Summary:
A year after the war, wounds were still open, souls were adrift. Searching for a way to feel alive again, Hermione decides to join a volunteer mission to Taiwan, to help rebuild a small village, affected by a severe earthquake. Unexpectedly, her mission resonates with a large group of friends and even with some unexpected slytherins.
Follow their life-changing experience, where wounded hearts find solace, help comes from unanticipated corners and love happens when you least expect it.
Dramione, fluff, smut but also some reality. Other pairings.
Finally my Campnanowrimo is finished. You can expect 17 chapters, including a prologue and epilogue, a little monster of almost 50k words, written in one month. Phew. This fic was the reason why I put all my wip's temporarily on hold. Now I'm returning faithfully to them, I hope you enjoy this new baby as much as I loved to write it. Share the love!
Disclaimer:
Nothing you recognise belongs to me aside from my plot bunny.
Note:
Some of the facts have been slightly adjusted to fit the plot. But the main events and their consequences are kept true, as also the meaning of the Mid-Autumn Festival. For the DWA (see Epilogue), I found inspiration within Paul Walker's Reach Out WorldWide, a foundation built out of volunteers who offer help to affected areas following natural disasters. Something I have a huge respect for and also financially support with a yearly donation.
But the most important thing? The amazing help from my dear Magzillasaurus, she was an amazing beta: cleaning up my typos, redacting my thoughts into a better way and giving me such a support.
Prologue
May 1999
The Second Wizarding War, one year later.
Life after the Battle of Hogwarts didn't return to its normal rhythm.
The dark side paid dearly for following the idealism of a half-blood, blindly hungry for power.
Every Death Eater who didn't flee in time, enjoyed a compulsory stay at Azkaban while waiting for their hearing, the three Malfoy's included.
Every Pureblood family with ties to the known Death Eaters, underwent a strict investigation to determine their participation in the war. This was so for the Parkinson, Greengrass and Zabini families. The involvement of Nott Senior, with his association as a Death Eater, was undeniable. Contrary to Draco's fate, Theo was spared from imprisonment, unless the ongoing inquiry, stirred up evidence of wrongdoing.
The society as a whole, who once kissed the ground these young adults walked on, didn't hide their distaste. They treated them as pariahs, the unwanted, to be avoided at all costs. The hypocrisy of it all was maddening.
Either way, the Slytherin housemates lost their foot. The Pureblood superiority was proven unjustified on any grounds. The truths fed to them on golden spoons turned out to be big piles of dung. Every wizard, regardless of their origin, peed the same colour, bled red just as they did. All their beliefs were based on quicksand. In the end, the majority regretted their actions, the expressed words, and above all the cruelty they had been forced to apply. On strangers, on children, on fellow students.
Draco was the poster boy for regret. Nights filled with horrifying memories. Dreams shattered; the man he considered a hero was, in reality, a racist coward. The man he looked up to his entire life was the reason why Draco was nearly forced to commit murder. Only Salazar knew, how that mission destroyed him from the inside out. Yet, he didn't regret accepting it. It came down to Dumbledore or his mother.
He would never confess it aloud, but he felt ashamed, betrayed, and regretful. Lost and expected to spend the rest of his days behind bars.
The light side licked its wounds too.
An astonishing amount of volunteers combined forces to bring the grandeur back to the beloved Castle. Old and new students, teachers and civilians.
At the same time, guilty or not, every Pureblood family was forced to contribute financially to Hogwarts reparations. The extent to which they contributed depended on their established level of participation in the events surrounding the war. Those who were already imprisoned received a higher bill.
Healing was a different kind of beast.
The golden trio was dragged from celebrations to memorials. Everyone wanted to show gratitude and see and be seen with the nation's heroes. Harry and Hermione hated it. What they wanted was peace, breathing room to deal with the aftermath of the war. They saw too much, they went through the impossible, had to do the unthinkable.
Ron loved the attention and used the spotlight to temporarily forget Fred's passing, not that the rush lasted long. Contrary to Harry and Hermione, who attended every funeral of a fallen friend, Ron skipped more than he was present but no one blamed him, the raw wound was too fresh.
On the amorous level, all went south.
Ron and Hermione tried and failed at keeping the fire alive between them. Hermione ended it by confessing that she had to force herself to feel. He was one of her best friends, but more than friendship wasn't in it for her. Ron didn't take it well initially, but when she argued her case, he ended up admitting he sought comfort above all.
In the first month following their break-up, they kept their distance but their friendship was too strong and, slowly but steadily, they grew closer again.
Harry didn't fare much better. Ginny became possessive, blinded by insecurity and worry, forcing him to explain over and over again what he and Hermione had done while they shared a tent. Harry tried to fight for their relationship, but her bitching - which increased after Ron and Hermione's break-up - suffocated him and he snapped. He forced a time-out so they both could ponder what they wanted in life.
He was broken. Broken from losing Sirius, Dumbledore, Remus and Tonks. Killing Voldemort came at a cost, it had demanded a toll. Also, the fact that everyone pulled at his arms and wanted to touch him as if he was some kind of Messiah irked him to no end.
Instead of taking it as it was meant, Ginny only made it worse. Even Molly tried to make her see that Harry's decision was the wisest. Recover from the hurt and start anew. But not for Ginny. And instead of showing Harry they were meant to be and could survive it all, she only dug a wider wedge.
In the end, no matter which side, dark or light, both parties saw and did things they couldn't erase. They were lost. Empty. Adrift.
The war left scars. Scars that urgently needed to be healed.