Hermione wiped the last of her crumbs from her fingertips as she took a deep breath. She had fixed her cravings and dug into one of the goodies Mrs. Weasley had been so gracious to bring, but it now seemed to be debating whether to stay down in her stomach or come right back up again. Its queasiness didn't help her nerves as she faced the door. Crossing the hospital room in a few quick strides, Hermione tucked her wand into the inside of her cardigan pocket and pulled it tight against her with one hand still hidden inside. She grasped the handle and pulled open the door, revealing the livid Death Eater who had paused his apparent and impatient pacing, his mask now long forgotten. A snarl appeared across his face as her eyes flicked down to the recent swell in his nose. Her lips barely refrained from perking into a grin at the smear of dried blood beneath one of his flared nostrils.
Grasping her arm firmly in one hand, he yanked her out of the doorway and slammed the door shut behind him with a kick of his foot. He led her, or more so nearly dragged her, down a much similar route to which she had been led to Yaxley's office. Instead of a few extra turns and corners, her escort shoved her down another hallway. A single wooden door stood at the end of the wall, and before she could even open her mouth to get a quick quip in about it, the Death Eater had wretched it open and all but threw her inside. Hermione managed to keep her footing and turned to scowl at him.
She was met with a loud slam and the click of a lock from the other side. Hermione rolled her eyes but kept a firm hold on her wand from the inside of her cover-up. Her eyes traveled up the side of the doorframe and a frown took over her face. She turned on her heel and looked about the room, the familiarity of the room coming back full force.
Deep carpets and plush velvet couches and chairs. Paintings lined the dark walls, each presenting a different dark wizard throughout history. Salazar Slytherin glared down at her from his elevated portrait, and she could have sworn he had muttered something about seeing the Mudblood had survived after all.
The room hadn't changed much since her time in the Reaping, only now the door behind her led down into the heart of the Ministry. As she walked towards one of the couches she had occupied after the events of her name being drawn from the bowl of thousands, Hermione glanced up to the door on the opposite side of the room. A faint and anxious murmur indicated hundreds of press officials waiting for the new tributes. Not tributes, but victors.
It was still odd to wrap her head around.
Releasing a heavy sigh, Hermione played with a loose strand of hair over her shoulder. The silence ticked by until the door she had just come from swung open again. Her escort shoved someone inside, and she immediately recognized him by his platinum hair. Draco didn't even stumble, but he too turned to glare at the Death Eater. Behind his glittery mask, she could see the smirk forming across his face as the door swung shut yet again.
"Fancy a press conference?" Hermione asked, catching the attention of the blonde wizard. His posture seemed to soften as he turned to face her, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants. His uniform hadn't changed much since the day of the Reaping: all black, loose hair, but with a much lighter air than he had been carrying before.
"I think I'd take the manticore right about now," he drawled in return, shoving a few loose strands out of his face as he made his way over to the couch opposite of her. "You?"
"I'd settle for the jarvey meat," Hermione replied, even as a slight grimace took over her face. Draco snorted with little amusement, but a strained smile pulled back on his lips.
"How'd the reunion go?" he asked, his smile slipping for a moment.
"Alright, I guess," Hermione shrugged, recalling the many conversations she had had. "A lot of hugs and tears. I couldn't be more than five feet out of Harry or Ron's line of vision I don't think, and Mrs. Weasley certainly got her fair share of news to spill to everyone afterwards. Everything worked out in the end, though. I'm just happy to see them all again. They're some of the only family I've got left."
Draco nodded, but didn't comment. His eyes flashed down to the couch cushions, and he didn't take his eyes away from it as he asked, "And you and Weasley worked out everything?"
Hermione didn't let herself think on why he was so keen to know, but she didn't refrain from filling him in. "Yes, we did. He and I discussed everything that happened before the games, and he explained everything he was feeling during my time in them. So we agreed that it was for the best that we simply remain friends."
Draco's stare had hardened to drilling into the couch like stone, but her last statement caught him off guard. His eyes finally flickered back up to her as he raised a quizzical brow. Hermione released a sigh and continued.
"I can't say I'm overly disappointed to hear this. Ron and I have been friends for so long, it just seems that at this point if we were to take it any further…well, it just seems like so much could go wrong. He mainly talked to me about everything he felt before for me, and everything that there might have been while we were in school. Now in regards to everything that's happened the last month or so, it just doesn't seem like it's there anymore. There's no doubt that I won't stop loving Ron, but it's more in the way that I love Harry. He's my friend and like a brother to me, and going beyond that just isn't in our interests anymore. And like I said before - I'm honestly okay with that."
Draco didn't say anything for the remainder of her small speech, and the silence that followed was dreadful. His eyes had locked themselves on the floor now, and her own nagging curiosity was trying to decipher the emotion swimming behind them.
"You really care about them all, don't you?" he finally asked. His question surprised her, and a slight frown furrowed her expression.
"Of course I do," she replied. "They're practically my family."
He didn't press further, and it bugged her beyond reason. Lowering her head just a little to see if it would catch his attention enough to look at her, she pressed on. "Draco, what's going on with that inflated ego of yours?"
She pulled a teasing grin as he looked up to throw her a glare. It slipped away again as his jaw worked itself around, seemingly trying to find the right words. It felt like hours before he finally spoke again.
"Back in the arena," he started. "You and I had created a truce to get each other through the Games. We promised we wouldn't kill each other in the middle of the night or anything like that, and we promised to try and get through it until the end."
"Right…" Hermione trailed off, not certain where he was going with this.
"You're friends seem to be some of the most important people in the world to you, Granger. You treat them like family. You'd do anything for them, even if it means going through these bloody things that they call a game. You'll be a Hermione Granger for any of them."
"Yes, but Draco, what - "
"Will you be honest with me, Hermione?"
She was cut short by his question yet again. "Of course."
Draco raised his eyes back up to look at her, nothing but raw questions in them. "If that truce was supposed to last for as long as it did, and as far as I know as of now, just tell me now if it was all an act to get out of them alive."
Hermione was shock-stricken. "What?"
"Did you pretend to play nice with Draco Malfoy to get out of the Hunger Games alive, and get back to the way things used to be with Potter and Weasley?" he asked again, this time his voice sharp and to the point.
She could only stare with wide eyes and a loss for words before she clamped her mouth shut again. She swallowed back her shock and took the opportunity planted before her to tell him what she hadn't before, and what had started the whole idea of a truce between Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger in the first place. And she told him everything. Down to the detail of what Narcissa had asked of her that first moment she had entered the very room they were having the conversation in about keeping him safe. Draco's eyes hardened with every sentence she said, but she made sure he didn't shut her out before she got to the part she wanted to know he heard.
It was all before she had seen the Draco Malfoy that she had never known. The broken boy who had done what he had to do to keep his family alive, and had lived most of his life outside of school with pure survival after his fifth year. From the moment they crawled out of the river and solidified what little truce there was between them, she had gotten the chance to see the side of the pale, ferret-like boy she never had when they were in school, or in the dim drawing room of his manor, or the final fight that had taken over the walls of Hogwarts.
"It was a side I had never seen in you before," she went on. "A side I had never seen until then. But getting the chance to in the Games, I've seen the way you've changed, Draco. You're not the boy you used to be, I can guarantee it for myself. But that last part I know you have to do for you. But as far as I'm concerned, and as far as I've seen from who've you shown yourself to be from then on…I am happy to call you my friend, Draco. As surprising as that may be, you're not so snobbish when you aren't a little white ferret."
The blonde across from her had taken her previous shock and registered it for himself. He hadn't taken his eyes off hers, and his eyes darted between the floor and back up to her, sinking in and wondering if what she had said was the truth. He didn't get long, though, as a rise of the audience outside the door leading to the press was pushed open momentarily and a figure stepped in, shutting the door firmly behind them again.
"They're ready for the victors now," their new escort leered behind another silver mask. "The Minister doesn't want to keep the people waiting."
Hermione and Draco both offered the Death Eater a curt nod before locking eyes with each other again. Both rose from their seats and headed for the door. As their escort turned their back on them to lead them out to the press once again, Hermione took a chance. Brushing her fingers to the side, she took Draco's hand in her own and gave it a light squeeze. His arm stiffened significantly, and she momentarily wondered if she had done the wrong thing.
Her worries were gently eased when he gave her hand a light squeeze in return. Neither had to look at the other to know that all had been reassured and forgiven.
"And now, the moment you all have been waiting for!" Yaxley's voice echoed from the opposite side of the door. The Death Eater swung it open and ushered them out and up a few steps. A black curtain blocked their view of the hundreds, perhaps even thousands, waiting to get a glimpse of the two enemies that had managed their way through the odds and ends of the Games. Anxious murmur had turned into impatience as the crowd opposite the stage rustled with anticipation. Draco gave her hand another light squeeze before dropping it back to his side.
Glancing down at the aster still situated in her cardigan pocket, Hermione drew a finger over the petals and took a steadying breath.
"May I present to you, ladies and gentlemen, witches and wizards, the victors of the third annual Hunger Games!"
Someone pushed Hermione forward from behind, and she nearly lost her footing as the curtain was pulled back. She didn't register the thousands of questions and comments being hurled her way as she looked out over the crowd of journalists bombarding their way towards the front. Over the heads of suits, dresses, and hats, all with pads and quills in hand, Hermione could see the separated outline of the crowd from the press to the gathered on lookers crammed yet again all into one place, awaiting the finale of the Games. The presentation of the victors was pure propaganda, anyone with half a brain could see it.
"We at the Ministry highly congratulate the two victors on their win," Yaxley continued, and Hermione didn't have to look at him to know the public smile had become strained. "And we hope to see them off and onto the next part of their lives. But before that, we'd like to take this opportunity to allow any of the press members to - "
"Miss Granger, what do you have to say about the manticore that attacked you?"
"Is there any connection to your names being drawn during the Reaping?"
"How is it two enemies managed in the arena?"
"What was the most difficult challenge for you two to overcome?"
"Mr. Malfoy! How do you intend to move forward now with the title of an ex-Death Eater and Hunger Games victor?"
"Has there been any sign of a forming relationship between you two?"
"Here for the Daily Prophet, but how would you describe your experience in the arena?"
"Is it true you're thinking of taking up a position at the Ministry to show your alliance with governments after the Games?"
"Miss Granger, right here, how - "
"Mr. Malfoy, what would you say - "
"What can you tell us - "
"Is there anything you'd like to add - "
"What will happen to you both after your return back into your private lives?"
The questions faded in and out as Hermione tried to account for them. She tried to find her voice to answer at least one of them, but she found her neck nearly cracking at the speed it whipped from left to right to keep track of who exactly was talking to her. She tried to keep her face as stoic and passive as she could, and Draco seemed to be doing a significantly better job. Masking his emotions must have been second nature.
Hermione glanced away from the reporters and towards the back of the crowd again, straining to no avail to try and find a group of red hair or a scar across a forehead. She could barely make out faces, much less who people really were.
"Miss Granger. Mr. Malfoy."
Hermione's hands refrained from clenching into fists at her sides. Her jaw clenched as she turned to meet the steely eyes of Yaxley. A smug smile had made its way across his face at her mild discomfort of the swarms of attention being thrown her way.
"Might I offer my congratulations again."
His hand extended out from beneath his dress robes, and cameras immediately shot into the air as flashes split the room in half. Her eyes briefly flicked to the side to see some of the reporters anxiously waiting for her response or reply. She was determined not to give them any.
Her hand came up and grasped his in a firm shake. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she kept her eyes trained on his. Yaxley only looked away from her when Draco moved to shake his hand in turn. She was sure that if looks as cold as Draco's when he shook the Minister's hand could freeze a man in place, Yaxley would have had to thaw himself out for at least a month.
"If I may, can I request a few pictures for the press?" Yaxley exclaimed in a sickeningly sweet and innocent tone. "I'm sure that's what they came for."
"Afraid we have a few other matters to attend to," Hermione snapped in reply. "But do give them our condolences. The pleasure was all ours, Minister."
Yaxley's smug grin slipped for only a second. In a sign of anger, and a sign of hate. A sign of warning when she didn't follow the rules in line.
Draco was the first to step aside, and Hermione followed. Down the stairs of the stage, so in contrast to the previous time she had been in that very room with a trembling fear of what she was going into, she followed the blonde in toe as they made their way back away from the thing they had dreaded and wanted to escape.
Hoards of reporters crowded around them, each shouting and demanding answers for their questions. Hermione didn't even glance at any of them as her eyes glued themselves to the back of Draco's jacket. The only one she had the will to glance at was only to send a threatening glare to a woman dressed in an all too familiar line of clothing. With her blonde hair set in elaborate curls, and her beady eyes peering at her and Draco over bejeweled spectacles, Hermione was satisfied when Rita Skeeter snapped her mouth shut again at Hermione's fiery gaze.
She followed him the rest of the way until they emerged at the front of the crowd, transferring from the press into the witches and wizards present at the previous assembly gathered in the wide hall. Curious eyes followed them as they made their way through, side by side with each other, one glancing around for heads of red hair while the other searched for blonde.
For a fleeting moment, Hermione wondered if they had already left again for Grimmauld Place, but the light tap on her shoulder caught her attention. Turning to Draco again, she followed his small nod towards the left, his silver eyes wide with a fleeting surprise.
Hermione kept her jaw firmly in place from falling open a bit. Just a ways away, and between a few scattered families blocking the view, Hermione could make out Harry along with the rest of the Weasley family. What surprised her above all others was the fact she caught two of the least likely people she would have thought to willingly hold a conversation with the Weasley's. She certainly would have thought so a few years prior, but as she and Draco slipped through the parting crowd and the figures of the Malfoy's and the Weasley's further came into view, her surprise began to slip away into a small smile.
Even before Narcissa had first stepped into the room to discuss her plan about her helping Draco, Hermione could feel something different. A sense of change, and not just within the household she had stayed in. Even with the title of blood-traitor, practically disowning themselves from the wizarding world with what the press presented them to be and the divides that had been created throughout her years at school, Hermione hadn't missed the fact that the Malfoy's, along with what she assumed to be many others in the mix, had changed.
The moment she had seen the small nod exchanged between Ron and Draco at the Reaping, there was an uncalled and unsaid sort of change. Not one she figured either were keen on admitting, but from what had seen, and what she had discovered with Draco during their time together, it wasn't something that was going to be gone anytime soon.
There were still plenty of cracks. Plenty of divots in the road on the way back to the world that Hermione had first discovered. Even if new pavement would set in, she was sure the things buried beneath wouldn't stay there forever. But the world was like that in so many ways. There would always be a darkness, waiting to bite and snap its jaws at the first ones it could get its hands on. Some of them may gladly go by choice, while others, like someone she knew, had been forced into a brief life they didn't want. The cracks might never fully heal, nor ever fully cover themselves.
However, that light in the shadow that would always rise to protect and to fight back the wrong that would try to overtake the world wouldn't fade away. It wouldn't disappear with the flick of a wand, or even leave after one too many hits. She knew none of them would give up until they finished what was started. What the Order was created to do, and what Dumbledore had left for them to finish. What Remus, Tonks, Moody, Sirius, Dobby, Fred…what all of them were fighting for. Hermione had no doubt it wasn't going to be an easy task to do so. The cracks wouldn't fade overnight; it would take time, it would take work, and it would take the very character of people in the end on whether or not they would leave the past where it belonged. It was meant to stay behind them, and help guild others into the future. She intended to stick with that, and she had a pretty good idea now on how to start.
It seemed the Weasley's and Malfoy's did, too.
Realizing she had been staring, Hermione lightly shook her head and blinked back the last remaining bits of her shock. Beside her, she heard Draco release a slow sigh. Glancing up at him, she caught the faint reminisce of a relieved smile across his face. Hermione couldn't help but share it with him, and she mindlessly placed her hand on his arm. The movement seemed to snap him out of his own shock and surprise, and he quickly turned to face her. Giving him a reassuring nod, she let her hand fall back to her side as she felt a multitude of eyes on them.
Draco sensed it, too, but he showed no sign that he knew, or frankly, that he cared. Hermione made a move to continue to meet the group, but the sudden hand extended out to her stopped her short.
A sudden memory flashed across her mind as she looked down at it. In the same room, weeks later, both battered and bruised physically and mentally, Hermione Granger looked back up at Draco Malfoy as he waited for her to take his hand. An unsaid truce to signify they wouldn't kill each other in the arena. Now, it was almost an unspoken promise they would help each other along the way even outside of it.
Hermione extended her own hand forward and clasped his in hers, giving it a light shake accompanied with a small smile. It was still odd to see a real smile across his face, other than his usual Malfoy smirk she had grown accustomed to in school, but she had to admit that seeing a small grin quirk the corner of his lips up wasn't such a bad sight to see.
Dropping their hands again, Draco gestured for her to go first. Hermione took the lead around the few people still obscuring the two families from view. The moment they stepped around and began to approach, Harry was the first to take notice.
Stepping away from the conversation between Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Narcissa, and a hushed conversation between Mr. Weasley and Lucius, he embraced Hermione in a few quick strides, closing the distance between them in an engulfing hug. She immediately felt another join them, and although they had only been apart for an hour or so, she let herself enjoy the moment wrapped in Harry and Ron's arms. No matter where she was, no matter what danger she was in, she always found it a comfort to know her two best friends would always be there when she needed them most.
Breaking away, Hermione turned to face Mrs. Weasly, a watery smile over her face as her eyes flicked from Hermione's face and down to the aster, still tucked into her coat pocket. It was all she needed to bring Hermione into a bone-crushing hug, holding her tight even as Ron encouraged her not to squeeze the life out of her.
"Mum, go easy on her," Ron chuckled. "I don't mind you getting a little weepy, but let her breathe just a little."
"Yes, yes, alright," Mrs. Weasley huffed, forcing herself back and dabbing at her eyes. "No need to get all willy-nilly now. You're back, safe and sound. No need for tears again."
Frankly, Hermione didn't mind as she returned her shaky grin. Holding back tears of her own as she went and hugged each of the Weasley's again, she couldn't have been more thankful in the moment for the family that had taken her in stride. Even with her parents still away in Australia, thankfully still safe and away from it all, the Weasley's had been nothing but kind to her.
At the thought of family, Hermione glanced behind her shoulder where she was standing next to George. A bit preoccupied with reacquainting with the family she had seen less than an hour prior, she felt a small twinge of guilt that she hadn't checked on Draco before being swept up in a few unshed tears and warm embraces.
She was thankful to see she hadn't needed to worry about a thing.
From what she had known about the Malfoy's trying to keep up appearances, it seemed that knowledge, for the moment at least, had gone out the window. Draco was standing in front of Narcissa, slightly blocking her from view. As he pulled her in for a hug of his own, Hermione caught a glimpse of a few stray tears sliding down Narcissa's cheek, glistening against pale yet pristine skin. Lucius stood behind her, one hand resting on her shoulder in what looked to be a comforting touch for them both.
As if he could sense being watched, his usually sharp gaze that could have cut through glass landed on her over his son's shoulder. Hermione's smile wavered for only a moment, wondering the exact reaction she was going to get from the Malfoy. Those same silver eyes that had been worn down by an ongoing war he had apparently wanted to get out of as soon as it had started fixated on her with an impassable expression. Slowly, she could see a flicker of what she could only assume was gratitude as he sent her a curt nod. There was no smug malice or hidden grudge behind it in regards to her heritage, and Hermione found herself returning his nod with one of her own.
She was sure the Malfoy's had grown an overabundance of knowing when they were being watched. The second Narcissa loosened her grip, Draco turned to follow his father's gaze and found her staring. Looking back to his mother, she let her hand linger on his arm as he slowly pulled himself away and turned to approach her.
A soft rustle caught her attention, and she turned to find both Ron and Harry standing at either shoulder. Their impassive expressions melted the smile from her face, but as Draco came to a stop a few feet in front of them, a light flurry of nerves fluttered in her stomach.
"Malfoy," Harry stated with a nod.
"Potter," he returned, his practiced mask slipping into place. The blonde flashed his eyes over to Ron as he gave him another nod. "Weasley."
Ron didn't offer a greeting, but didn't try to fire back with anything. Still, Hermione didn't see an overbearing grudge behind his eyes as he slipped his hands into his pockets. She briefly wondered if the two had come over just to stand over her shoulder like a protective shield from Draco, and the thought nearly had her speaking her assumption out loud. Before she could, though, she stared down at the hand suddenly extended out to Draco from her right. Harry waited patiently, eyes never wavering from Draco as the blonde took a second to look down at it himself. Almost hesitantly, Draco took it up and gave it a firm shake. He was the first to break away, but Harry didn't seem to mind. As she glanced up at her best friend again, Hermione didn't miss the glimmer in his striking green eyes; almost like a thanks.
Ron and Draco shared the same exchange, though her other best friend wasn't so keen on keeping quiet.
"I guess you're not so bad, Malfoy," he remarked nonchalantly. "You helped her get out alive at least."
"I'd say it was probably the other way around," the blonde replied, his eyes flicking down to her for a moment before returning to Ron. "Probably."
"You got that right," Hermione heard him mumble under his breath. Gently nudging him with her shoulder, Ron quickly snapped his mouth shut at anything else he had planned to say. Draco brushed the statement off with the raise of one pale eyebrow as Mrs. Weasley came up to Ron's side.
"Honestly, some of these reporters don't have an inch of self-respect, trying to get a glimpse and a few photographs," she scowled, glancing behind her at a few reporters trying to weasel their way through the crowd and towards their group, one of which Hermione took note of was Rita Skeeter. "What say we head out then, now that we managed to find you two again. I'd rather not be here any longer than we need to."
It didn't go unnoticed that she included Draco in joining them to take their leave, and her eyes briefly flicked over to the two Malfoy's over Draco's shoulder. Even with their calm exteriors, she could vaguely tell Narcissa and Lucius were ready to leave the Ministry at whatever window they could find with Draco right behind them.
"Are you just trying to tell Yaxley that he can sod off?" George asked as the rest of the Weasley's came to join them in their little huddle. Mrs. Weasley sent him a small but stern look, but he still grinned wide from ear to - well, where the other one was supposed to be, when she didn't counter his question.
Taking Mr. Weasley's hand in hers, Mrs. Weasley was the first to meander their way through the surrounding families, quickly followed by the rest of the Weasley's. Draco stepped aside as his parents joined him towards the back of the group a ways behind the Golden Trio. Harry and Ron were still on the other side of her, for what she now assumed was for the sake of blocking out the few camera shots that filtered in through the crowds of gathered families every once in a while. The further they came to the back of the crowded room, the more Hermione took in the opportunity to take in the Ministry building as they approached the elevators.
It seemed like a lifetime ago she stepped out of them and into another life entirely, one in which she had to train with a weapon, learn what foods would fill and kill you, and how to survive an attack from a maze that felt like death closing in. It felt like a lifetime ago that she shook Draco's hand on the platform and Narcissa had come to see if she would accept the challenge of finding a truce in her past with Draco. It seemed like a lifetime ago she found that the past could be put behind them, and that she and Draco had become what she would consider the most unlikely of friends.
"What's going on in that bushy brain of yours?" a voice asked from beside her. Hermione hadn't even realized she had fallen behind the group a bit as they passed by the surrounding guards, eying them with disdain as they made their way towards the elevators.
"This isn't the end of all this, is it?" she asked, already knowing what his answer was going to be.
Draco snorted with no humor. "Far from it," he replied. "I don't think you've forgotten what Yaxley told you."
She glanced to see his eyes involuntarily move towards her cheek where Narcissa had been quick to help patch up the damage he had left behind.
"None of this will go away, at least not in the short-run," he continued, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Yaxley wants us as posters, and something that he can use to show off. Something to show that he has the power and the control to keep the Ministry and everyone of the Dar - Voldemort's followers under his thumb. I'd think to call it the beginning, and not so much as an end."
"I feel like there's a 'but' in that statement somewhere," Hermione teased, letting a small grin pull up at the corner of her lips for just a moment.
"But," Draco finished, rolling his eyes a little even with the twitch to his own smile. "That doesn't have to be such a bad thing. This is just the beginning of another propaganda stunt for the press and future tributes, yes, but it could be the beginning for something the Ministry is already starting to fear."
"A rebellion of sorts?" Hermione asked, her eyes widening slightly in understanding. "Like the Order?"
"That's not a bad way to put it," Draco agreed, his voice lowering as he glanced over his shoulder. The habit of watching who was listening apparently didn't wear away so quickly. "I don't have to tell you for you to know that things have obviously changed since the end of the war, and things have changed more than ever now that we managed to get out of that thing they called a game with both of our heads still attached. But saying that, people will take notice that the Hermione Granger went in with Draco Malfoy, and neither ended up killing the other. The Ministry doesn't want people to think there's a chance. They don't want something like this to have an effect. They don't - "
"They don't want people fighting back," Hermione finished for him. "They don't want another war out of fear they'll lose it again."
"Precisely," Draco nodded in agreement, coming to a stop a little ways behind the Weasley's but still far enough ahead of Narcissa and Lucius. "The last thing they need is for the Order to regroup. At times like this, allies will pop up in the most unexpected places."
"I can't deny that," Hermione exclaimed quietly, looking up to him to further her statement. She didn't have to push it further to know that he knew what she meant. They had been trapped together in an arena for weeks only to come out with more than a truce, but a friendship between them.
Unexpected allies indeed.
"Move it, then, blood-traitor!" a voice rang out in front of them, snapping both of their attention towards the front of the now opened elevator doors. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley hurried in with heads held high and a familiar strength she couldn't miss. The younger of the Weasley's didn't try to hide their glares from the smirking guard waiting by the elevator lift to send them back up to the main entrance.
Leaving Draco where he was, Hermione followed Harry into the lift. Before turning around again so she wouldn't have to face the crowded elevator, she caught a glimpse of Harry slipping his fingers into Ginny's hand. She intertwined them together and sent him a reassuring smile. Hermione couldn't help but smile herself as, beneath his strands of unkempt hair from the last few days, the tips of his ears glowed a nice pink.
Turning her back to face the same direction as the Weasley's, more and more families had started to make their way back and crowded around to try and find the next available elevator. Guards surrounded them on either side, some of their faces obscured by silver masks. Even with the knowledge that they were still being watched, and although she was leaving the Ministry and the game behind, this wasn't the end. Hermione let herself breathe a small sigh as Draco's eyes locked back onto hers.
A faint grin pulled his lips back into a smile, and Hermione returned it with one of her own. She gave him a final nod as the chime of the elevator sounded overhead and the doors began to slide shut. When the seal shut out the distant chatter of the incoming crowds, and she was staring back at her own blurry reflection in the tainted gold lining, Hermione felt her mind go blank, suddenly amused at the idea that Hermione Granger truly had nothing to say. The last period in another chapter of her life had been written, this time exploring her days in the arena of the sick and twisted ways of the Hunger Games.
She had gone into the depths of Hogwarts to find a magical stone.
She had been paralyzed in her second year at Hogwarts by a terrifying creature.
She had rescued an innocent creature and an innocent man from execution.
She had survived her first date and first dance with a famous quidditch player.
She joined an organization in the walls of Hogwarts to avoid the influence of a crazy Ministry official dubbed "Dumbledore's Army".
She had gone through the ups and downs of a hard, school crush.
She had searched high and low for Horcruxes with her two best friends, finally topping it off with the death of Lord Voldemort.
She had remained in hiding for a world she couldn't face, and was forced into a game she hadn't wanted to be a part of from the start.
Now, she was the victor of the Hunger Games.
Alongside one Draco Malfoy.
With a hidden rebellion churning beneath the surface, and a shift in the tide of what the past had brought and what the future might become, Hermione wasn't entirely sure what would come next.
Then again, she never truly did. Life would throw her curves, ups and downs, and round-abouts from the smooth path she usually expected. But that was the fun of it all, and she knew she had to be ready for whatever life was planning to throw at her next, whether that be another war or even her own heart. Whatever it was, she was prepared. She was ready. She would win.
Let the games begin.
Hello my fellow Potterheads!
I hope you all enjoyed the finale of 'Harry Potter and the Reaping', and as promised, the sequel one-shot will be released ASAP! After this, I might take some time to myself to re-evaluate my time management and what not for my writing, but feel free to keep up to date with a few of my other works and be sure to keep an eye out for that one-shot!
Also, the next chapter is just a quick overview of some of a few of the trials and what not that were thrown in as, like I had said before, this was an assignment that was meant to be a crossover story, so a few of the trials and moments from this fic were inspired from Harry Potter and The Hunger Games series. If you're curious, take a look to see about the inspiration!
But, overall, that's all I have left to say for the time being. And, as always, I hope you lovely Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins all have a magical morning, afternoon, evening, or night! :)
-Summerwinds
P.S. Dramione kiss to come in the one-shot...(wink wink)