It is...one in the morning here in Oklahoma and I'm bored, and this was already in my docs ready to go. I'm already two chapters ahead on Wanderlust, so I might as well update this and dig into chapter three tomorrow. Which chapter three is mostly written. Thank you so much to all of the readers who followed (NINETY ONE?), favorited, and reviewed! I don't usually reply to everyone because no one ever replies and I don't like to creep readers out. But please know that each email I get makes me whole day! This is roughly planned for twentyish chapters.

Chapter Two

It felt familiar, stepping off the Hogwarts Express as it rolled into Hogsmeade station with a final wheeze from the engine. Hermione could vividly recall each time she had disembarked alongside Harry, and Ron through the years. She was reminded of how busy the village typically was as students returned, and she knew it wasn't right to judge her surroundings so immediately after the war, but -

Hogsmeade was empty. The doors of the shops were closed, and with what she imagined what could feel like the final nail in Malfoy's twisted psyche - again, the profile Kingsley left with her threatened to weigh her down at her side -, Madam Rosmerta was there at the end of the platform, her arms crossed.

Hermione glanced over her shoulder, not sure what she expected to see, but Malfoy's face was blank. Malfoy grabbed her shoulder suddenly, earning a squeak as he pushed her backward. She nearly toppled over their trunks, and her eyes were wide with worry. If Malfoy flung a curse at Rosmerta, if the way his fingers were wrapped around his wand were any indication, she wasn't sure how she was going to explain it to the Minister of Magic, and even less the Wizengamot.

"You don't need your wand." Rosmerta told him quietly, walking toward him with the hem of her skirt dragging along the wooden platform. The boards were old, rickety even, and they creaked under her weight. "Really, boy, I want to talk to you, not kill you."

She didn't need to be in front of him to know his eyes had narrowed, and that his jaw was clenched. Nonetheless, he slipped his wand back into his pocket, and showed his hand. The show of courtesy was more than Hermione could have expected from him, but she was reminded of his voice as he sneered that he did have manners. Hermione watched uneasily, wary that she would have to break up a duel.

Who could blame Rosmerta if she did want blast Malfoy?

"Then what do you want?" Malfoy sneered. "If you're here to make threats of how you're going to take revenge on me for what I've done to you, I'm afraid you'll have to get in line. Half of the Wizarding World is already ahead of you."

Rosmerta laughed, an airy sound that was too cheerful to belong in the dead town Hogsmeade had become. "It's nothing like that."

Hermione glanced between them, startled.

The older woman rested a hand on his shoulder, a motion he flinched away from. Malfoy's move were subtle, and if Hermione had torn her eyes away from him for even a moment, she would have missed it. "I had the chance to speak to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, you know?"

He shook his head. "I've no idea why I would know, but the old coot was always meddling. Did he try to convince you to forgive me?"

Hermione's hand fell to her side, finally letting go of her wand just in case, and she was stunned. Through the trials of captured Death Eaters, she had sat through discussions of pure evil. The topic of revels made her stomach turn, and it had been more than once she'd excused herself to vomit in the loo. A feat not easily achieved for her, as she thought she'd been through the worst in the last year.

Malfoy hadn't been captured. In an odd circumstance, he handed himself over, but not to the Ministry. When he'd wound up on the door place of Grimmauld Place, he's surrendered his wand to Harry, and let the Boy Who Lived take him to the aurors. It came out that Dumbledore had tried to save him, but it wasn't until the Wizengamot allowed the portrait of Albus Dumbledore to testify in Malfoy's trial that she understood what transpired that night in the Astronomy Tower.

But forgiveness? It wasn't a word she'd ever associated with Malfoy.

Rosmerta's laugh was like windchimes, light, and not at all like the woman Malfoy had targeted on a night in Hogsmeade, and then been used as a henchman for the Death Eaters. "Albus asked me if I could ever forgive you, yes. For now the answer is a very solid absolutely not."

Draco nodded, turning his head up as if it were the only way to keep the upper hand. "Not that I blame you. I'm not sure what business you have talking to me anyway, but I'll be," As he turned to levitate his trunk once more, Rosmerta's hand shot out to grab him by the crook of his elbow. "Get your hands off of me." He snarled, smacking the offending hand away.

"Dumbledore wanted me to pass along a message. That's why I'm here, not because I have a vested interest in your soul remaining intact."

He scoffed. "How optimistic of the former headmaster considering I'm positive I only have shards of a soul. Sod off, and keep his sickenly sweet, false words to yourself." He levitated both of their trunks, the latch of his scraping against Hermione's back through her thin shirt. "Don't look at me like that. Let's go, Granger." He barked bitterly.

With a shrug of her shoulders, and with her lips set into a scowl, Hermione waved goodbye to the barmaid, and followed Malfoy. "You do know where to go, don't you?" Hermione called.

He didn't offer a reply.

Part of hosting a summer camp that was on the edge of the Great Lake, and at the edge of the Forbidden Forest was to make sure it was safe for children. Considering some of them were younger, and that she knew exactly what several of them could get into, it took serious vetting by volunteers to comb through the forest. There was a ward set in place if anyone were to reach a certain part in the tree line, or even a certain area of the water.

As Malfoy walked beside her, sometimes falling a pace, or even two behind her, she mulled over what she would say to the others. Hannah and Michael had been clear choices, McGonagall said. However with Leanne Smith returning as well, and the interaction with Rosmerta still fresh in her mind, she wasn't sure how any of this could go well.

The kids would arrive the next day so Hermione would have enough time to review anything with the other counselors. And as they approached, slipping through the invisible ward, Hermione smirked when a mask of surprise covered his face. "Did you think we were just going to be out in the open?" She laughed.

The weather was only slightly warm, but there was a breeze once they stepped inside the wards. A planned feature by her as it was dreadfully hot this summer, and she had no desire to chase children while sweating her proverbial bollocks off.

"Well, no." He replied, his tone sour and he didn't make the effort to look at her. "Typically you can't feel the wards when you pass through them." Malfoy noted.

"I know that." She said simply, shouldering her beaded bag. "When I came out here a week ago to create the wards - there's several layers -, I wasn't able to create one where we would be alerted to a breach without also feeling it as we stepped through. It's tailored to let the counselors in, and out, but not the children. I suppose I could probably add Padma to the outgoing, but beyond that, it will allow aurors in, or Kingsley."

He scoffed at her use of the Minister of Magic's first name. "Not your precious Wizengamot? I would have thought they would be stopping by to make sure I'm not teaching young minds the Dark Arts."

She snorted, her hand flying up to cover her face at the loud sound, and his smirk widened. "Especially not them. They don't even care about these kids, whether they're unable to take care of themselves, or our age. I understood I needed their approval, but there is nothing saying I have to let them see what's going on for themselves."

"Surely they would have put that in the agreement."

She tutted. "No, they didn't. I had it looked over three time just to be sure. Their only terms were that wards be established," she ticked off the first item on her fingers, "that you were established at the Slytherin counselor, which we both know they had their own reasons for, and that we could only have two children per counselor. Not including Padma, of course, as she'll help Michael I'm sure."

"Yet it includes Leanne Smith, and Lisa Turpin, who are our age." Malfoy said. "Smith will be a problem for me."

Sighing, Hermione shrugged. "That sounds like your problem, Malfoy. As long as you don't curse, or hex her, I can't say I care. I'm sure that's exactly what the Wizengamot would want - for you to slip up, mucking up your probation so they could toss you into Azkaban." The with your father remained unsaid.

He'd heard it anyway, and his eyes were hard as he stared ahead at the two individuals sitting at a table. "If I didn't know any better, it would sound almost as if you were warning me on how to stay out of trouble."

She looked up at him, a foot shorter than him. "I didn't testify in your trial so you could throw away your freedom." She mumbled, and then hurried toward Michael and Hannah without another word.

Their trunks landed on the ground with a hard thud. Malfoy hung back, shoving his hands into his pockets while he looked around the camp. There were four cabins, each with Hogwarts houses carved painstakingly into a sign above the doors.

Michael enveloped her in a one armed hug, giving her a tight squeeze. The former member of Dumbledore's Army looked at Malfoy suspiciously, but what else could Hermione have expected? "It's nice to see you, Hermione." Michael said gruffly. "Malfoy."

The blond didn't say a word as he nodded in their direction.

"How is Cho?" Hermione asked, reaching out to hug Hannah. She'd never been close with the Hufflepuff, and she'd never had a reason considering Hannah believed some of the lies about Harry surrounding Cedric's death.

"Broke up after the Battle. She's home with her parents." Michael replied.

"Oh." Hermione muttered, red blossoming in her cheeks for even bringing it up, but it's not like she could have known. "It's good to see you, Hannah." She said softly.

Hannah's hair was tied in a lazy ponytail, and while she was still smiling to Hermione, her eyes kept darting toward Malfoy. "Hermione, I don't know if,"

She sighed. Clearly she needed to get this out of the way early. "Everyone should have a seat," she said loudly. "That includes you, Malfoy." Hermione added, taking a seat beside Corner, and pulling her notes from her bag. Having bound them together, the loose leaf paper she was so fond of hadn't been destroyed inside of her bag. Tapping her wand to the small square, she restored her notes to normal size. "I think we should talk about the...er, thestral in the room."

"Why the fuck would anyone decide Malfoy should be here?" Michael snapped, eyeing the blond angrily as he slid onto the very end of the bench, putting as much distance between him and Hannah. "Hermione, I don't understand how you could have ever allowed him to be here."

Tapping her fingers against the paper, her eyes narrowed. "How would you treat the Slytherins?" Hermione asked.

Michael spluttered. "I - what does that even mean? Just because they're in that house doesn't mean I would -"

She cleared her throat. "Don't lie to me. You'll find there's very little I don't know about any of you, and as you might recall, you ran into Ronald in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago? You had some terrible things to say about the house as a whole."

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever Ron told you,"

"I believe I just told you not to lie to me." Hermione snapped, dropping her ink pen to the paper. "It wasn't Ron that you came across. It was me under a Polyjuice Potion, so forgive me if I don't believe you could treat those two children fairly." She glared at Corner. "I don't think any of us are happy about Malfoy being here, Malfoy included."

The man across from her nodded. Hermione wasn't sure when she started thinking of him as a man, rather than a child, but she imagined the turning point must have been during his trial. "The last place I want to be this summer is with all of you, but I'm here." He muttered.

"I don't feel safe with him here." Hannah said quietly, clasping her hands in her lap. "I'm not sorry for that. You let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts." It was the first time in the conversation anyone had spoken to him directly.

"I know." Malfoy said, and for just once, if there could have been an ounce of remorse on his face, it would have solved several of Hermione's problems.

"How could you do that?" Hannah screamed, but she didn't move for her wand, or at all. "You ruined the lives of so many people, and for what?"

"Hannah -" Hermione tried to interrupt.

"Granger, shut up." Malfoy hissed. "Hufflepuff has every right to be angry. Instead of trying to play the mediator, why don't you let her get it out?"

"My name is Hannah!" She shouted.

Malfoy blinked. "You make the mistake that I honestly care."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, Hermione!" Michael groaned. "You can't seriously think this is a good idea,"

She'd had enough, and it was a mistake to grip her pen in her hand once more because she broke it in half. Droplets of blue ink landed on her notes, and she growled, vanishing the broken pen with little more than a tap of her wand. "I don't care." She bit out. Hermione's hand was stained with ink now, seeping into creases of her palm. "For better, or worse, Malfoy will be here the entire summer. If that's not something you believe you can handle, I suggest you tell me now so I can alert your replacements."

Michael shook his head. "I'm sorry, did you say replacements?"

Malfoy snorted loudly. "Did you think the swottiest Gryffindor of them all wouldn't have a backup plan?" He mused.

The Ravenclaw counselor glared at Malfoy before looking back at Hermione. "I'll be fine, but if he,"

Hermione shook her head. "There will be no fighting. If there is, you'll leave. It's a simple as that. This summer is more than putting up with someone you despise. There will be children who are young, and impressionable. Malfoy already knows what he's to do, and if he can accept that, I think the pair of you should be able to save face. Hannah, if you need to leave because you don't feel safe - I understand."

The girl looked incredibly uncomfortable, but she also looked like she wanted to draw her wand, and fire a stunner right into Malfoy's pointy features. "What's guaranteeing that he isn't going to let a Death Eater in here? He's done it before."

Malfoy sucked in a sharp breath before standing from the table, and walking away. Taking long strides across some ten meters, he wrenched open the door the the Slytherin cabins, the one that had Counselor scrawled over it. The door slamming shut scared the birds above them from their trees.

Hermione sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose between her fingers. "Hannah - I understand." She swallowed roughly. "I know this wasn't what you could have wanted, and if you decide to leave, I can't stop you. What I am asking you is to try to make this work." She finished, raking her fingers through her tangled curls. Her hair was matted down by her nap on the train.

Hannah looked scandalized. "How could you of all people ask me to do that? Doesn't it bother you that he's here? With the time you spent in Malfoy Manor? With the things he did?"

"Of course it bothers me." Hermione replied. "I think the war hurt us, Hannah, all of us - including the people that were on the other side."

"What the fuck?" Michael hissed, slamming his fist down on the table. "Are you defending him?"

"We are the faces that these kids will see everyday for the rest of this summer before they return to Hogwarts. Some of them can't sleep at night, some are wary of even coming here, and one girl has not spoken since the Carrows attacked her." Hermione said lowly, looking to the Slytherin cabin from the corner of her eye. "We need to be the example for them, and that includes getting along with Malfoy."

"He's a Death Eater," Michael told her. "I couldn't give a pygmy puff's arse if he wasn't thrown in Azkaban. He should have been subjected to the Dementor's Kiss like his fucking father."

Hermione's cheeks were red, flushed as Michael leaned forward to yell in her face. Merlin help Corner if Malfoy did hear him- as she was certain Malfoy would blow the Ravenclaw to fucking bits. "You're out of line." Hermione told him, her eyes narrowing, and her fingers gripping the ancient oak table tightly. "And to be completely clear, he was a Death Eater. His memories were ripped straight out of his head for the Wizengamot to see, and for me to see."

"It doesn't matter that he switched sides -"

"What would you do if Voldemort was living in your bloody house?" Hermione yelled, standing up and pressing her palms to the table. "I get it! Draco Malfoy was a prick, is a prick," she corrected smoothly without missing a beat, and unless he'd thrown up a silencing charm, he'd definitely heard her.

"He is a monster." Corner argued, standing, seemingly not willing to be sitting down while Granger tore into him. "The entire Wizarding World knows just who he is, and I would think you would know that too. If your ar -" Michael cut himself off abruptly, and it was the first time she'd seen a smidge of regret for his words on his face.

"Michael.." Hannah warned under her breath, leaning forward to brace her face in her hands. "We're supposed to be the ones who can get along." She whimpered.

Hermione's nostrils flared, and her fingers twitched to grab her wand. But no, as she'd just said they needed to be examples, and how could she hex the boy across from her without making herself out to be a hypocrite? "If my arm is what, Corner?"

"Well, if your arm is any indication of what his side was capable of, then you shouldn't be so keen to let the bastard in! You didn't attend Hogwarts last year, you don't -"

"I know every single last thing Malfoy did as the Head Boy last year. If he used an unforgivable, I know about it. If he made someone bloody cry, I know about it. You're right, Michael, I wasn't in Hogwarts last year. It's a miraculous thing that I wasn't because the Carrows would have killed me on the platform. No, I was fighting for my life, and gallivanting through the Scottish countryside while hunting horcruxes!"

"I know what a horcrux is." He grumbled, sensing the lesson that was already coming.

Hermione gnashed her teeth together, a horrible grinding sound on the inside of her mouth. "Right, you want to talk about my arm, don't you?" She asked sarcastically, plucking her wand from her pocket, vanishing the glamour.

MUDBLOOD.

It had already scarred, light pink, waxy skin that was raised in comparison to the rest of her arm. "I think you must be under some illusion that Draco Malfoy did this to me. It was Bellatrix Lestrange who tortured me, who grabbed a cursed knife from the kitchens, and then carved into my arm. Make no mistake, I know exactly who the monsters are."

"You could fight for him to leave. If anyone could make it happen, it would be you." Hannah protested weakly. "I don't understand why you're defending him, Hermione."

Hermione glanced at her. The girl looked as if she were on the verge of tears, and really, Hermione couldn't blame her a bit. Not when Malfoy had done horrible things the year before. "I know the two of you must think that only the good guys deserve to have a good life. The world was never made up of good guys and Death Eaters - if Malfoy had done anything Voldemort disapproved of, he would have died, or it would have been his parents."

Michael laughed pitifully. "So you expect us to forgive Malfoy because he was just trying to save his own skin? His mother's? Look how well that turned out."

Her wand was on him in a millisecond. "I will let it be known that if Malfoy hexes you because you mentioned Narcissa Malfoy, that I'm not going to stop him. His mother is off limits. Would you have done anything different? Family was everything to someone like Malfoy!"

"I couldn't give less of a shit."

"So you've mentioned," Hermione said dryly. "Draco Malfoy deserves to fix his life as much as any of us do."

Michael rolled his eyes. "This is pathetic. He deserves -"

Her wand sparked, and her lips thinned in anger. "I'll hex you into the next century if you finish that sentence."

"So Malfoy stays then." Hannah commented. Hermione nodded. "I'll stay, if only out of stubborness. I think the real problem is going to be Leanne Smith."

Michael smirked. "Some of us aren't so quick to defend traitors. Maybe they need to revoke your Order of Merlin, Granger."

"Stupefy!" Hermione Granger was decidedly in a mood as Michael blinked when he landed against the ground so roughly. "Are you staying, or leaving?"

He mumbled that he would stay.

I hope to see you again in a week with another update! If you'd like to smash that button and so kindly tell me what you think, that's great! Or if you see me in the groups on Facebook when I post this aesthetic. I'm heading to bed now. :)