"Can't we take a break 'Mione. It's the last day before winter hols and I've been working on this meditation for over a month now." Neville whined, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he turned to face her. Their animagus classes were getting more intense now that so many of them had completed their meditations.

McGonagall hadn't been surprised when Ginny had approached her ready to argue her case to be allowed to take the classes. Ginny however was surprised when McGonagall said yes without much argument at all. Ginny and Hermione both completed their meditations after the fifth class. Ginny was excited that her patronus was a lioness. While not the most practical transformation, she was pleased to see that she was represented by such a strong animal. Hermione's meditations went back and forth at first, much like the sorting hat had done when she was sorted her first year. At first, she saw a brown owl with flecks of gold on the tips of its wings. That didn't bode well for her fear of heights, so she was rather relieved when it alternated into a small fox.

In her final meditation, she was staring at a mirror image of herself, and watched as the image changed before her. The fox's fur mimicked the multi-tones in her hair, catching the light and shifting from hues of brown as deep as chocolate to as bright as amber. At first, she wasn't certain that this was the form she would take, but then the fox's intelligent eyes turned back to her, and she saw herself in those eyes.

Draco, Blaise, Theo, Hannah, Anthony, Terry, and a handful of students from Ginny's year joined, and by the second week McGonagall found herself splitting the seventh and eighth years up to allow for more direct instruction. Ginny insisted on showing up to the eighth-year classes, and now in their group only Neville was still unsure of his form.

"What if I can't do it Hermione?' He asked, laying down against the smooth cool stones of the empty classroom they had adapted into their practice space. They would've used the Room of Requirement, but it was still recovering itself from the fiendfyre that Crabbe had unleashed on it.

Hermione laid down next to him, positioning herself so they were almost touching. Everyone else had gone already, but Hermione had decided to stay behind with Neville. Draco had looked as if he wanted to stay as well, but Blaise reminded him quickly that they had Quidditch practice.

"You know what your problem is Nev?" She asked, shifting so she was supporting herself on her elbows. Neville didn't turn to look at her, and she knew that he was still unsure of his power. To be fair to him though, its hard to properly channel your magic through a wand that isn't your own. He had truly only begun learning about his potential their fifth year, and he had made up for much of that lost time in that time. He shook his head after some time, and she took a deep breath.

"Your problem is that you keep imagining who you expect yourself to be. You'll never see your form if you don't first understand who you truly are. Bad and good. For example, I may be the brightest witch of our age, but I can be incredibly stubborn, and I still feel like an outsider in this world no matter how much time I spend in it. Once you accept who you are, all of who you are and not who you or anyone else thinks you should be, then you'll be able to see your form. Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?" He was mimicking her movement by then, pulling himself up on his elbows as well. The corners of his lips pulling up into a smile, he commented quietly, "I imagine you'll tell me even if I say no." Chuckling at him, she knocked her shoulder into him playfully.

"You're brave, but not in the stupid way Harry or Ron are. You're the quiet kind of brave, like you'll do anything you can to help others even if it hurts you. You're also smart, although you thrive more on the theoretical side of most magics rather than the practical." They shared a look at that, and they both smiled at the unsaid notion that he was the most rubbish potion maker in the world. "But I think the most important thing about you Neville, is you are so kind." She sat at this, placing her hand on his back. "You are the kindest person I've ever met. That's who you are meditating to find." Neville looked at her for a long moment before he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. She tried to remain as quiet as possible as her friend attempted his meditation again.

After about fifteen minutes, Neville opened his eyes with a start, a bright, large smile stretching his features. "I did it 'Mione!" He jumped up, grabbing Hermione and swinging her around in a tight hug. "I thought about what you said and then all of a sudden there was my form."

Hermione smiled brightly as he put her down. "What was it Nev?" She asked, watching as he blushed deeply. "It was a squirrel." His lips turned down, and he seemed to be bracing himself for her to laugh at him.

"That's brilliant Neville! You'll be able to climb trees and collect plants for herbology in places you couldn't reach before." She made sure to smile brightly at him, trying to show him that he was amazing; because it was something he had still yet learned.

"You're right. I could gather more plants in the forest as a squirrel than a man." This seemed to brighten him up, and he hugged her again. "Thank you 'Mione. I really don't know what I'd do without you."

"That's my line." A voice whined from behind them, and Hermione laughed as she was pulled from behind into another hug.

"You smell like you bathed in a tub full of dungbombs." She noted, swatting at Draco's arm playfully. They must have lost track of the time for Quidditch practice to be done.

"You know exactly how to sweet talk a guy now don't you my little witch?" Not waiting for an answer, he turned to Neville. Strangely enough, the two had formed an unlikely friendship during their shared animagus lessons, bonding over their shared love of herbology. "Finally finished the meditation then Longbottom?" Although Draco's patented sneer sat on his face, it was matched by a smirk from Neville who punched his shoulder slightly. "Yeah. Just took your pompous arse leaving the room. It was amazing how much more focus I had once I wasn't choking on your expensive cologne."

Draco laughed at that and placed a hand on Neville's shoulder. "At least you have the taste to tell its expensive." Hermione swatted at his chest again, and Draco took in a sharp breath, prompting Hermione to look at him with concern.

"Nothing to worry about love." He insisted, smoothing his hair back the way he did when he was lying to her. He was normally an excellent liar, but in the two months they'd been dating she'd come to learn his tells. Setting her hands on her hips, she prepared her lecture stance, not even realizing she was doing it. Neville, having seen that stance enough times to know he didn't want to be in Draco's shoes, made his excuses and left quickly.

Draco, who was now staring at the space Neville had been taking up, swallowed loudly. Hermione was right terrifying when she wanted to be.

"Nothing to worry about?" She asked, offering him a chance to tell her before she figured it out on her own.

"Yeah just a very mild broken rib." Holding up his hand to prevent her from interrupting, he continued. "I've already been to see Pomfrey and she said I should be fine in two days."

She could feel her face warming as she prepared her rant. "I have told you lot over and over again that Quidditch is a violent awful game…" Her argument was cut off by a pair of lips descending on hers. She was not prepared to give up on her lecture she had thought up, but she could allow for a few moments of distraction. Every time he kissed her; she could still feel butterflies forming in her stomach. They were both breathless as they separated, and Hermione found she didn't have the heart to keep lecturing him. Nothing she said or did would change Harry, Ron, Ginny, or Draco's mind about Quidditch. Not to mention that she really couldn't take away the thing that he loved most, no matter how nervous it made her.

"What are you and your mother planning for the holidays?" She asked, broaching a topic they'd both been avoiding for some time. They couldn't avoid it anymore however, considering that in a week's time it would be Christmas Day.

"Probably a small Christmas at the manor. We used to throw grand balls every year, but we haven't done in the past few years." It was unspoken; the reason why that was. "We'll likely celebrate on Christmas Eve and spend Christmas Day pretending like nothing is different." There was bitterness in her voice, and she couldn't blame him. If there was anything certain in the world, it was that everything was different.

Hermione nodded her head tightly, placing her hand on his and guiding them to a couch they had transfigured from a set of three desks. Tucking her knees under her, she sat on the one arm. Draco sat next to her, lowering his head into her lap and shivering when she began to run her hands through his hair.

"I'm going to the Burrow. I could ask if you could come to the Burrow for Christmas Day. Mrs. Weasley never turns down someone in need." Draco smiled at his witch but shook his head. As sure as he was that the Weasleys would open their home to him if Hermione asked, he was very aware of everything they had lost because of him and the people he fought alongside.

"I can see what you're thinking, but they don't blame you. I nearly thought I'd get a howler from Mrs. Weasley when that article broke about our relationship, but instead she sent me a letter saying that what the world needed right now was more love." She brushed a stray strand of hair from his face and looked up at him with her big doe eyes. Slytherin as it might be, she knew he couldn't resist her when she looked at him this way. "The Weasleys have forgiven you. Harry has forgiven you. I've forgiven you…when are you going to forgive yourself?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered. Draco's head was full of memories that pointed out exactly why he couldn't forgive himself. Faces of children he tortured, homes he set ablaze…but none of them haunted him more than his initiation into the Death Eaters. He could still see the muggle woman he had murdered, remembering in excruciating detail the way that the life left her eyes. Hermione had been quiet when he'd told her about it when they first became friends. He remembered it well.

"I…you don't have to tell me." She began, failing to prevent her eyes from darting to the mark on his arm. They were working on their potion that was due the next class, and he had rolled up his sleeves. It wasn't often that he allowed his mark to be seen.

Sighing, he finished his stirring before casting a stasis charm on the brew. Holding out his arm for her, she found herself running her fingers along the faded red mark.

"I killed a woman to earn this mark…" He chuckled darkly, though there was no joy in it. "Never even found out her name. She had the terrible luck of being out on the street when the Snatchers arrived. The Dark Lord himself sat in on my initiation; wanted to keep an eye on me. My father…by that point he had just been broken out of Azkaban and I truly believed that if I succeeded where he had failed then maybe I could save them."

"You did what you had to do." Hermione spoke quietly, wrapping her small fingers around his arm. He shivered at her touch and jerked his arm away. She was too beautiful…too good to be touching that horrific reminder of the monster he served.

"And killing that woman is what I had to do?" He growled at her, growing angry at her kindness. Why couldn't she just hate him the way she should have? Why couldn't she just let him wallow? No perfect Hermione Granger had to be kind…had to help the broken.

"Yes." Her voice was small, and he winced at the hurt that was evident in it. "We all did what we had to do. You no more than anyone else. Stop trying to make yourself into a monster. You were a boy who had no choice. Would I rather that woman be alive? Of course! She deserved to live her life just like anyone else. You have blood on your hands that's true. But so do I! What choice did either of us have but to do what we could go survive?" She turned on her heel then, gathering her supplies quickly.

"I had a choice." He called after her, watching her steps slow to a stop. "I had a choice and I was too much of a coward to make it. Dumbledore offered me a way out. He offered me help and I didn't take it." Shame filled his voice, and for a moment, he wondered if he would slip up. If he would let his carefully crafted mask drop.

"I was a selfish coward. That's what this mark represents. Fear and hatred and everything I've done wrong with my life." His voice alternated between outright pain and anger. Turning slowly back to him, there was something unreadable in Hermione's honey toned eyes.

"That's what it represents, but it can be so much more. Use it. Use that anger, that disappointment, and harness it to remind you who you want to be. Never stop working until that's the person you see when you look at yourself. War…well its never going to go away, everyone who died, everyone who suffered, but we can make sure that they didn't suffer in vain." Her voice seemed to echo in the room long after she had finished speaking, the weight of what she'd said hitting him. He dropped onto the stool nearest their potion station and placed a hand over his eyes.

"I got sick right after I did it. I had nightmares for months. Sometimes I still see her face when I close my eyes." He didn't need to look up to know that she was coming closer. Just typical of Granger to go poking her abnormally bushy head where it doesn't belong, he thought.

"I think what scares me the most from the war was how easy it was to hurt people…to kill to survive. I never killed anyone, but I very easily could have. When I saw Lupin and Tonks dead on the floor…if Professor Flitwick hadn't gotten to Dolohov first, I would've murdered him. Without hesitation, I would have ended his life. Don't act as if you are the only person who has done terrible things. For the people I love, I would've done the very thing you hate yourself most for." She walked away from him, and he took a handful of deep breaths before looking up. By the time he did, she was gone. He spent several long moments frozen by the weight of her confession. There were no winners in war, just the broken shells of the people who had fought it.

He had tried so hard to be his father, and now here he was, sitting in an empty potions classroom by the grace of Potter's good word and informing on the Death Eaters. Even in defeat he was a coward, and yet here was one of the winner's and she was just as broken and scarred as he was. He was definitely a worse person, and nothing she'd ever done could outweigh the debt the innocent life he took created, but there was no point in dwelling on the pain.

They had never spoken of her admission to him, but he knew how hard it had been for her to tell him that when he most needed to hear it. "I don't deserve you." He said quietly, looking away from her towards the tapestry that hung on the far wall. It wasn't a particularly interesting thing to look at, but he couldn't bear her eyes.

"As you keep telling me. But I disagree because I deserve to be happy and you make me happy." Placing her hand on his chin, she turned him back to face her. Searching his face for any hint as to what he might be thinking, she brought her lips to his sweetly. "Come to Christmas with me?" She asked as they separated. He laughed at her request, rolling his eyes. "You should've been a Slytherin you sneaky witch. But yes…if they'll have me."

Hermione looked at him victoriously before standing and brushing off the dust from her skirt. "I've got rounds tonight. Walk with me for a bit?"

He nodded, and they continued along quietly until they reached the stairwell. Draco offered to do rounds with her, but she quickly pointed out that he smelled like the wrong end of a hippogriff. "Hermione." Draco called, his feet shifting uneasily as if he was deciding whether or not to say something.

"Yes?" She responded, turning to face him as she paused on the second step of the stairs that led up to where she would need to start her rounds.

"You remember…" He paused and swallowed uncomfortably. "You remember what I told you about how I got this mark?"

Hermione's lips tightened and she paled slightly, remembering their conversation from months before. Nodding her head tightly, her rigid posture and guarded expression displayed how uncomfortable she was with the topic. "I found her." He shoved his hands in his pocket before continuing, purposely looking anywhere but her face. "I asked my mother to find out her name for me. Don't know how she did it, but she did. Her name was Abigail Hetherly. What do I…I can't bring her back to life, so what do I do now? I need to do something…to make sure that I never forget…that no one ever forgets."

Hermione took a deep breath before responding. The silver glisten of tears threatening to spill over. Of all the things Draco had done in the war, this was the one she had had the hardest time coping with. Comforting him in the moment when he had told her seemed right, but it had taken her weeks to come to terms with the fact that a boy she knew could be a murderer. "Do you know where…if she was buried?"

Draco shook his head, the shame he felt draping over him like a well-tailored set of robes; made to fit him exactly. "That would be a start. Maybe your family could donate space somewhere to have a memorial built, for all the innocent lives lost in the war. For all those who lost their lives in a fight they didn't even know was happening." He nodded slowly, the frown on his face deepening. Trying to find the words to respond, everything seemed to fail him, and he found himself wishing her a goodnight and walking towards the staircase.

Rounds were quick (which Hermione was incredibly grateful for), and she made her way back up to Gryffindor tower only an hour after curfew. Her talk with Draco had exhausted her, and she had spent the better part of her hour doing rounds coming up with a few more ideas for the memorial.

"How'd rounds go?" Ginny asked, looking up from her Quidditch playbook as she heard the door open. It was too late for it to be anyone else, so she knew it had to be Hermione. The curly-haired witch just grunted in response, managing to make it to the couch before plopping down very ungracefully. She loved Ginny, but she wasn't quite ready to tell her about what she had talked to Draco about just yet. "That well huh?" Ginny laughed briefly before stretching and closing up her book. "Neville said Malfoy looked a bit hurt after practice. Don't suppose there's any way he's out for the rest of the season? It would make planning a whole bloody lot easier."

Hermione worked up the energy to glare at her ginger friend, but that was all. Sitting on the stone floor with Neville for so long had caused a soreness to begin growing in her arse, and she just wanted to go to bed. Her conversation with Draco had left her emotionally exhausted as well. "Gin I might need you to levitate me up the stairs. I don't want to move." She whined, glaring again when Ginny laughed at her. Throwing a nearby throw pillow at Hermione, the assaulted witch groaned, but eventually made her way off the sofa. "You are a terrible friend." Hermione observed, sticking her tongue out before walking the few short steps over to the dorm entrance. Ginny bounded up the stairs two at a time and shot Hermione a wink before disappearing into their room. Hermione followed suit, and not soon enough was dozing off, tucked into the warm comfort of her bed.

- December 18, 1998 -

"I'll be seeing yer after the New Year." Hagrid offered, Fang following closely on his heel. He had come to send off the students as they headed home for the holidays. There were a number of students who for one reason or another had no home to go to for Christmas, more than had been in the past years combined.

"Yes. I'll pop round for tea when I get back. Happy Christmas Hagrid." Hermione spoke, pulling a neatly wrapped brown package from her pocket. She gave him strict instructions not to open the parcel until Christmas morning, but he was blubbering too loudly to properly hear her instructions. She did her best to calm him, but after one particularly soggy hug, she moved on to say her other goodbyes. Leora stopped her as she was about to enter the train, which was not unsurprising but was also unexpected.

"I wanted to thank you for introducing me to Viktor. We've been owling each other since the Halloween Ball. I'm going to be seeing him when the Romanian team comes to play at Chudley for the New Year." Hermione's face lit up to see that her little attempt at matchmaking had worked out, and she was taken by surprise again when the usually reserved Ravenclaw drew heer into a friendly hug. They both boarded the train and went their separate ways. Hermione found her way to the largest car on the train, finding Ginny, Neville, Hannah, Draco, and Theo sitting there. Ginny and Draco were arguing about something that sounded vaguely like Quidditch. Neville and Hannah were chatting quietly with each other – and Hermione doubted they even noticed she'd entered the car.

"No Daphne today Theo?" She asked, settling in next to the tall boy. His hair was more disheveled than normal, and it made her worry that something had happened between the two.

"She's with her sister. They haven't seen each other much lately, what with Daphne falling madly in love with me. Why so curious? Eager to get back into my arms? Draco not the man you've always dreamed of?" Theo went to put his arm around the witch. Hermione didn't have to respond though as Draco shot a light stinging hex at Theo's arm. "Careful with my witch there Nott." Draco commented, sliding into the seat next to Theo. For his part, the Slytherin held his hands up in a display of surrender. Blaise and Pansy were sitting in another compartment somewhere with some other Slytherins, so she was likely the last person to join their group.

"What are you and Hannah doing for the hols?" Hermione asked, leaning into Draco's embrace as he placed an arm around her. She giggled quietly as Theo winked at her. He loved causing trouble.

"Well I'm visiting with my dad. We'll likely go visit mum's grave Christmas day then we're going over to Nev's. It'll be my first time meeting his Gran and I'm terrified." Neville squeezed her hand lightly, using his other hand to brush some hair from her face. "Gran will love you if she has any sense left. You're amazing love. Plus I'm quite taken with you so she doesn't have much choice." He placed a chaste kiss on her lips, which was met with a groan and gagging motion from Ginny.

"I'm going to visit my parents tomorrow. Christmas is a little too hectic to manage a trip to St. Mungo's but I want to make sure to go." Neville looked at Hannah. "Gran's insisting on cleaning the manor, since we're going to have guests. Its worth it though." He placed another kiss on Hannah's cheek, and Hermione found herself sighing in contentment.

"I swear to Circe you lot are disgusting. Can't a girl get a little sympathy that her boyfriend doesn't go to Hogwarts. If it's not you two…" She gestured to Neville and Hannah, "Its you two. Bloody disgusting." She gestured to Draco and Hermione. Hannah blushed a deep shade of red, but Hermione just stuck out her tongue. "Revenge for all the times I had to watch you snog Harry senseless in the common room. Merlin knows how I managed not to vomit everywhere all of sixth year." Draco tensed beside her, and Hermione realized her mistake. She leaned into him a little harder and waited for his eyes to meet hers. While there was something there, it wasn't the outright pain that there used to be when their sixth year was brought up.

"Mother was talking about throwing a New Year's ball. You'd all be invited, of course. She says that its about time the Manor returned to its legacy of great parties and society gatherings." Draco announced, not missing the excited glimmer in Ginny's eye as she learned of another chance to dress up. For someone who identified as such a tomboy, Hermione was shocked how much Ginny loved dressing up in fancy gowns.

"So what are you up to Theo? It's the first Christmas without your father. What are you planning to occupy your time with?" Theo straightened a bit at the question, but his shell didn't crack, his smile never faltered.

"Oh the usual." He responded, vaguely. Hermione, never one to leave well-enough alone, pressed him for details.

"Likely I'll spend the break drinking Odgen's finest and wallowing in the empty halls of my home as a reminder of the monsters I am now free from." Draco gave a nod of understanding towards his friend, but Hermione shot up.

"Oh I had assumed that you'd spend the day with the Greengrasses." Hermione prodded, trying to gauge his response to her inquiry.

"Merlin no. I'm besotted with the witch, but her parents are…traditional. If I go over there for Christmas day, I might as well bring an engagement ring." Hannah and Hermione shot their boyfriends similar apprehensive looks, and Neville and Draco locked eyes and began to laugh. Neville was the first person to break the silence. "No worries there Hannah. Gran is not going to demand I propose to you if you visit. And your dad doesn't seem the quick engagement type."

Draco just chuckled half-heartedly and nodded along with Neville's sentiment. Hermione, turning back to Theo, pulled her lips into a devilish smirk. "Theo what would you say to a home cooked meal on Christmas?"