Chapter 1: Learning to Cope

August 20

Dear beloved Mr. Darcy,

It feels as though it's been months that we have been separated. I've written to you constantly, but these letters are never to be delivered. I feel that that's why I can be completely honest. These words are not meant for your eyes anyway. I've been scared to write your name, so I call you Mr. Darcy.

Sometimes, I forget why we're apart. Sometimes, I think you wanted to leave me, but that's absurd. Sometimes, I think I'm dreaming and that I will wake, safe and sound, in your arms. Sometimes, I think I was dreaming, that you never loved me, that you still think of me as a dirty Mudblood. But I refuse to let go of the thought that I will see you again. I must remember what matters: you love me, and I love you, and nothing will ever change that.

All my love,

Hermione

One year prior...

"Oi, Hermione!" Ron bellowed. "You've got a letter from Hogwarts!"

Of course! This letter was the one she'd been waiting for all summer. Hermione raced down the rickety old stairs of the Burrow, intent on reading the single most important letter she'd receive since enrolling in her eighth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"RONALD! Leave those eggs where they are! And where are your brothers? And Hermione, your seat is there, next to Harry. Oh, and Ginny, do be more careful, won't you?" Ginny had fallen backwards out of her chair in her haste to take the other seat at Harry's side. "How can I trust that you'll be okay at Hogwarts if you can't stay put in a chair?" Mrs. Weasley lamented. Ginny glowered, her red hair looking like a halo of fire glowing around her pale face.

"Sorry, Gin. I have to agree," Harry said teasingly. He'd really lightened up since Voldemort was vanquished. That sort of thing does change a person. "Hermione, do me a favor and take care of her."

"She's in capable hands, Harry. Don't you worry; you'll have your girlfriend back in one piece. Now, Ginny," Hermione said confidently, "hand me that letter."

"Ooh, would you read it aloud? I'm curious," Ginny said as she gave the bright-eyed witch the envelope with the Hogwarts crest on it. The school motto, "Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus," was emblazoned underneath the crest.

"Sure," Hermione consented. "Dear Miss Granger, I am pleased to inform you that you have been selected as the leader of the Reparations committee this term. Of course, as this was your own idea, I find that to be a rather obvious choice. I have taken the liberty of finding you a partner in this committee, an individual who expressed a similar interest in helping Hogwarts, and subsequently the wizarding community, heal its wounds. Your partner and equal as co-chair of the Reparations committee is—" Hermione stopped reading abruptly. Harry and Ron would have a fit, and she was not keen on letting them ruin her eighth year before it started. She was already immensely protective of the Reparations committee, and though McGonagall's choice was far from ideal, it made the most sense. Of course, none of that would matter a bit to Harry and Ron.

"Well, who'd she pick?" Ginny inquired brightly. "Anyone we know? Who else would have that kind of idea?"

"Er… So, is anything new in the Auror department?" Hermione turned to Ron and Harry desperately.

"Nice try, 'Mione. Now, who's your partner on this committee? I assume you'll be spending plenty of time together," Harry said stubbornly.

Hermione groaned. "Must you be so pushy? It is my letter; I should be allowed to disclose or withhold—Hey!" Ron had snatched the parchment from her dainty hands. She tried fruitlessly to grab it from him as he held her off with one hand, scanning the page rapidly. His eyes bulged as if they'd been Engorgio-ed.

"What?!" Bits of breakfast spewed from Ron's mouth at his cry of indignation. "The bloody ferret is her partner! How in Merlin's name—"

"Really?" Mrs. Weasley asked mildly, taking the parchment from her son and wiping sausage off of the side. "Ah. Your partner and equal as co-chair of the Reparations committee is Mr. Draco Malfoy. You will be asked to forget your past differences and promote inter-House unity, for the good of Hogwarts and its students. As such, we have provided a more private dormitory for the two of you to live and work. Please find the password and directions to that dormitory enclosed within. I trust that none will be so capable of the task as you and Mr. Malfoy. I look forward to a pleasant year with you. Sincerely yours, Professor Minerva McGonagall."

"Ha! That can NOT be right. Draco Malfoy is an obnoxious, slimy git!" Ginny fumed. "Write to McGonagall, 'Mione. Perhaps there's been a mistake."

"I doubt that, Gin," Hermione said calmly, taking a deep breath and trying to reason with them. "When have we known McGonagall to make mistakes? Besides, I don't see what you're all so worked up about. It's just Draco." Maybe it would be easier to call him that. The name 'Malfoy' was too closely associated with the world of Voldemort and his Dark magic. "He did, after all, help in the War. And McGonagall's reasoning is logical enough. We have to promote unity so that no War blooms up on our watch again, and by the sound of it, that's what he wants as well. It shouldn't be difficult."

She knew immediately that she had convinced them that she'd lost her marbles. Harry and Ginny were gaping, open-mouthed, and Ron's ears were red with jealousy. He was more emotionally volatile after their relationship had fizzled out (aided only slightly by Hermione's discomfort in it). And now this fiasco was not helping.

"JUST DRACO?" he shrieked. Thankfully, he'd since swallowed whatever was left of his breakfast. "Since when is he Draco? Malfoy, just the bloke we've hated since first year. Just the bloody git who tormented us in all our time at Hogwarts. Just the prat who took the most pleasure in calling you, Hermione, a filthy Mudblood!"

Hermione simply looked at Ron coolly. It was getting harder to stay levelheaded with him. "Well, that was what the War was about, wasn't it? Dra—Malfoy was deluded into thinking only in terms of blood status. His father was in Voldemort's innermost circle, for Merlin's sake! Not Malfoy's fault, is it? I'm willing to start over if Malfoy is. And it certainly sounds like he is."

Before Ron had a chance to hurl back another angry retort, Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat, effectively snapping Harry and Ginny out of their stupor. "Well, Hermione, dear, that is rather—erm—noble of you. Now, why don't you and Ginerva go and pack. And Ronald, you and Harry can go and straighten out your Ministry business, since you're supposed to start with the Auror department this week. You can all go after breakfast."

Everyone mumbled their consent. After finishing their breakfasts, the girls fled to Ginny's bedroom.

"So… why are you so calm, 'Mione? And please, spare me the 'forgive and forget' nobility speech. I saw right through that." The redhead gave her companion a warning look as she plopped down on the edge of her bed. "Malfoy's a git, and I know you know that."

"Yeah, I do know," Hermione muttered without thinking, reaching absentmindedly for her trunk.

"Aha! So that speech was all talk!" Ginny yelled.

"No, of course not. I don't know what the War did to Malfoy. He was brainwashed by his insane father. Really, Gin, the War changed a lot of people. I don't fancy starting fights with Malfoy. I don't fancy assuming I'll be rooming with a git. I'd fancy a truce. Who knows what he'll be like?"

"Well, you say you don't fancy all of that other stuff," Ginny said slowly, smiling evilly. Suddenly, Hermione was filled with dread; she didn't like where this was going. "Do you fancy Malfoy himself?"

"Wha—No! Draco Malfoy? Really, Gin?" the brunette pathetically spluttered. Her cheeks flushed beet red. She was half-right. No one could truthfully say that Draco wasn't handsome—okay, godly beautiful—but his personality needed a major makeover before she would ever take a fancy to him.

"Well," Ginny said skeptically. "If you ever took to him—Malfoy, I mean—I approve. He may be a pompous prick, but he is bloody gorgeous!"

Hermione was shocked. As she began to pack her seemingly endless collection of books, she stammered, "But—I—uh—you—Harry!"

Ginny laughed. "Oh, I'm good with Harry. I've got no intention of leaving him. But Malfoy isn't bad, either," the ginger said with a wink. She leaned in and whispered, "D'you know he's called the Slytherin Sex God?"

She laughed. "Good to know the War's had no effect on your gossiping, Ginny. Now, let's pack."