Disclaimer: Wait, I don't own it? Well, okay.

A/N: Sorry this took so freaking long. I had some issues getting back into the story. But alas, here it is!

Three days later I stood in front of Grimmalud Place; I gazed at it wondering if this would be the last time I set my eyes upon it. It wasn't exactly warm and welcoming or anything, but ...well, you know. It was just I'd spent almost four months living there with Fred (another two mourning the loss of him) and living with everyone else that had ever meant anything to me. This foreboding mansion was still home to the few people I had left in this world. And I was leaving.

I pushed the thoughts away once again. I had to leave. I had to move on. It's what they would want for me. They would've understood why I had to forget them. It just hurt too much.

I took a step back and within an instant the place I'd called home for quite some time had simply disappeared, just as it was supposed to.

The car McGonagall had promised me was parked on the opposite side of the street. Dragging my trunk, I crossed road to the car, loaded it up, and slowly pulled out into traffic.

I silently thanked my father for forcing me to learn how to drive during the brief time I'd been home the summer of my fifth year. At the time it had seemed so futile. I mean, really. Voldemort was planning to take over the world, stage an ethnic cleansing of sorts and all my dad wanted to do was make sure I knew how to drive? However, I'd caved in after two days of him pestering me. I had felt sorry for having to leave them again so soon. I felt I owed him in some way, so I let him teach me how to drive. Actually, I think it made him feel significant in my life again, being able to teach me to do something. I don't suppose it had ever been easy being parents of someone like me.

A few hours later I found myself standing at the main gate of Hogwarts.

A couple hours even later I had almost fully unpacked my trunk; books placed on shelves in the sitting room, clothes neatly hung up and folded away in my bedroom. I had stashed Harry's cloak in the top of the set of drawers in my armoire.

The last thing to be put away was Hogwarts: A History. Picking it out of the trunk, I moved from my bedroom back out into the sitting room, and standing on the tips of my toes, I pushed the heavy volume up onto the topmost shelf, then returned my feet to the floor to stand back and survey my living quarters, which really were quite nice.

Naturally, most everything had been decorated in burgundy and gold; from the small couch in the sitting room to the cherry wood table, chairs, and desk in the sitting room, which were all accented with gold knobs. I briefly wondered what Malfoy's room would look like, before mentally slapping myself. I knew if I kept wondering about him I'd end up as Harry had during sixth year: obsessed with Malfoy's every movement. Though, I didn't have the Marauders' map as Harry had; which, to be honest, I never had any desire to have. I really didn't care to know what the students (or teachers, for that matter) were up to when I was in my own quarters.

I gave the sitting room one last glance before retreating into my bedroom, lying down on the bed for a nap before the teachers' meeting later that night with McGonagall.

o0o

It was now a day before the students were due to arrive and I still hadn't caught even a glimpse of Draco Malfoy's shadow lurking anywhere in the halls of Hogwarts. Don't get me wrong, I was glad I hadn't. But I was almost certain he hadn't even arrived at Hogwarts yet. How was that for shirking his responsibilities? Oh yes, Minerva, I'm sure Mr. Draco Malfoy will be a fine professor. Never mind the small fact that, oh, he's nowhere to be found.

Maybe I was just bitter. Though, I couldn't tell you why that might be. Maybe I just wanted to get our first encounter over with; you know, get a feel for the situation and what I'd be dealing with this year. Or worse, for even longer. But no, there wouldn't be any way that he'd be able to last longer than a year teaching. At least I hoped not.

Did McGonagall even know he hadn't bothered to grace us with his presence yet? I decided to go speak with her.

I had only just entered through the door of her office, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of her oak desk, beginning to voice my grievances against Malfoy when there was a sharp knock at the door, which was now to my back.

I pointedly didn't turn to greet the intruder. Couldn't they see I was already speaking with her?

McGonagall gave a ghost of a smile and greeted the person, much to my personal shock and dismay, "Ah, Professor Malfoy, I've been awaiting your arrival. I hope you're well?"

I could feel my shoulders sag, yet tense at the very same time. I wouldn't turn around and acknowledge his presence. I simply wouldn't.

McGonagall beamed (yes, actually beamed) at me saying, "Now Ms. Granger..."

But he cut her off, addressing me, "Granger still, is it? What, the Weasel never did get his hands on you?"

I silently cursed myself for not having gotten this conversation out of the way that day we all met in Hogsmeade; I however, had opted for complete silence, instructing McGonagall to leave me entirely out of the proceedings.

Unfortunately his inquiry left me with only one practical option: turning around and speaking with him. But I didn't have to be pleasant about it.

Giving him my best glare, I responded coolly, "Now Malfoy, you know very well Ron and I couldn't exactly fit a happily-ever-after into our busy schedule."

And to my great (and might I add, naïve) surprise the twit actually snorted.

I could feel the rage building up inside my veins.

Before I could stop from questioning him, I had: "What?"

He was still standing in the doorway, only now he was propping himself up against the doorjamb, looking down his nose at me. He replied in an even, condescending tone, "You just keep telling yourself that," then he turned his attention to McGonagall, "Minerva, if you don't mind, I'd rather like to have a word with you." His eyes moved back to mine as he added, "In private."

I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could say a single thing McGonagall had chimed in,

"Yes, Draco, there are quite a few things I need to bring you up to speed on. Now, Hermione, if you'll excuse us?"

There wasn't really anything I could say. I slowly rose from my chair, moving past Malfoy as I exited through her office door. It took all the self-control I possessed not to kick him in the shins.

o0o

The next few weeks passed without incident. It was fascinating to be a part of the teaching staff, especially since Hogwarts had been closed for awhile. I didn't really have much contact with the newest students though, since the option to take Arithmancy began with the Third Years. I really felt like I was where I should be when I was teaching my students. It just felt so right to be back here, especially after what the entire wizarding world had been through. I once again had a purpose; I was preparing the children for the world, a world that I had helped rescue from the clutches of darkness.

However, I didn't exactly find myself mingling with my fellow educators after classes concluded at the end of each day. I would retreat to my room until darkness fell, reading and planning lessons.

The nighttime was another story. More often than not I would shroud myself in Harry's old invisibility cloak and simply wander the Hogwarts grounds. I never even considered my own safety once. After all, it was Hogwarts; everyone was safe here. What had happened during my sixth year had been one isolated, horrible incident. It was relieving to feel so safe again.

So I would walk the grounds, almost like a groundskeeper patrolling the land. It was just so peaceful, not to mention magical, what with the stars glinting through the night sky and reflecting off of the lake where the giant squid still resided, having been entirely unscathed by the war.

Some nights I would find myself at the Quidditch pitch. Others, outside of Hagrid's old hut. Some I would simply lounge in front of the glassy lake, listening to the water move. And every once in awhile it would almost feel as if I were still a student, and I was simply walking around in an effort to pass some time while waiting for Harry and Ron to join me.

Which is precisely why, on one fateful night, when I heard footsteps approaching me from behind, it didn't strike me as the least bit odd. That is until I turned from the shore of the lake, still hidden under Harry's cloak, to see one Draco Malfoy coming almost directly at me.

He had an almost ethereal glow about him, his light blonde hair framing his pale features which were all illuminated by the waxing moon that hung fairly high in the night sky.

I didn't dare move, let alone breathe. Everyone's senses had been heightened throughout the war; I was sure if I made any sound whatsoever I'd be found out.

A/N: Once again thanks to my reviewers! Hopefully my next chapter won't take as long to get up as this one did. :)

Ydnas5: I'm glad you think the memories seem to fit in with everything else ...sometimes I'm not too sure. ;) :) Thanks again!

andrettamaiebodi: Why thank you. As for the red-head... it's a secret :) All will become clear eventually. ;)

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