Below will be a collection of short stories following our characters throughout their time at Hogwarts and beyond. The stories will be labeled with the year each took place. My mind began mixing up the real books with fanfictions and movies so please excuse any non-canon moments.

First year was misunderstandings based on stereotypes between school houses.
Second year was division based on the deep rooted false claim of blood status superiority.
Third year was physical confrontation
Fourth year was the blossoming of a relationship due to a mutual friend.
Fifth year was the strain due to figures of authority and hiding of their love.
Sixth year was betrayal and tears as the hardest decision was made to protect each other.
Seventh year was lying for the sake of the cause and the final defeat.

Fourth year:

Stupid Ron. Stupid Harry for being friends with stupid Ron. She was stupid. She must have been ridiculous to believe Ron would grow up. Ridiculous to think all the moments shared between them was real. If he wanted and believed them to be just friends then fine, have it his way. His loss. She wasn't going to let some idiotic emotional stunted chil-

"Hermy-own-ninny,"

Hermione jumped at the sound of her horribly pronounced name. Before turning around, she hastily wiped at the tears stinging her eyes, praying she wasn't smudging the makeup she took hours to perfect. She forced a smile onto her lips and looked up at Viktor. He had gone to fetch them drinks as the Yule Ball was fast approaching the end. The band had announced the last song and weary people were leaving the Great Hall and slowly going back to their respective dorms.

Viktor had made tonight magical. From the first moment they saw each other, to dancing in front of everyone, until just now when Hermione was trying to introduce her friends to Viktor in a civil manner. Ron had been talking non-stop about Viktor since he had walked through the Great Hall doors at the beginning of the school year, and it wasn't until she showed up with him at the Yule Ball that he suddenly didn't want to meet his supposed quidditch hero. Hermione reminded herself that Ron was the bad guy here and Viktor had been nothing but a gracious and mindful date.

"I'm sorry about that Viktor," she responded hastily as Viktor looked at where the two boys disappeared, the drinks for their group still in his hands. "I guess both Harry and Ron were tired. Perhaps next time," she said, hating that even now she still covered for Ron's rude behavior. Viktor handed her one of the drinks and set two, one for Harry and one for Ron, down on a corner table. He took a sip of his own.

"Vould you join me in a valk outside?" He asked in his heavily accented English.

Hermione nodded and the two walked through to the courtyard where the last of the party goers were split into groups of two and three, quietly whispering about the drama from the night. They had walked to the edge of the courtyard and were looking out over the grounds when Viktor suddenly began to look nervous, hastily glancing around and moving his hands as if he wasn't sure what to do with them.

"What's wrong, Viktor?" Hermione rested against one of the courtyard windows, careful not to lean on anything dirty in her dress robes. It was then that she realized they were alone and out of earshot from any of the other students or teachers. Her stomach clenched as she processed the situation. Viktor was much older than her. Stronger. More advanced. But surely he wouldn't try to do anything against her wishes.

"I haff a confession," Viktor said as he seemed to spot something or someone at the edge of the forest. "I like you Hermy-own-ninny as a friend. Someone else asked me to take you to the ball." He looked down as if ashamed momentarily but then looked up as if determined to complete the mission he had set out to do. Hermione waited for him to finish.

"That person is over there," he gestured to the forest where the figure stood. Hermione turned and squinted but couldn't make out any distinguishable features. "He is worried. He says you haff a bad relationship in the past. He wants to apologize and be friends now."

Hermione swallowed. A secret admirer? What is this ridiculous romantic novel nonsense. It didn't make sense. Her eyebrows stitched together as she looked back at Viktor with a quizzical look.

"Why are you helping him?"

"He is a friend. Friends help each other." Viktor replied with a shrug of his square shoulders. He gestured again toward the figure. "Go please now."

Hermione eyes returned to the figure who seemed to be pacing nervously now, still hidden by shadows. Her mind began to race fast with possibilities. Who was it? Why wouldn't the person just speak to her directly or ask her to the ball? Why go through Viktor? Who is so close with Viktor that he would feel comfortable making such a request?

Without even realizing it, Hermione had straightened up from where she had been leaning, nodded a quick goodbye to Viktor, and began walking as if floating to the edge of the forest.

She was 100 meters away. Still no identifying features to be seen. Her mind tumbled with possibilities. Maybe Ron had prepared something like this for after the ball. But no, he had never even spoken to Viktor.

75 meters away. She could see the person had short hair and wearing black stylish dress robes. Perhaps Harry? But then they were always alone together and there wasn't a reason for secrecy. Unless he didn't want Ron to know. However, Viktor had said she and the person had a bad relationship in the past. She and Harry were best friends. It couldn't be him.

50 meters away. Was that…blond hair? The moon, unusually large and bright for this time in the moon cycle, must be playing tricks on her eyes. But the only person she knew who had hair that color was…

"Mal-Malfoy?"

"Granger," the person said. She had heard that voice say her name countless times, but never in this tone. Never so unsure as if she might run away upon hearing it. In fact, she had to stop herself from running away.

Instead, she came up to him now and confirmed, it wasn't the moonlight playing tricks. Malfoy stood there in his sharp clean black dress robes, his tie loose and askew around his collar. His white blond hair, no longer slicked back from the ball, was hanging softly around his eyes. It gave him a casual vibe compared to his usual uptight persona. His eyes were the most surprising. There was no hint of malice or hate. Rather, the pools of light grey were soft.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked and immediately began looking at the edges of the forest for potential threats. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No. It's not." Malfoy gave a small frustrated sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. His hand ended up on the back of his neck which he massaged as he looked away from her for a moment. Was that embarrassment Hermione spotted?

"I asked Viktor to help me out tonight because I thought that after three and a half years it was time you and I came to a truce." He sucked in a breath and looked at Hermione with worry in his eyes. "I know our relationship hasn't been the best these years at Hogwarts, and I want to formally apologize for the horrible behavior I have exhibited."

It was unreal. While Malfoy was talking, Hermione pinched lightly at the skin of her elbow to ensure she hadn't fallen down and hit her head or drank some "special" punch at the Yule Ball. She stared at him, lost for words. In what alternate universe had she passed through where Malfoy was apologizing to her? It seemed like a set up to a huge joke that she didn't understand.

"B-B-But, you're a Malfoy!" Hermione exploded still not believing what she was hearing. "You're always on about how pure bloods are better and how Harry, Ron, and I are the worst."

Malfoy's jaw tightened.

"I said a truce with you. Not with those two bird brains."

Hermione felt light headed suddenly. A few meters away was a tree stump. She stumbled over to it and dropped down. To hell with trying to be lady like and not messing up her dress robes. She fretfully brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"So, you want to be…friends?"

"Well, yes. Sort of," Malfoy sat down as well, his back to hers so that she couldn't see his face. "You'll see I'm not actually a bad guy. I just have a lot of expectations on me to act a certain way."

"Which is why we had to meet secretly?"

"Yes," Malfoy sighed again and flicked at a bug which had landed on his knee.

"There's something I still don't understand," Hermione said, turning around. Malfoy turned at the same moment and they were face to face, the closest they had ever been before. He was close enough that she could see his eyelashes. Close enough that she could feel his breath on her skin. Close enough that her heart gave a little flutter. "Why me? Two years ago, with the Chamber of Secrets, you were wishing me to be next to die." She willed her voice to be strong as she suddenly felt breathless by the smell of his cologne.

"I was 12! My father told me bad things were going to happen and I was tasked with stirring up fear. I was just trying to please him," Malfoy stated, with a bitter look and a wrinkle of his nose. "I didn't know there would be real lives at stake." He shook his head defeatedly.

"If you don't want to, then fine," He stood up suddenly and began brushing off his dress robes. "I thought you would be reasonable and willing to forgive me of my past behavior, but I guess that was just me being stupid." He turned to go.

"No! Wait"

Malfoy stopped and turned around, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Hermione stood up, trying to steady herself on legs that had become jelly. She lifted her chin and clenched her jaw.

"I accept your apology…..Draco." Hermione stuck out her hand sharply between them. It hung in the air for a second before he clasped it in his own and shook firmly. Hermione tried to ignore how soft and warm his hand felt in her own. She dismissed the zip of electricity when they touched as charge in the air from the night cold.

"Hermione." Draco said. Was it just her or was the handshake a few heartbeats too long?

She pulled back her hand swiftly and used it to wrap her dress robes closer to her body. She coughed lightly.

"So, um, I guess we should head back to the castle. People may be wondering where we are," her voice trailed as she thought about how she had yelled at her two friends to go to bed and leave her alone.

"Yeah," Malf-Draco said looking toward the waning lights of the Great Hall. There were no figures in the courtyard now. It was well past midnight, and all students must have returned to their dorms by now. Draco and Hermione began to walk slowly back toward the castle. When they were about to enter the courtyard, Draco suddenly topped and cleared his throat. Hermione turned back to him with an eyebrow raised.

"I would appreciate if you don't mention this to Potter or the Weasel," Draco said, his eyes scanning the courtyard. "And, while we do have this truce in place, I hope you do realize that to the masses, I will need to act the same."

"You mean, you will still act like a pompous ass in public?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"Then, you do realize that I will need to still call you out for being a pompous ass in public," Hermione said and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling.

"I would expect nothing less," Draco responded with a small smirk. His eyes shone bright with excitement.

Was that a flirtation? Surely that was impossible. But then again, this night had been full of surprises that she could hardly believe.

"Then good night…ferret," Hermione said, her words dripping in mockery.

"Oh…It will be good, Granger."

Draco stood still and gestured for Hermione to leave first. Hermione turned on her heel and walked back towards the Great Hall entrance. Of course, they couldn't walk in together. Everyone in the school knew of the feud between the Golden trio and the Slytherin Prince (the title someone had written for him on a bathroom stall door). When Hermione reached the lights of the entrance, she turned around to be sure she hadn't imagined it all. He was still there, watching her walk away. She was tempted to smile and wave but was unsure just what this truce meant. Why did it matter that in private there was a truce when in public everything would be as it had always been? What was Malf-Draco planning? Was it something she had to be wary of? Hermione's thoughts continued to swirl as she began walking up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room. By the time she reached the frame of the fat lady she was determined to ask Draco more about what his intentions were behind the truce.