Author's Note: Hey, guys! New chapter. This one was difficult to write, but I'm pleased with the result.

Chapter 12: Student

Hermione did her best to quash whatever doubts were hovering in the pit of her stomach. She hadn't been back to Hogwarts since Ron had died. She'd been there some of the early days of clean up after the Battle, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to come back since she'd lost Ron.

One mercy was that McGonagall had arranged for her to be able to Floo directly into her office. She threw a pinch of powder, breathed deeply, spoke clearly, and stepped into the fireplace.

She stepped out into the Headmistress's office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was strange, to see two more portraits on the wall than there had been when Hermione was in school, but there they were, with Dumbledore and Snape both pretending to snooze their frames. She didn't doubt for a moment that either of them was truly awake, but she couldn't think of anything to say.

"You're looking well, Ms. Granger," a familiar voice said crisply.

"Thank you, Pr—er, Headmistress."

"Ms. Granger, I believe, after all this time, you could call me Minerva."

Hermione tried the word out on her lips. "Minerva." She nodded. "Minerva then. And I'm Hermione."

Minerva's pursed her lips, looking her former student over appraisingly. The girl looked tired, but not exhausted. Worn out, but not worn through. It was as much as could be hoped for. She was perhaps a little thinner than she had been, but there was no sign of malnourishment. "Hermione then," she agreed. "Won't you have a seat?" Hermione took one of the chairs in front of the large desk and McGonagall sat behind it. "I wanted to to thank you again, for writing that letter to Damocles Belby for me. I haven't heard back yet, but I was thinking I might not hear from him until I've passed my NEWT in potions. That would be fairly reasonable. I know they're usually given at the end of term, but is there any way I might be able to take them in September?"

"I'm sure we could arrange something with the Ministry, and have one of the examiners make a trip."

"Thank you, Pr—Minerva," Hermione said.

They sat in silence for a moment.

"How are your studies progressing? Is there anything I can do to assist you?"

"Slowly but surely. I believe I've always possessed an aptitude for potions. It's just never had much of a chance to shine." She almost thought, out of the corner of her eye, that Severus Snape's portrait might possibly have twitched.

"Well, if you would like assistance with any of your studies, I would be more than happy to have you here. I'm sure we could find space for you in whatever capacity would care to fill." She frowned just slightly at the final portrait on the wall.

Hermione considered her words carefully. "I don't believe I would like to come back here as a student, though part of me would still like to finish my studies. If I have the time once I start my apprenticeship, part of me would like to continue studying the other subjects I would have taken in my final year, and perhaps take those NEWTs this summer."

"I believe we could make arrangements for that."

"At this time, I also don't think…I don't think I want to come back here in a teaching capacity."

McGonagall inclined her head. "That is your decision."

Another silence fell between them, and they both began to speak at the same time, "Have you seen Mr. Potter?" McGonagall asked, just as Hermione voiced, "Have you heard from Harry?"

Neither of them had.

"Another of your classmates is here, who you may want to see."

Hermione tried to hide the uncomfortable look that flitted across her face. "I'm really not sure I'm up for seeing anyone else."

"May I be frank, Hermione?"

After a moment's pause, Hermione said, "Of course you may. I've always valued your opinion."

"You came here today to discuss your career ambitions—I admire your reasons for wanting to apprentice yourself to a potions master, and your longterm goals in using your knowledge to help others. I do believe that those goals would be best served by finishing out your final year here, though I can most certainly understand your reasons for not wanting to. Currently however, I am not worried about your career. I am worried about you. If you value my opinion at all, please take my advice, and go see the person waiting for you in the hallway."

Hermione let out a breath and it was like a fist that had been clenched around her chest released. She belonged in the wizarding world. She was here at Hogwarts and hadn't fallen to pieces yet, thinking about Ron or Harry. She could manage a few minutes more. "If you think, I should, I will." She thanked McGonagall for her advice and proceeded toward the door instead of the fireplace. As she reached the door at the top of the stairs, she turned back. "You will keep an eye on Ginny this year, won't you?"

"I will watch Ms. Weasley as though she were my own. She is my own—she's a Gryffindor."

Hermione felt a little better just for hearing the words and descended down the stair and passed the gargoyle. She found Neville waiting a few feet away.

"Hi, Hermione," he said, standing against the wall, tall, with a smear of dirt across his cheek. "It's good to see you."

She couldn't help a little bit of a smile and she flung her arms around him in a hug. It felt good to hug someone, and he hugged her back tightly. "It's good to see you too, Neville. What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, and grinned a bit awkwardly as they pulled away. "I wasn't really sure what I wanted to do after…everything. Well, I guess I am sure. I want to make this place better. I've been helping with the rebuilding. Professor Sprout is still recovering from some of her injuries from the Battle. I'm going to help out with her classes this year. McGonagall talked about making me Head of Gryffindor." He glanced up the stairs. "I'm still not sure if she was joking."

"I'm glad, Neville." It was still striking to see some of the changes of the last year in him—there was more of an edge to him—but he was still very much Neville Longbottom. "Has it been strange, being back?"

"I think it'll be more telling when the students get here. Some people from our year will be joining the seventh years. And a lot of folks didn't let the kids start or finish last year because of Snape and the Carrows. So I think some people might be moved up or down a year, or need a little help. It'll…be telling." He swallowed. "A lot more of them will be able to see the Threstals this year. The new patches on the building aren't what they were, but we've tried to make it right."

Without even realizing that her feet were carrying her away, Neville and Hermione ventured through the deserted corridors.

She could see signs of the violence the school had encountered not so long before, but also signs of rebuilding and repair. The violence wasn't being erased, but it was being healed. There would be scars, but Hogwarts would be whole. Hermione walked with Neville longer than she would have expected, and even found herself hungry by the time she'd made it out the Great Hall and toured the greenhouses with him. Hermione breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of grass. It was like coming home in some ways, after all her months in London.

With her back resting against the glass of greenhouse three, Hermione asked, "Do you ever wish, sometimes, that we might have had a real seventh year?"

For the first time that day, Neville hesitated. "It was what it was…and it made us who we are. I wish Dumbledore hadn't died…that there hadn't been a year with Snape and the Carrows. But all that's up to us is to do what we can where we are with what we have. The last couple of years have been hard," he gave a ghost of a laugh at the understatement, "but I rose to the challenge and I know who I am." He shrugged, and there was a shadow of the shy 11 year old in that almost appeared in his face, but for the most part, his features remained those of the man he'd grown into: able to do what needed doing, taking care of everyone else, and willing to fight for what he believed in, no matter how big the opposing army.

Hermione hugged him hard. "Never change, Neville."

By the time Hermione had worked her way back to McGonagall's office to Floo home, she and Neville had visited all of the greenhouses, and stopped at the kitchen for a bite of something. McGonagall had been right. Visiting Hogwarts was something she needed to do. And…if she couldn't be here to see the healing with Ron…and Harry…well, Neville had been the person she needed today. She couldn't ask for more than that. It was good to see people moving forward.

The first of September had always felt like a day of beginnings. Or, at least it had most of the last seven years. Hermione chose that day to post her letter to Damocles Belby. She gave it over to Draco for a final reading.

"What do you think?"

Draco read it through twice and handed it back. "Couldn't have said it better myself. He's an idiot if he doesn't take you on. Will you be able to get through the rest of the material by the deadline you set?"

"Yes, I'll manage," Hermione said, taking the letter back and sealing it in an envelope.

"What made you choose the 19th to sit your NEWT? You could have given yourself 'til the end of the month? Or any day you chose. It's not like you're on anyone else's timeline. "

Hermione shrugged, not looking up as she attached the letter to Athena's leg and brought her to the window. "It's my birthday. It seemed like as good a place to start as any."

He nodded, brushing a few strands of hair from his eyes. He was tired still from his shift the night before, but he had today off. He swore that people spilled things on him on purpose, but he couldn't prove it. He stood and joined her at the window, watching the owl grow smaller as it flew towards the horizon.

"Thanks for coming over to read that. I really wanted another set of eyes on it before I sent it off," she said, after a moment.

"It wasn't any trouble."

There was a quiet moment as they stood there at the window, listening to the sounds of London below. Car horns blared, people shouted, brakes screeched. Life went on at a steady pace.

"I suppose now that I've gone and sent it, I ought to get back to studying." She looked ruefully at the stack of books in front of her. It was going to be something of a breakneck pace to get through the rest of the material before the 19th. She'd manage. Somehow.

Draco glanced at the pile of books on her table, stacked neat and orderly, with notes beside them. "The Ministry's minions came by this morning to check on me, make sure I hadn't set fire to myself in the kitchen or anything." He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "The flat still smells like the cologne the particularly overbearing one was wearing. Or it did when I came over here. I'm not quite up for going back in there. They looked through everything." He shuddered. He did not appreciate having his things pawed. Caffrey and Burke had hardly seemed to believe their own eyes at seeing him living a perfectly ordinary Muggle existence. They'd been sure he must be hiding something, and were not subtle about insinuating it. He'd spent their visit watching them investigate his flat with a look of disdain on his face, and answered their questions in as few words as possible, hoping to hurry them out. "They've given me this month's…allowance. We could go get something to eat. Those books will still be here when you get back."

The brunette didn't have to consider long before grabbing her handbag and agreeing to go. Today, the walls of the flat felt like they were closing in on her. It would do her good to get out for a bit. Maybe after they ate, she'd introduce him to a cinema.

Draco strolled through the shelves at the library. Well, stroll wasn't really the right word. He was lurking, if he had to admit it to himself. But he didn't have to admit it, so he convinced himself he was strolling. It was his choice to repeatedly browse the same shelf.

At last, the man who'd been seated at the desk with the com…computer got up and left. Draco darted into the man's still warm chair. Granger was spending 16 hours a day studying potions, and this was his third time down at the library the past week. He was determined that he was going to get on the computer. He just had to wait for someone to leave.

Now that he was sitting at it, he wasn't sure what to do with it. He pushed rounded controller around on the desk and found an arrow moving on the screen. Nothing much seemed to happen except that he could move the arrow around.

He was about ready to give up when the gray haired librarian wandered passed. He attempted to look like he knew what he was doing, staring straight ahead at the screen.

She looked down at him disapprovingly. "If you don't know how to use it, you ought to sign up for our classes. Theresa holds them twice a week. Move along and give someone else a go." With a final look at him, she moved on.

Draco frowned. How presumptuous of that old goat to assume he didn't know he didn't know what he was doing. He moved the controller around on the desk some more and watched the arrow move across the screen, but nothing else seemed to happen. He tried pressing his fingers on the board with the letters on it, but none of the letters appeared on the screen anywhere. Clearly he was missing a critical step.

He lifted the controller and inspected it. The underside seemed to have a ball. He ran his finger along it and watched the arrow move. Investigating the controller further, he found a button along the top. He could hear it click, but didn't seem to see any response on the screen.

For a moment, he set the controller back down and moved it over the desk, clicking it occasionally. Nothing seemed to happen at first, and then suddenly, the screen changed. Words popped up along the top reading: Welcome to Internet Explorer. "What?" he asked himself softly, frowning at the screen.

A shadow appeared across his screen. "I teach a class, Tuesdays and Thursdays at ten. There's a spot open tomorrow."

Draco looked up and found a pretty, auburn haired woman beside him. He raised an eyebrow. "What do you cover?"

There was a slight smile to her lips. "Everything from how to turn on the machine, to setting up your email, and creating documents."

A short while later, Draco found himself leaving the library with the intention of returning the next morning to learn how to use a computer. So far, he'd learned that the controller he'd been having difficulty with was called a mouse. And the board with the letters was a keyboard.

Draco put on a fresh shirt and slacks, and sat down to his buttered toast and tea. He did the dishes before setting out for the library. He used the walk to wonder what exactly someone could do with a computer.

He entered the library, and at directions from the front desk, went to a room in the basement that he hadn't been to before. There were half a dozen computers set up in a row in the little room. Two people were already seated at the computers, and Theresa was standing at the front of the room talking to a third.

"Take a seat, and we'll begin shortly."

Draco choose a seat at the end and waited until the last two seats were filled. He glanced around at his…classmates. There was an elderly gentleman, and two middle aged women, as well as a young woman and her child of no more than about seven. Of course there was. He frowned at the screen on his machine. It was dark.

"Now that everyone is here, I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Theresa. We're going to cover introduction to using a computer today. If you'll notice, on the desk you have a monitor, a keyboard, and a mouse. On the floor, to the left of your feet, is the tower. The tower is the actual working part of the machine that does all of the thinking. The monitor is only responsible for displaying what the tower is doing. Both the tower and the monitor need to be powered on. Go ahead now and hit the power button on the tower, located here," she held up a picture, "and then the corresponding button on the monitor."

Draco found the buttons and pressed them, and waited. After what seemed like an eternity, an image appeared in the center of his screen. And he waited…again.

Eventually, Draco's computer (as well as everyone else's) made it to the screen he'd seen yesterday on the computer in the main library. He rolled his eyes when the elderly man turned off his monitor when he thought it wasn't starting quickly enough.

"This is your desktop. You'll notice, there isn't much on it. That's okay. Down in the bottom left corner here, you have your Start menu, and you can choose a program."

Draco listened intently as she advised them on how to use the mouse, and started listing what some of the different programs did. He grew bored when the two middle aged women asked Theresa to repeat it all again so they could take notes.

Theresa led them all through a series of exercises, showing them how to restart the machine, open and edit text documents, and save files. The two women who seemed to be there together took detailed notes. The woman with the child anxiously asked the others if she could borrow them later. The elderly man frequently required repetition for things he didn't quite here. Draco's frustration increased with the slow pace. He began opening files on his machine, and soon had a pile of open windows. Salazar's forked tongue. How had she said to close them?

He didn't get them closed before she appeared over his shoulder, patiently showing him two different ways to close them out.

"That will be all for today. Go ahead and shut down your computers. That's right—go to the Start menu, choose…very good, Mr. Willis. Now, on Thursday, we'll cover using discs, and accessing the internet, via Internet Explorer."

The others in the room gathered up their things and meandered out. Draco shut down his computer and stood slowly.

"Do you have any questions?" Theresa asked, noting that the young blonde was still in the room. She was gathering up her posters and making sure they were in the correct order for her next class.

He frowned, wondering how to phrase what he wanted to know without looking entirely incompetent. "What do you use computers for?"

She blinked. "Well, they can really be used for just about anything, and their potential is only growing. I'm working on shifting our catalogue of books from index cards to a computer system. It will make it much easier to find things. You can create documents, and update them. You can send messages to people over long distances. There are also games, and encyclopedias. Right now, a copy of Brittanica is 26 volumes long and takes up 3 shelves. You could have the whole thing on one CD if you had a mind. Or, maybe 2 or 3. But at any rate, it would be much more compact."

He decided not to ask what Brittanica was, and to simply nod. "It sounds very useful." He'd just have to explore more on his own.

"It really is. They're just so expensive right now. Please, do come to my next class, and you'll see a lot more of what they can do." She smiled at him, a little contritely. "I know things were a bit slow today, but we have a lot of people signing up for this class who are re-entering the work force and want to reeducate themselves since technology has changed so much since they were in school. You'll just have to bear with them."

Draco nodded, undecided about whether he'd be back on Thursday or not. Probably. Maybe.