Breakfast the next morning was significantly more subdued than it usually was at Hogwarts. Students chatted quietly among themselves, but the conversations were soft and almost hesitant. Everyone, even the first-years, knew what had happened here, and a grim heaviness seemed to have settled over the entire place.

"Pass the porridge, please," said Sophie Roper, who was sitting opposite Hermione at the Gryffindor table. Hermione slid the bowl of porridge over to Sophie, and it skidded on the wooden table as she did. A little bit of porridge slopped out, and Hermione swore under her breath. She pulled out her wand and aimed it at the mess she'd made, muttering,

"Tergeo."

The puddle of porridge was Siphoned up, and Sophie wordlessly took the bowl of food. She ladled some into her own dish, and then a loud squawking sounded from behind Hermione. She whirled round to see a flood of owls descending upon the Great Hall. Brown owls, snowy owls, black owls… all bearing post for the students. Hermione suspected that many people's parents would have already written asking for reassurance that all was well at the school where a battle had transpired just months earlier. Other owls certainly came with copies of the Daily Prophet for students to stay apprised of the fast-moving changes in the Ministry of Magic and with the fallout of Voldemort's demise.

Hermione was surprised when not one, not two, but three owls dropped off parcels where she sat. She raised her brows as she realised she had two letters and a copy of the newspaper. She started with the Daily Prophet, reading,

ANTONIN DOLOHOV ADMINISTERED THE DEMENtOR'S KISS.

Hermione's stomach suddenly went cold. She gulped as she remembered vividly how, in the Department of Mysteries, Antonin Dolohov had struck her with a slash of purple flame that had sent her crumpling to the ground in a fit of extreme pain. She had probably been bleeding internally from the Curse, and she would never forget the look of unmitigated glee in Dolohov's eye the moment Hermione fell. She loathed him, she thought. She couldn't help but loathe him. He was wicked; he was evil. He deserved the Dementor's Kiss. Didn't he? If anyone did, it was Antonin Dolohov.

"Did you see this?" She elbowed Ginny Weasley and showed her the newspaper. Ginny's eyes went round as saucers and she gazed at Hermione for a moment.

"How do you feel about that?" Ginny asked.

"I dunno. Relieved, I suppose," Hermione sighed. "It doesn't undo what he did to me."

"No, it doesn't," Ginny agreed. "I suppose my brother wrote to you and not me."

"What? Oh." Hermione looked at the two letters that had come in the post. She recognised the handwriting on the outside of each one instantly. One was from Harry, and the other was from Ron. She broke the seal on Harry's letter first, pulling it out and unfolding the parchment.

Hermione, it read, Auror training is hard, but worth it. I'm looking forward to doing some real field work before they've managed to catch the last of the hiding Death Eaters. I really want to be in on that action. I'm sure you understand why. Hope you're doing well at school. Well, there's no doubt about that. You always do well at school. Anyway, we'll all see each other soon. - Harry

Hermione tapped the parchment with her fingertips and turned to Ginny, who was reading a letter with pinked cheeks. Hermione smiled in amusement and asked,

"What, is that from Harry?"

"Mmm-hmm," Ginny said softly, quickly folding her letter and insisting, "It's private."

Hermione couldn't help but guffaw then, making Ginny's cheeks darken more than ever. Hermione silenced her laugh and just smiled warmly at Ginny.

"He cares for you. A lot," Hermione said. "He wants you, I think."

"Well, if his letter's any indication," Ginny whispered, grinning. Hermione nodded and opened her other letter, which was from Ron. She was expecting the same sort of gleeful romantic discovery that Ginny had had from Harry. She was expecting a long diatribe about how much Ron missed her, how it wasn't the same without her about, how he couldn't wait for the holidays to see her. But instead, all the letter said was,

Hermione, Heard you've got Lucius Malfoy as a 'teacher' this term. That can't be good. Bet you're not having too much fun with him around. Anyway, Auror training is great. See you soon. - Ron.

Hermione's face fell. She sighed heavily and read the brief missive three more times. She and Ron had kissed time and time again over the summer. Was he really going to send this and call it a letter after all that?

"What's wrong? Is something wrong with Ron?" Ginny asked. Hermione pinched her lips, unsure of how to answer that question. She just handed the letter over to Ginny, who read it and then tossed her hands up.

"That's it?" she demanded. "After how the two of you have… that's it? Ronald! I ought to send him a Howler."

"No, Ginny. I'm sure he's just busy," Hermione argued, though that made no sense seeing as Harry had had time to write to both Ginny and Hermione. She shook her head and said, "I'll write back to him tomorrow."

"Hmph," Ginny huffed, turning back to her breakfast. Hermione's eyes trailed up to the Head Table, noticing the distinctive absence of Professor Snape. She thought of how it had turned out he'd been on the right side in the end, and she let out a heavy sigh. She remembered taking Snape's memory in his last moments; the idea of it was seared into her mind as though it had been yesterday. Although, Hermione supposed, it hadn't really been so long ago.

Her eyes then slipped down the line of teachers until she reached Lucius Malfoy, who was quietly eating his breakfast. He looked somewhat gaunt and sallow compared to how Hermione remembered him at the Department of Mysteries or in their second and third years. He'd never looked more alive than when he'd been at the Quidditch World Cup. Now, though, he looked tired and… sad? Was he sad? Did Hermione care whether Lucius Malfoy was sad? He was probably feeling isolated from the world he'd known, she thought. He probably felt awfully alone now that all of his friends had been sent to Azkaban and Lucius had been sent to Hogwarts, away from his wife and son.

But that wasn't Hermione's problem.

She let out a long breath and turned back to her food, eating heartily as she considered just how much had changed.

"Welcome, seventh-years, to Potions!" cried Horace Slughorn. "Now, I know that many of you have missed a year of study, but, never fear. You'll get the hang of it again in no time at all."

Hermione looked at Ginny and Sophie Roper, and the three of them exchanged serious looks.

"Today," bellowed Slughorn, "We shall be brewing a very specific type of attraction potion, called the Draught of Magnes. It is… yes, Miss Granger?"

Hermione's arm had flown into the air of its own accord, but now that she'd been called upon, she spoke up and said,

"Excuse me, Professor Slughorn, but aren't love potions terribly unethical?"

"This particular potion," said Slughorn, "is unique in that it is not one-sided. You see…"

He began to pace, tapping his wand with his left fingers as he contemplated,

"The Draught of Magnes is a concoction which must be inhaled by two enemies. Those enemies, having inhaled or ingested the potion, will be quite friendly toward one another. This is, Miss Granger, a peace potion. Not a love potion."

"Oh." Hermione's mouth fell open a little. How had she never heard of this particular draught? Mightn't it be useful in making the wizarding world united again? Couldn't it have uses in the political world, or in -

No, she thought. It's still unethical to make people feel things against their will.

Just the same, she obeyed Professor Slughorn's directions for brewing the draught, determined to achieve high marks in all her classes. She crushed her African sea salt and boiled it in the Standard Potioning Water, adding seaweed and a dried urchin. Once she had her seascape, she added her Bulbadox Juice and her Lobalug Venom.

"Careful with this stuff," Ginny warned Hermione, gesturing to the Lobalug Venom between them. "Doesn't the Ministry strictly control it?"

"Who knows what the Ministry does anymore?" Sophie Roper huffed. "We haven't had a real Ministry in years."

"Kingsley Shacklebolt is a real Minister," Ginny almost growled. Sophie looked surprised at the strength of Ginny's response but just nodded and added her own ingredients to her potion. Suddenly, the contents of Sophie's cauldron burst into flames, and Sophie screamed and flew backward. Ginny stifled a little laugh, and Hermione raised her eyebrows. Professor Slughorn rushed over to Sophie's desk and put out the fire, shaking his head and tutting,

"You oversaturated your water with salt, Miss Roper. Scour your cauldron and try again for half marks."

Sophie looked distraught, but she nodded and set to work cleaning out her cauldron. Soon enough, Hermione's own potion was finished, and she called Professor Slughorn over to check it. He let out a booming laugh of approval and said,

"Oh, well done, Miss Granger. I see you haven't lost your academic touch in your time away from Hogwarts."

Hermione's stomach churned at that, and she bowed her head, but Slughorn barrelled on,

"I daresay this is a perfectly done Draught of Magnes. You may keep a vial."

"Keep a vial?" Hermione repeated, shocked. Slughorn nodded vigorously.

"One never knows when it might come in handy to make enemies into friends, eh?"

Hermione frowned but nodded. She went to fetch a glass vial, and she dropped potion into it. She Siphoned and Scoured the rest of her cauldron as Ginny got passing marks and Sophie earned half marks. As they were packing up their rucksacks, Ginny asked,

"Who're you going to use it on?"

"I'm not going to use it," Hermione told Ginny. "I still think this stuff is dangerous. And unethical. I don't like it. Making people like someone just because of a potion. What if someone used it on Voldemort and me? How would I feel about that?"

"I suppose you'd like Voldemort," Ginny mused, and then Hermione just smiled a little and rolled her eyes. She shook her head and muttered,

"I've got History of Magic next, which I assume you haven't signed up for this term."

"No, I most certainly have not," Ginny said. "Enjoy Professor Binns."

"Well, at least he's not an enemy," Hermione said. "See you."

"See you," Ginny replied, and they parted ways in the Potions Corridor. Hermione made her way up from the dungeons and was walking down a corridor, turning her vial of Draught of Magnes over and over in her hand. She stared at the lavender-coloured liquid and sighed.

Then, very suddenly, she crashed into something hard. At first, Hermione thought she'd been stupid enough to run straight into a pillar or a wall. But then she dropped everything in her hands and looked up to see Lucius Malfoy in front of her. He'd dropped his papers, too, some of which he'd evidently been reading when he and Hermione had run into each other. They both bent down and started gathering up their respective papers.

And then Hermione noticed it.

The shattered vial of Draught of Magnes, lying in a purple puddle on the ground with little bits of broken glass around it. She gasped, breathing in deeply, and Lucius Malfoy demanded,

"What is that, Miss Granger?"

"It's…" She raised her eyes to him, and suddenly his grey eyes seemed to warm. She shook her head firmly and whipped out her wand, aiming it at the spilled potion. "Evanesco. It was my work from Potions class, sir."

"And are you… quite skilled with Potions?" asked Malfoy. Hermione raised a brow as they stood, and she whispered,

"I'm passable."

She felt a sudden compulsion to reach out and touch his chest. Her fingers trailed through the air between them and settled on the front of his black velvet robes. Lucius Malfoy seemed entranced for a half second, and then he grasped Hermione's wrist and tossed it away.

"Do not touch me," he snarled, but then his face softened and he murmured, "I apologise."

Hermione felt a shock rocket through her. He…. he was sorry? For anything? She shook her head and said,

"No. It was me. I'm not sure what came over… It's me who's sorry."

"In any case." Malfoy snapped his robes tightly and said almost gently, "On to your next lesson, Miss Granger."

"Yes., sir." She felt numb and empty as he walked away. She stared after him, feeling like a fool, feeling confused, and she finally whispered, "Professor Malfoy."

Notes: Uh-oh. They're both in trouble now. Will Lucius go to Slughorn to figure out what the potion was and get an antidote? Or will the Draught of Magnes take its full effect? Is Slughorn right that these Peace Potions could be used a lot more liberally in a post-war world, or is Hermione right not to trust it? Hmm.

Thanks so much as always for reading and reviewing.