Full Summary: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy have been enemies from the moment he chose what side he was on, and when he decided to make her life miserable due to the status of her blood. Now, it's their Seventh Year, but the war's still raging on outside the walls of Hogwarts. And through that, Aphrodite Venus, a special Ministry Official, is watching them carefully. What happens when she has enough of Hermione and Draco's fighting and makes a drastic decision that causes the two students to become one another?

This Is War

Prologue

She was breathing heavily, her heart practically pounding in her chest, making a painful rhythm inside her bones as she tried to collect herself. She could feel the anxiety gripping her bones, numbing her skin and immobilizing her limbs. Cold tingles ran up her spine as a sickening feeling of panic made her head spin, making something inside her eardrums pulsate.

"Collect yourself," she whispered to herself, shaking her hands at her sides to try and get rid of the tingles of numbness.

And as she inhaled, exhaled, inhaled, exhaled through her nostrils for a few more minutes, trying to use those breathing exercises she learned when stress paralyzed her, she reached her hand forward and flushed the toilet. She watched, a little sickened and disgusted with herself as the contents that she had vomited swirled away.

Wiping her mouth off as she opened the door of the bathroom stall, she proceeded to the sink. She let the cold water run for a bit, sparing a glance at herself in the mirror across from her. She could see the paleness of her skin and the unmistakeable dark circles that were a mix of different shades of purple underneath her eyes. She looked like she'd been wrestling with Death the night before. And it had felt like it. Every night she felt like she went to battle against the silent truth that shook the world outside the curtains of her four-poster.

She gave herself another look-over, confirming how hideous she looked. She wasn't being harsh either, she knew it was safe to say she looked terrible—but as she gathered a bit of that cold water between her hands, she splashed her face and tried to push that sickness from her face. There was just no time for people to notice how horrible she had gotten, how sick everything around her had made her.

She would not let them think she was weak.

After rinsing her mouth with the water, popping in a breath-freshener that she'd stolen from someone who left their box of mints lying around in the Gryffindor common room, she fixed her curls and her school robes before heading for the door without a look back.

Making her way out through the corridor she'd always walked on, she raised her chin high; meeting anyone in the eye who glanced at her. And there was a lot of staring, a lot of contemplative glances thrown at her direction. She wanted to remind them who she was, how composed and strong she'd always been. She didn't want to give them too much time to get a full glimpse of her, to perhaps see that shadows of how sick she was when they studied her.

It wasn't a psychical sickness, after all, but she was sure her eyes would give it away; revealing things that no one was supposed to know. Despite that, the more she walked, the more she put up with the charade, the more she felt so mentally and emotionally exhausted to keep up with the false attitude. She had spent all summer long fighting, searching, studying, and planning. Her brain was fried, there was just no ounce of fight in her left.

Just before her thoughts could head down a road that she's spent all night finding an exit from, she approached the grand doors of the Great Hall and spotted two figures that were waiting for her. Once they had, they instantly stopped their conversations.

When two sets of distinct eyes peered into hers, she pulled on the best smile she could with the strength she had left.

"Morning," her voice was quite cheerful.

"Hey, 'Mione." Reaching her first, as always, a tall redhead boy gave her a fleeting embrace. He smiled at her as he pulled away, returning her gesture, but he had been just as oblivious in seeing that the brunette was faking it. She didn't blame him for that, though. She wanted him to believe it. "Good morning."

"Hermione," and next up was her other best friend, green eyes behind his famous circled glasses looking worriedly at her. "How'd you sleep?"

She inhaled, exhaled, inhaled deeply before answering. "Good, actually. And you, Harry?" Then there went her smile again, trying her hardest not to let those thoughts come up again. She knew he was worried for her, feeling her pain, sympathizing with her, but she just didn't want it.

Being quick to understand the silent brush off of his questioning gaze, Harry Potter returned his friend's smile, too. "It would have been all right if it wasn't for Ron's constant spider-nightmares. I had to sit with him for two hours before he stopped babbling and crying."

Ron frowned at his friends when they began to chuckle at his expense. "Yeah, yeah. Go ahead, laugh all you want to. Gits."

"Oh, cheer up, Ronald." Hermione nudged the redhead. "How about some breakfast? Will that make you feel better?"

Knowing his soft spot for anything considered edible, especially Hogwarts food, Ron allowed himself to be steered by the brunette into the Great Hall. His annoyance with them was long gone when he saw bowls and plates filled with deliciousness that he couldn't wait to sample.

As they headed to their table, guided by Ron who was tracing down a plate with his nose, Harry and Hermione were not oblivious to the looks people were giving them. Not that the students were ever discrete when they stared, but in that moment some had decided to break into murmurs as the Golden Trio walked down their path.

"Curious, aren't they?" Harry commented casually to Hermione, trying to sound calm and indifferent for her sake. "They're all wondering why we're back when the war's clearly still on outside the walls of the school."

Hermione smiled lopsidedly, dodging the eyes of some of her classmates with that curiosity Harry had spotted. "Well, all they have to know is that education comes first," she nudged him, looking up at him with that smile that was not true, "besides, you can say I forced you to complete our Seventh Year. The war could wait."

Harry chuckled lightly, but it was clear from his expression that he didn't take on the matter lightly. Instead of adding to the weight of the problem, however, Harry remained silent as he and Hermione found seats on the Gryffindor table.

Ron was seated next to Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, stuffing toast and eggs into his mouth at the same time. He attempted conversation with his fellow Gryffindors, but by the confused expressions on the other two boys, it was clear that they weren't understanding anything the redhead was going on about.

"You'd think his mum starved him all summer," Dean said to Ron's two best friends, pulling his bowl of cereal away from the chunks that weren't being chewed by the redheaded Gryffindor.

Harry laughed, inhabiting that casualness that had been ordered on the Golden Trio. "Actually, he was a vegetarian all summer, Dean. Nothing but plants and fruits."

"A'd 'ish," Ron added between biting off multiple strips of bacon.

Narrowing her eyes at the redhead, because Hermione couldn't forget how much he complained about the tasteless fish she cooked in the summer, she picked up a direct gaze in her peripheral vision. Silver eyes, cold and hard as she'd always remembered them being, stared directly at her. Though she was also accustomed to seeing hatred and disgust in them, she saw flickers of confusion and curiosity that paralleled to the stares the other students gave her.

She raised her chin high in self-worth and self-preservation. She didn't want him to spot what she was trying to hide from the others. If he could see how the war that he was a part of damaged her, she was sure he'd marvel in it.

As they continued to stare defiantly at one another, a ding, ding, ding interrupted the battle of prides.

Up ahead, where all the staff of Hogwarts sat and watched over their students during meals, Professor McGonagall arose from her chair. The old woman stood behind the golden owl podium that once belonged to Dumbledore, her beady eyes blank and concentrated on the mass of students that had all looked up at her; their attention at the ready.

"Before all of you can begin your first official day at Hogwarts, I would like to make a few announcements," and McGonagall began, her voice stern as always. "The first thing you should all know is about the security measures Hogwarts has placed all around its grounds. As we have assured your families, the castle has a vast collection of protecting spells surrounding the walls. We assure you, as well, no one is allowed in and no one is allowed out without direct access by the Head Auror helping guard our school.

"Trips to Hogsmeade have been limited this year, for reasons that all of you are aware of. Curfew will be enforced more strictly than ever, and the Forbidden Forest has been closed down by measures of our protection. It goes without saying that anyone attempting to make a detour to even the edge of the forest will be ripped apart by our protection charms."

Expecting a few groans from the students, since they were now more imprisoned than ever before, Hermione was a little surprised that no one made noises of protest. Many students frowned in a disapproving manner that the Golden Trio acted as if there was no war outside the walls of the castle, with the three Gryffindors acting as if it was another year at Hogwarts. They might assume that the holy Trio of Gryffindors ignored the war, but they very much knew it was real. They didn't protest because they needed the protection. They were all aware of the dangers lurking at every corner outside the bubble of the castle grounds.

"And lastly," Professor McGonagall spoke once more, "our school will not only be home to you this year, but also to a guest that comes directly from the Ministry."

When McGonagall announced this, a woman in a white suit stood from her end of the staff table. Hermione had to lift herself a few centimeters to get a good look at her. The woman had yellow-blonde hair, streaks of aging white mixing between those curls that flowed massively down her shoulders. Her eyes were an almost navy blue, and they were wide and rimmed with wrinkles on the outside corners.

"I am Aphrodite," the woman spoke, not allowing McGonagall to further speak for her. Her voice was low, sultry, and as if it hid more secrets than anyone could ever imagine. "Aphrodite Venus. I am here to keep a watchful eye on Hogwarts while the Ministry of Magic sees fit to end its duties here."

This time, there were groans from the students. Everyone that was old enough to remember having Dolores Umbridge in their school, trying to overthrow the system they already had, were not particularly happy with this new information.

And with her thoughts connected the same way as all the others, Hermione glanced up at Harry.

"I didn't know about it," the Chosen One murmured to his friend, knowing the question in her eyes. "Neither Kingsley nor McGonagall mentioned it when I met with them a few days prior."

Not affected by the clear dislike that she was getting, the woman narrowed her eyes and kept her face neutral. "I understand the opposition you all have with another Ministry Official invading your school," she said, "but let's be clear about one thing: I am not here to make friends or get all of you to improve your grades."

The Great Hall went silent.

"Take a look around you," Aphrodite Venus went on. "Look at your house tables, think back to your common rooms—are they not a lot thinner than what you remember?"

Harry glanced around his table, noticing the definite number of missing people in his year. Gryffindor was usually a house thundering with students, but it was hard not see the empty spots. It was not difficult for Harry to see the missing places throughout all the houses. It triggered guilt in him, but he pushed it down with the Ministry Official restarted her speech.

"We are at war. There's a battle raging outside the walls of this castle, in villages not far from here. There are people dying every day. The harsh reality is that most of those people will be someone you were acquainted with, a loved one, someone whom you once called a classmate." The woman's eyes remained without emotion, even as she spoke true words that daggered into the students' eardrums. "I am here to show you the light that none of you can see at the moment."

Ron and Harry exchanged looks at that moment, both of them skeptical and wary while Hermione remained with her brown eyes glued to that foreign woman.

"And it is with my skills that I'm going to target the worst of you," feeling a cold chill race down her spine, her eyes glued forcefully into the blue of the woman, Hermione felt like she was speaking directly at her. But as soon as she'd felt frozen, the eyes of the woman traveled to a distinctive silver pair in a different house table. "And you will really see what both sides of the war has to offer."