Author's Note: This is going to be a long, fleshed out story. I look forward to sharing the rest with all of you. Enjoy.

20th October 1998

A loud knock rumbled through the hollow, unlit corridors of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Hermione awoke to the sound, the weight of the last several months resting heavily on her eyelids as she slowly blinked them open. It seemed she had fallen asleep in the lounge again, the side of her face plastered on the arm of the comfiest sofa in the house and a book dangling loosely from her fingertips. The fire in the hearth had burned out, but the room was still toasty due to a charm that she had performed when she and her friends first moved into the abandoned house. It had been months since then … months since the war … but their habits remained the same.

Ron spent his days and nights listening to Potterwatch on his little wireless radio, trying to help the families whose loved ones were still missing, whilst Harry left the house early each morning and didn't return until late at night. Both Ron and Hermione tried to stop him at first, to question him and warn him that it wasn't safe for him to be out there on his own, but he refused to listen. His friends eventually decided to let him go and do what he needed to do. Still, Hermione found it difficult to rest and waited to hear the sound of Harry's footsteps creeping up the stairs and into his room each night. Ron, too. They worried for him, now more than ever, but they knew to give him space and let him find his own way back.

That in mind, Hermione grabbed blindly at the floor until she located her wand, and proceeded to the front door of Grimmauld Place. She had fallen asleep early that night, before Harry had come home, and figured it was him at the door. There were times when he couldn't find his wand even though it was in his back pocket, the stench of fire whiskey on his breath. As Hermione made her way to the foyer, however, she found Harry's boots on the floor and his cloak on the hook, which meant it wasn't him on the other side of that door.

She tightened her knuckles around her wand and leaned forward to look through the peephole. It would have been hard for an enemy to find them, and harder for said enemy to break through the wards and barriers that surrounded the house and hid it from plain sight, but it wasn't impossible. Hermione quietly breathed in, looking until she laid eyes on someone.

There was a wizard on her doorstep. Tall, thinly framed, dressed in a solid black cloak. His face was hidden underneath the hood. She would never have recognized him, had it not been for the fastener on his cloak in the shape of the letter N.

Hermione leaned away from the door to open it but her efforts were halted as a pair of footsteps approached her from behind. Ron made his way into the foyer, rubbing the fatigue from his eyes.

"What you doing?" he asked, tiredly.

"There's someone at the door," she reluctantly explained.

"Harry?"

"No, not Harry."

His mouth stretched into a yawn and he lazily approached the door to take a look. In a matter of miliseconds he was sobered awake, his eyes blinking wide as he glanced back at Hermione. "Is that —"

"Theodore Nott? I believe so." Hermione moved forward to unlock the door but Ron slapped her hand away. "Ouch! What was that for?"

"Oh, er — I don't know! The fact that you were about to let a Death Eater into our home?!"

"Calm down, will you? We both know he isn't a Death Eater."

"Fine, fine. Open the bloody door and let him in, but don't say I didn't warn you."

The brunette smiled at her boyfriend as she flicked her wand at the lock. "I won't."

Their heads turned to the door as it opened. On the other side stood a cloaked wizard, taller than Ron by an inch or two, and thinner. He lowered his hood and revealed to them a face they hadn't seen in quite a long time.

"Good morning," Theodore Nott said to both of them, dark circles around his eyes as though he hadn't slept in days. "I apologize for the hour of my visit but there is a matter at hand that I am to handle in a timely fashion."

Ron darted his eyes at Hermione, a worried look tugging at his face, as the brunette stepped forth to navigate the situation. By that point, both of them had noticed the box in Nott's hands and the envelope attached to it. The wax seal on the envelope was dark red and familiar, bearing the crest of the Advocates to the Wizarding World. The last time Hermione and Ron had laid eyes on that crest, was on the day Rufus Scrimgeour arrived at The Burrow to bestow upon them the contents of Albus Dumbledore's will.

There was a moment of silence before Hermione nodded and welcomed Theodore Nott into the house. She flicked her wand at the fireplace to reignite it, bringing light and warmth to the room as the three of them found their separate seats in the lounge.

The logs in the fireplace hissed and crackled in the background as Hermione waited. She tried to ignore the nerves in her chest. To her knowledge, her family and friends were safe and sound, but it was entirely possible that something had happened to one of them. Her parents … Ron's family … Neville … Luna … Hagrid … McGonagall … and countless others, more than half of whom she was ashamed to have lost touch with since the end of the war.

Hermione and Ron darted looks at each other as Nott placed the parcel on the coffee table.

"What have you got there?" Ron asked, steadily.

Nott looked at Ron as though he had only just realized the red-haired wizard was still there. "I'm afraid that's none of your business," he answered, fixing a look on Hermione. "If we could speak in private, Granger."

Ron snarled at that. "Not a chance, mate. I'm not going anywhere. You can speak to us together, or not at —"

"Ronald," Hermione calmly interjected, turning to look at him. "Go upstairs."

His bottom lip twitched. "But —"

"I'll be fine."

There was a flicker of debate in Ron's eyes but he listened to Hermione despite that. Instead of climbing upstairs and into his bedroom, however, he vanished into the kitchen where he could eavesdrop. There was no point in arguing it, Hermione knew. She breathed a sigh of acceptance and turned to look at Nott.

"Shall we proceed?" he asked.

She nodded. "Please do."

Without anymore preamble, he explained his purpose. "I am here to share with you the last will and testament of Draco Lucius Malfoy —"

Her stomach lurched.

Nott flicked a look at her using only his eyes before carrying on. " — witnessed and validated by the Advocates to the Wizarding World," he stated, carefully unfolding the parchment that he had withdrawn from the envelope, to read it. There was no time to wonder, no room to breathe or ask how. "To Hermione Jean Granger, I leave the contents of my personal library and the collection of rare and unique Quills that I was given for my eleventh birthday. It is my hope, Granger, that you part ways with the cheap feathers in your possession and embrace the elegance that I have bestowed upon you, in the event of my death. You are quite welcome. Signed, Draco … Lucius … Malfoy."

Silence.

There were countless thoughts running through her mind, a blend of questions pertaining to why, how, and when, but she hadn't the brain capacity to voice her concerns right at that moment. The only thing Hermione managed to say was, "I am so sorry for your loss." She met eyes with Nott. He and Malfoy had been friends at Hogwarts. The dark circles around his eyes suddenly made sense. "If there's anything I can do to h—"

Nott raised his hand to interrupt. "Thank you for your condolences, but that won't be necessary."

Hermione slowly fell silent and looked down in thought. The knot in her gut tightened as she was reminded of those words … the last will and testament of Draco Lucius Malfoy … and what led to them. Last she checked, the Wizengamot had pardoned Malfoy and his family after the war and took only a small percentage of their fortune as reparation. They were mostly untouched, but it seemed the fate of the youngest Malfoy, had taken an irreversible turn.

She looked to Nott. "What the hell happened to him?"

"Loads. The Wizengamot ordered Draco to identify the last of Voldemort's supporters and help locate them," Nott explained. "Three weeks ago, he let slip the address of Rodolphus Lestrange's hideout; a discovery that led to Rodolphus' unintended death during a raid. Rabastan, Rodolphus' younger brother, then decided to retaliate. There was no way for Draco or anyone on his side, to have known."

Her eyes welled up. It was no secret to anyone that she had been at odds with Malfoy during their days at school together, but to learn he had been killed, left her broken and wordless.

"The Quill set is in the parcel in front of you and the books are in a storage unit in Puddlemere," Nott furthered, reaching into his cloak, from where he withdrew a key. He placed it on top of the parcel and rose from the sofa. "Thank you for your hospitality. I'm afraid I must now leave."

Hermione shot up. "What? You can't. We — we've barely talked about —"

"I've told you everything I know," he cut in.

"No, you haven't. You haven't explained why he left me these things in his will. I wasn't a friend to him and he wasn't a friend to me. It doesn't make any sense."

"Who knows?" Nott shrugged. "Maybe he secretly fancied you. It doesn't matter anymore, though, does it?"

She followed him to the door. "Of course it matters. I can't believe you would say something like that. You were his best fr —"

"Yes, you're absolutely right. We were best friends, we grew up together, and now he's buried in the dirt somewhere, never to be seen or heard from again. Forgive me if I haven't the energy to stay here and speculate reasons as to why he left you some Quills and books in his will."

Hermione froze, the fire in her bloodstream dying out. "I … I'm so sorry. You've endured incredible loss, and here I am, bombarding you with questions."

Nott fixed a look on her, the indignant frown on his lips slowly fading as he opened the door. "If I had to guess, I'd say he respected you, Granger. You weren't friends and the only words he had ever spoken to you were biting and contemptuous, but he saw you as an equal and that is the truth. Take it for what you will."

She opened her mouth to say something but the only sound that escaped was a breath she had been holding for the past thirty seconds. Nott left through the front door and disappeared with a crack. Hermione watched, frigid winds traveling around her and into the house as Ron found her side.

"Should we tell Harry?" he asked.

"We have to," she uttered, turning away from the door, eyes glistening as she faced Ron. "How? How could this have happened? It was their job to protect him! I … I can't believe they would be so careless, so … so …"

The confusion and sadness clouded her vision as she stood by the door, breathing in Ron's warm, comforting scent as he hugged her. Until ten minutes ago, Malfoy had meant nothing to them, but his sudden, tragic death had come as both a shock and a reminder that the war was far from over. Voldemort was gone, but more than half of his followers were still out there and they would not stop, regardless of the obstacles that stood in their way.

It was a sobering realization and it gnawed at her subconscious the rest of the night.

Thanks for reading the first chapter. Reviews are always welcome and deeply, deeply appreciated. Please drop me a line if you feel so inclined.