and swimming through the air. Its silvery wisps following it as it set off in search of someone to let her in. With another flick she conjured an armchair and flopped into it as she waited.

Her skin was beginning to glow a faint red when finally someone came to let her in. She stood when she saw the figure from a distance, and she erased the armchair into thin air. She tidied herself up a bit, tucking her long hair behind her ears, and putting the sleeve of her singlet back onto her shoulder. As the figure drew closer she was bought to the realization again that fate might be acting against her- Draco Malfoy stood facing her from the other side of the gates.

"Granger," he said coolly, unlatching the gate from inside.

"Malfoy," she replied, her tone just as icy.

He stepped around the gate and held his wand up to her. "In third year, on the day that stupid hippogriff went missing, what did you call me?"

"A foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach," Hermione said without hesitation, raising her chin, tempting him into an argument.

"Seems you are the smartest witch of our age. You knew it from the get go, hey?" Draco muttered, turning back around and letting Hermione enter the grounds before him. He turned his back on her and slid the lock into place, watching the transparent slither of magic as it sealed the gate back up. "That I was a coward in the making?"

"No, I don't believe in fortune-telling. I couldn't have predicted the future, ferret. I just didn't like you," she thought, turning to him confrontationally.

The two walked up the long drive towards the castle. Hermione was really feeling the heat and looked over at the lake longingly.

"You wouldn't want to swim in it now," Draco said pointedly as he followed her gaze.

She looked at him questioningly. "Why's that?"

"Well Slytherin's common room is beneath the lake, isn't it? One of the walls of the room is completely glass, and shows the whole contents of the lake. The merpeople are at war, and it's messy. I think some sided with the Dark Lord, and others with the Order, and so they're fighting over who should be in charge. But like I said, it's not a nice place to swim at the moment," he shared, the coolness leaving his tone. "I can show you sometime if you like? It's cool in the dungeons."

Hermione was filled with nervousness at the suggestion, but it's not everyday you're offered an opportunity to witness a civil war among creatures of the lake. She looked at him as they reached the steps leading to the main building and asked "Can we have a look now?"

Authors note: Can't wait to see if you guys like this one!