A/N: The prologue is intentionally written as an attempt to mirror JK's style and the style of the openings of the early novels, which is quite different from my own personal style and the style I imagine readers generally expect to see when starting a new fanfic. But bear with me, it's all part of the plan.

This fic is my endeavor to write — within the limits of my capabilities — the most plausible, definitive case for the Dramione ship. I've read a ton of great Dramione fanfic over the years (looking at you lovesbitca8), but I really wanted to see something that was very strictly canon-compliant. Since I couldn't find exactly what I was looking for, I figured that was a sign that I should take up the mantle. It's your job to write the stories you want to read.

That means there will be no prior relationship or attraction between Draco and Hermione — just as there is not one shown between them in the books. This also means the maturity of the content will only be slightly more explicit than what is shown in the novels, though I could be persuaded to include a side-story or two with more, ahem, adult content if it feels right.

Enjoy!

SAVE YOURSELF
Prologue: Trouble

Harry Potter was a most unusual young man and not for the reasons one might expect.

Harry was a wizard; this fact alone made him quite strange. However, in truth, this was one of the most ordinary things about him. Over the last ten years, Harry had come to learn just how many wizards (and witches) there were in the world, and just how old and established the wizarding society actually was. Despite having lived most of his early years as a Muggle (non-wizarding folk), Harry had already learned to take much of the wizarding world for granted and had left behind the Muggle world with great ease.

What made Harry Potter unusual was not his magical heritage, no. Rather, he was unusual because of the great amount of perilous trouble that seemed to follow him wherever he went.

As early as his first birthday, Harry was faced with mortal danger. Harry's parents had been murdered at the hands of a Dark Wizard named Lord Voldemort — a man that Harry had spent the better part of the last decade battling despite being an underage wizard who had only recently become aware of his magical ability.

However, with the help of his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, and the guidance of many older wizards, Harry had managed to defeat Voldemort in a fierce battle at his former wizarding academy, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

After this battle (which had aptly come to be known as The Battle of Hogwarts), Harry hoped that his life would settle into a semblance of normalcy and that his most troubled days would be behind him.

Unfortunately for Harry, the last few months had been some of the most difficult and distressing of his life. The struggles he faced now were not so exceptional; he had confronted many dangerous and mysterious circumstances in his quest to defeat Voldemort. However, for the first time in his life, he found that he was facing them completely alone.

Practically all of the wizards and witches who had guided him through his past trials were now gone; so many had perished at the hands of Dark Wizards known as Death Eaters as they tried to protect him and put an end to Voldemort's reign of power. And now his closest friends, Ron and Hermione, who had always been at his side through thick and thin…

Harry tried to put it out of his mind as he made his way to his desk in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry worked as an Auror — a highly-trained magical law enforcement officer — and with these resources at his disposal, Harry was certain that very soon he would have a plan of action which would solve all of their problems; he just needed more time and focus to fit all of the puzzle pieces together.

Harry knew that Hermione was also working on her own theories, but he felt it best to leave her to herself for awhile. With all that had happened, he found she was quite easy to cross lately, and he knew she would owl him once she had made any meaningful discoveries. Hermione often preferred to do research alone without interference from others who might slow her down. Thought by many to be the cleverest witch in a generation, Hermione was a far more skilled and efficient researcher than Harry could ever hope to be.

Still, it stung a bit, knowing how long it had been since he had last seen her. Worse, it had also been weeks since he had last seen his best friend Ron Weasley, and his absence from Harry's life was not as simple to explain.

Harry couldn't be sure, but he suspected that Ron blamed Harry for Hermione's recent elusiveness. Harry also suspected that Ron had (correctly) guessed that Harry knew more about Hermione's problem than he was letting on.

It was not Harry's intention to keep such things from Ron, but Hermione's secret was not Harry's to share. She had confided in Harry and told him that she would explain everything to Ron in due course. Harry was not comfortable with this arrangement at all, especially because Ron and Hermione were now a couple. However, he had agreed to remain in Hermione's confidence until she was ready, if only because Harry expected that together they would find a quick resolution.

Unfortunately, Harry had quite underestimated the difficulty and severity of this task. Days and weeks had stretched into months and the happy and relatively peaceful life that he and his two best friends had formed in the aftermath of the war had begun to crumble. Every day seemed colorless and even the comfort and happiness he felt at home with his girlfriend Ginny was not nearly enough to ease his horribly troubled mind.

No sooner had Harry placed his folio case inside his desk drawer than a great hawk owl landed on the corner of his desk with a shrill hoot, a small roll of parchment tied to its foot. Harry knew right away this was not Ministry business — the Ministry of Magic and most other public owleries generally used common barn owls and tawny owls for their mail delivery. In fact, Harry had only seen an owl like this maybe once or twice since becoming a wizard.

Harry untied the parchment from the owl's uncooperative foot. At once, the proud bird dramatically swept away, gouging scratches into the wood of his desk as it pushed off. Harry had the distinct impression that the bird found him to be personally intolerable. However, Harry paid the departing owl little mind; the contents of the small parchment held him in rapt attention.

You need to visit Granger.

She's not well.

Alarmed, Harry turned over the letter, hoping to find the name of the sender, but there was nothing. Just two simple sentences scratched out in neat but unremarkable scrawl, the second line written near the bottom of the small scrap, as though it had been included as an afterthought.

He read the letter again, closing his mind to the chatter of the other Aurors and the whizzing sounds of flying purple memos, searching for a deeper meaning behind the vague message.

Who else knows?

The people who were aware of Hermione's problem numbered very few and practically all of them were in this very room. So why would any of them send him an owl?

Harry's heart jumped a little as he considered his options.

Maybe it was just a concerned soul who felt something was amiss and wanted to raise the flag. Someone like Tom at the Leaky Cauldron.

'That must be it!,' Harry thought, feeling a powerful rush of relief. He knew Hermione had been staying there for quite some time. Surely Tom or some other lodger simply found her reclusive, testy demeanor worrisome. However, no sooner had this assured theory come afloat than doubt began to scuttle it.

If it was Tom or someone else, why didn't they sign the letter? And what about that owl? It was an unusual breed. Not exactly a white peacock, but—

Harry's heart jumped again. His breath caught.

Granger.

Harry tapped one finger on his desk, his thoughts slow and deep. A tiny, involuntarily noise hummed in his throat. He bit his lip, not sure he could wrap his head around what might be the obvious truth.

He slowly folded the letter and slipped it into the pocket against his chest, feeling for a moment the quickened pace of his own heartbeat.

It said 'Granger.'

This was definitely a sign of trouble.