While Astoria and Daphne tackled the job of tracking down their housemates' families- many of whom were scattered across Europe in hiding- Draco, Hermione, Theo and Blaise were sent to start clearing the damages and doing repairs on the building.

In that first week they didn't leave Hogwarts at all, spending all their time trying to return the castle to its former, pristine condition, working until they were too exhausted to think about anything but sleep.

And then the funerals started.

A year's worth of fallen friends to be remembered and Hermione insisted on going to each and every one.

Fred Weasley's had been the most difficult. Draco had gone with her, of course, and it broke his heart watching her fall apart with the rest of the Weasley family. George had obviously taken the loss harder than anyone else and his elder brothers had been forced to hold him down as his twin was lowered into the ground, while his sister and mother sobbed loudly in what Draco assumed was an attempt to drown out his screams. Hermione had done her best to comfort the family, holding Ginny's hand while she sobbed into Potter's chest and repeatedly trying to do absolutely anything for Ron, despite the vapid responses she continually got. In the end, Percy had stepped in and relieved Hermione of his younger brother's care, after hearing him call her a 'Deatheater's whore'.

"He doesn't mean it," he had tried to apologize. "He just-"

"I know he doesn't," Hermione had insisted. "He's just hurting. If yelling at me helps him feel even a little bit better, I can take it. I'm a big girl."

Percy had simply nodded sadly before escorting his brother back to the house. Ginny had insisted that Hermione and Draco go back to the castle after that, promising that they would be okay.

Hermione had been almost catatonic for the rest of the night.


Ron hadn't attended any more funerals after his brother's, instead taking solace in a bottle of firewhiskey and getting more aggressive and volatile with each passing day according to Harry.

It didn't matter how adversely the funerals affected Hermione, though, or how much Draco worried and begged her not to go- especially when he was unable to accompany her to most of them, for fear of upsetting others in attendance- every morning she pulled on the simple black dress she had borrowed from Ginny and met Harry in the entryway so that they could attend the day's memorials together.

And when she returned each night, her eyes red and puffy, hair falling out of the braid she had put it in that morning after a day's worth of anxious tugging and emotionally shattered, Draco stood waiting for her- usually with Blaise and Theo at his side- ready to try and help her forget the awfulness of the day over dinner, sharing their own exploits trying to repair the castle.

Even though they had all only been together for a few weeks, it was like they had become a family and Hermione was surprised to realize how she had never felt she belonged more than she did sitting in the Slytherin common room with Draco and his friends.

"It just feels right," she tried to explain to Harry as they sat in the garden at the Burrow after yet another funeral. "The way you feel here, you know?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I'm not quite sure I understand it, but I can't argue how good the feeling is."

"How's Ron?" Hermione asked, looking back at the house. She hadn't spoken to him since his brother's funeral, as he inevitably shouted profanities at her whenever they crossed paths, but that didn't stop her from worrying about him- he was still one of her best friends, after all.

"He's... I don't know," Harry shook his head. "I keep trying to get him to talk, but he just won't let me in. He's been spending a lot of time with George, though, which seems like it should be a good thing."

"It should be," Hermione nodded.

"I think the empty bottles of firewhiskey I keep tripping over would beg to differ, though," he frowned.

"How's Ginny?" Hermione changed the subject. "We talked at Lavender's funeral the other day, but I feel like she's holding back."

"Yeah," Harry sighed. "She's worried about putting more stress on us after everything."

"Did you tell her she's insane?"

"I did," he laughed. "It took a few tries, but we finally had it out and we're good now. You might have to push her a little to get her to give in, though."

"I will," Hermione pursed her lips.

"Here's your chance," Harry smiled as his girlfriend approached them. "Hey, Gin."

"Hey," Ginny smiled warmly at him. "Hey, Hermione."

"Hi," Hermione got to her feet and pulled the redhead into a hug. "Harry, bugger off. Gin and I need to have a chat."

"That doesn't sound good," Ginny frowned.

"She's unhappy with you," Harry explained.

"I'm not unhappy," Hermione corrected . "I'm worried. Now bugger off."

Harry raised his eyebrows in a 'you know I'm right' look, then gave each girl a quick kiss on the cheek and made his way back up to the house.

As soon as he was gone Hermione pulled Ginny to sit on the bench beside her and took both her hands, squeezing them tightly.

"Listen to me," she ordered before Ginny could start. "You, Ginevra Weasley, are one of my best friends in the entire world, you are my sister, and I will not have you keeping things from me because you're worried, because that makes me worry about you and it just turns into a vicious circle of worry and unhappiness in which Harry ends up confused and worried and stuck in the middle not knowing which way is up."

"You've always had a knack for bluntness," Ginny chuckled. "I'm fine Hermione."

"You and I both know that's not true," Hermione shook her head. "Ginny, none of us are fine. You lost a brother, I know how much you must be hurting right now."

"Sure," she shrugged, all signs of laughter gone. "But I'm dealing with it. You have far more important things to worry about than me."

"Ginny, there is nothing more important to me than taking care of my family, and you are an enormous part of that."

"Come on, Hermione," Ginny sighed heavily. "Harry's told me what happened- all of it. We've talked through every day from the night you left to the night you came back. I know what you've been through."

"I haven't been through any more than Harry has," Hermione insisted. "And none of that matters. We have to take care of each other. How can I let you worry about what I've been through when you won't let me worry about what you're going through?"

Ginny stared at her, opening her mouth to argue and closing it again quickly, giving Hermione a chance to continue.

"Listen Gin, I love that you're worried about me, but you really don't need to be. Draco and I, we worry about each other more than enough, you need to worry about you and you need to let me worry about you too. We're all fucked up, but the only way we're going to get un-fucked up is by taking care of each other and we can only do that if we talk to each other- honestly."

"Fine, if I can worry about you, you can worry about me," Ginny agreed grudgingly. "But you have to promise to put yourself first. Hermione, I know you don't want to admit the extent of what you're dealing with, but you need to. You went through so much more than me-"

"Ginny, you can't compare our situations," Hermione interrupted. "And you can't quantify them and weigh them against each other. We all went through hell, and I promise you that I'm not minimizing that, I'm not in denial about how messed up I am, but you can't be either. We have to be honest with each other, that's what best friends do."

"Honesty goes both ways," Ginny pointed out.

"It does," Hermione smiled softly. "So let's talk- about real things, not these stupid fake discussions about nothing we've been having. How are you, really?"


When she met Draco in the entryway that night, it was the first time in weeks that Hermione didn't feel like she might shatter at the sight of him. Her talk with Ginny had taken off a weight she hadn't even realized she was carrying and she almost felt happy- a pleasant change from the anxiety and emotional pain that had plagued her every waking hour lately.

"Hey," Draco smiled and pulled her into a hug, immediately noticing that she wasn't as tense as usual. "How was your day?"

"It was... nice," she smiled. "Ginny and I talked."

"Like, actually talked?" he asked hopefully, leading her into the great hall.

"Yeah. Deepest darkest secrets and all that." Hermione nodded, noting the fond smile on Draco's face as they both recalled the nights they'd spent sharing their own 'deepest darkest secrets'.

"Sexy," Blaise smirked as Hermione sat down across from him, having caught only the mention of dark secrets. "Whose dark secrets were you collecting, exactly, and do you want to share any?"

"Not with you she doesn't," Draco rolled his eyes.

"Now, now, maybe our lovely Hermione needs a confidant," Blaise argued mischievously. "She doesn't tell you everything."

"Yes she does," Draco waved him off and turned back to Hermione. "Eat something."

"I was sharing deep dark secrets with Ginny," she explained to Blaise. "And what does it look like I'm doing, Draco?" She grabbed a roll and waved it in his face before tearing off a corner and nibbling at it.

"Eat more," he frowned. "Preferably something that used to be an animal and can provide protein."

Hermione rolled her eyes and put some salad on her plate, then turned to address the rest of the table. "How was everything here?"

"Not too bad. No violent outbursts or breakdowns," Astoria filled her in. "A couple more kids went home, but they were all in Hufflepuff."

"Draco blew up your precious library," Theo offered, not even bothering to hide the smug look on his face as he ratted his friend out.

"You did what?!" Hermione wheeled on her boyfriend, a horrified look on her face.

"He's exaggerating," Draco immediately tried to placate her. "I facilitated a minor explosion in the restricted section, and there was barely any damage."

"You took out an entire wall," Daphne scoffed.

"Draco!"

"It wasn't an important wall!" he argued.

"I don't even know how to answer that," Hermione shook her head. "All walls are important!"

"Some are arguably more important that others." Blaise chimed in lazily, then saw the look on Hermione's face and paled. "But, you know, still important."

"Smooth," Theo chuckled at his friend's stuttered retraction while Draco glared at the other man.

"So much for brothers in arms," he muttered.

"Sorry, mate, but she's a lot scarier than you are," Blaise chuckled.

"How can she be scarier than me?!" he demanded. "I'm Draco Malfoy!"

"And that's supposed to mean something to me?" Blaise scoffed. "You're forgetting that I've known you since we were four years old. We've been over this, you're a glorified hedgehog. She's Hermione fucking Granger, she can kick anyone's ass and look like a million galleons doing it."

"Oh!" Hermione stifled a laugh, reaching up to stroke her boyfriend's cheek and wipe the brooding frown from his face.

"Oh, for Godric's sakes," Draco tried to pull away from her, but Hermione grabbed his arm to stop him. "I mean, he's not wrong about you, but a hedgehog!? Would you stop laughing?!"

"I'm sorry, love," Hermione bit her cheek in an attempt to sober herself. "You're a very scary hedgehog!"

"Don't patronize me, woman," he grumbled, making everyone laugh even harder. "Eat your food."

Hermione stifled another giggle, then looked at her plate and frowned, noting that Draco had piled as much food as he could onto it, completely burying the reasonable portion of salad she had taken.

"I'm not eating this," she shook her head, looking rather queasy.

"You need to eat," Draco said for the thousandth time. "You're skin and bone."

"I am eating," she growled, scraping most of her plate onto Theo's, leaving only some salad and a bit of chicken.

"Thanks," Theo nodded appreciatively and dug in, ignoring the daggers Draco was shooting at him.

"How's Weasley?" Blaise asked, trying to change the subject before an argument could start.

"I wouldn't know," Hermione shrugged glumly. "He's still not speaking to me."

"But Weaselette is," Theo jumped in quickly. "That's a step up from yesterday."

"And besides," Blaise nodded. "You've got us. We're far better conversationalists- and lovers, if you care to know."

"You know, Blaise, I really don't," she grimaced. "In fact, I already know far too much about your sex life, considering we've only been friends for a few weeks."

"What can I say? I'm a very open person," he shrugged.

"You're a pervert," Daphne corrected. "So, Hermione, will you be joining us tomorrow? Maybe you can keep Draco from blowing up any more walls."

"Colin Creevey's funeral is tomorrow," she shook her head, sobering even more.

"Just the one?" Daphne asked carefully.

Hermione nodded, staring at her plate as she pushed its contents around listlessly.

When she didn't say any more, Theo steered the conversation back to safer waters, telling them about a conversation he'd had with one of the first years still living in the castle. Hermione didn't listen, though, her mind was too busy spinning with the dozens of funerals she'd been to in the past weeks. They all blurred together in a mess of coffins, wails and raised wands, each memory bleeding into the next until she couldn't tell them apart, couldn't even tell if they were old memories or new- the pain was all the same after all.

When Draco took her elbow and helped her up from the table, she hadn't even realized that the rest of the hall had emptied out, too lost in her own thoughts.

"Come on, love," he kissed her temple softly.

"I didn't finish my plate," Hermione said lamely, seeming to still be slightly dazed.

"That's okay," he smiled softly. "I'll get you something later if you want."

He put his arm around her and lead them out of the hall, but instead of heading towards the Slytherin dorms he turned to the stairs.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked, confused.

"I thought you might want to talk somewhere more private than the common room," Draco explained. "Come on."

Six floors later, they paced back and forth in a dead end hallway waiting for a door to appear.

"Just like old times," Hermione quipped, though her smile didn't come close to reaching her eyes.

"Hopefully this room isn't as cluttered," Draco smirked.

The room they'd been provided with that night was like a miniaturized version of the Gryffindor common room, with a large well-worn sofa sitting in front of a welcoming fire that provided the room with soft, calming light.

Without a word, Draco took her hand and lead her over to the sofa, siting down and pulling her into his lap.

"Tell me," he spoke softly, half order half plea.

"I-I'm just so tired," Hermione sighed raggedly and collapsed against him. "I'm tired of standing in front of coffins, and I'm tired of watching my best friend destroy himself, and I'm tired of all the hurt and pain and suffering. I just want it all to stop."

"It will," Draco rubbed her back comfortingly. "Tomorrow is the last funeral, and then you can move on from that, start moving forward."

"I don't think I'm ever going to move past this," she shook her head, her voice tinged by the vaguest hint of despair.

"You will," Draco promised. "We all will. Its just going to take time. Time and space heals all wounds."

"Time maybe," Hermione allowed. "But there is no space from this. It's everywhere. There's no escaping it. Everyday we eat breakfast in the room where we laid our dead, and we walk through hallways filled with rubble and stained in blood and I can practically see the whole night happening in front of me, over and over and over again."

She started to cry and Draco pulled her tight against his chest, his hand cupping the back of her head gently.

"Shh, shh, it's alright. It's over," he whispered. "It's over now."

He knew what she meant, though. As long as they stayed in the castle, they wouldn't be able to properly heal from what they'd seen that night. They would just keep replaying it over and over, until it swallowed them whole.

"Maybe we should think about leaving," he said suddenly.

"What?" Hermione looked up at him in confusion, wiping her eyes.

"Maybe it would be better if we weren't living here anymore," Draco tried to explain. "You're right, we're surrounded by all these reminders of the awful things that happened to us and to our friends, I feel it too. Maybe it would be better if we found somewhere else. We could get a flat somewhere, a fresh start."

Hermione sniffled and chewed at her bottom lip, a nervous look in her eye.

"What is it, baby?" Draco used his thumb to wipe a few stray tears from her cheek. "Talk to me."

"You want us to move in together?" she asked quietly, not meeting his eyes.

"Well, yeah," he shrugged. "Unless you don't want to, of course, which I would be perfectly fine with. I just figured you've been staying in the Slytherin dorm every night, so it's practically like we're living together already, and-"

"Okay," Hermione interrupted, placing her hand over his mouth softly before he could start rambling too much.

"Okay?"

"Okay," she smiled. "I'd like that- having a flat together. Something that's all our own, without any bad memories around every corner. Yeah, love, I really really want to move in with you."

Draco grinned broadly at this and kissed her, one hand cupping her cheek while the other wound into her hair.

"I love you," he whispered against her lips.

"I love you too," Hermione breathed, melting into him. "I love you so much Draco Malfoy, it's bloody ridiculous."