August 21, 1999

Hermione,

My darling, by the time you read this I will be well on my journey halfway across the world to try out life in America. I am sorry for going so far away. It would have been hard enough living as a Muggle in the UK, but to be so close to you and unable to see or talk to you would have killed me. This way I can continue to use magic and find my way in a new place. I imagine adapting to a new life there will take me a while. I am quite sure though that that is a false hope. Potter and the Minister told me of your efforts to change the minds of the Wizengamot but you know as well as I do that there is no way in hell the Ministry will ever allow a Death Eater to stay in the UK free to do as he pleases no matter how many times he may have fouled up the Dark Lord's plans especially since it wasn't purposefully most of those times. Being a Death Eater they are so convinced Imperiused one of their prime fighters, their golden girl, just seals my fate. So I suppose this is my goodbye.

Gods Hermione, I don't know how many times I've said that word to you during the years of this cursed war but I'm thoroughly sick of saying it and sick of believing it. Things will get better I promise. So let's not call this a goodbye, ok? Because we both know that no matter what it takes I will find my way back to you princess. Forget their laws and paranoia. I will stand by you always. I will see you again. So this isn't a goodbye. This is a "Be back soon." Whether it takes two years or twenty, we'll see each other before you know it. Until then, we'll have to try not to forget what we were. Promise me, my love, that you will not forget as I surely won't because it is all I have left.

I love you, Hermione. Remember that.

Yours,

Draco

Hermione was deep in the study of a book in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, hunched over chewing the end of her quill when the owl came swooping into the room. It circled trying to find a place to land amongst the towers of books some bright and shiny new others so old they were nearly crumbling. She didn't see it until settled down and hopped into the middle of the open book in front of her. Her first instinct was to shoo it away but she saw the parchment tied to its leg. Only then did she look up and realize that this was an eagle owl, eagerly she untied the parchment knowing the letter must be from Draco. She hadn't been able to see, speak, or even write to him since he had been arrested; nor could he contact her in any way.

His sentencing hearing must be complete. Her heart fell, all of this studying, her gaze ranged over the myriad of books and notes spread out before her. She was out of time. No, he was out of time. She hadn't found the answer. It was too late now. She could hear Kreacher grumbling about not being able to set the table for supper but ignored it in her rush to unroll the letter in her hand.

The first sight of his handwriting brought tears to her eyes, she swiped them away roughly and began to read though she dreaded his words, dreaded hearing his sentence. She thought they had come to a reasonable agreement, yet there was still the hidden fear. The color in her cheeks grew as she read, and her jaw began to ache as her teeth clenched tighter and tighter. After she reached the end the parchment dropped to the table as her hands flew up over her eyes and she doubled over. She began to shudder, her sobbing drawing Kreacher from the stove. He stood fumbling with a dishcloth in his hand, taking a step towards her then backing away, reaching out then pulling his hand back unsure of what to do. Madame had always wanted him to leave her alone completely when he was emotional but he had seen Miss Granger accept comfort from Master Potter and Mister Weasley. He finally manage to shove the dishcloth in her hand, then pat her back once before once more retreating to the stove.

Long minutes passed as she wept, calmed, read the letter again with bloodshot eyes, then began sobbing anew. It was the slamming of the front door that brought her out of her misery, shot her to her feet and sent her storming up the stairs to the entry hall.

"Harry," she bellowed as she ran.

He caught sight of her just as he moved to take a step up the stairs to his room, eyes redder than Ron's hair, parchment clutched in her hand, hair wilder than he'd seen it since before the Yule Ball. He took a deep breath and stood waiting, knowing she was in immense pain. Even if he couldn't understand it, he would be there for her, the one friend who had never abandoned him and was always on his side. He would be by hers.

"What the bloody hell happened?" she seethed.

"I -" but he could get no further because she broke in.

"I thought they had agreed to simply limit his magic and allow him to stay at the Manor, a house arrest of sorts, and now," she cried in a tight voice brandishing the letter, waving it in his face ignoring him as he flinched away, "he tells me he's going to America."

Harry took her gently by the arm and led her into the sitting room, steering her into a curved chair near the fireplace, speaking quietly the whole way, "Hermione, we knew that was a long shot. Kingsley agreed to it, felt it was appropriate considering the circumstances and took it to the Wizengamot, but there was push back in the court from those that lost people in the war. Katie Bell's parents testified about her time in St. Mungo's. Madame Rosmerta was called in."

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard before looking up at him and daring to ask, "Ron?"

"He answered the questions as honest and clearly as he could, without adding anything personal," Harry turned staring off into the distance rather than meet her eyes, "He may hate Malfoy, but he still cares for you. Hurting you isn't something he can bring himself to do, not purposely anyway."

Her eyes narrowed and brow creased as she retorted, "Oh no he would never try to hurt me purposely, he's so damned good at doing it accidentally," when Harry didn't respond she continued hoarsely, "He still thinks he has a chance with me."

It was a statement, not a question but Harry answered as if it were, "Maybe, I don't know. Maybe he was just trying to be a good friend. Or maybe he's trying to be the objective witness they're teaching us to be in Auror training," he peered at her from the corner of his eye. "Anyway it didn't matter, the Bells were really all the court needed. We tried. I told the court about his not identifying me at the Manor, lowering his wand when he had Dumbledore cornered and wandless on the tower. Luna and Mr. Ollivander both told how he brought them extra food and would check on them whenever he could while they were being held at the Manor. Neville took the stand and testified that when the Carrows insisted the seventh years perform the Cruciatus on first and second years as punishment that while Crabbe and Goyle seemed to relish the duty no one else did. He said that Gryffindor first years came back from sessions with Draco or other students in much better shape that they were faking it. Ginny gave nearly identical testimony as Nev. The fact that he did what he did to protect his mother was brought up and summarily dismissed by many of the members."

"Pompous twats who sat on their arses cowering while the rest of us fought. Like they wouldn't do anything to save their own families," she huffed.

He nodded, "Yes. That was also mentioned but of course it was met with a chorus of denial. Really like I said the Bells were all they needed. They felt, as many do, that the Wizengamot had been too easy on Death Eaters last time, letting too many of them get away. Letting too many of them make deals, claim to be Imperiused. They insisted that was why so many of them were free to join Voldemort again this time. They want to squash any future dark magic rebellions"

"They're punishing him for what his father did in the first war. Sending Lucius to Azkaban this time isn't enough, correcting the mistake they made before isn't enough "she stood up and began stalking back and forth in front of the fireplace, voice rising with each pass until she was nearly screaming, "They're being harder on him because they let Lucius weasel his way out of prison last time. They're not just punishing him for his own actions, they're punishing him for the actions of his father," her voice began to crack in anger and frustration.

Harry shrugged, "In part," was all he said, unwilling to say aloud what she already knew.

"Me," she said quietly,defeated, her shoulders drooping head hanging she sank back into the chair. "It's me. They're punishing him because of me. He said they think he Imperiused me." Again she waved the letter in the air.

Harry simply nodded then turned and went to the side table pouring two glasses of Firewhiskey. He crossed again and handed her one, "May I?" he asked gesturing to the letter.

She handed it to him sitting back in the chair staring at the glass he had placed in her hand.

"Drink it," he urged, downing his and setting aside then beginning to read. When he finished he knelt on the floor at her feet returning the letter to her, "I won't pretend to understand Mione. You never told us. You never said a word. If we had only known how you felt."

She sat forward in the chair shaking her head, "You wouldn't -"

He held up a hand that he then ran through his already messy hair when she stopped speaking, "You're right. We wouldn't have understood. We, well Ron certainly, would have thought Draco had Imperiused you just as so many members of the court believe."

She laughed harshly rolling her eyes, "Harry you're the one that insisted he was a Death Eater from the beginning of sixth year. You were the one that insisted he had taken the Dark Mark. And yes you were right," she rushed to add before he could speak, "but you would never have believed that I loved him of my own free will. You would never have believed he loved me, that he could love me, after all I am a Mudblood."

He winced at her casual easy use of the word, "Hermione don't say that."

"Why not? It's like Dumbledore encouraging us to call him Voldemort rather than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Words have power only when we give it to them. If I use Mudblood and other Muggle borns do to, if we take ownership of it maybe they'll see that it doesn't mean anything. Besides maybe they don't all actually say Mudblood, maybe they're polite enough to say Muggle born but it's what they believe isnt' it. I had to be under a curse. He has to have fooled me. But this," she looked down laid the letter on her lap and began running her hands over it, smoothing out the wrinkles and creases she had put into it from clutching it so tightly in her fist, she nearly whispered, "this is the proof. And still no one would believe this would they?"

Harry took the glass that she clearly wasn't going to drink and set it on the floor next to him before lifting her chin to look her in the eyes and taking her hands in his, "No, they probably wouldn't. At least most people wouldn't. Those of us closest to you know that what you feel is real, and hard as it is to imagine we even believe he loves you. We do not understand why you never said anything about your feelings, though never even telling us that the two of you were studying together," he paused and shook his head, "I suppose I can even understand that, we would have wanted to go with you to protect you. Not that you ever needed protecting but still."

She laughed ruefully and squeezed his hands.

He continued, "We would have been in the way. He would have been...he was the only one that could have been a decent study partner for you. Merlin knows Ron and I drove you nutters with our study habits. Awful as he could be. Arse that he could be, he is nearly as brilliant as you. If you hadn't had to deal with us those first few years...well who knows what you could be doing. Your marks were incredible anyway but they could have been the best ever seen at Hogwarts."

"And that still wouldn't have changed the opinions of so many about Mudbloods."

He sighed inwardly, "I still can't help thinking if we had known all along that you were at least studying together it would have been easier."

She peered at his eyes through his thick glasses, "What was it that finally convinced you? Don't deny that you didn't believe when I first told you. I saw it in your eyes."

He sighed, "Do you really blame me? When you hid it so well?"

A myriad of thoughts crossed her face but she simply shook her head before speaking, "I should have trusted you, if not Ron or Ginny. I should have trusted you. I should have told you when he first spoke to me with care and civility, when he first showed me that he wasn't his father's son. Maybe then you would have believed me. Maybe then we could have saved him, saved countless others. But you haven't answered my question Harry, what was it that finally convinced you?"

Knees beginning to ache he sat down on the floor cross legged, looked up at her, and said simply, "Narcissa."

"His mother?" her eyes went wide.

"Yes. She testified on his behalf. You know that she never took the mark. One of the few so high up in Voldemort's inner circle that didn't. She stayed away from the majority of the fighting. Everyone on our side that was interviewed as being at the Battle or having been at the Manor said that while she was there she didn't fight unless it was in defense. So when she spoke some listened."

"Draco did the same yet they wouldn't listen to him."

"He had the Mark."

"Like he accepted that willingly," she scoffed.

"He testified that he did it of his own free will," Harry replied then continued before she could reply, "I know, I know it was all about his family honor. Taking the Mark to take his father's place and make up for what his father had done getting caught and sent to Azkaban can hardly be the same as stepping forward on his own in a different time and taking the Mark, others don't and won't see it that way. They didn't even listen to Narcissa when she told of the first time Draco contacted her to say he thought that he had found the girl he wanted to marry but he was sure that Lucius wouldn't approve and he was feared that she wouldn't either. She spoke of him coming to her on a break and explaining his confusion and shame at falling for a Muggle born witch. It all made sense to me then."

She cocked her head and raised an eyebrow, "What made sense?"

"When he came down to the dungeon to get Griphook to look at the sword when we were at the Manor he said 'You have to help her. I can't do anything. If I even tried we'd both end up dead.' Ron was yelling and carrying on, Mr. Ollivander was moaning, Luna was...well being Luna and trying to keep all of our spirits up. I wasn't even sure I'd heard him correctly and it seemed so strange to be coming from him. It was when Narcissa spoke that I realized I had. He truly loves you. I'm not sure how that all figures into him being a Death Eater. He was trying to save his mother, maybe he thought if he pleased Voldemort he could somehow save you but he must have had some twisted plan in that case, not that it matters now."

"It wasn't enough to sway the court," she stated grimly. "Too many of them believed his mother was simply lying to save him."

"Yes." He didn't need to say it; she already knew, but he felt he had to say something.

"So his punishment wasn't prison, but instead to either give up doing Magic. I'm assuming they'd have bound his magic or put a trace on him."

Harry nodded.

"So he'd have to live as a Muggle here in the UK or leave the country to be able to continue to do magic?"

Again he nodded.

"And I'm going to assume the Ministry in its infinite wisdom will not be sharing the entirety of the proceedings or his record with the Magical Congress of the USA?"

Still another nod, "Kingsley has written a letter to the president of the MACUSA and explained that Draco was a child caught up in the Dark Side of the war, that he was forced to participate to save his own life and that of his parents."

She snorted, "Well that part's true enough."

"He goes on to say that Draco simply wants to start a new life away from all that transpired, away from those who would judge him for a lifetime for choices he made as a juvenile under duress."

"Under duress?" the laugh that escaped was almost a bark, she shook her head in disbelief, "Under duress? That's what he calls it? Threat of death from the worst known Dark Wizard in recent history, even worse the threat of watching his mother tortured and killed before he is, or works being left alive to suffer with those images? That's duress? That takes understatement to a whole new level."

"Kings is on your side Hermione. He did all he could. He has had a personal conversation with the MACUSA president to explain how he felt after she had read the trial transcript. She's willing to give him a chance."

"Under surveillance no doubt," she said snidely.

He shrugged, "It would be that way anywhere. Kings is on your side Hermione. He did all he could. This was the only compromise he could come up with that the court would agree to. The majority of them simply wanted to do with Draco as they've done with most of the other Death Eaters captured since the war."

"Lock him up and throw away the key, in other words," she huffed and shook her head.

"Yes."

"The fact that he turned himself in, that he was underage, that he's been on house arrest for the past year while awaiting trial, none of that means anything to them does it?"

"No."

They sat in a tense silence for a few moments before she wondered aloud, "If I weren't a part of the equation, would they have let him stay here?"

He leaned back, hands behind him on the floor and stretched his legs out next to her chair thinking before answering, "I honestly don't know."

She chewed her lip for a moment before sitting up straight and announcing, "I'll just have to move to America then. My parents will understand, they can visit any time they want."

Harry shook his head, "They won't let you. They won't allow you travel papers. You may be of age but they'll say you have to stay and serve out the contract you signed to work with the Ministry," he raised a hand, "and they won't let you switch departments to Magical Law. There's only so much Kingsley can do. Even as Minister he has little power without the approval of the Wizengamot."

She leaned back in the chair, one arm crossed over her stomach, the other elbow resting on that arm as she chewed absently on her thumbnail, eyes darting back and forth at random, muttering, "Obliviate… It worked for my parents… I got them back… Would they consider it? Would it work? Would it be reversible? What if there was no way? Would it still be worth it?" She went quiet for several minutes still chewing her thumbnail, occasionally muttering words unintelligebly. She stood slowly and walked to the Black Family tapestry, running her hand over Draco's name on the wall.

Worry began to crease Harry's face. He leaned towards her peering up at her over the frames of his glasses, "Hermione?"

She turned suddenly, "I have to see Kingsley."

"The Ministry is closed no Mione, let's go have dinner," he suggested. "I'm sure Kreacher has it ready."

"No!" she insisted, "Kings works late and it has to be today! It has to be now!"

He stood and moved in front of her hoping to delay her or at least get more answers, "But why Mione? Why can't it wait?"

"It just does. You can come with me or stay here, but don't get in my way," she ordered as her hand went down to her wand.

Harry acquiesced stepping back to let her pass, "I'll come along." Whatever she was planning he was worried that she was walking the find edge of sanity and he wasn't sure she wouldn't try hexing the Minister or anyone who got in her way as she tried to get to him.

She marched to the door with him following close behind. Out on the stoop she took hold of his arm and apparated them to the Ministry. Once inside, with no one covering the front desk any longer she simply continued her march straight up to the Minister's outer office where she was only briefly stopped by the Minister's assistant rising to speak, the witch in question sat back down and went back to work when she saw Harry shaking his head slightly eyes wide.

Hermione swept into the office, stalked over to the desk, looked up at the ebony man who stood before her and announced, "Kingsley, we have to talk," then sat down.

The Minister made brief eye contact with Harry over her head before nodding, taking his own seat, and replying, "Alright Hermione," then gesturing for her to speak.

A/N so as the synopsis says I posted this chapter previously, last year when I planned to use this story for NaNoWriMo, that didn't happen and I never did anything with it, finally deleted the story I'd posted, well I am doing it for NaNo this year. I have 3 more chapters written so far and am on the 4th so no idea what my posting schedule will be but I'm determined to finish this time. Reviews are always appreciated all I ask is that you be constructive with any criticism as that is what will help me grow as a writer. Thanks!