A/N: Ahhh, and here we are again to begin the next step in Hermione & Draco's journeys. If you have not already read it, I strongly recommend reading the first story in this trilogy, The Breaking of Draco Malfoy, which explains how exactly we got from the end of the war to Draco living among Muggles and Hermione believing she might travel to Australia only to learn of her parents' deaths.

For those hopeless romantics who saw Draco & Hermione on the last story and have waited patiently for their OTP to come to pass, this installation is for you.

Unlike the last story, this one is only partially written, so it's going to take just a bit longer to post. As always, positive and constructive reviews feed the Muse.

Disclaimer #1: JK Rowling, Scholastic/Bloomsbury, & Warner Brothers own the characters, recognizable spells, etc. I own everything else except where denoted.

Disclaimer #2: I speak four words of French: bonjour, merci, oui, and pomme. I've attempted to research the French used here, but chances are it's abysmal and I apologize for that.

All of that said, without further ado I present The Breaking of Hermione Granger.

Hermione

In the end, it took intervention by the headmistress to pry Hermione Granger away from the Hogwarts library before the Hogwarts Express left for London. As Hermione stood near the tables where she spent seven years pouring over some light reading, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

"Miss Granger, you have to leave," the headmistress said, not unkindly.

Hermione spun to face the fearsome and elegant witch, with her arms held across her torso. "I don't want to." She looked up at the cavernous ceiling and closed her eyes, as if she could breathe in whatever it was she needed. Knowledge wasn't what she sought anymore, but certainty. The moment she stepped onto Platform 9 ¾, her world and her future in it would be precarious at best; calamitous at worst. Here, in the heart of the Hogwarts library, things were neat and organized and mostly predictable.

By the end of the day, nothing in her life would be predictable anymore.

"Miss Granger, many students have walked through these halls and ended their tenancy exactly where you're standing. Hogwarts is home for all of us. When you leave here, you will establish a new home for yourself and this place will become a fond memory." Professor McGonagall peered at Hermione over her spectacles. "However, between you and I, if you never feel quite settled anywhere else, Hogwarts would be honoured to have you back."

A storm of emotions whirled through Hermione as she was overwhelmed at the implication she could find employment here if all else failed. Not that she anticipated failing in her professional pursuits, but she hadn't looked much past the challenge of finding her parents for months. To know that something solid waited for her on the other side was a comfort she hadn't known she needed.

"Thank you, Professor." Hermione dropped her arms to her side and awkwardly twisted one foot behind the other. "May I...?"

Professor McGonagall nodded with a small smile and Hermione crossed to give the woman a hug that expressed all the gratitude she felt for the many little and big ways Professor McGonagall had helped her through the last eight years. When she pulled back, she saw the hint of tears pooling at the edges of her mentor's eyes.

"Good luck, Hermione," Professor McGonagall whispered.

With that final goodbye, Hermione ducked out of the library and met her friends on the steps of the school where they waited to catch a carriage.

Ginny Weasley flipped long red hair behind her shoulders with a knowing smirk and tugged down one sleeve of her Muggle t-shirt. "I told you McGonagall would have to exorcise her from the library," the woman said to the gathered cluster of Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbott, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Daphne Greengrass.

"How did you know it was McGonagall in the library?" Hermione asked with a faint grin.

Justin tapped his cane on the flagstones as a smile flashed across his battle-scarred face. The left side of his smile could only reach so far before what remained of his left cheek was nothing but scar tissue. "Wait, I know this. McGonagall, in the library, with the candlestick."

The four pure-bloods looked puzzled as Hermione shook her head in amusement. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about," she retorted.

"Is this a Muggle-born thing?" Hannah asked. Her blonde ponytail whipped behind her head and she looked between Justin and Hermione.

"It's a Muggle game." Justin playfully bumped Daphne with his shoulder. The brunette, whose war scars were hidden beneath immaculate forest green robes, evaluated her boyfriend with a raised eyebrow. "Now that we're out of school, I think we should take the time to give these folks a proper Muggle education. What say you, Hermione?"

High from her brief conversation with the headmistress, Hermione nodded. "Yes. Once I get back from holiday, we should set something up."

The other five agreed with varying levels of enthusiasm. They set off for the carriages, keeping a slow pace on account of Justin's lamed left leg, which he earned from a curse during the Battle of Hogwarts alongside his other scars. Of the six friends crossing the grounds of Hogwarts for the final time, Justin's scars were the most numerous and the most visible, and he wasn't even supposed to be in the fight.

Hermione glanced over at Justin and Daphne several times, marvelling at the changes their eighth year had wrought. A Hufflepuff/Slytherin union was nearly unheard of, but a Muggle-born Hufflepuff/pure-blood Slytherin pairing was grounds for family disownment—just ask Andromeda Tonks.

The pair had been defying stereotypes and prejudices since October, but while Hogwarts' student body eventually accepted them, their challenges were just beginning. From the few comments Daphne had made about her post-Hogwarts life, Hermione knew her parents expected her to marry another pure-blood. Hermione hoped against hope that the Greengrasses would eventually accept Justin into their lives, but the odds were realistically small. Blood prejudice still existed in the wizarding world. Justin and Daphne would be up against an entire culture soon enough.

But for now, they could all pretend that bigotry was a myth and Muggle game nights would bridge the gap between their worlds. Hermione allowed herself to dream alongside her friends for as long as it took to traverse the train tracks from Hogsmeade to London. For the first time since finding out her parents had inexplicably left Perth nine months ago, she allowed herself to imagine the future.

An implicit offer to work at Hogwarts and Muggle game nights; two things Hermione didn't know she needed, but nevertheless anchored her to the future she couldn't see. As she watched the countryside race outside the window of the Hogwarts Express, she idly wondered if that would be the theme of the next stage of her life.

Harry held out a velvet pouch with a certain fierceness. The determination on his face was reminiscent of his trial with the Hungarian Horntail during the Triwizard Tournament. Hermione would have found it entertaining if she wasn't so peeved. "Hermione, take the money."

"Absolutely not. I can fend for myself."

The black-haired man stared her down with one of the new dictatorial stares he learned in Auror training. "This isn't Horcrux hunting. You aren't going to make camp at some forest, partly because the closest forest is like a million miles from Perth. Plus, everything in Australia is determined to kill you, and the wizarding world needs you alive. You'll need food and lodging for who knows how long, and I know you won't use your award money from your Order of Merlin because you'll want to keep it as a nest egg for the next eight hundred years." When Hermione kept her arms folded and lips pursed, Harry Summoned her endless beaded bag. Amid her screeching protests, he shoved the pouch into the bag. "If I didn't allow the twins to turn down my Triwizard winnings, I'm not going to let you turn down a few pounds meant for your own well-being."

Hermione snatched her bag from Harry's hands and began rooting through it for the pouch. "A thousand pounds is more than a 'few', Harry James." She pulled out the red velvet pouch and removed bundles of banknotes. "I don't need the money and you've already done more than I should have ever asked you to. I can't accept this."

"It's rude to turn down a gift."

She ignored Harry's protests and counted out the notes she'd laid on the newly varnished kitchen table of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. "I will take half of it. Okay?" Hermione added another bundle. Convinced she'd removed exactly five hundred pounds, she sighed and put the remaining money into her beaded bag.

Harry rolled his bright green eyes and transferred the rejected cash to his own extended purse, a slightly-illegal gift from Hermione the previous Christmas (Harry-the-Auror chided her for unauthorized use of the Undetectable Extension charm; Harry-the-best-friend found it hilarious that the war turned him into the rule-follower and Hermione into the rule-breaker). "How are you getting to Perth?"

Hermione secured the beaded bag under her long t-shirt. "I have a Portkey to Sydney tomorrow afternoon. I'll likely take a bus from there." She gave Harry her best 'I've-got-this' stare to signal the end of the conversation. "Are you ready to go to the Burrow?"

Her exasperated best friend gestured to the hall. "After you."

They Apparated to the Burrow for a celebratory/goodbye dinner. Ginny had completed her first Chaser audition with the Holyhead Harpies and been called back for a second tryout involving the Chasers already on the team. After she and Harry congratulated the youngest Weasley, Hermione turned her attention to the rest of the guests.

"Daphne!" Hermione said in surprise, hugging the willowy brunette. "I didn't know you were coming."

Daphne gave a controlled smile that softened her blue eyes. She rarely showed more emotion than the minimum required to communicate her thoughts. Hermione found her friend's careful expressiveness endearing and admirable. "We wanted to see you off before you went on holiday, and Ginny threatened to hex us if we didn't congratulate her on the audition."

"Justin's here?"

"And Astoria and Neville. Hannah had to work."

Familiar warmth filled Hermione's chest. She was beginning to suspect she would never get over the excitement she felt at all four Hogwarts houses getting along. Daphne's younger sister Astoria was a soon-to-be seventh year Ravenclaw who was as kind and clever as anyone could hope for. She also had an affinity for cats and offered to watch Crookshanks while Hermione was 'on holiday'. Crookshanks was far more amenable to the idea of Greengrass Manor over living at Grimmauld Place with Harry.

The two young women headed into the Weasleys' drawing room, where Justin and George Weasley were trading Hogwarts stories to the obvious entertainment of the youngest Greengrass. Neville pinked as George told the story of the first time Neville unwittingly ate a Canary Cream and moulted all over the Gryffindor common room.

"Our common room was quite a dangerous place whenever the Weasley twins were present," Hermione summed up. George beamed as Hermione rolled her eyes. "I seem to remember banning you from testing the Skiving Snackboxes on first years, which led to you and Fred perfecting the art of projectile vomiting."

"Too right you are, Minnie," George said with a wink.

Hermione let out an exasperated hiss. "I told Fred not to—does anyone have a Basilisk handy? I have a ghost I need to Petrify." Since learning Fred Weasley was a ghost at Hogwarts, Hermione and the deceased twin had struck up a tenuous friendship. She'd given him explicit instructions not to let anyone else call her 'Minnie' after he started calling her by the nickname in February.

Justin blanched at the joke and Daphne gave Hermione a warning look. That was another of the Slytherin's admirable qualities: she was quick to berate anyone who made light of another person's pain. Hermione cringed as she remembered that Justin had been Petrified during their second year after viewing the Basilisk through Nearly-Headless Nick.

"Sorry," she said.

With an absent wave of his cane, he shrugged off the memory. "Better to joke about it. I mean, if I can joke about this—" he gestured to his cursed leg, "—what's an altercation with a little snake?"

Neville and George snorted. "'Little snake'," George mused. He turned a serious stare to Hermione. "Jokes aside, you take my twin from me again and we'll both haunt you."

The reunion of the twins had been painful for the first few weeks. George spent the better part of a fortnight buried in bottles of top-shelf Firewhisky and flasks of some alcoholic potion he'd created with his elder brother, Charlie. An intervention by none other than Professor McGonagall and Molly Weasley had set the man straight. The twins were four weeks into reconciling with their new reality and George looked better than he had in a year.

Hermione held up her hands. "I promise not to make any more jokes for the rest of the night."

"Excellent," George said. "Your sense of humour is rubbish. Toffee?"

Ginny sat on the edge of Hermione's makeshift bed at the Burrow. The sun was coming in through the window at an angle that made the youngest Weasley squint as she faced Hermione. "Today?"

"Today," Hermione confirmed, running through a mental checklist. She had packed a satchel to make it appear she was going on holiday. Harry's cash and her own Galleons remained in her beaded bag.

"You know if it wasn't for this thing with the Harpies, I would be coming with you."

"No, you wouldn't."

"Yes, I would, and you wouldn't be able to stop me."

Hermione peered around the room for anything she might have forgotten to pack. "Stubborn."

"I consider myself endearingly obstinate." Ginny pulled up the leg of her Muggle jeans to investigate the light scar from where Hermione had set her on fire a couple of months ago. As she traced her fingers over the pale skin, she shrugged. "You're going to send me status reports once a week. I had enough radio silence from you during the war."

"I'll mail you a postcard."

Ginny frowned. "What's a postcard?"

"Muggle thing. I'll ring you every Friday, how about?"

Ginny scrunched her nose. "On the telephone? Just owl me like a normal person."

"I'm not sending you an owl from Australia. The poor thing would collapse over the Indian Ocean." Hermione tucked her beaded bag into her larger book bag and sighed. "I think I'm ready." She twisted her hands and stared at a spot on a wall behind Ginny's bed.

"You'll find them, Hermione."

"But what if I don't? What if something happened? What if something happened to the Memory Charm and it drove them insane? What if Death Eaters found them and just never boasted about it? What if they got in a car crash or a plane crash or drowned at the Great Barrier Reef?"

"Either calm down or I'm going to force a Calming Draught down your throat."

"You don't have a Calming Draught," Hermione responded, still thinking of the hundreds of possible reasons her parents might have disappeared.

"No, but I can put you in a Body Bind. Your wandless magic won't do you much good then."

Hermione's breath caught. "Don't you dare."

"Then sit down and think about something else. What's the first thing you're going to do when you return their memories?"

"Cry," Hermione said honestly. "I don't know after that."

"Have you figured out what you're going to tell them about the war?"

The soft cotton of the baby pink quilt on her bed felt foreign under Hermione's fingers. She drew circles into the fabric. "I've thought about it, but nothing seems right. I have to tell them something, of course, otherwise they'll be angry with me for modifying their memories, but I don't know what. I'll tell them I had to protect them and that we won. I don't know if I'll say anything else. I'm not going to say anything about getting tortured or hunting Horcruxes. There are things they don't need to know."

"Are you going to tell them you dated three of the Weasley brothers in the span of a year?"

Hermione fought back a smirk and found a pillow to throw at Ginny. "I didn't date any of them except in your twisted version of reality."

Ginny blocked the assault and laughed. "Technically, you did go on a date with Percy—he's still confused as to why you stopped talking to him, by the way—, you were all touchy-feely with Ron for months, and then the whole Fred thing was just—"

"Friends. Fred and I are friends. Ron and I are friends. Percy and I are...I don't want to talk about it."

Ginny's eyes went wide and she leaned forward. "So something did happen with Percy. Do I need to hex him? Is there anything you can tell me or will I need to Obliviate myself afterward?"

"Nothing happened!" Hermione insisted. "It's just—Fred said—"

"So Fred's involved with this?"

"No? Yes? I just—." Hermione burned red, completely flustered. "Fred made a comment that it was interesting that Percy wanted to start dating after I was awarded the Order of Merlin, and it got me thinking—"

"That Percy's an opportunistic git who would see your status as a way to open doors for himself?" Hermione fell silent at the harsh, though accurate, assessment. Ginny nodded. "Well, you're right. That's exactly the kind of person he is. Didn't you see the way Mum always reacted seeing the two of you together?" Hermione gave a non-committal shrug. "She raised him. She knows what he's like. At the first sign of real trouble, she would have warned you off him."

Hermione chewed the inside of her lip with a frown. "I'm not sure what to think of that."

"Well, you don't need to think about it right now. Focus on finding your parents and worry about which of my brothers to date next later. You still have Charlie and George left to try out."

Hermione rolled her eyes and gently backhanded Ginny. "Thanks." She glanced at her wristwatch and sighed. "I think I'm going to head for the Ministry."

"Perfect." Ginny jumped to her feet. "I've been wanting to bother Harry at work and now I'll have an excuse."

"How am I your excuse, exactly?"

"Don't overthink it, Minnie."

Hermione groaned. "I'm going to find a way to strangle Fred."

"You can research how on your forty-five hour bus ride from Sydney to Perth. You should let Harry book you a Portkey-"

"I can figure this out without asking Harry for more favours."

Ginny folded her arms and stared down her friend. "It's Harry. It's not a favour when it comes from him. He wants to help you."

"And I need to do this myself." Hermione cast a Weightlessness Charm on her satchel and tossed it over her shoulder. "I'm ready."

"Are you sure?"

Hermione rolled her shoulders back and lifted her chin. "I have to be."