A/N

Hi friends! Yes I know it's been an age, and technically I have a fic that needs completing. However, I've completely lost the plot of that fic, so I will be leaving it incomplete for the time being. Meanwhile, enjoy this new one.

Chapter 1

August

The Hogwarts Library was a library like no other. The distinction between this library and the next is not being made because the Hogwarts Library contained magical books, no, all books were magical. The Hogwarts Library was different because it remembered. Thousands upon thousands of students passed through her doors, each with stories as intricate as the stories contained on dusty shelves in forgotten corners of the library. And the library remembered them all. They filled her, changed her. Each story added a different corner, a new shelf, a large leather-bound tome. The library wanted them to feel at home, so she grew. Some parts of her had long ago faded after centuries had passed, the students long forgotten by their peers. Yet she remembered. She offered comfort to those who needed it, gave knowledge to those who sought it and protected those who wanted it. She was the keeper of stories, and no story was more heart-breaking than that of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.

It was late August, the last bit of summer still clung to the air, stubborn in its departure. Hermione Granger stood at the entrance to the library, a fond smile on her face. The library felt as much like home as the rest of the castle, maybe even more so. Her hand gently slid down the wood of the door, wanting to take in as much of the library as she could. She had missed this. A year of trekking through the forest and putting her life on the line to destroy a dark lord made her yearn for home.

She took a step, then another, venturing into the library. School had not officially started yet, but she had come early to speak to the new headmistress, Professor McGonagall. So much of her childhood had been dedicated to fighting Voldemort, and now that the fight was over, she didn't exactly know what to make of herself. She had done the most meaningful thing she could at age 18, and now the rest of her life seemed irrelevant.

"I don't know what to do," she had confessed to Professor McGonagall earlier that day as she sat in the headmistress' office. The older woman handed her a cup of tea, her face stern as always, but her eyes compassionate. "The ministry has offered me a position immediately, even though I never completed my NEWTs."

"Do you want to work for the ministry?" McGonagall asked, taking a seat behind the headmistress' desk. The office had changed considerably since Dumbledore's time. The room seemed somehow lighter, smaller, cosier. Hermione felt as if she were visiting her grandmother, safe and able to speak freely.

"I do," she said. "I'm just not sure if I want to work for them straight away. We were at war not three months ago."

Professor McGonagall took a deep breath. She had often seen this in her students, a reluctance to move on, to start a life and a career. Most wanted to remain sheltered at Hogwarts, where things were easy and where it seemed like time will never pass. "And that is why you wish to return?"

Hermione nodded. She had written to McGonagall in the hopes that the headmistress might allow her to return to Hogwarts for her seventh year.

"There is nothing the NEWTs will teach you, child, not after all you've gone through."

"I don't believe that's entirely true Professor. There is always more to learn." Hermione took a tentative sip of her tea. She was not ready to leave it all behind yet. Hogwarts was her home, and there was still much more to learn from those hallowed halls. She had always loved books, the way they smelled and the knowledge they contained. She loved learning, and perhaps this was exactly what she needed after the war. So much death and destruction, and now there was only peace. It had been jarring at first. It felt almost like a fever dream as if the illusion would shatter any moment and reality would come crashing down on them again. For the first month after the war Hermione fully expected Voldemort to come rushing back with his army at any moment.

"I suppose so. You're more than welcome to return Miss Granger. Perhaps you might take this time to rest, and to heal." McGonagall's face softened. "You look tired."

It was true. Hermione hadn't been sleeping well these past few months. She was constantly wound up and ready to go into battle with an enemy that no longer existed. "I am. Everything just feels so off-kilter. I feel off-kilter. I don't sleep. Harry can barely leave Grimmauld Place without being mobbed and Ron –" She cut herself off, knowing that if she continued everything she had been keeping locked away inside might threaten to spill out. The cup shook in her hand.

McGonagall reached over, grasping Hermione's free hand. "Then come back to Hogwarts and rest my dear. Take your time, you have plenty."

Hermione had been grateful for Professor McGonagall, especially now as she sat in the library. The quiet that surrounded her might just be the thing she needed most right now. She was confident she could pass her NEWTs easily, and perhaps she needed to lose herself in something other than death and despair. Hogwarts would be good for her. Hogwarts would welcome her home.

September

If there had been any doubt in Hermione's mind about coming back to Hogwarts it was promptly erased the minute she sat down in the library, ready to do her Potions homework. This was where she belonged. Hermione thought she knew the library well, but as she was searching for a quiet spot away from the mass of student followers she seemed to be gaining, she discovered a new spot, hidden away between the Herbology and Muggle Studies shelves. A small fire burned in the fireplace underneath the large windows that looked out over the lake. Two chairs that looked like she could happily sink into them stood next to the fireplace. Two desks stood a few feet away, pushed together to be facing each other. She was sure she had never been in this part before, even though she knew the library like the back of her hand. Never the less, it was secluded enough that no one would bother her here.

She had sat next to Ginny at the welcoming dinner, the redhead talking animatedly to a few other seventh years. A head girl badge shone brightly on Ginny's chest, and although Hermione was proud of her friend, she couldn't help but feel a little pang of jealousy. If all had gone according to how she wanted it to go, she would have been head girl the year before. It felt like such a trivial thing to be sad about, but she couldn't help herself. It was the little things she missed the most, all those little things the war had taken from her. She unconsciously ran her fingers over her forearm, tracing the lines she knew hid underneath her long-sleeved shirt. So many little things.

Professor McGonagall stepped up to the podium, her smile bright as she welcomed all students and the new first years. Hogwarts had repaired itself, with the help of some magic of course. Hermione didn't know how Ginny could stand it, being in the same hall which only months ago was filled with the bodies of their loved ones. Hermione could see the grief on Ginny, the dark circles under her eyes and the too sharp cheekbones, yet Ginny remained adamantly cheerful.

"It's what they would have wanted, all of those who cannot be here with us tonight," Ginny told Hermione later in the evening. "I refuse to waste a second of life, it's too precious for that. It can be taken away too easily."

Hermione had smiled politely and clapped as the first years went through their sorting, cheering loudly as new first-years joined the Gryffindor table. They all seemed to stare at her in wonder, some of the senior students as well. Her part in the war hadn't been a secret, and the ministry had made a big show of awarding Ron, Harry and her with the Order of Merlin, First Class. They were the youngest wizards to have ever received the honour, and it too made waves in the wizarding world.

It was only the second day of classes and everywhere she went students followed her, wanting to hear stories about Horcrux hunting. They had looked at Hermione with a sense of wonder and amazement as if her stories were adventures in a book, not a gruelling reality. She had to get away from the crowds, and this secluded corner in the library was the perfect place to do it. She sat down at one of the tables, pulling out her books, quills and parchments. She already felt better now that she had some semblance of routine in her life again. She could easily lose herself in the comfort of books and parchment. She didn't mind the workload either, it kept her mind distracted. She opened her potion's book, ready to start her essay due on Thursday when she heard footsteps approaching. She sighed, readying to tell whoever had discovered her hiding place that she had to finish her homework and would not be telling war stories at this time. Her head snapped up as the footsteps stopped and her eyes widened. Draco Malfoy stood in front of her, his platinum blonde hair slicked back, as usual, his robes all in perfect order even after a long day of classes. His shirt was tucked in and his tie still sat in its proper place. He was glaring at her as if she had done something wrong, which in his eyes she probably had.

"What are you doing here Granger?" He spat, years of contempt seeping through his tone. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"This is a library Malfoy, in case you've forgotten. It's not illegal for students to do their homework here."

He looked at her as if she had sprouted another head. "I meant in this part of the library. How did you find it?" He had been using this part of the library for years. It was secluded and private, and he needed it now. It wasn't easy being a famous Death Eater at Hogwarts.

Hermione shrugged before continuing with her potions homework. "I found it." If he was going to be petty about a spot in the library, then she wasn't going to waste any time entertaining him about it. There was another desk open that he was welcome to make use of.

Draco glared at her, his anger simmering. He had come to the one place in all of Hogwarts he knew no one would bother him, only to find Hermione Granger already seated there. His lip curled in disgust. He was not the sharing type, especially not with Granger. He stood there for a few more seconds before turning on his heel to find some other spot. He would let her have this one for now, but he certainly was not going to back down. He didn't care how petty it was, she had invaded his private space. He had been using that corner of the library since their third year, and it was always a place of solace for him. None of his friends knew where to find him, and he also wouldn't have to deal with any stupid Gryffindors. No, Draco Malfoy didn't back down so easily.

"This is far from over Granger," he said in a low voice over his shoulder.

"I believe it's just begun Malfoy," she threw back, not bothering to look up from her parchment.