Sophie Roper was sick of it.

She was sick to death of Hogwarts' elitism. Just because she had never broken a rule in her entire academic career meant that she was consistently ignored by her teachers? Sophie had achieved some of the highest marks in her year. But because she was in the same classes as Hermione bloody Granger she was never rewarded? Bullshit. Granger had shown no more than utter contempt for her fellow female students, Sophie included. Sophie had thought she was a stuck-up bitch with a stick up her arse. God, she'd love to show that cow one day.

But that Harry Potter was another issue altogether. He never studied but always did brilliantly in Defence Against the Dark Arts? More bullshit. And sixth year Potions? That was suspicious to the highest degree. Sophie had thought that Potter's new abilities had had some strange connection to Snape's betrayal, but god forbid she spoke these worries aloud. He'd spent his whole time at Hogwarts getting handouts and away with shit no other student would.

Sophie had spent seven years harbouring her anger. It was as if she was the only person in the world who didn't like these people. Was she missing something? What did they get that she didn't? Her so called peers had only continually ruined her education for her.

Every year. Every fucking year. There was something else. Another mystery, another dead body and another DADA professor. It was maddening and frustrating. It was like a contest to see if they could beat themselves at the trouble they caused the previous year.

It hadn't even been a surprise to her that Harry Potter had been allowed to leave school and be streamlined into becoming an Auror. She didn't even bat an eyelid when Hermione Granger had appeared back in her classes after the holidays. Sophie would never be rid of them and she'd finally accepted it.

But now? All Sophie had wanted to do was ask Professor Weasley a question about the essay he had assigned. She was almost finished but wasn't sure if she was going in the right direction with it, so she'd stayed after class.

Sophie had successfully been ignoring Granger since term had started, but for some reason the bushy-haired snob had also stayed behind. Sophie rolled her eyes as she sat on a desk near the front of the room, waiting on Professor Weasley to be finished with Malfoy.

Granger looked worried. Sophie wondered why. What did Miss Perfect have to worry about? It's not like she had to study to get good grades to get a good job; she'd walk straight into one even now. But her fidgeting and glances to the DADA office door had Sophie's interest.

Then, as the door above them opened and slammed shut, both Sophie and Granger moved to the bottom of the stairs. Sophie glared at Granger; be damned if Sophie wasn't going first. But Granger took a step back when Ron Weasley appeared at the top of the stairs.

Sophie almost smiled. So this was why she was nervous. Sophie couldn't have wished to witness a better scene. She'd seen the papers and she even knew about Malfoy. If anyone else living in the eighth-year dorm hadn't noticed anything going on between them, they'd have been either blind or complete idiots.

Weasley wasn't as bad as the other two. Sophie had spoken to him a few times over the years, and he seemed much more down to earth. He hadn't deserved what Granger had done to him.

"Ron…" Granger said, the nervousness clear in her voice. "What are you… is Draco…"

At the mention of Malfoy, Weasley's face contorted and he began to storm down the stairs. Sophie stepped out the way, expecting him to barge past between them.

But instead, Sophie saw Weasley coming straight for her. She barely had time to take a breath before his lips were on hers. He was kissing her! Sophie was being kissed by Ron Weasley! In front of Hermione Granger! Sophie felt… wow… she hadn't expected to enjoy it this much. She felt her knees cave beneath her.

He pulled away sooner than she'd surprisingly hoped. Weasley looked at her for a moment, visibly flushed. Sophie could see the confusion on his face – she felt it too. He gave her a fleeting smile and brushed his hand gently on her lower back before pulling away entirely and walking straight past Granger and out of the room.

Sophie didn't care that she was grinning. She also didn't care that Weasley might not even speak to her again. Granger looked awful and Sophie had had a good old snogging. Forgetting entirely about her essay, Sophie floated past Granger and out the door.

…

"He is not a threat, I swear!"

Harry was going around in circles. How could be possibly prove to the Ministry that Regulus Black, ex-Death Eater, was not a threat to their new peace and Death Eater free society?

He'd been put in an interview room, which was usually reserved for criminals under interrogation. Bringing Regulus back was really starting to bite Harry in the ass. Molly had gone straight to Kingsley about what she'd seen i.e. a living, breathing Regulus Black in Grimmauld Place. Little did she know, the Minister already knew. Therefore, Harry had been dragged in to be 'questioned'.

"Trust me, Regulus Black deserves to be back in society," Harry repeated. "He's done nothing wrong! He tried to help bring down Voldemort!"

Thornton Jones was Harry's Auror Commander, and while he was a small man, he was a scary one. Harry respected him, but Jones' stubbornness was relentless and it was getting them nowhere.

"Being Harry Potter won't fix everything, you know," Jones replied.

Harry clenched his hands into fists. "I'm not saying this because I'm Harry Potter," he ground out. "I'm saying this because it's true. Go on, prove it. Use Veritaserum." Harry stared his commander down.

Jones opened his mouth, but as he did so, the door opened behind him. Kingsley's tall frame was a welcome sight to Harry. Surely the Minister would believe him?

"I'll take it from here, Thornton. Thank you." When the door closed, Kingsley sat down in front of Harry. He sighed. "I'm rather fed up of this, aren't you?"

"Why am I here, Kingsley?"

"You know, you should really refer to me as Minister."

Harry glared at him.

Kingsley sighed. "We were waiting to clear Draco Malfoy until we announced another redeemed Death Eater to the public."

Harry's eyes stayed narrowed, but he understood to a degree. He was still pissed though. "Doesn't explain why I'm being treated like a criminal," Harry replied bitterly.

Kingsley looked uncomfortable at this. "Yes, well…" he began. "That was not my intention. Knowing what to do in times like these is rather difficult."

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Harry continued to glare at Kingsley; he was disappointed. What was it about the Minister's position that made previously strong people into weak, pathetic ones?

Harry shook his head slowly. "You know this is a mess. You've had a whole month to figure out what to do with Regulus. Plus, you've allowed me to be suspended from work this entire time, for what? Saving a man's life who made one mistake and paid the price trying to rectify that with his life?"

The two men stared at each other across the table. Harry's heart was beating fast. He couldn't figure out what Kingsley's expression meant. Harry stood up.

"If you have as much decency in you as I remember, you'd let me go home to tell Regulus that he finally has the freedom he's been waiting his whole life for. And you shall let me return to work, where I do what I do best – fixing the Ministry's mess."

Harry was a little shocked at what had come pouring out of his mouth; but it was true and no one had been listening to him. He'd respected Kingsley so much before, and hoped this would give him the opportunity to regain it. Didn't stop Harry from feeling like he'd shit himself though; Kingsley could take him any day and that's just verbally.

When Kingsley remained seated, Harry relaxed a little. He seemed to be no more than slightly bemused by Harry's outburst.

"Being Harry Potter shall certainly not fix everything," Kingsley said slowly and calmly as Harry began to bristle. "But your stubborn tenacity should do the trick." Kingsley surprised Harry by looking up with a smirk on his face.

A smile slowly grew on Harry's face. Maybe he would have good news to bring home to Regulus after all.

…

My darling Hannah,

I'm so glad to hear that school is going so well – you know how worried we were! Home is fine, but your poor boy Digby is missing you so very much. So much that he's decided to drive the other dogs in the street mad with his whining! Work at the Ministry is also fine: same old, same old. Susan keeps asking about you, I think she feels guilty about leaving. Please write to her.

But about your questions about the Hogwarts Founders – what brought that on? Is there a project at school that you want help with? Because this may be a topic your old dad could actually help you with. You know how long I've waited for you to need help with your magical history homework.

Off the top of my head I can tell you that yes, the Founding Four did indeed not use wands – they had no need for them. But bound by blood magic? I could say for certain that I have never found anything referring to that before. However, that does not mean it's not true. It would be very interesting if it were…

I'm so very pleased to have you write to me with such gushing comments about school and your friends – it's all a parent worries about, trust me. I'm even more pleased to see your interest in magical history. Maybe following your dad into a career in that is on the cards? No, of course I'm not scouting for jobs already…

It's my pleasure to look into the recorded Founders history for you, my little banana. The Black family, on the other hand, may be more difficult. The old families tend to keep their history very close to home, rather literally in most cases. But I shall try my best for my big girl.

Write more often.

Love always,

Dad xo

…

Draco was fine and unharmed as Hermione had discovered. She almost didn't believe him when he'd said Ron had barely said or even done anything to him. They were walking back to the tower after Hermione had stormed up the stairs to Bill's office after Ron had left. Draco had walked straight into her at the doorway, very clearly not unconscious as Hermione had anticipated.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, prodding Draco's arm for the umpteenth time. The hallway was empty after all classes had finished for the day and her voice echoed slightly.

Draco surprised her by wrapping said poked arm around her shoulders. He grinned widely down at her. Hermione's stomach dropped straight to the floor. Breathe, you stupid girl, she thought. Breathe!

"Hermione," he said slowly and in a way that made Hermione want to cross her legs. "I have never felt better, believe me."

They stopped walking and Hermione turned to face him. She looked intensely at his open, smiling face and partial embrace. For a moment, she was transported back to the first time she'd met Draco Malfoy; eleven years old and on the Hogwarts Express. Who'd have thought they would make it to here? She smiled for a moment before realising: what was 'here' exactly?

Hermione looked down as her hands intertwined with his. "What is this?" she asked, not meeting his eyes. "What are we doing?"

In response, Draco cradled her cheek with his hand and a gentleness Hermione didn't know he had.

"I don't know," he replied honestly. "But it feels nice."

Hermione closed her eyes and leaned into the contact. It did feel nice. So nice that she didn't want to question whether if it was also right. But god, did it feel right in that moment.

She opened her eyes as he moved both hands down to her elbows. Oh my god he's going to kiss me! Hermione thought in a sudden panic as she noticed the look on his face. It didn't matter that they'd kissed before; Draco had caught her off guard then. Plus, the second kiss is always more important than the first. Especially when the first was so good.

As Draco began to lean in, Hermione thought she truly could not breathe for a solid three seconds. She should not be this nervous about kissing someone! She'd done it plenty of times before, so what was it about Draco that made her so nervous?

All of Hermione's nerves and doubts vanished as he closed the last gap and their lips met. The whole process just felt so natural as she could not remember closing her eyes, or wrapping her arms around his neck. Then, as their tongues met and bodies relaxed into each other, Hermione was certain.

Certain that she wanted this to happen again.

…

Regulus felt a little guilty. Well, a lot guilty if he really thought about it, but he was trying not to do that. He hadn't meant to open the door; he was surprised that the bell had rang at all. Most of their – mainly Harry's – visitors just Apparated straight in. Regulus hadn't really thought about how people didn't know that he was… here.

A burly Auror had come to 'collect' Harry within moments of Molly Prewett… Weasley's Disapparition. Regulus gulped at the thought of Harry locked up in the Ministry or worse. He owed Harry a lot, and not just for resurrecting him, but for all the kindness he'd shown Regulus since. And for doing all he could for Sirius when he could.

Regulus couldn't really remember Molly Weasley. He sure remembered her younger twin brothers though. They had been in their seventh year when Regulus started Hogwarts and he never forgot the first time he saw their magical reckless abandonment – he'd never seen wizards more free with themselves. They were loud-mouthed, trouble-making Gryffindors, but that hadn't stopped Regulus admiring Gideon and Fabian Prewett from afar. They were everything Regulus could and would never be.

As well as Harry, Regulus also felt guilty about the pie Molly had dropped upon his appearance. It had smelled really good. He'd had to clean it up magically, unable to salvage it. But that was another thing Regulus didn't understand; why the Ministry had allowed him to keep his wand while being kept under such surveillance? They clearly didn't trust him, so why did they allow him the freedom to perform magic? If he was being completely honest, Regulus suspected that the Ministry didn't know what they were doing.

Regulus considered contacting Hermione several times; she would know what to do. Ever since he'd awoken to her touch in his bedroom, Regulus had subconsciously recognised her as the backbone of them all. Of course he didn't care that she was a Muggle-Born – she was fucking brilliant. Plus, Regulus knew first-hand that purebloods were not the best of the best. But he'd learned that the hard way.

It was hours before Harry came home, and when he did, he appeared right in front of Regulus, between the couch and the roaring fire, well after Kreacher had served dinner. Regulus shot out of his seat and raised his wand, before lowering it after realising who it was.

"So?" was all Regulus could muster.

Harry sighed and dropped into an armchair. "I start back work on Monday."

Regulus sat on the couch opposite, leaning forward on his knees in anticipation. "And?"

"And…" Harry repeated, lengthening the word. "You'll be on the front cover of the Daily Prophet tomorrow."

Regulus pulled a face. He had half-expected something like this; but that didn't mean he wanted it. "Tell me they picked a good photo."

Harry laughed. "I said to pick a Quidditch one."

Regulus nodded in approval. "And I'm guessing you made a statement?"

"In which I declared my secret, undying love for you."

Harry's serious tone made Regulus snort abruptly and laugh loudly. "Good," he replied, unable to keep a straight face. "I'm sick of leading two lives."

They both laughed at this.

"The only thing is…" Harry began.

Regulus cringed. Of course there would be a catch. "Just hit me with it."

"Kingsley suggested that you go back to Hogwarts." Harry paused afterwards, waiting for Regulus' reaction.

Regulus was confused. "But… I graduated?" he said, as though he was unsure if he had.

Harry scratched his head and frowned. "I know, but because it was twenty years ago, and during Voldemort's peak reign, Kingsley thinks that it would help your reputation if you seemed to want to further your education. I mean, you have missed a lot."

Regulus could tell by Harry's tone that he also thought it was a good idea. "And it's an easy way to keep an eye on me, right?" he asked, accusingly. Regulus remembered Kingsley Shacklebolt from school: the most perfect Head Boy there ever was. His presence, well at least among the second years, was more like a teacher's. Kingsley had a sense for trouble that was on par with Professor McGonagall's. It hadn't surprised Regulus to learn that he had become Minister of Magic.

"It'll be easier to get a job afterwards," Harry replied with a shrug.

"A job?" Regulus began to laugh. "I'd be the first Black to ever be employed."

Harry smiled, but he didn't seem amused. "Reg, I think you should go back," he said seriously. "Even if it is a piss-take, think about it as an investment for the future. You'd be integrating yourself back into society and making potentially important contacts."

That certainly appealed to the Slytherin in Regulus, which he knew Harry was targeting. But he did have a point. With the exception of his cousins, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Hannah, Regulus didn't know anyone. If he was to go forward in life, he really needed to expand it.

Regulus groaned and put his head in his hands, rubbing his face hard. "Urgh, fuck… fine! I'll go back. Damn you, Potter."

Harry grinned. "You'll have fun, I promise. Plus, I think you'll enjoy the living arrangements." He smirked at Regulus' confused expression.

Whatever Harry meant by that, Regulus actually began to feel a little nervous.

Regulus was going back to Hogwarts.

A/N: Shorter, but progressing. Hope you like it, and as always, please review. Let me know what's hot and what's not.

Holly - xo