"Stop panicking!" Ron groaned, rolling his eyes. "You are the most famous witch in the Wizarding World right now. You will be offered whatever job you want!"

"That's not the point Ronald! I want to achieve my dreams with my own hard work, not from my so called 'Fame!'." Hermione shouting, arms flailing in exasperation. Ron huffed and walked away from her back into the living room, muttering under his breath about Hermione being bonkers. Hermione hated the so-called 'fame' that came with being part of the Golden Trio. It infuriated her that no seemed to expect her to do anything for herself anymore, thinking she would be happy to drift through life receiving opportunities based on her name and affiliation with Harry Potter. Besides, she didn't even know what she wanted to do! Its not like she had, had much time to think about it over the last year.

Ron however, seemed to love the idea, already having contacted the Aura office and Chudley Cannons for job opportunities. The Chudley Cannons offered him a position right away, offering to let him choose what position he would like to play. Hermione and Harry had convinced him to hold off and see what would happen with Hogwarts since the Aura office had offered them both a position based on the N.E.W.T grades. This made Hermione hold the Aura office in very high esteem indeed. She loved that they didn't just hand the job to them on a golden platter.

Harry put his arm around her shoulder, squeezing him into her side. "Please don't worry Hermione. Everything will work out." Hermione stepped out of his embrace and lent against the kitchen unit, looking out the window. A dark gray shadow floated in the sky, fluttering. Hermione focused on the dot as it drew larger, coming closer. It wasn't until she heard the familiar sound of an owl's squawk that she recognised the moving shadow. Flying towards The Burrow was a large grey Owl carrying 4 white envelopes. As they approached she recognised the unmistakable red wax seal. "Hogwarts..." She whispered to herself, excitement buzzing over her skin.

Molly Weasley had been tending to her herb garden when the owl arrived. When she heard the owl's call she glanced up, covered her eyes from the glare of the summer sun as she searched the sky. The large grey owl fluttered down to perch on the fence next to Molly. She collected the letters from the owl and retrieved a treat from her pocket, paying the owl for its troubles. Molly turned the envelopes over in her hands to see the wax seal with the Hogwarts emblem and let out an excited squeal before she came dashing past the kitchen window back into the house. "Ron! Hermione! Harry dear! Letters!" She turned to see them watching her with an amused look on their faces. "Well what are you waiting for! Open them!"

The Trio ripped the envelopes open at once, and scanned the letters quickly.

"We're going back! They are letting us go back for a final year!" Hermione gushed.

Molly took Hermione's letter, reading it carefully.

Dear Miss Granger,

We are happy to have the opportunity to write and inform you that you have been invited to return to Hogwarts for an 8th Year in which you will be able to complete your N.E.W.T.s.

The teaching board and council acknowledges that this previous year has been one of fear, loss and healing. And we would like to extend our gratitude to all students who fought in the war and our heartfelt condolences to those who lost loved ones.

The school has undergone much rebuilding and looks forward to welcoming back all previous students to complete their schooling.

Please find enclosed a list of all supplies needed for your chosen classes.

It may be difficult for many of you to return to Hogwarts considering what has happened but I wish to assure you that we will do everything we can to make you feel like you are returning home.

We look forward to seeing you in the new school year

Kind regards

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress of Hogwarts

Molly clapped her hands together in joy and kissed Ron, Harry and Hermione in turn. "I'm so pleased for you all!, we must go and get your books!" Molly turned and dashed from the room yelling "I'll go and tell Arthur!"

"I'll go and tell Ginny she has another year with us to annoy her" Harry laughed scooping up Ginny's letter and ran up the stairs to her room, leaving Hermione and Ron alone.

After the War Ron and Hermione had spent most of their time together. They thought after the years of swooning over each other, their year searching for horcruxes that their relationship had grown to be more that it had before. Relying on each other for strength and then the kiss they had shared during the battle, they thought it had been the start of something special. Something more.

They spent much of their summer comforting each other the only way they knew how. Holding each other and sharing timid kisses. Never really speaking of what had happened in any serious way. Too scared to mention anything that may cause the other to break. They held together for each other, as much as they could at least. There were times when Hermione would find Ron sobbing into his pillow, or stopping on his way past Fred and George's old room, trying to pick up the courage to open the door but never really finding the strength. Hermione's heart would break just a little bit more every time she saw his brave façade drop. The war had left every one of them with trauma, scars and hollow aching holes they struggled to fill.

Ginny and Harry lost themselves in each other filling the voids by taking comfort in putting each other together again. On the outside it looked easy for them. Hermione knew that it wasn't, though this didn't stop her feeling jealous of their easy love for each other.

Ron and Hermione had tried to copy them, for each other, however no matter how many kisses they shared or time they spent holding each other there was always a nagging empty feeling inside.

The truth was that nothing could replace the memories of what they went through or what Hermione had done for her parents. Nothing could chase away the nightmares that plagued her or the panic that washed through her everyday as the memories ran through her mind.

Ron and Hermione still loved each other dearly, but Hermione soon realised her relationship with Ron was not romantic, it was just what they thought they needed at the time. Hermione had ended it one night as Ron started to suck on her neck and she hadn't the energy to pretend to give him the reaction he was looking for. Ron, of course, had been offended. Fighting back with her that they belonged together. Telling her that no one else would understand her the way he did then eventually slipping into his old insults about how no one else would put up with her bookworm know it all attitude. It had hurt, but it was the right thing to do. Ron didn't speak to Hermione for a few weeks but eventually they seemed to naturally drift back into the strong friendship they had always shared.

After Voldemort's death the Malfoys rushed to go into hiding. If the Ministry didn't come for them it wouldn't be long until Voldemort supporters tracked them down and killed them for abandoning their posts. They had gone straight back to the manor after the battle and took as little as possible before strengthening wards surrounding the property and apparating to their villa in France. Lucius needed to protect his son's inheritance. He knew it wouldn't be long before he would be found and tried for his participation as a Death Eater and he wanted to insure his family's security before it happened. The longer they hid the better he could plan his defense. It had only been one month before one of the elves exclaimed that they had been found

"Master! angry men! they coming! The door! The door!"

Lucius gave his wife one last longing kiss before telling Narcissa and Draco to follow him. When they entered the entrance hall to their Villa they all dropped to their knees raising their hands into the air, their wands placed by their knees. Narcissa stretched for Draco's hands as the French Ministry soldiers burst through the door and screamed commands at them. Draco was forced to the floor as he was bound, the silent tears that trickled down his mothers cheeks choked him.

They had been apparated to the British Ministry for sentencing before being taken to Azkaban. Draco shivered in his cold damp cell, the dementors had been rounded up and taken back to Azkaban to prowl and feed from the filth that resided there. He felt they favoured him, too often he was forced to hear her screams replayed in his head, just like he was back in the drawing room of the manor.

Draco was lucky though, he hadn't been there a month before his trial. He had been informed that there had been anonymous accounts given to them proving he had not killed Albus Dumbledore, and had in fact been an aid to the destruction of a Horcrux. Draco had not understood the second part of their statement but did not question it as he was told this was their deciding factor to release him, clearing him of aiding Death Eaters entrance into the Castle.

Draco had returned to the Manor without either of his parents, leaving him with only the house elves and his memories for company. When he entered his room his desk was covered in too many letters and howlers from those who disagreed with his release, wishing him dead. He was grateful to receive 2 letters from the only allies he had left. Blaise Zabini had written to let him know he was pleased he didn't need to find a new wingman, while Pansy Parkinson had asked him when she could visit to give him "what he's been missing". Draco cringed at the thought. Pansy had been a welcome distraction during his years at Hogwarts but that's all she was, a distraction.

Draco Groaned and threw all the mail in the flames of his fireplace, rubbing exhaustion from his eyes. He needed a shower and a good night sleep, it had been months since he had slept in his bed. Though he doubted he would sleep knowing his mother was still in that hell hole.

Draco removed his oversized clothing as he stood in front of the mirror. He hadn't seen himself since before the battle. His whole time in France he didn't dare look at his reflection in fear of what he would see. He had barely eaten his final year and his appetite hadn't returned since. His face was gaunt and colourless, his cheeks had drawn in making his jaw and cheekbones even sharper, his eyes sunken and tired. He slowly unbuttoned his black shirt, revealing his collar bones, hollow spaces above them making them more obvious than they already were. He lowered his shirt from his shoulders, dropping it to the floor. His ribs protrude and his hip bones jutted out making him look almost skeletal. It sickened him to look at himself. There was a pop and a gasp behind him. His reflection showed Gipsy his house elf staring at him in shock, her tiny hand covering her mouth, her giant bulging eyes scanning his body.

"Gipsy is sorry sir! Gipsy does not mean to stare!" she averted her eyes and lifted a white envelope to him. "This just arrived for master Draco."

Draco reached down and took the envelope, turning it over to reveal the familiar red seal. "Thank you Gipsy. You may go." Gipsy hesitated reaching up as if to touch Draco's hip and drew her hand back quickly when he flinched away.

"Gipsy will bring dinner for Master Draco." and she popped out of sight.

Draco stared at the envelope turning it in his fingers, feeling the sharp edges. He let out a long suffering sigh before placing it on the gray satin sheets of his bed, resigning to read it after his shower. Draco cast a fogging charm over all the mirrors in his bedroom and bathroom before continuing to remove his clothes.

As the water hit his body he marveled at how perfect it felt slipping over him. Too perfect. He didn't deserve comfort. He didn't deserve the Manor, or the elves. He didn't deserve whatever was bound to be in the envelope sat on his bed. His mind drifted to his mother, how she was still in the icy stone room, no bed, rarely food and the demons that sucked all joy from her soul. He turned the water as cold as he could, letting the water freeze his skin and his muscles to shiver until they felt like they might seize. This is what he deserved. As he became numb his mind cleared of his mother, the images replaced by warm chocolate eyes and long fluttering lashes. He didn't deserve her.