A/N: Hello and welcome to "Rememory"! This is my very first fanfic so please give me feedback! I would love to improve in any way possible! Just an FYI, this story takes place the school year following the war and completely disregards the epilogue because I'm not a fan of the Hermione/Ron pairing; I'm a Dramione fan til I die! ENJOY!

CHAPTER ONE

Day One

"Is there something terribly interesting outside, Mr. Malfoy?"

My eyes lazily shifted from the new stained glass window of the Great Hall to the stern eyes of our guidance counselor. The professor, whose name I did not care to remember, stared me down and cocked an eyebrow, expecting an answer to which I did not give.

She tutted and then continued her discussion on how we needed to open up more to each other, but, most importantly, to her – a neutral party.

She paused her speech to call on someone.

"Pardon me, Professor Franklin, but I am incredibly curious about something." Hermione Granger's voice rang through the air with a hint of malice behind her seemingly polite words, "Why in the name of Merlin would we open up to you, a complete and utter stranger?"

I noticed Professor Franklin (thanks Granger for telling me that) flinch ever-so-slightly at the undertone Granger's voice held.

"The war affected me as well, Ms. Granger."

The snort that emitted from Granger was neither respectful nor lady-like before she retorted, "Oh I'm sure you Americans felt the impact of the war dreadfully. You were, what, three-thousand miles across the Atlantic Ocean? My word, it must have been so tough for you, huh, Professor Franklin? Meanwhile, everyone in this room was a part of the war. Voldemort tore our lives apart. We constantly lived in fear, no matter which side we were supposedly on. You want to know why? Because Voldemort was hosting a massacre in our own backyards. Then again, I'm sure you experienced the exact same thing, right, Professor?"

There was a collective gasp at the end of Granger's rant as Blaise and I glanced at each other with wide eyes and similar thoughts.

What the hell happened to Granger?

"I think you need to go to the Headmistress' office, Ms. Granger." Professor Franklin found her voice again, but there was a noticeable quiver.

Granger's face exploded into a conceited smirk, "Oh, Minerva and I will have a lovely chat."

She collected her purse off the bench seat, gave She-Weasley a pat on the back, and then strutted out of the hall with her shoulders straightened and chin held high. As she walked away, something struck me as odd. Her skirt was tight, tighter than I had ever seen. It reached mid-thigh and hugged her backside rather nicely, accentuating her round bottom. Her caramel brown hair reached the top of her skirt and it now fell in lovely curls down her back, looking nothing like the bushy hair I'd made fun of since first year. I would say she looked the best she ever had if it weren't for the deep, dark circles under her twinkle-less eyes, not that I'd been staring during supper the night before or anything. Perhaps it was odd because I'd never really taken the time to look at Granger before, aside from the Yule Ball our fourth year.

Another hand dared to raise after the extreme exit by Granger.

"Ms. Weasley," Professor Franklin called.

The red-head flipped through the pamphlet that was handed out at the beginning of the session before stating, "While looking through the syllabus, I noticed that it says we'll be using a Pensieve to view each other's memories, but how are all of us supposed to fit in one little Pensieve?"

Looking grateful for the interaction, Professor Franklin replied, "The other professors and myself have created a new sort of potion that everyone will drink before each memory that will allow them to view the memory that has been inserted into the Pensieve. Thank you for transitioning me into my next point, Ms. Weasley. Every other Monday, I will assign a word with which you will give me a memory. The memories will be due on Wednesday and viewing the memories will take place Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. The week following the memory viewing, we will discuss the memories and have little assignments that go with the word I have chosen. In other words, the class will revolve around one word for two weeks."

"What's the word for this week?" Blaise blurted out, not bothering to raise his hand.

Professor Franklin visibly huffed in annoyance before saying, "This week we're starting out easy. The word will be 'happiness'. You can choose any memory you wish pertaining to the word happiness. Ideally, you would use the memory that you use for your Patronus charm, if you are able to cast it."

Happiness?

Genuinely, I was at a loss. My mind has been so clouded lately with sadness and anger that happiness had not ventured into my thoughts for ages. This was supposed to be an easy one; why not start out with 'dread' or 'remorse' or, better yet, 'self-hatred'? Those would be much more pliable options than damned happiness.

Apparently, my usual stoic facial expression had slipped slightly because a snide Seamus Finnigan commented, "Does poor little Malfoy not have any happy memories with his mommy and daddy Death Eaters?"

Before I could even choose to ignore him, She-Weasley slapped him on the back of the head, "Seamus, shut your bloody mouth."

"Are you defending this piece of trash, Ginny?" He accused, outraged. "What would Harry say?"

Her jaw clenched, her eyes flared, "Harry, in case you have forgotten, is an incredibly compassionate and kind human being who has had to overcome so much in his short life. So, I doubt he would be mad that I was defending Malfoy against your incredibly rude and inconsiderate words which have no place here, especially after we just fought a fucking war to stop prejudice."

Finnigan rolled his eyes and then turned back to the front of the class where Professor Franklin was answering other student's questions. I glanced at She-Weasley to find her giving me an appraising look. Out of thanks, I gave her a stiff nod. She returned a small, quaint smile and then returned her eyes to Professor Franklin.

"What the fuck was that?" Blaise asked, whispering beside me.

I shrugged, just as confused as him, before saying, "I have no bloody clue. She-Weasley has always been pretty cool, you have to admit."

"Cool and hot aren't really the same thing, mate." Blaise snorted before patting my shoulder, "She's dating Potter. You'd think she'd have a vendetta against you, too."

The rest of the class passed rather dully; no other outbursts, no dramatic exits, zilch. When the period ended and everyone was filing out, Professor Franklin reminded us of our memories being due Wednesday and she asked that someone inform Granger, to which She-Weasley volunteered.

Blaise and I took our time to leave the hall, not wanting to be tangled up in the crowd. We both had Advanced Potions next, so we made our way down to the dungeons to Professor Slughorn's room. The class was bound to be small, not many people cared enough about the subject to expand their knowledge.

"Do you think Granger will be here?" I blurted out without thinking. "I mean, do you think she'll be out of McGonagall's office?"

Blaise spared me a sideways glance before saying, "I'm sure she'll be here. McGonagall wouldn't punish her star pupil and Granger would never miss the first day of Potions."

I nodded and didn't meet his gaze before pushing into the classroom ahead of him. The dank room only housed about five people so far and I reckoned not many more would be showing up. Blaise and I took our normal seats in the back that we reserved since first year.

The bell rang just as Granger stormed in and sat in the desk directly in front of Blaise and me. She looked a little flustered, perhaps a little angry, but ultimately the same as this morning. A few moments later, Slughorn appeared from behind his office door and into the classroom.

"Hello hello hello everybody!" He began merrily, "I trust everyone had a fantastic summer."

"Oh yes, just super." Granger huffed under her breath, allowing only Blaise and I to hear.

I scoffed and agreed non-verbally. Did he forget that the Final Battle literally just happened in May and Hogwarts was barely repaired enough for this school year to even take place? Or did he forget that trial after trial after trial was taking place to put Death Eaters and accomplices behind bars?

"Nonetheless," Slughorn continued happily, despite the unimpressed atmosphere, "you lot are the brightest potioneers in this establishment and I am here to make sure all of you pass your O.W.L.S. with flying colors! But first, I would like to know why all of you are taking this class, seeing as how it is not required in any way, shape, or form to graduate?"

He started at the front of the class where most answers were that it looked better to employers if it was on a resume, which was definitely true, but bland. Another answer was wanting to challenge themselves, but those were the only two answers until Granger.

"Miss Granger," Slughorn greeted her with an exuberant grin, "I am just tickled that you are taking my class! Tell me, why haven't your equally interesting friends, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, returned this year?"

Granger's fake smile was so plastic it must have physically pained her to do, "Harry and Ron both decided that they were ready to start their careers and the Auror Department offered them both jobs right after the war."

Slughorn clapped with glee, "And what about you, Miss Granger? Were you not offered the same thing?"

"Actually," Granger said sugar-sweetly, "I was offered the same position, plus several positions throughout the Ministry, but I am not particularly fond of fighting nor am I fond of an office job so I decided to come back to Hogwarts to complete my education."

"And what do you hope to do once leaving Hogwarts?"

"I'm going to become a Healer." She replied, her grin turning slightly more genuine. "I want to help people, sir."

"Oh how magnificent!" Slughorn chortled, "You are quite the young lady, Miss Granger!"

Subliminally, I had to agree with the portly man. Becoming a Healer can be incredibly difficult. The schooling after Hogwarts is horrendous with four extra years, not to mention admittance into the St. Mungo's Healing Academy is about 5%. From there, out of a class of twenty incoming students, only three to four become certified Healers. The others simply become nurses or have to try again the following year.

With a significantly less impressed glance, Slughorn turned his attention to Blaise and I.

"Mr. Malfoy, what do you hope to accomplish after Hogwarts?"

I met his dissatisfied gaze with hardened eyes, "I'm hoping to open a potions business, sir."

A look of surprise crossed his face. He, like so many others, must have assumed I was only back at Hogwarts to complete my probation and then I would flee the country and live off my family's endless amounts of money.

"How curious," Slughorn remarked before looking at Blaise, "and you, Mr. Zabini?"

"I'm going to partner in Draco's potions business, sir."

"Well it is certainly a good thing you both are taking Advanced Potions then." He replied and returned to the front of the classroom to begin his lecture.

As everyone went to grab the supplies from the closet after Slughorn's lesson, I felt Granger's eyes on me. Every time I would try to meet her gaze, she would look away pettily. When I finally caught her eyes and held contact with them, it seemed like neither of us could look away. Her head was quirked to the side and her eyes held confusion. Blaise's irate voice finally broke our gazes.

"Draco, mate, have you stirred this in the past minute at all?"

Fuck.

I glanced down at the potion, which was supposed to be a bright yellow color, but instead looked like a charcoal gray.

"No, I haven't." I huffed and ran a frustrated hand through my hair, "Fuck, Blaise, I'm sorry. We're about to flunk our first fucking potion when the big Slug hates us already. Fucking fantastic."

Suddenly, a small, delicate hand touched my shoulder as Granger set a vial full of bright yellow liquid down in front of us.

We looked up at her, bewildered, but all she offered was a small head motion to go turn it in and a quaint smile.

I looked around the room and none of the other students seemed to notice our interaction, being too consumed by their own potions, and Slughorn was behind his desk reading, what looked like, a romance novel.

"What about you, Granger?" Blaise asked with a concerned look. "It's not your fault that Draco here totally mucked up our work!"

"I've always made extra, especially since I usually worked near Harry and Ron, or Neville, who all tend to need a little help from time to time." She shrugged as if it were no big deal.

She turned to go back to her station, but before she could get to far my hand reached out to grab her by the forearm, effectively stopping her.

"Thank you, Granger."

Surprise raced across her face before she replied, "No problem, Malfoy. I'm happy to help."

Blaise grabbed the perfectly brewed potion Granger deposited on our desk and quickly scribbled our names on it, before turning it into the basket.

"What the bloody hell is going on today?" He whispered to me with a quizzical stare.

Equally confused, I responded, "I have no fucking idea."

A/N: I know pretty much everyone seems a little OC in this chapter, but I feel like the characters must have changed drastically after the war and that obviously wasn't touched upon very much given that the seventh book ends right after the war and then skips to the epilogue. War definitely changes people and I wanted some to change for the better and others for the worse. Message me for any questions/comments/concerns! Have a great day :-)