Some quick author's notes, before we begin. This is my first serious foray into pure Harry Potter fan fiction, but I've been around long enough to know the ropes. Hopefully it'll turn out well. The main focus of this story is going to characterization, so I apologize in advance for any issues with plot. I haven't quite got everything mapped out yet, but I have plenty of ideas to work with, so it should work out in the end.

With regards to plot, the sixth book became a bit of an issue with one of my favorite characters: Snape. There have been enough theories along the lines of "Dumbledore's not dead" or "Snape did it on Dumbledore's orders" etc. One could easily write a whole fic just on Snape's motivations. I, on the other hand, would rather move on and discuss other topics. Snape's actions will be explained concisely in the way I find most plausible.

A bit of a warning: I intend to deal with homosexual relationships in a realistic manner. There will be no fluffy slash bunnies. I haven't read any fics that center on slash pairings, so hopefully I'll be able to avoid any stereotypes. Regardless, if you have some sort of problem with homosexuality, don't flame me about it. I'm giving you fair warning, and you are quite welcome to NOT read this story. On the other hand, if you're reading this story expecting lots of hot man on man action, go look elsewhere. I don't write explicit sex, homosexual or heterosexual. Sorry to disappoint.

I have chosen to rate this story R (or M, or whatever) so that I may have free reign with language. As I said, I don't do explicit sex. Also, there may be some violence/disturbing war-type images in the first few chapters. Later, there may be some implied drug use/frank discussions about alcohol, drugs and STDs, etc.

A final note for the moment: I am not, at present, going to reveal the pairings. I want you to enjoy the story for what it is, not for the pairings. If I don't develop thing well enough between the characters who do end up together and you don't like the pairing, you're free to quit reading.

Obligatory disclaimer: I don't own 'em. JKR does.

This is probably the longest AN you'll get, unless I really need to explain something. And now, on with the fic!

Prologue

As the sun finally dipped below the horizon, Hermione let out a soft sigh and closed the book in her hands. She could not cast a Lumos spell, and the room in Twelve Grimmauld Place was too dim without outside lighting to see the words on the page without squinting. She would not finish the book tonight. Setting the large tome on the dresser, she stood and stretched. Her back ached from sitting in one position for too long, but she was accustomed to the feeling. She would often become entranced by a book and lose track of time, only to suffer acute stiffness when she finally pulled herself away.

Once she had worked most of the stiffness out, she padded lightly over to the bed. Even in the dim light, she could see that her patient looked much improved over his original state. His normally pale skin had been downright sickly, but he was regaining some color in his cheeks. Brushing her hand lightly over his forehead, she was pleased to find that his fever was gone. He did not appear to be in pain, but it was possible that that would change when he awakened. The pain, however, would be temporary, and the least of his worries.

His right arm had been amputated, leaving nothing but a stub, currently wrapped in white gauze. He was lucky, really, that the snake's venom hadn't spread any further. If it had taken him a few more minutes to get to headquarters, he would have died. However, losing an arm was nothing to scoff at. He would have to learn to write again, use his wand again. Flying on a broomstick, one of his favorite pastimes, would become infinitely more dangerous, and competitive Quidditch was probably out of the question. It would take time to learn to dress himself. For months, nothing would be normal for him.

Draco Malfoy had lost an arm for the sake of the Light. Dumbledore's suspicions that Nagini was one of Voldemort's horcruxes had proven correct, and Malfoy had managed to destroy her. However, he had not been able to avoid her venomous bite, and by the time he'd Apparated to Order headquarters, his arm was beyond salvation. Once the arm was amputated and he was in no danger of dying, he'd been placed in her care. The qualified Medi-folk were needed to heal the numerous casualties being brought in from outside, where the war was raging.

She had not yet discovered just why Draco had turned to the Light, but she was silently glad. He'd proven a valuable ally, and as much of a prat as he was, she still didn't want to see him waste his life by joining the Death Eaters. He truly had the intelligence and charisma to make something of himself, and removed from his father's influence, he had a good chance at a happy life.

He'd changed, too, since sixth year. True, he hadn't been nice to her or the boys, but he hadn't confronted them for the entirety of seventh year, either. In fact, she hadn't seen him interact much with anyone that year. There had been a lot of speculation when he'd shown up on the Hogwarts Express for the new term. Most of the Slytherins saw him as a coward and wanted nothing to do with him. Everyone else thought he was a Death Eater and avoided him. Looking back, Hermione thought it must have been terribly lonely for him. And yet, he'd gone out over the summer, hunting for Horcruxes and fighting Death Eaters. He'd earned her respect, and she was glad he was alive.

It had been a strange year in many ways. Shortly after Dumbledore's death, during the summer, she Ron and Harry had officially become members of the Order, despite Molly Weasley's vehement objections. Within days of that event, a pensieve had appeared at headquarters containing many of Dumbledore's memories. Among other things, these memories cleared Snape of blame in the old man's death and explained why Dumbledore had trusted him in the first place. Only Harry and McGonagall had seen the memories in their entirety, and no one outside the Order had known about any of it until after all the Horcruxes had been destroyed, but Severus Snape would face no charges for the death of Albus Dumbledore.

Harry refused to stay in the same room with his former Potions professor, but trusted his information and loyalty. Hermione had tried to talk to him about it, firmly convinced that such hatred was not healthy, but Harry refused.

She was drawn from her musings by a knock at the door. "Come in," she said quietly.

She recognized the tall, dark figure immediately. He nodded to her and approached the bed. As far as she knew, he hadn't yet heard the extent of Draco's injuries. However, his face revealed nothing as he bent and brushed some of the blond hair off the boy's forehead. He stared for a few minutes before finally turning to Hermione.

"Will he sleep through the night?"

She nodded. "You're bleeding, and you look exhausted."

Before he could chastise her, she had her wand out and was transfiguring him a cot next to Draco's bed. Snape considered her for a moment, his expression still unreadable. Finally, he decided to let her pamper him for a few minutes. With practiced skill, he undid the buttons of his robe and draped it over the foot of the bed. Clad in a white shirt and black trousers, it was the first time Hermione had seen him in anything other than his full black teaching robes. The shirt was stained red with blood.

"It should not require much effort. Lucius managed a slicing hex before I could incapacitate him."

The shirt stuck to the wound, and Hermione had to help him peal it carefully away from the area. The cut was deeper than she had originally thought, and had bled profusely. Snape sat on the edge of the bed while she inspected the injury. She murmured a few charms, sealing up the cut and cleaning away the blood.

"It damaged some muscle tissue, so you'll be a little sore in the morning. You're lucky it missed an artery, or you'd be dead by now."

He glared at her, but found he didn't have the energy to snap at her for her impertinence. Instead, he reclined on the cot and let sleep claim him.

While he slept, Hermione used her wand to clean and mend his shirt and robes. She folded them carefully and left them on the dresser before moving back to her chair by the window. The moon had risen, full and bright, and she thought that maybe she could read again. Unfortunately, her mind wandered before she could even open the book. The full moon made her think of Remus and subsequently all those she knew who had died so far in the war.

Peter Pettigrew had killed Remus in the middle of her seventh year. Nymphadora Tonks, distraught at the loss of the love of her life, had hunted the rat down and killed him. However, in her haste, she threw caution to the wind and found herself captured by Death Eaters. Her death had been excruciating. Others had been killed as well, though none had struck Hermione so directly as those two. Remus had been one of her favorite teachers ever, and Tonks was energetic and friendly.

There would probably be more casualties in the morning, she thought. The final battle was in full swing, somewhere outside headquarters. Somewhere, Harry and Ron, Ginny, Neville and a handful of other teenagers, along with a full contingent of Aurors and Order members were fighting Death Eaters. Hermione wanted to be out there with them, but she had been caught in the initial flood of injuries, and her healing abilities were desperately needed. In the morning, if there was no news, she planned to Apparate to the battlefield. But for tonight, she had patients to watch over.

If anyone had told her a year ago that she would be spending much of the time during the final battle attending to the wounds of Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy, she would have laughed outright. At the time, she thought them both Death Eaters, evil through and through. She was no longer afraid to admit that she was wrong. Both had proven their loyalty, providing invaluable services to the Order and the side of Light.

Casting a quick glance at her patients, she finally opened her book and concentrated on reading. It was a comfortingly normal activity in a very unnerving situation.

Prologue is officially complete. It's shorter than I normally like to write things, but I got my point across, I think. I heart feedback. Specifically of the constructive criticism kind. As long as you have any sort of valid point, don't worry about offending me or hurting my feelings. I'm always looking to improve.

Final note...I have no beta-reader and no Brit-picker. So, you can blame everything on me and me alone!