Hi all! New story! I still own nothing. I do have a birthday coming up though, ya know, if you need gift ideas.
Chapter 1
The war had been over for a year, and Hermione Granger had only just returned. The year had been spent dodging reporters, attempting to locate her parents, and failing to cope with the long term effects of battle. It wasn't just memories she relived day after day, but the physical pains that lingered from the curses cast. She knew so many who suffered worse fates, and knew she shouldn't dwell on her own experience. Sitting alone in the cemetery, she was reminded that she was still here while so many were gone.
Her finger traced first the F, then moved to the lowercase r, e, and d. Fred Weasley. He had died in the final battle, fighting valiantly alongside his older brother, Percy. The redheaded prankster had died with a smile on lips, one Hermione wished she could see just one more time.
"Fancy meeting you here."
Hermione turned, startled by the voice. It was a soft, cool drawl that was all too familiar. "Malfoy," she remarked. "What are you doing here? Looking for a way to bring back your master?"
Draco Malfoy scoffed and stood behind her. "Trust me, I'm just as happy that he's gone as you are," he replied.
"Then why are you here?" she asked angrily, turning to face him. "And why are you talking to me?"
Sitting down, he shrugged. "Who else am I going to talk to?" he wondered. "Everyone here is dead. Professor Snape is buried a few rows over. As far as I know, no one else ever visits his grave. It's usually overrun with weeds, or people throw trash on it. Do you know what I found today? Butterbeer bottles and crisp packages. Every couple of weeks I come by and clean it up. It's not much, but it's all can do for the man who saved my life. When did you get back?"
Hermione stared at him with wide brown eyes. "How did you know I was away?" she wondered.
Malfoy smirked. "Because Granger Watch has been a thing for the past 365 days," he replied, though she didn't believe him. From his bag, he tossed her the latest edition of The Daily Prophet. "You think I'm kidding?"
"No, I believed you," she muttered, as she scanned the front page. She had been back in England only hours, and Draco Malfoy was the only one who knew she had returned. "Guess you can make the announcement that Granger Watch can end."
He stared at the headstone. "Why?" he wondered. "Wouldn't you rather have your privacy?"
"You care what I want?" she asked skeptically.
Sighing, he ran a hand through his platinum blond locks and stared at the full moon. While the wizarding world wondered where Hermione Granger was, they kept themselves busy with stories about Draco and his family. They documented his prison time, the trial, his father's arraignment, who Draco was seen with, who his mother replaced his absent father with. He wished he could have disappeared as Hermione had.
"I know what it's like to be hounded by reporters," he told her. "So, what's Australia like?"
Hermione gathered her belongings and stood. "We're not friends, Malfoy," she stated. "Don't act like we are."
"I wasn't," he called after her. Not comfortable being alone in a graveyard, Draco got to his feet to leave. It wasn't until he reached the last row of headstones that he saw Hermione again. Her back was to him and her head was cradled in her hands. "Granger?"
Sniffling, she wiped her eyes and turned to face him, doing her best to glare. "What?" she asked. "Do you want to make fun of me? Tease me for crying? I'm so tired of crying, Malfoy. Can't you just let me do this in private?"
"I'm sorry," he murmured, resting a hand on her shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with crying over this. I'm not ashamed to admit that I've cried here plenty of times too. I'll leave you alone."
She watched him walk away. "I wasn't here," she said. Draco stopped and turned around to face her, quietly waiting for her to continue. "The second the fight was over, I was gone. I wasn't here when Fred and Tonks and Remus were buried. I wasn't here while my friends were grieving. Instead I went to Australia to find my parents. Harry and Ron would send me letters. They started out nicely - updates on friends who were hurt and the rebuilding efforts. After a few months, the letters from Ron got more and more angry. He told me he hated me for missing Fred's funeral, and said he never wanted to talk to me again. Harry stopped writing soon after that too."
Draco scoffed. "Those two," he muttered.
"Do you want to hear the worst part?" she said. "I found them. They were in Perth, and they looked so happy. They were happy without their memories of their trouble-making, freak of a daughter. They didn't have to lie about where I was or what I was doing. They didn't have to worry that something was going to happen to me. So, I just left them. They're Monica and Wendell Wilkins now, and they're happy. They don't know I exist, and they're finally happy. I'm alone, Malfoy, and it's my own fault."
Stepping closer, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "You're not alone, Granger," he promised.
"What? You're going to be my friend?" she asked incredulously.
Draco shrugged. "Why not?" he wondered. "You don't want to be alone. I am alone. I don't know. This seems like a good opportunity for the both of us to realize that we aren't the people we thought we were."
"So you're not an arrogant, racist, Pureblood git?" she inquired.
"That depends. Are you not a know-it-all bookworm who's never wrong?" he retorted.
Despite the tears that still clung to her lashes, Hermione smiled. "That's exactly what I am," she replied.
"I'm not racist," he told her. "The other three adjectives are mostly correct though. I'm working on it, Granger."
"You really believe that we could friends?" she asked, recalling the times he called her a mudblood and sent hexes her way. Her tongue touched her two front teeth. Madam Pomphrey had had to reduce their size when Malfoy had hit her with an enlarging jinx their fourth year.
Draco shrugged. "I think we could give it a shot."
