AN: The first few updates will be quick because I have already written them out...

Her pillow caught more saline that year than ever before. It was harder going through the motions without a majority of the school. She was used to the bustle of underclassmen in the hallways, the cries of friends meeting for a free moment in the stone corridors. Now, shoes echoed down empty halls, faint whispers died in the midst of rubble, and most students kept their eyes downcast. It wasn't bright, cheery, or anything like the Hogwarts of her past. It was cold, a place where warmth and happiness went to die.

A month after being there, dragging herself through the days in and days out of walking the same paths, she had had enough. She began her project, a small window garden that hung out of her tower. It was a simple planter, with a small assortment of flowers. She tended to it daily, talked to the breaking buds as she watered them with care. They became her refuge, like Harry's dark poetry and Ron's book of half drawn nightmarish creatures. Each hour she spent looking after the growing flowers reminded her of a possibility, an opportunity that could always be lurking somewhere just in the distance.

And it was a Friday when she caught a glimpse of that opportunity.

"Have you started the project for Arithmancy yet?" She was making polite conversation with Terry Boot, one person who hadn't completely shut himself out from the small huddle of Gryffindors.

"I haven't. I was going to ask a few more questions of Vector before I did. Some of this doesn't add up yet." He replied quietly, not even glancing up from his notes as he scribbled a few numbers and symbols onto his parchment. Hermione sighed and walked away from the table. Normally she was the one being asked about projects, not doing the asking. She had the rest of the day off, and her planter had started going wild on her. She hugged her books to her chest, her chin settling against the top of a copy of Hogwarts: A History as she climbed the stairs to Gryffindor tower.

"Granger!" An unfamiliar voice called out to her from a few floors down and she peered over the railing, watching as a neatly combed head of hair bobbed up the staircase three floors below. As it got closer, Hermione felt her entire frame go tense when she realized it was Theodore Nott. They had never exchanged words in their student lives, and only once had she seen him after the war, at the trial of several named Death Eaters. He had testified against his family, friends, and schoolmates with a stoic expression, and had left the courtroom with a simple nod towards Harry.

"Nott."

"Please, Theo." He brushed off her greeting and took a second to catch his breath, looking down the space between them. He stood a good head and a half taller than her, even though Harry had been swearing she had grown a few inches since the end of the war. Hermione resettled the books on her hip, waiting for him to continue. "This is going to be a slight bit weird, so I understand if you choose to decline, Granger."

"Hermione." She offered the same courtesy back to him and he smiled graciously, whetting his lips before he went on.

"I'd like to have dinner. With you. Tomorrow, if possible." His cheeks tinged red beneath the freckles that dotted under his eyes and Hermione tried to fight off the telltale warmth spreading across her face as well. "Not romantically or anything, I just think both of us are long overdue for a night out and I haven't gotten a chance to really sit and talk, just to have a conversation-"

"The Three Broomsticks will be just fine, Theo." Hermione interrupted him softly, a shy grin forming as she turned to leave.

"Seven?"

"Lovely." She waved a goodbye at him and continued on her way, her nerves shaking. She hadn't been asked out in years, at least not since she and Ron had fallen apart weeks after Fred's burial. Neither one of them could provide the emotional support necessary for the other, and they decided, on Harry's intervening, to remain friends, but nothing more. It had broken Ron, but in a way Hermione gained a sense of freedom that she had not tasted since she had become friends with Harry Potter.

"Heard you're going to dinner with Nott tomorrow." Ron grumbled over the top of his sketchbook. Hermione hummed her answer as she plopped into the plush armchair by the fireplace, her legs draped over one armrest as she flipped open a book. "I'm sure you'll have a wonderful time."

"We're going merely to enjoy civil and stimulating conversation."

"I'm sure he'll just be hoping for a stimulating conversation." Ron mocked, rolling his eyes before applying his pencil to paper. He drew a short line and then stopped, dropping his equipment to stare openly at Hermione. "Do you fancy him?"

"Ronald, we agreed to be open minded about this."

"He's the son of a Death Eater. I don't trust him and neither should you."

"He testified against his own father, how dare you hold him in prejudice."

"Just because he gave testimony doesn't clear him of being a bad person!"

"You only think he's bad because he's actually taking me out." Hermione snapped, letting out a sniff of disapproval. "You shouldn't be so quick to jump to conclusions."

"And you shouldn't be so quick to forgive and forget." Ron removed himself from the couch before Hermione could answer. His words lingered for a moment and Hermione sat still, closing the book and pulling her knees to her chest. Harry found her in the same position nearly twenty minutes later when he returned from his rendezvous with Ginny.

"Again?" He sighed and sank to the floor in front of Hermione's chair. She didn't bother responding. "I heard about the dinner. I think it's a good idea."

"Mhmm."

"Hermione." Harry looked up at her and she met his eyes, her lips curling on their own at how unchanged his eyes were. All he had been through, yet he kept those innocent emeralds as bright as ever. "Don't worry yourself on Ron. He'll learn to let go eventually. You need this. You've been keeping yourself locked away."

"He's right, you know." Hermione whispered as Harry grabbed one of her hands in both of his. "I don't let things settle before I jump ahead."

"But it's your beautiful flaw." Harry squeezed her hand and stood, inviting her to do the same. "And speaking of beautiful, you need some beauty sleep."

"Harry!"

"I can't in good conscience send you off to dinner tomorrow with one of Wales' most eligible bachelors looking like one of Crookshanks' hairballs." Harry teased. Hermione laughed her way up the steps to her room, opening her tower window to tend to her planter when she saw a small bit of movement on the edge of the lake. She paused, squinting a tiny bit to try and get a better look. It was nearly midnight, no one in their right mind would be anywhere near the lake at this hour, but there was someone there. Hermione frowned and went back down to the Common Room.

"Harry?" She lightly padded over to the couch where Harry sat, pen poised over parchment. "Who's at the lake?"

"Malfoy." Harry answered calmly. "He goes every night. Says it helps him think, clears his head."

"You've spoken with him?"

"Sure I have. He's basically me, but on the other side." Harry sighed heavily and took off his glasses, rubbing his fingers over his eyes for a few seconds. "He's not a bad bloke."

"What's he doing out there?"

"Inviting the giant squid to brunch." Harry snorted. "I have no idea, Hermione, why don't you go ask him?"

He truly had no reason to go to the lake at night. It made him calm, yes, and he loved being near water, but this was different. The lake was quiet, smooth, and no one was here to bother him. Only two people knew he came here at night. He lived with one, and he had reluctantly told the fact to another. Draco sighed and picked up a flat stone, spinning it in his palm a few times before flicking it over the water, satisfied as it skipped four times and sank beneath the surface. His expression soured, however, when he connected the metaphor of the stone and his life in his head. He had been skipping across the surface, and now he had sunk.

"It's a bit chilly tonight." A voice broke the silence he was enjoying but Draco didn't mind Theo all that much. "You're going to be skipping rocks on ice soon enough."

"I'd prefer ice fishing."

"Indeed." Theo smirked and sat on the large boulder on the bank, one leg pulled close to his chest with an arm draped ever so casually over his knee. "Do you think we'll ever be normal again?"

"I'd hate it if we were." Draco mused, picking another stone from the ground. A few minutes of silence passed and then Theo cleared his throat suddenly.

"I've asked Granger to dinner." He announced shortly. Draco nodded a few times, flicking the stone over the water again. "I'm not sure why."

"Conversation. Pick her brain. Use hopeless pick-up lines that stopped working after we razed Amsterdam." Draco shrugged and watched the ripples fade into the shoreline. Theo chuckled, trailing off quietly. "Why?"

"I think she could make me feel again." Theo admitted softly, keeping his eyes fixed on the boulder he sat on. "She saved his life."

"She thinks faster than he does." Draco corrected. "Women like that are dangerous. I should know. I was raised by one."

"And what a sodding prick you've turned out to be." Draco's next stone was aimed at Theo's head good naturedly. The two shared a schoolboy guffaw, that familiar feeling of being at Hogwarts creeping into their bodies.

"Do you think she's right?" Theo cut their laughter short, bringing them both back to the moment at hand.

"In the head? No, not at all." Draco chuckled once more and then sighed, noncommittally shrugging his shoulders. "She seems fair. Decent. Obviously smart."

"I'm tired of living alone."

"Well she's not going to jump into that." Draco joined Theo on top of the boulder, folding his legs one over the other and putting his hands on his knees.

"How do you know?"

"I just do." Draco let the conversation end there, his eyes drawn magnetically to the tower on the far end of the castle, staring for a moment at the light left on.

AN: Please be kind and leave a review...