Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction using characters and entities from the Wizarding World trademarked by J. K. Rowling. Original plots, dialogue, and characters are mine.


Synopsis: Due to the events of War, The Ministry of Magic has ordered students to repeat their final year, despite being legal wizarding age and completion of OWLs. Hermione Granger and Blaise Zabini form a friendship as head boy and head girl and find a way to use their authority to challenge the Ministry. Along the way, she finds herself caught between two unexpected love interests, while Blaise plays referee between his two friends.

The story will remain T-rated for a little while, but because of language, and eventual teenage antics, I'm preemptively making this rated M.

Originally Written for Strictly Dramione's Springfest Exchange, but has been re-written to become more of a love triangle.

Prompt: 8th year, Hogwarts Muggle Studies class. Paired during Integration of Purebloods to Muggle culture. Side pairing Blaise & Luna

Pairing: Dramione/Theomione Love Triangle. Not a triad.

Beta Love: Mama2HPBabies


A Girl Worth Fighting For

By SaintDionysus


Chapter 1: The Eighth Year


— BY ORDER OF —
MINISTRY OF MAGIC

All members of wizarding society, aged eighteen years and younger, are required to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry if they have not completed their N.E.W.T. level examinations.

⟢◈M◈⟣

To Whom it May Concern:

While we understand that the legal wizarding age is seventeen, and prior decrees state that any student is eligible to leave school upon coming of age and completing Ordinary Wizarding Levels, Hogwarts Board of Governors, The Wizengamot, and the Minister of Magic have enacted this decree in effect until June of the year two thousand. Recent events have taken its toll on our community. This enactment was created to allow students to heal with their peers, learn to put aside their differences, and rebuild their beloved school in an environment away from the whole of Wizarding society.

All students that fit the aforementioned criteria, will receive their school lists by owl. Any students with their apparition license must still check-in at platform nine and three-quarters before apparating to Hogsmeade.

Good luck.

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Kingsley Shacklebolt

Minister of Magic

—xoxox—

Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter sat at the kitchen table of 12 Grimmauld Place and read the letter over and over again.

"Kingsley can't be serious, can he?" Ron asked.

Hermione tucked a curl behind her ear and said, "I believe so. While I am choosing to go back to school, it's unfair to create this mandate when so many of us are already adults. Frankly, it's a violation of our rights."

Harry pouted, "Ron and I were supposed to start at the Auror Academy in two weeks. Instead, we have to buy schoolbooks and new uniforms. I guess being The Chosen One who vanquished the Dark Lord really doesn't count for much, does it?"

As much as Hermione would have liked to chastise Harry's sarcasm, he had a point. As war heroes and heroine, they thought they would be privy to a few more perks. That was not the case. The ministry still saw them as children and wanted to send them to go to school for therapy, free construction labor, or whatever this eighth year was supposed to be. The lack of choice definitely rubbed them the wrong way, to the point the wondered if they just swapped one regime for another.

Three owls swooped in to deliver their letters. Hermione opened hers first and proceeded to read aloud.

—xoxox—

HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

HEADMISTRESS: MINERVA McGONAGALL

Dear Miss Granger,

I would like to personally welcome you back to Hogwarts. Your presence has been missed. As you may have heard, the Ministry mandate requires you, along with your original class, to return for an eighth year, regardless of attendance last year. Between us, I view it as a slap in the face as an educator and belittling you as adults by taking away your rights. Nonetheless, Hogwarts is happy to welcome you home.

Additionally, we are in a unique situation as last year's Head Boy and Girl will be repeating their final year. Both have graciously declined the responsibility and I am happy to appoint you as Head Girl for the 1998–99 school year. You will share duties with Head Boy, Blaise Zabini.

In regards to living quarters, an inter-house dormitory has been opened for all eighth-year students. The ministry has granted you a space in which you may feel more comfortable, as adults, but I will warn everyone to exercise a level of restraint and remind you, that you will be setting an example for younger students

To add to your duties, all muggleborns and half-bloods will be assisting Professor Arabella Figg in the now compulsory, Muggle Studies course. More details on your involvement will be explained on the first day of term.

Lastly, with my promotion to Headmistress, you will have a new Head of House. Though you will be housed in an integrated dormitory, you still represent Gryffindor House.

I expect you, Harry, and Ronald in my office for tea when you arrive. Until then.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress

—xoxox—

"Wow. McGonagall was in a mood when she wrote that, wasn't she?" Ron said shocked at their headmistress's blunt letter and the long list of changes at the school.

"Mrs. Figg will be teaching Muggle Studies?" Harry scratched his head also trying to understand what they needed to expect when they returned to Hogwarts. "Well, makes sense."

"Harry, you know Professor Figg?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah. Remember when I told you about the squib neighbor that spoke at my trial?" Harry reminded her. Hermione's eyes lit up as she put the pieces together. "That's Mrs. Figg. Dumbledore had her move in when I was placed with the Dursleys; she was also my babysitter when I was little."

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "Yes! I mean, it was an absolute tragedy what happened to Professor Burbage, but a squib who has lived as a muggle is the perfect person to teach this subject. She would actually know what she's talking about."

"Ugh, you mean I need to learn about Muggle gadgets and stuff?" Ron griped.

"If we're lucky, she'll teach you about muggle manners and how not to be an insensitive prat all the time," Hermione shot him a scathing look.

Ron grew quiet. Things had been tense between them since the Battle. The kiss in the heat of the moment wasn't enough for them to move forward with a real relationship. Every time they were alone, it was awkward. He would say the wrong thing, and she would overreact. Harry had to intervene and tell them that for the sake of all of their friendships, a romantic relationship wasn't going to work.

"Hermione..." Harry said in a disciplinary tone, "play nice. Yeah, Mrs. Figg is a bit odd, but she's definitely the right balance of magical and Muggle to teach this class. I wonder what our roles as teacher's aides will be."

"I'm wondering the same thing, but I'm excited. I think it will be nice to go back to Hogwarts," she said wistfully.

"Yeah. I'm especially looking forward to the Feast," said Ron.

"And Quidditch. You think I'll get to be captain again?" Harry asked.

"Open your letters," Hermione motioned to them.

"Oh, yeah," Ron said as he and Harry tore open their envelopes. "Hey, I still get to be prefect!"

"Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and Ginny is co-captain! Ron, want to head back to your parents'? I want to celebrate the good news with Ginny," Harry said with a smirk.

"Harry, keep whatever it is you do with my sister to yourself," Ron looked as though he was going to be sick. "Yeah, we'll floo over. I can't believe Magical Transport gave us citations for not having our apparition licenses."

"Don't forget, our examinations are on Friday, nine a.m. sharp," Hermione stated.

"I'm not forgetting that one," Harry assured her. "The floo network is so limiting. How did we live without apparition?"

"Like barbarians," Ron joked.

Offended, Hermione said, "You mean, like muggles?"

"Oh, 'Mione. I didn't mean it like that," he tried to apologize.

"I'm going back to my parents' house to help them unpack. I'll talk to you later." She stood up from the kitchen table and gave Harry a hug from behind, then just walked past and curtly nodded, "Ron."

When Hermione was out of view, Harry stared at Ron with a disappointed look and shook his head.

"What?" Ron pretended not to know what that look was for.

"I don't know how she hasn't managed to hex you after eight years of friendship," Harry said, exasperated.

"Well, there was the thing with the birds…"

"I think the next time, she's going to use crows or something with sharper talons."

—xoxox—

Draco Malfoy passed his letter to his mother after he had read it a few times to himself. He was a bundle of mixed emotions. On the one hand, he wasn't ready to enter wizarding society and was looking forward to prolonging adolescence for just a little bit longer. On the other hand, he wasn't sure how he would be treated by the other students. Would they forgive him or at least tolerate him? Was his testimony enough to prove he wasn't a Death Eater sympathizer or would the faded Mark on his arm be a constant reminder?

"You turned down being Head Boy for a second year? And Miss Greengrass? Is she turning down her post as well?" his mother questioned coolly, allowing her son to explain himself.

"Yes, Daphne also passed on her post," Draco knew what his mother wanted, but he wasn't going to give it to her easily.

"Is there a particular reason why you and Miss Greengrass will not be taking on leadership roles?" The tight-lipped matriarch pushed the subject.

Knowing he wasn't going to get out of this, Draco sighed and reasoned, "Daphne said she wants to spend more time on her studies and looking after her sister. Astoria is still really shaken up by last year's events and can't live with the guilt of the things the Carrows made her do, especially to the little ones. Daph even got special permission from Headmistress McGonagall to stay in the seventh year dorms in case Tori gets night terrors and needs help taking her potions."

Draco saw his mother's stern face soften to that of a concerned mother. He knew this would make his reasoning a bit easier to swallow. "Mum. The past two years I felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. I was tasked with the impossible and then spent last year doing my best to be the Dark Lord's perfect little soldier and head boy. The looks my professors gave me, mum. They were so disappointed in me. I felt like I didn't deserve the title even though I worked for it. They knew I could do more to stop those bastards—"

"Language."

"Sorry. I just want to be a normal teenager, do well on my N.E.W.T.s, and play quidditch. Look at the letter. I'm still a prefect and Quidditch captain. I still have responsibilities, but not as much." He gave his mother a sweet look that he knew melted her heart. There is nothing stronger than the bond between a mother and son—and he would take advantage of it any way he could.

Narcissa took her son in her arms and tucked her head on his shoulder. He had grown even taller over the summer. It was hard for her to believe her little boy was becoming a man—but a man who wanted remain a boy for just a bit longer. "I'm very proud of you, Draco. It takes a strong man to take on immense responsibility, but an even stronger one to know his limitations. You've thought about this, and I support you."

"And Father?" he asked, not wanting to let his mother go.

"Don't worry what your father thinks." Her tone went cold again.

"Will you two ever be alright again?" he asked, finally breaking the embrace to look his mother in the eyes.

"I don't know. The things he dragged us into, dragged you into," her voice was filled with shame knowing she was partially to blame, "You weren't ready to make those decisions. I'm not a forgiving woman, Draco. It will take me some time if I ever do."

Draco nodded and understood, "I'm going to go meet Blaise, Theo, and Greg. I was granted some time off of house arrest to go visit Vincent's grave."

"Of course," she choked out. His mother, Irma, wrote to her frequently. She was still having difficulty with her son's death and husband's imprisonment. "You go. I'll send a request to the ministry for an escort to Diagon Alley. The letter here doesn't show you needing much in the form of new books, but you'll need some new robes. You've grown so much."

He knew the double meaning of his mother's words and gave her another hug. "Bye, mum. I'll see you at curfew."

—xoxox—

"Mum? Dad? Are you home?" Hermione hollered as she stepped onto the hearth. She looked around the sitting room and the kitchen and couldn't find them. "Mum?" She ran upstairs through all the rooms. "Dad?" Her chest tightened as she started to panic. "Where are you?" She raced to the back garden and couldn't find them. Tears started streaming down her face as she ran outside to see them in the drive unloading groceries. She threw her arms around her mother and sobbed, "I couldn't find you!"

Jean Granger dropped the groceries and held her daughter tight. "Oh, sweet pea. We're here. You found us. You'll always find us."

"Mum, Dad, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I should have known you just went to the market. It's just—"

"Shh," her mother cooed. "Let's go inside and make a cup of tea."

After the Battle, it didn't take Hermione, Harry, and Ron long to find her parents in Australia. Wendell and Monica Wilkins were not the discreet couple Hugh and Jean Granger were. They made the news after becoming Australia's most extreme couple. They went BASE jumping off the Sydney Harbour bridge, performed oral surgery on a crocodile at the Australia Zoo, surfed in shark infested waters, and competed in a rally race in the Australian Outback. When their memories were returned, they fainted in horror at all the dare-devilish things they had accomplished. They realized they had done those outlandish acts to fill a void, they didn't know it at the time, but they had missed Hermione, and gladly went home with their beloved daughter.

Jean placed a mug of tea in front of Hermione and sat beside her. Her fingers lovingly combed her daughter's curls. Hermione was born with a soft tuft of blonde hair, but it didn't take long for the brown curls to take over her little head. Anytime little Hermione as scared, Jean's loving touch would always calm her down.

"Sweetheart, what's on your mind? Anything you want to talk about?"

"I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself for doing what I did to you and dad. But I had to protect you. I had—"

"You did the right thing. Your dad and I wouldn't have been able to protect ourselves. Your world is wonderful and at the same time, terrifying for those of us who cannot wield magic. You made an impossible decision out of love, and we will always be grateful and love you for it," Jean reassured her child.

Hermione turned her head to look at her mother, "You know, I got the idea from granddad. Not the memory erasing, but the sending you away."

"How so?"

"He told me the story of when he was a little boy, during World War II, he was sent to the country to escape the bombing. He didn't really know where he was or if he would ever see his family again. But he was safe. All I wanted for you and dad was to be safe and not to mourn me if I…"

"Sweetheart, you forgot how powerful love is. We did mourn you, even though we didn't know that is what it was. We did the most ridiculous things because our hearts missed you. You can't just erase the bond between a mother and child."

"Oh, mummy!" she hugged her mum and felt small once more.

"Hermione, I don't know if you're ready to go back to school. Can you just take a correspondence course and return for examinations?" Jean grew worried about sending Hermione back in this fragile state.

"We don't have a choice. There was a Ministry decree mandating we all return to school. I believe it's all part of some master plan to teach us how to get along and go through therapy," she explained.

"Oh, that's not so bad."

"They'll also be placing us in the same dormitories with students who fought on the opposite side."

"Oh. How do you feel about that?"

"I don't know. Part of me wants to forgive, but the other part of me is worried about the tension. I know they went to trial and honestly mum, they were scared and only fought on that side because they thought that's what their parents wanted. I don't know. I'm torn."

"I say extend the olive branch, but keep them at arm's length. Don't get closer unless you feel safe."

"Thanks, mum. That's exactly what I'll do."

"Your tea is cold. Shall I warm it up?"

Hermione laughed, "Please."

—xoxox—

The boys laid flowers on the empty grave. The fiendyre had destroyed everything in the Room of Requirement including Vincent's body, but his mother still wanted to memorialize him and give him a place in the family graveyard.

"You were an idiot, Crabbe," Draco said staring at the marble headstone, "You cast the curse that killed you and could have killed both me and Greg, but you were loyal, and I won't forget that. I hope a feast awaits you on the other side."

"What if he's a ghost a Hogwarts now?" Goyle pondered.

"I hadn't even thought of that," Theo remarked.

"Well that bastard will be the perviest ghost in all of Hogwarts history, and we'll have to send the Bloody Baron to make sure Crabbe doesn't peep in all the girl's bathrooms," Blaise joked.

They all laughed, imagining the horror on Pansy's face if she saw his ghost appear while she showered.

"Alright, Greg and I have another hour until we are due back. What do you want to do?" Draco asked.

"Mrs. Crabbe said she was going to have tea and snacks for us. In the meantime, I have this," Blaise pulled out a flask and took a swig, then passed it to Draco on his right.

"Very nice," Theo chimed in and took it after Draco.

"So integrated dorms?" Draco said.

"Ugh," Greg grumbled.

"We'll be sharing a common room with the golden trio," Theo stated, "and you'll be getting awfully close to one Hermione Granger, won't you Blaise."

"Ha! I guess so. It's up to me to be the shining beacon of positivity for Slytherin House, boys. It could have been you, getting friendly with Granger, Draco." Blaise shrugs his eyebrows up and down before taking another swig. He notices Draco's face clench, and ears go pink. "Whoa, mate. It was a joke. Why are you getting all flustered?"

"I'm not," Draco defended himself. "I'm just thinking about our history, and how awkward it's going to be."

"What do you mean, your history?" Theo pried.

"Um, my aunt almost killing her, Crabbe almost killing her, Potter and Weasley saving me twice during battle, then she and Potter saving me at my trial. I'm in massive debt to that girl, one that I can't just pay off," Draco scratched his head in frustration. "I'm going to have to do something. Say something. I can't just pretend things are all great for the sake of inter-house unity."

"Drake, I'll have her ear because we're forced to work together. We don't have any bad blood between us. I can be your mediator," Blaise clapped him on the back. "I mean, I know you fancy her, and now she's this war heroine, it's going to be really hard to fancy a pathetic sack like you back without some coercion."

"Sod off! I don't fancy her!" Draco said defensively.

"Well, I do," Theo said. "She looked so good at your trial, Draco. That summery floral dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Our uniforms should be made illegal. I can't believe those tits and arse were hiding beneath those robes. The way everything bounced as she took the witness stand. How did you not pop a boner in the middle of the Wizengamot? I know I did."

Draco lunged at Theo, and the two started rolling in the grass.

Theo threw his hands up, "I concede! Granger's all yours...for now. If you don't make any progress by Christmas, I'm asking her out. I have a better chance with her than you do. I was her partner in both potions and arithmancy in sixth year. Clock's ticking, Draco."

Blaise and Greg couldn't stop laughing at the way Theo egged Draco on. He had a point, and it was really getting to Draco.

"Shut up," he pouted. "I don't fancy Granger. I just can't stand you being such an idiot."

"Uh huh," Blaise said skeptically. "Clean yourselves off, or else Mrs. Crabbe is going to have more questions for us than we care to answer."


Thanks for reading. Feel free to leave a review. I'm also on tumblr: harrypotterandthegobletofwine and Facebook: saintdionysuswriter.