CW: Discussion of abuse (violence is not depicted but is alluded to) and being alone with one's abuser.
Beta/Alpha work done by december_noon. More Beta love to datingstilinski1967, rosenymphadoraweasley5, and crookshankscrew.
Hermione boarded the Hogwarts Express without fanfare.
She had no one on the platform to wish a tearful goodbye to. Her parents were still in Australia with no memory of her. The Weasleys were preoccupied with each other and with Harry. The reporters were fascinated with the Chosen One and his post-war romance with Ginny after a summer of very public dates and engagement rumors. And so, she slipped away to find a compartment and a few moments of peace. After months of chaos, Hermione was looking forward to a few quiet moments.
The weeks following the final battle were a whirlwind of grief. Then, the trials started. Hermione was horrified to learn that her classmates were being included in the list of Death Eaters, especially when the vast majority of them weren't even marked. She'd petitioned Kingsley to dismiss the cases entirely, but he was handing decisions to the Wizengamot entirely so he could focus on stabilizing the Wizarding World. She immediately drafted up arguments and researched Wizarding Law to petition the Wizengamot for absolute dismissal or at the very most, community service and parole. After a week of lecturing and questioning the committee, Hermione had finally worn them down enough and won the battle.
Her efforts were not entirely appreciated by the rest of the Wizarding World, but they were vehemently abhorred by some of her friends and her boyfriend. Ron had felt personally offended that she'd fight so hard for 'Death Eater scum' when she should be helping her friends through their grief. Never mind Hermione's grief, no, she was just a support system with curls and a swotty attitude.
After getting justice for the Children of the Death Eaters (the press' not-so-catchy nickname for the group), Hermione had initially alternated staying with Harry at Grimmauld Place, searching for her parents in Australia, and sleeping over at the Burrow. She never stayed still for long, otherwise, the nightmares might catch up to her. Tracking down her parents was easier than she'd planned, and the Australian Ministry had offered to watch over their care in return for her service to the Wizarding World. A team of expert mind healers was still working to reverse the memory charm. Hope of success dwindled by the day.
Hermione fought off the guilt associated with her decision to obliviate her parents with every report of failure she received from the team. She'd do it again to save their lives. Guilt was one thing, regret wasn't in her vocabulary.
With nothing else to fix or fight for, Hermione found her time occupied with her relationship with Ron. The horcrux hunt and subsequent battle had driven them into each other's arms and they were trying to figure out how to be together when not under the threat of imminent death. Sometimes, she wished to go back to the isolation of the tent. For Ron, grief had encouraged a darker side of him that Hermione was unprepared to handle.
She willingly went to Hogwarts when Headmistress McGonagall and Kingsley had asked her to assist with the rebuilding effort there. Another project was just what she needed. Predictably, she took over the whole operation and had the task completed with the utmost efficiency. Charts and schedules were predictable. They were neat. They weren't volatile.
Hermione had arrived at the castle at the break of dawn and left around midnight each night. The more time she spent confronting the ghosts of the war meant less time dealing with the very real demons waiting at home.
She and Ron didn't last much longer after the rebuilding effort was completed. No more distractions to pull her focus from all the red flags. Hermione had ended it and immediately fled back to Grimmauld without a second thought. Everyone assumed they broke up because they were better as friends or because the war had changed them too much. Neither Hermione nor Ron corrected them. The truth was more sinister and everyone had enough darkness to combat.
Harry didn't want her to be alone after the break-up, so he and Ginny had taken to spending more time with her than at the Burrow. All that had done was drive a wedge between Hermione and the Weasley clan. Harry assured her that he wouldn't pick sides.
"I love you both and this doesn't change that," he said, hugging her tight. She'd cried right after he left the room.
Noise had surrounded her the entire summer. The sounds of reconstruction, the screams in nightmares, the laughter and chaos at the Burrow, the crying and yelling—she pushed that final thought away—had been the soundtrack to her days. She was ready for silence. Silence and peace were what she hoped for now.
She was distracted by the lack of silence on the train and the lack of peace that her mind had given her. It seemed that peace would have to wait. She collided into a warm, hard body and felt strong arms reach out to grab her waist before she hit the ground.
"Granger."
"Malfoy."
His hands lingered on her waist. It was a gesture that was indicative of his upbringing. He was just trying to keep her from landing on her arse. For Hermione, that touch had inspired a myriad of reactions. Shock, primarily. The warmth of his hands had started to creep through her shirt though and the gentleness, the care, in his action was stirring up... something she refused to name.
Convinced she was upright on her own, Malfoy released her and thrust his hands in his pockets. The action puzzled her. Was he recoiling from her? It hadn't been very long since she'd seen him last but this still felt... awkward. They weren't in the safe bubble of the rebuilding effort anymore. There were more eyes here, and not all of them would be so kind about this interaction.
"How have you—"
"Don't. You don't have to do that," he cut in. He seemed to be looking anywhere but her. She was confused. They'd cleared the air. It shouldn't be so hard for them to be civil to one another anymore.
"I'm not doing anything. I'm just asking—"
"I know. You're being polite," Malfoy interrupted her again, spitting the word out as though it disgusted him. She placed her hands on her hips and gave him the look that had kept Harry in line for years. Even now this little shit could get under her skin. Polite?! He'd just dismissed her interest, again. She'd tried to reach out during rebuilding and thought she'd made progress. Now, she wouldn't let him continue with this behavior. She was pissed and it's time he knew it.
"Do you ever let people finish their sentences or do you presume to know everything?" she huffed.
"I think knowing everything is your thing, Granger." A shadow of a smirk crossed his lips as he finally made eye contact with her.
Malfoy's eyes were a feature as defining as his platinum hair, but for Hermione, those eyes held significance. Those eyes had mocked her for years, but they had also been a focal point during the most horrid parts of her life–being tortured on the floor of his drawing room. She'd looked to him, not expecting him to do anything but just to use him as... something. A distraction. A focal point. An anchor.
His grey eyes looked different now though, tired yet they also held resignation and defeat. Malfoy was never an open book, but it seemed like he was cracking, at least where his eyes were concerned.
He held her gaze for just a moment before nodding and turning on his heel. As she went to call him back, she felt a hand tighten around her wrist. All the fight and ire drained from her fast enough to make her head spin. Hermione's entire body reacted to that touch before the person had even spoken. While her heart raced, palms clammed up, eyes widened, and muscles tensed, her brain prepared for impact. He'd conditioned her to have this response.
"What were you doing with Malfoy?" Ron growled into her ear. She hadn't told him about their interactions over the summer. She had been hoping to avoid this whole mess. Better in public than in private though she supposed. Witnesses just wouldn't do, Hermione thought bitterly.
"We reconnected at Hogwarts this summer. I was just being polite," she said quickly, echoing Malfoy's words. He was too close, his breath hot on her face. Instinctively, she turned away from him. She felt hot with panic. Ron couldn't be this close to her–not anymore. Nothing good came from his proximity and she had the scars to prove it.
Her body was debating between staying as still as possible (her gut told her this would save her) and running for the hills. She'd fucking walk to Hogwarts if it meant getting away. She tried to pull free and go find Harry or Luna, but his fingers dug into her skin. She'd hoped, naively, this wouldn't happen if they weren't together anymore. He had no reason to care if she'd left him. Clearly, his possessive streak didn't fade with the end of their relationship.
"You are not to speak to him unless absolutely necessary. Am I clear?" Ron spun her to face him. The look in his eyes all too familiar, she could see the anger in them. Hermione needed to end this before they got back to the castle.
Summoning all her Gryffindor courage, she coolly replied, "What I do isn't your concern anymore. We broke up, Ronald. You can't keep treating me—" she was cut off as he dragged her into the nearest empty compartment. The fear took over when he closed the door and pulled the shade.
"What did you say to me?" Ron inched toward her. It wasn't a question she was meant to answer. Intimidation was always his favorite.
The door suddenly opened to reveal Harry and Ginny. Merlin, Hermione's heart could barely handle the relief. She edged her way into the seat by the door grabbing Ginny's hand to pull her down into the empty seat beside her. If Ginny or Harry noticed the tension, they didn't say anything, but merely prattled on about how often they were stopped by first-years who couldn't believe all the war heroes were all coming back to Hogwarts.
As the train left the platform and made its way across the countryside, Hermione fought back tears. Just getting on the train had been an emotional whirlwind. Her brain had finally jolted out its shock enough to process it all. Hermione tried to plan her next steps. Her psyche wouldn't survive an entire year of reacting and recovering. Ron needed to be something in her past and not an ever-present shadow.
She didn't want Ron back, but she refused to take someone else away from Harry by involving him; Harry would lose someone regardless of whose side he chose. Hermione wasn't confident he'd believe her.
Ginny had been too observant this summer, though, so perhaps Harry already suspected by proxy. Ginny wasn't given enough credit by the Weasleys. Hermione had often had to invent excuses for her or Ron's behavior only because Ginny had seen something or questioned the tension. Hermione had thought Ginny would call her on it at the Burrow just a week before Hermione broke off her relationship.
Hermione took a minute to collect herself in the Burrow bathroom down the hall from Ron's room. Her breathing was uneven and she needed to steady her hands. She healed the bruises and cuts on her face with practiced ease. She probably could've done the spells wandlessly at this point. The whole time she bit her lip to silence her sobs.
He hadn't been too brutal this time. His whole family under the same roof as them had probably been a deterrent. Bill and Charlie had always been his idols and he was more careful in their presence. He'd healed his hands before he stormed out of his room, leaving her to pick up her broken pieces–pieces he'd shattered.
A few beauty charms and a sip of Draught of Peace later, Hermione emerged ready to return to the weekly Weasley family dinner. She'd plaster a smile on her face and go home–alone.
Ginny was waiting outside the door, arms crossed and concern in her eyes.
"Hermione... are you okay?" Ginny started to reach for her but Hermione flinched away. The sensitive bruises on her arms were covered by sleeves and would need a Bruise Paste to fully disappear. Hermione looked at Ginny with tears brimming. The words begged to be released. She could feel them literally clawing at her throat to escape. To ask someone to help her. To tell anyone what he did to her.
She pushed the words down with a hard swallow. She'd leave this time. No one would have to know. The Weasleys had lost one son already, she wouldn't expose another one and risk them losing another.
"Fine, Gin. Ron and I just had a fight. My emotions are all over the place these days... so are his." Hermione hoped Ginny would read more into that. See the words she wasn't saying. "I don't know how much longer we'll keep trying to make it work."
Hermione shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself. The words made it real. She could use this moment to hold herself accountable and get the fuck out.
"You seem... tired." It clearly wasn't the word she wanted to say, but she wasn't wrong.
"I've been spending a lot of time at Hogwarts. Early days. Long nights. I just need to get some sleep. Really. Ginny, I'm fine or at least I will be... after a nap."
Ginny just stared Hermione down. The silence felt oppressive. Any longer sitting in this moment and Hermione would break and let the secrets spill from her like the blood that Ron liked to draw from her.
Hermione closed her eyes, took a fortifying breath, and walked away from the one person who'd always noticed when something was wrong.
Ginny had been kind enough never to push Hermione, but she didn't know how much longer the courtesy would last.
Hermione's mind raced through solutions for the year, but nothing gave her much hope so she resorted to asking the Fates to take pity on her.
Maybe the universe would see fit to give her a way out.
The Sorting had finally ended and everyone seemed surprisingly calm with returning to school. It seemed most people were ready to be teenagers again and put the horrors they'd seen behind them for now. Occasional signs of the trauma they'd endured would manifest, though. Distrustful glances at classmates. Flinching at a loud noise or sudden movements. Vacant glances when the conversation lulled as people remembered a friend who wouldn't be here – was supposed to be here – this year. The too many students gripping their wands tightly under the table to assure themselves it was still there. That last gesture had mainly come from muggleborns who'd been living with the threat of ostracization from the first moment they entered the wizarding world.
The war had seen fit to give where it had taken, though. Couples were cropping up everywhere as a result of last-minute confessions and deciding life was too short to wait around.
Across from Hermione sat Seamus and Dean, who had finally decided to stop pretending they were just mates. Harry and Ginny were next to her discreetly holding hands under the table. Those two had been inseparable since the final battle. Neville and Luna hadn't lasted, but as she looked down the table, it appeared he had no shortage of admirers to choose from. Neville caught her eye and waved, causing the gaggle of groupies to glare in her direction for the sin of stealing his attention. Hermione shook her head and pressed her lips together to hold in her laugh. Some things really didn't change.
Looking across the hall, she scanned the Slytherin table. She had come to know some of them as a result of their probation and was concerned for how the year would go for the entire house. Prejudice was rampant, but it was driven by house colors – and which side of the war you stood on – instead of blood status these days. Malfoy caught her eye and she gave him a small smile before looking back to her plate.
Ginny caught Hermione's arm as she reached for the pumpkin juice, "What happened to your wrist?" Only then did Hermione realize her mistake. Her shirt sleeve had ridden up with the reach and she hadn't glamoured her wrist to hide the bruises she knew would be there after her encounter with Ron on the train.
"Nothing. It's nothing," she answered quickly while frantically pulling down her sleeve. Hermione felt the anxiety creeping into her throat at Ginny's appraising look. Ginny looked like she wanted to press the issue, but the idea stalled long enough for Hermione to redirect.
"How was your holiday staying with Dean?" she quickly asked Seamus.
Thank Merlin for Seamus Finnegan, Hermione thought as Seamus launched into the story of how Dean had shown him a microwave when he went to visit Dean's Muggle parents. Predictably, Seamus had made the error of putting metal in the contraption and caused it to catch fire—classic Finnegan. The Gryffindor table all shared knowing looks and chuckles at the inevitability that where Seamus went, explosions followed. Dean leaned over to kiss Seamus on the cheek and shook his head.
As dinner was beginning to wrap up, Headmistress McGonagall stepped up to the podium instantly commanding the attention of the room.
"Before I dismiss you for bed, I have an announcement. I know many of you are excited to return to Hogwarts and have a normal year after... last year. However, the Board of Governors has instituted a new program. One they hope will promote house unity after so many years of division." At this, the Headmistress paused. She clearly anticipated a negative reaction to what she said next.
"This year we will have a student exchange program between the houses. For the trial of this experiment, one male and one female student from each house will spend the Fall Term in a different house to experience new things and better understand their fellow students. I have limited it to only seventh and eighth-year students for now, due to the maturity needed for this experiment."
For a moment, there was stunned silence. The Great Hall suddenly erupted in a cacophony of noise as infuriated students expressed their opinion of this plan.
"After we fought a bloody war against those psychos and their parents, they want us to just hold hands and skip around the Black Lake?" Ron seethed. "There better be no fucking snakes sent to us or—"
"Ron, don't. Haven't you had enough fighting for a lifetime?" Harry cut him off, looking uncomfortable and exhausted with the whole ordeal. He rubbed his temples as if warding off the headache his best mate would inevitably cause over this development.
"This doesn't have to be a bad thing," Dean chimed in. "We could get Luna or Hannah. Maybe have some members of the DA. Could be fun."
"Ever the optimist, Thomas," Ginny shook her head. "He's not wrong though. Who do you think they'll take from Gryffindor though? None of you lot I hope." She gestured to the infamous Golden Trio.
"Well none of us would survive exams without Hermione and her study guides," Seamus joked. "And taking Harry and Ron would cripple the Quidditch team, so I doubt McGonagall lets them go."
"I didn't even think about Quidditch!" Ginny rounded on the boys. "You two, under no circumstances, are to abandon this team or play for another house's team. I'll smother you both in your sleep."
Harry chuckled, "Yes, dear." He pecked her cheek and threw an arm around her. Ginny briefly glared at him for patronizing her, but soon settled into his side.
The Gryffindor table seemed split between reluctance, resignation, and outrage. The Ravenclaws leaned wholly into anger over the decision, no doubt thinking they'd miss out on the legendary library in Ravenclaw Tower for a whole term. Hufflepuff looked hesitant at best. They may be known as the considerate house, but even they had their limits. Slytherin... they all looked terrified. None of them expected open arms and welcome parades it seemed.
Hermione was silent. This was her way out. This was the solution she'd asked for, and now she needed to ensure she was a part of it.
She mentally catalogued the potential of each house she could be sent to. Ravenclaw was obviously the first choice. The Sorting Hat had almost sent her there and she'd do well with her books and cleverness. Hufflepuff was an ambivalent choice. They were relaxed compared to the boisterous Gryffindors she was surrounded by, except they had an affinity for inter-house relationships, increasing her chances of seeing her friends if she stayed with the badgers. Slytherin wasn't an ideal choice with all bad blood–she winced internally at her poor wording– involved, but she at least knew some of the snakes well enough to be civil.
In the end, it didn't matter. They all had one glaring positive thing in common; they were free of Ron Weasley.
McGonagall looked at the sea of chattering students and met the eyes of a singular witch. A witch with determination and relief on her features. Hermione Granger would accept her role in this with ease it seemed.