Chapter 1- Lost
The sun had finally started to break on the horizon above the distant trees. Long fingers of light crept across the ground to reach for her. But, as that warm light caressed her skin, Hermione Granger still felt nothing. She was numb. Not from the cold of walking the meadows surrounding the Burrow in the wee hours of the morning. This came from deep within her.
The War had finally ended several months before at Hogwarts. In the months since, there was a swarm of mixed emotions through the entire wizarding community. Relief of it being over, and grief for all the loved ones and friends that had been lost were the most prominent. But, there was an undertone of determination and resilience to rebuild.
As the months continued, Hermione's relief waned. Her grief, though still present, had faded to a dull ache of acceptance. Her dreams however, still haunted her, not ever really letting her move on.
She had woken from another fitful night. Flashes of Fred lying lifeless, Basalisk fangs, snakes beheaded, and Voldemort standing over Harry triumphantly plagued her every night. The worst of all, was the evil cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange. The pain surged through her every nerve as she slept just as it had that night in the Manor.
She had awoken with a loud painful thump onto her bedroom floor. She must have been flailing in her sleep again. She sighed heavily peaking over at a still sleeping Ginny. Drool was slowly trickling out of Ginny's mouth as she mumbled and twitched in her sleep. Hermione selfishly took comfort that she wasn't the only one unable to sleep soundly. She had known full well that returning to any semblance of sleep would be futile, so she decided to walk off the nightmares.
She walked among the fields and meadows for what felt like hours. It was probably true, since she never bothered looking at the clock before she left. Hermione had finally come to a realization as the sun crept over the trees.
She had lost her purpose.
The war was over. Her self-proclaimed mission to help Harry defeat Voldemort was over. So now what? The community had started rebuilding around her. But what did Hermione want?
The grief, shock, and anxiety of being involved in the war had left her completely empty. There was one thing she only really felt…
Lost.
She fondly remembered the girl she used to be. Intelligent, determined, and completely sure of herself.
"Where was she now?" she wondered to herself sighing.
She glanced back at the Burrow. Knowing her adoptive family would be waking soon, she started to head back. She paused at that thought. Adoptive... She wasn't an orphan. Her parents were warm and happy when she had seen them last month. She had traveled all the way to Australia to find them, fully intending to reverse her memory charm.
But seeing them, happily throwing a dinner party with new friends in the garden, she couldn't bring herself to make her presence known. She just watched quietly from the shadows. Her father grilling steaks, her mother giving him a quick squeeze from behind as she walked past to get more refreshments.
They were happy. No need to plague them with the realization of what had happened the past year. They didn't need to be bombarded with worry over a clearly broken daughter. And with tears silently streaming down her cheeks... Hermione had turned away to let them be happy.
Thinking about them again had caused the tears to pickle the corners of her eyes. Forcing them back, she sighed again heavily.
"You know they are happy." She told herself. "That we have to be enough for now, even if you aren't."
Bang!
The gavel made it final. Draco Malfoy was a convicted Death Eater. But to many people's surprise, Draco would not be returning to Azkaban. He was probably more surprised than anyone. It was well known that his family (ahem, father) had been some of the most dedicated followers of the Dark Lord. His home had been a headquarters for the most loyal of followers. He had been privy to their evil plots. He had witnessed brutal murders and creative tortures and had done nothing to stop them. He had tried to murder one of the greatest and most respected wizards of all time. He should have been doomed to rot in Azkaban prison for the rest of his miserable life.
"I deserve it" he thought with loathing.
It had been looking to be the case. Even after his mother's testimony that he had become a Death Eater, to save his, his mother's, and his father's life. Voldemort had been so upset with Lucius' performance, and had demanded more commitment from the family. Denying him would have held the greatest of consequences. His mother continued babbling, trying to save her only son, but Draco started getting lost in his own thoughts.
Looking back, Draco wasn't sure if he could have done it again. Death would have been easier. Azkaban had given him time to truly see it. As soon as he had been dragged into that place, all happiness drained out of him. (Not that there had been much to begin with.) As the bars slammed behind him he was left to himself, plus the screams and cackling of the deranged and insane, to think about all of the atrocities he had witnessed. His father reduced to simpering in front of the Dark Lord. Dumbledore falling off the balcony of his tower. That poor Muggle Studies teacher tortured above his head at the dining table. A room filled with flames and his friend screaming. All these and more played over and over in his mind. But more than anything. He saw her.
Granger. Sprawled on the Dark wood floor of the Manor. Deep guttural screams pouring from her no matter how much it looked like she tried holding back. His deranged aunt pinning her down as she carved the same word he had called her numerous times into her arm.
He didn't really understand why that one had gotten to him the most. Maybe because he had known her? Hated her? Had been jealous of her? Had caused his own pain to her? Her screams were still echoing in his head as his attention was called back to the present by a loud yell, "Next witness!"
Draco's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as the Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die slowly took the stand.
"Mr. Potter, you claim to have in your possession a memory relating to Draco Malfoys forced involvement as a Death Eater."
"Yes. I have the memory of Severus Snape. Known spy for the Order of the Phoenix."
"Place it in the pensive if you please."
The courts pensive was quite large. Taking up a majority of the courtroom floor. You could hear a few gasps around the room as Dumbledore and Severus Snape's shapes took form...
"Protect the boy Severus."
"Sir, if he doesn't do this he is as good as dead."
"I know, but I fear worse will happen to his soul if he does. That's why you need to do it for him. His choices are being made for him... Protect the boy... Be the one to kill me Severus... Please."
"Draco has already accepted the mission. I worry I cannot successfully intervene."
"I know you will find a way; you always do."
"As much as this is touching, Mr. Potter. It does not absolve Mr. Malfoy of all the crimes before him."
"I know Sir." He quickly added. "However, it does show that it was known that Malfoy was not acting under his own actions. It was believed from the beginning by Dumbledore and the Order that Malfoy was being manipulated into his actions."
"Hmmm..."
" I also have in my possession Malfoys wand. And after being examined by the Aurors here at the Ministry, no unforgivable or truly dark curses have been committed by this wand."
The silence of the room broke into hushed mutters. Draco couldn't believe what was happening before his eyes. POTTER WAS DEFENDING HIM! He couldn't help but look at him in disbelief. Harry had caught his gaze. He returned it with a nearly undetectable shrug. The slightest smirk pulling at his mouth as discussions erupted around the room.
"Mr. Malfoy. Upon further deliberation. This court finds you guilty of being a Death Eater. You claimed allegiance to Voldemort. You were privy to their plots and information, never turning over your knowledge to the proper authorities. You took part in the events leading to your Headmaster's death, letting veteran Death Eaters into your school. However, since no true crimes were committed directly by yourself... you are hereby sentenced to one year without a wand and 5 years of strict probation. Let's hope your own choices are better."
Bang!
Emotions, which Malfoy had been voided of for months, came crashing down on him like giant waves on a rocky shore. Relief, shock, gratitude overwhelmed him. Narcissa rushed to him, practically flinging herself at him. As Draco hugged her, he buried his face in her hair and did something he hadn't done in a very long time... He cried.
Draco had gotten the second chance he never imagined possible. But now he had no idea where to start.
Hermione was stirring her morning porridge absentmindedly. She was practically glaring into it, willing it to reveal some divine inspiration on where her life should lead. She was interrupted by a light squeeze on her shoulder. She practically jumped out of her chair, shying away from the touch.
" 'Ermione?" Ron's brow furrowed from her reaction to his touch.
"Uh... sorry." Shame clearly marked her face as she couldn't quite meet Ron's gaze.
" 'S Okay," but worry remained on his face. "I was hoping you would wanna go for a picnic... just the two of us."
"Uh... sure. That would be lovely," she quickly added when the worry didn't leave his face. She was rewarded with a large grin.
After the war, her and Ron's relationship never really progressed further than their first kiss. Everyone assumed they were together, and that was fine. She loved Ron. They had been through so much together. In the aftermath of the battle, there had been too much to do. Between rebuilding, trials, and funerals there hadn't been much alone time. And if she was being honest with herself, she just didn't have the emotional energy to try.
Looking at Ron, however, she could tell he was looking to change that.
That would be good for me, right?
"Just keep your eyes closed. 'Kay?" Ron asked over his shoulder as he led her by hand later that afternoon.
"Ron! We have been walking for ages. Where are you taking me?"
" 'S a surprise. Just a bit further." A small smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. Small butterflies started to dance in her belly. No one had ever done anything special just for her before.
"We're here."
As her eyes adjusted to the light, Hermione found herself surrounded by a beautiful sight. They were on a high hill that overlooked the Burrow. A soft meadow filled with wildflowers surrounded them. A red plaid picnic blanket was spread across the grass under a giant oak tree. Ron had enchanted thousands of tiny orbs of gold light to dance around the space and through the tree. Soft violin music floated from them into the breeze.
Her jaw dropped, and tears threatened against the corner of her eye. Who would have thought Ron would have been capable of something like this?
As if reading her mind, "Ginny gave me the idea."
"I... it's..." she tried to clear the giant lump that seemed to be caught in her throat. "It's beautiful."
"Come an' sit." Gently lacing his fingers in hers, he pulled her towards the blanket. Hermione, with an utterly dumbfounded look, kept bouncing her head between Ron and trying to take everything in.
Finally she had caught Ron just staring at her with a giant grin. A flush rushed to his cheeks as he turned away to rummage in the nearby picnic basket.
"I shoulda asked ya earlier if you wanted somethin' to drink. I brought lemonade or cham-pa-gne." She thought it was adorable how badly he butchered saying champagne.
"I'll take the champagne please," gently correcting him with a smile big enough rival his own. When was the last time I genuinely smiled?
"Ron, I..."
"I wanted ta make you smile. You havn't really done much of that lately. I shoulda tried more sooner."
How does he keep reading my mind?!
At a loss for words, she suddenly found great interest for her shoes.
"I just wanna make you happy 'Ermione."
With that, her eyes shot back up to meet his.
"You have Ron. This is so incredible I don't even know what to say." Her eyes were trying to convey how serious and heartfelt her words were.
"The great 'Ermione is lost for words?" he replied with a mock shocked expression. Laughing she lightly punched is arm.
Just then she realized a small amount of dirt on the side of his nose. She gently brushed it away, her hand froze upon his cheek. Ron froze as well. The whole world froze. Her heart started pounding wildly in her chest. Her mouth ran dry. Gently she pulled Ron's face towards her.
At the gentle pull, Ron launched towards her, fervently enveloping her lips with his. The force knocked Hermione on her back. Ron's full weight pinning her down. After the initial shock of the burst of passion, Hermione found herself responding with equal passion and greed. She lightly nibbled on his bottom lip. A small groan escaped between Ron's lips. They deepened the kiss further.
Ahhh, this feels so gooood. Hermione, for once, felt good. Better than good, amazing!
Ron broke free of the kiss, coming up for air. Then started hungrily trailing long wet kisses from her jaw, down her neck to her collar bone. Light panting and small groans escaped her lips. Her hands few up to his back, nails digging in. It must have been a tad too hard. Ron shifted to grab her hands pinning them above her head with one hand. His other slipped under the hem of her shirt, grazing along the waistband of her jeans. His mouth returning to hers.
Suddenly, flashes of being pinned to another hard floor swarmed into her mind. Writhing in pain. She squirmed underneath Ron as a scream started to bubble from deep inside her but failed to come out as it lodged in her throat. Crucio! Her legs struggled to find purchase to flee which Ron continued to mistake for fervent lust as her hips ground against his. Flashes morphed into an encompassing tomb of being held down by Bellatrix Lestrange as she carved her knife along her arm. Ahh! It burns! The pythonic muscles that had taken over the inside of her throat finally loosened enough to let a blood curdling scream escape from her lips. Horrified and startled Ron shot up from his musings around her chest but in the shock, hadn't released her fully.
"NO! GET OFF OF ME! AHHHHH" she yelled through her teeth as she struggled against his weight.
Still completely stunned, Ron finally released her hands. Hermione, still thrashing elbowed him hard across the face. He fell off to the side allowing her enough space to get up.
As soon as she was up, realization dawned upon her.
OH my god! What have I done?!
Tears started streaming down her face. She turned from him and ran.
His hand reached in his pocket on instinct. Nothing was there but a balled-up tissue. Bloody hell! Draco had walked into his extremely dark bedroom and was fumbling around trying to find a light switch. He first instinct of course was to use magic. But, no magic, no wand... FOR A YEAR!
Completely frustrated, he shouted for a house elf, "Dot!"
*Pop*
"Yes, Sir!"
"Light a fire immediately!"
A fire started immediately in the fireplace
"Anything else Sir? Perhaps some food from the kitchen?"
He was relieved to finally have light. The dark made him a tad anxious these days though he would never ever admit it. "No Dot. Thank you."
Pure shock was plastered on the elf's face upon disappearing.
Thank you?! Ugghhh!
He sighed heavily as he collapsed on the bed. Today has really been a long day. He scrubbed his face roughly in frustration. He had had to fight through hordes of reporters waiting to snap pictures and get comments outside the Manor. Which is no easy task, especially without a wand. Usually Draco loved the spotlight. This had been different. He was a spectacle. The cameras flashing, people shouting, everyone bumping into and grabbing him as he tried to get his mother and himself through the gates was almost too much to bear. Someone even spit on him!
Don't be such a prat! You got off easy! You should be in Azkaban still.
But no, here he was... in his own bed. Fire warming the room. He mother had also received some leniency, although her punishment was a bit more severe than his own. She faced three years without a wand. Being strongly encouraged to "see life through a muggle's eyes." What rubbish!
Of course, Draco had come to realize that his father's views were way too extreme. The Mad Lord was completely out of his mind. But years of conditioning by his father was hard to completely eradicate. He didn't like muggles. Nor did he care to have to live like one. But it's better than the alternative, he supposed.
Just then there was a light tapping on his window...
Ugh! If one of those bloody crack pot reporters somehow got past the wards…
He flew off the bed intending to slam his drapes shut and block out the intruder (since there was little else he could do wandless). He realized with a bit of relief that it was just a large barn owl with golden tipped wings.
What the...?
He released the letter tied to its foot, giving it a treat from the expensive vase on the nearby table. His name was scrawled in beautiful cursive on the front of the envelope. Turning it over revealed a wax seal with a crest he was all too familiar with.
I'll be damned.
Hermione had practically flown back to the Burrow she had ran so fast. She bounded up the crooked stairs three at a time, rushing to the bedroom that she had shared with Ginny. She flung open the door to find Ginny and Harry sitting on one of the beds deep in conversation.
"Out!" Tears were still streaming down her face.
"Wha..? Hermione w-w-what's wrong?" Harry stuttered completely startled.
"JUST GET OUT!" With that her best friends rushed out the door. She slammed it behind them, locking it, and threw herself on her bed sobbing.
What's wrong with me?! She thought through the choking sobs raking her breath. Hermione continued to cry what was left of her heart out.
Eventually the crying had quieted several hours later. Her mind had quieted too. She just laid there, numbly staring at the ceiling. She could hear voices and laughing coming from the floors below. No one had dared checking in on her. She didn't know if she was resentful or relieved by that, so she just continued staring at the ceiling trying to block it out.
There was a small scratching sound that seemed closer than the commotion going on downstairs. She sat up, her puffy stinging eyes searching for the source around the room. She caught a glimpse of a small owl fluttering outside the window. With a frustrated sigh she got up to let it in.
Probably Ginny's subscription to Witch Weekly.
But when the owl lifted its foot she realized it was a letter addressed to her. Odd...
She flipped it over to open it and her heart swelled. There, on the crimson seal, was a pressed Hogwarts crest. She tore into the letter hungrily almost ripping the letter.
Dear Ms. Hermione Granger,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for an unprecedented 8th year in order to complete your schooling.
The Second Wizard War had deprived several students of a proper education. Upon much discussion and argument, it has been decided to offer this 8th year to our students most effected by the war.
This year is not required, but greatly recommended. It would be a great honor to have you return to our school. I await your owl with your reply no later than July 31st. The school year will start, as usual, on September 1st. Enclosed is a book list for this year's classes should you choose to return. I look forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Professor Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
She read through it four more times to be sure it was real. She was interrupted her fifth time through by a soft knock at the door. Harry peaked his head in through a small cracked opening he made in the door.
"Hermione?"
"Yeah?" Her voice came out so horse from all the crying she barely recognized it as her own.
He came all the way in, closing the door lightly behind him. In his hand was a similar looking letter to the one she had in her own.
"You got one too huh?" She was still looking at the letter he held.
"Yeah." He took her hand lightly, leading her to sit back on the edge of the bed with him. "You okay?"
She sighed lightly resting her head on his shoulder. "Been better. Getting better still."
"Wanna talk about it?"
"Not really. Are you going to go?" quickly changing the subject.
It was Harry's turn to sigh. "I don't think so. Me and Ron were already accepted to the Auror training program. I don't really want to put that off for another year."
She just nodded. Keeping her head on his shoulder.
"I just think I can be more of a help out there. Doing something. Maybe I can help catch the ones still out there. I've never been much good in the classroom anyway."
That got her to chuckle lightly. The more she thought about it, the more she realized soon she was going to be alone. Harry and Ron were going to be busy starting the next chapters of their lives without her, at least for the time being. And with that, she realized when you were lost there was really only one place worth going... home.
"I'm going to go back."
"Figures." Harry said with a light chuckle of his own. "I'll owl you all the time you know. And I'll try to visit if we ever get breaks. You know I'm always here for you. No matter what." He kissed the top of her head.
"I know. I just need to figure some stuff out. I love you though."
"Ditto."
Dear Mr. Draco Malfoy,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for an unprecedented 8th year in order to complete your schooling.
The Second Wizard War had deprived several students of a proper education. Upon much discussion and argument, it has been decided to offer this 8th year to our students most effected by the war.
Participation in this year has been decided to be a mandatory part of your probation. Although your wand will not be returned to you for the school year, you will be required to attend class and study without the practical use of magic. Enclosed is a book list for this year's classes. I look forward to seeing you.
Sincerely,
Professor Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Well that's just bloody great isn't it?!
Not that Draco had any plans for the next year. But laying low, hoping attitudes and his new popularity (or lack thereof) to mellow seemed to be the best course of action. No chance of that now.
Draco flopped back on his bed to brood.