CW: Discussions of past trauma.

I dedicate this absolute emotional rollercoaster to m00dymalfoy. She is currently writing Congruent (which you should absolutely go read) and she is an absolute angel. Despite all of the stress in her life (homegirl is a nurse and just got a house), she is constantly around to support me and everyone else. Even though she's scarred me for life with her Shrek smut, I still love her. This one is for you and your love of Blaise Zabini.

Betawork done by december_noon, Kindajew/datingstilinski1967, rosenymphadoraweasley5, and crookshankscrew.

Thanks for being here folks.

peace and love,

sam

Draco followed her to the alcove right outside the common room entrance. After the confrontation with Astoria, she'd briefly huddled with Pans and Daph but he'd seen her sneak out.

He'd been trying to apologize for a while now and she kept putting him off. It seemed more important to do it tonight. Astoria had dragged all the dark, ugly moments of their past into the light. She'd provided the reminder that they weren't always congenial study partners who spent quiet nights in the library trading quills and witty banter.

After all the firewhisky he'd consumed, he'd hatched a plan that forced him to be vulnerable with her first so she could see that he had to apologize.

Because they both knew what it was like to want to see the regret and remorse in someone's eyes.

She was tracing the letters on her arm while she sat cross-legged on the floor. Her head was tilted back and her eyes were closed. How many times had Granger run her hands over her scar to be able to trace it without seeing it?

"May I join you, or is this alcove privately booked?" She didn't open her eyes but the corners of her mouth turned up slightly.

"No. By all means. Join the exclusive party."

He sank down next to her close enough that their shoulders were touching. He leaned his head back and turned it slightly to look at her. Even sitting he was taller than her.

"Am I allowed to apologize now?"

"Malfoy…"

"No. Just listen for a second." He swallowed hard. "I want to tell you a story first. Because I think you need to understand I'm not doing this to check an item off my Redemption To-Do List. I'm doing this because I mean it and I want—I need you to know that. Agreed?"

She finally opened her eyes and looked at him. The silence stretched out and then she bobbed her head.

"Once upon a time, there was a pompous little prick who grew up wealthy, Pureblooded, and prejudiced. His parents had their beliefs and no one had really challenged them so they raised their son to believe he was better than everyone. He was special. They would all learn the hard way that none of them were special. They would learn how very wrong they'd all been." Draco took a swig of his drink.

"One day, a supposedly powerful madman returned and demanded the family serve him as they always had. The boy watched as his father was broken by this Dark wizard. The boy watched as his mother learned to hide in her own home. The boy watched as his parents began to fear a force they didn't know how to stop.

"The boy had been asked to do something for the wizard. In exchange for his agreement, his father would be released from Azkaban and the wizard wouldn't brutally murder his parents in front of him. The boy agreed. What a mistake he'd made. Murder was off the table, but torture wasn't." He heard Granger shifting to his left, but he couldn't look at her for this next part. He faced the ceiling and shut his eyes. It was a risky move.

He'd probably have nightmares tonight. The images of the ceremony played against his lids and even his Occlumency couldn't help him now.

"It was time for the boy to be Marked, but the boy didn't want it. He'd seen how that Mark had turned his father into a shell of a man and he wanted better for himself. His choice was not important. No. That evening, the Death Eaters had been summoned."

"Malfoy, you don't have to…"

He swallowed again and opened his eyes. The second he locked onto her gaze, he couldn't tear himself away. "Yeah, I do. Very few people know this story and… I think you deserve to know. We both know what it's like to receive a mark you didn't want."

She held her left arm close to her abdomen. He rolled up his sleeve to showcase the faded Dark Mark he'd been branded with. Sometimes, when the nightmares were particularly vivid, he'd wake up and feel the phantom pain of the Mark burning. Draco would stare at the skull and snake that marred his skin and swear that he saw it move in the dead of night.

He was being haunted by a long-dead madman and the ghosts of fucked up choices.

"I was dragged into that room by Bella. My parents were in the middle of the circle waiting for me. I tried to be strong, but I just… I couldn't hide how much I didn't want it. My father used what remaining strength he had to force me to the ground. The second I started struggling, he just held me down. All his weight on top of me and forcing my arm to stay flat. My mother—" his voice cracked. He cleared his throat to alleviate some of the pressure.

"My mother held my head and tried to use Legilimency to calm me. I was so proficient at Occlumency at that point though that she couldn't get in. Her forcing her way in only made the pain worse. Not that anyone would know. I was practically biting my own hand to stifle the screams."

He looked up to see her crying. Crying for him.

"Can you imagine? The two people in the world I loved more than anything. The man I emulated and admired. The woman I'd have died to protect. The two people who were my sole motivation for agreeing to the stupid task in the first place. My parents who are supposed to love and protect me… They held me down while I got branded into service to the Dark Lord."

"Malfoy, I'm so—"

"Don't. Don't apologize for something you had no part in," he cut her off, his voice suddenly firm and steady. "That's my point though. They still haven't apologized for that night. I can't move on until they do. So… I need to apologize for all the hurt I've caused you. I won't list all my infractions as I'm sure you have plans over the next few days… but I was awful to you. I wished you dead. I called you slurs. I let Death Eaters into the castle. I did that." He jabbed his finger into his chest and focused on the pain of that motion. He needed to keep going.

"I'm so deeply sorry. I'm sorry for my part in all of it. I'm sorry for making you feel like you were less than. I'm sorry for everything." He cleared his throat. "I'm especially sorry for not intervening at the Manor. I could've stopped you from getting a mark you didn't want. I could've saved you from that pain and… I did absolutely nothing. I'm sorry that you have to live with that reminder because of me."

Granger stared and then launched herself at him. Thank Merlin for Seeker reflexes that enabled him to catch her and keep them both upright.

It took him too long to realise she was hugging him. She was crying for him and hugging him.

"You're forgiven. For all of it," she whispered into his neck.

"Friends, then?" He tried not to sound too hopeful.

"Friends. Good luck getting rid of me now, Malfoy. I have a habit of collecting broken things."

After the party, Hermione had retreated even further from public outings. She wasn't alone, though. The Slytherins—which now included Blaise—ramped up their presence in her life. Hermione was truly never alone now that there was a concrete threat in Astoria.

Theo still had concerns about Ron, who had been suspiciously tame in recent weeks. The ginger wizard was still taunting Hermione with his presence, but he hadn't cornered her. Most importantly, there had been no Ron-Weasley-induced panic attacks lately.

Then there was Malfoy.

It felt strange to still call him Malfoy when she called everyone else by their first names. They were officially friends now. Should she start calling him Draco? Maybe she'd wait for him to cross that line.

She was so deep in thought about the change in her relationships that she didn't notice the figure walking directly in her path in the Great Hall.

As was becoming a pattern, she collided with a tall body and felt hands on her hips. She half-expected Malfoy to be in front of her, but the dark skin and mischievous brown eyes belonged to a very different wizard. In hindsight, she should have realized Malfoy was more respectful in his hand placement. More gentle, too.

"Granger," Blaise eyed her from head to toe and back again. "Falling for me already?"

"I—um, no—what—sorry," Hermione stuttered out. Blaise kept staring into her eyes and his grip tightened on her hips. A flash of blond hair caught her vision as Malfoy rose from the Slytherin table with a clenched jaw.

"And now I've rendered you speechless? This is really a very good day for me." Blaise cocked an eyebrow and tugged slightly causing her to tumble into him. The move was so reminiscent of what Malfoy had done at the party. But it was wrong. Too presumptuous. Too rough.

"Hermione," a familiar voice sounded from behind her. "You alright?"

Hermione looked over her shoulder to meet the green eyes of her best friend. Harry was, unfortunately, not alone. Ron, Ginny, Lavender, Neville, and Dean were filing in behind him. As thankful as she was for a reprieve from this situation, she didn't really want this large of an audience.

"Um…yeah. I'm fine. Just clumsy." Blaise finally released her and bobbed his head at the group before he departed.

"Granger. See you around," he called over his shoulder.

"What was that?" Ginny asked, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity. Not the disdain or judgement she had expected to hear.

"That was Blaise being…well, Blaise." Hermione shrugged.

"Looked like flirting from here," Ginny quipped while raising an eyebrow.

"Like I said, Blaise being Blaise." Hermione glanced back at the Slytherin table and saw Theo watching her intently. She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile and walked over to her Gryffindor friends.

"Adding more snakes to your collection, are you?" Ron accused. Hermione glanced at his hands out of habit and—just as she expected—his fists were clenched tight. The veins and tendons in his arms popping out from the strain.

"I'm—"

"You have been getting very close to them, Hermione," Harry cut her off. His tone wasn't as accusatory as Ron's, but the sentiment was there. It was confirmation of her worst fear. Harry wouldn't choose her over Ron.

"Well, I—"

This time, Ginny interrupted her. "Are you wearing make-up? Who did your hair?"

"I told you. Pansy offered to help me out if I ever wanted it. I decided I wanted to take her up on it," Hermione tried to defend herself, but it came out more pleading than she wanted. She didn't miss the look of hurt on Ginny's face. She'd always wanted to give Hermione a makeover but Hermione always declined. Letting Pansy Parkinson, a girl who had spit insults into her face, have that honour clearly wounded Ginny.

"Are we not good enough for you, now? Built yourself a collection of rich Slytherins and you just toss us aside?" Ron fumed.

"No! That's not—I'm just trying to make this term work. They've been nice—"

"Nice? They're fucking criminals, Hermione. They wanted to see people like you dead," Ron advanced on her. He reached out to grab both of her shoulders tightly. "They wanted you dead."

To anyone else, it looked like a friend trying to shake some sense into her. Hermione knew that he was looking for any way to hurt her, but he couldn't be so direct in public. She'd have little bruises on her shoulders from his fingers and the angry glint in his eye was enough to bring her to tears.

"To be fair, I never wanted Granger dead," an aristocratic voice said from behind her. She looked back and met another pair of green eyes. Theo.

Ron promptly released her and shoved her behind him. Another performative gesture. He wasn't trying to protect her, he was hoping she'd lose her balance and gather more bruises from the fall.

Harry caught her arm, though. And once she was stable, she gave him an apologetic look and edged her way around Ron to stand behind Theo.

The gesture was a declaration of Hermione's change in allegiance. If they wouldn't listen to her, she'd go to people who already had. People who defended her. People who knew her dark secrets and didn't make her feel broken or ashamed.

It was a simple move, but she might as well have stood on the Gryffindor table and told them all to fuck off.

The hurt radiating from Harry and Ginny almost pulled her back. Dean and Neville just looked shocked and confused about the events unfolding in front of them. Lavender wasn't looking at anyone or moving in any capacity.

Hermione wanted to grab her hand and tell her to get out while she could. Tell her that she could join her club with Theo. They'd share stories, cry, and heal. But Hermione was still trying to fix herself and she couldn't make two public scenes in the same morning.

"Granger, shall we?" Theo asked without taking his eyes off Ron. They turned and walked back toward the Slytherin table. Hermione didn't imagine the whispers and looks that followed her. The Golden Trio had just had a very public fight.

Hermione had just very openly chosen a Slytherin and child of a Death Eater over the Chosen One.

The Hogwarts gossip mill was nothing if not efficient and this would be all over the castle by the time class started today.

Hermione settled in between Malfoy and Theo at the table. Malfoy placed a cup of tea in front of her as she filled her plate with a croissant and eggs. It was a weird bit of routine that had just started. Malfoy always made her tea exactly to her liking. She liked a more bitter taste to her tea at breakfast. Just a splash of milk and one sugar. She'd drink it sweeter throughout the day, but the bitterness helped wake her up in the morning. Occasionally, he'd smuggle in one of her favorite teas instead of the standard Earl Grey or English Breakfast served to the school.

It was always the days after she was plagued with nightmares.

"What was that over there?" Pansy asked, jolting Hermione back to the Slytherin table.

"Which part? Blaise coming onto me, the fight with my friends, or the part where I walked away and gave Rita Skeeter a new story?" Hermione replied, ticking off each option on her fingers.

"The part where Weaselby got in your face," Malfoy added through clenched teeth.

Hermione and Theo shared a look. So far, Hermione hadn't told anyone else about Ron. Theo had often said Malfoy was observant and had probably guessed. Pansy and Daphne had very graciously let her talk about bits and pieces of her past at her own pace. She hadn't yet made it to Ron as they were still working through Astoria's comment about her scar.

She'd even shown the women her arm. Daphne had offered to personally hex her sister for threatening Hermione after seeing the angry red letters. Pansy had just immediately started researching charms, potions, and salves to make the scar less noticeable so Hermione could have the option of going sleeveless again.

Hermione was certain some of the ingredients were illegal, but Pansy would not be swayed.

"Ron is… very physical. It happens," Hermione explained. A light jab into her side from Theo told her to stop making excuses. "I don't enjoy it, though. I'm sure someone will tell him off when they all calm down."

"I don't like it," Malfoy asserted. "I've never liked the way he treated you. The way he talks to you. I was a prick to you all the time, but we weren't friends. Friends aren't supposed to make you cry or treat you like filth under their boots."

Hermione nodded, avoiding his eyes. That's all she could manage at the moment.

Oh, if you only knew, she thought.

Fortunately, Daphne appeared to alleviate the tension. There was more gossip from the Slytherin Quidditch team that made the boys roll their eyes, while Hermione was just glad for rumors that weren't about her.

Hermione and Malfoy's library sessions had become more crowded on some days. It appeared that their friends were trying to find the balance between giving them time to actually study and pestering them.

Tonight, the conversation had centered around the Exchange Program. They were trying to keep it light and discuss the more amusing assignments.

Like Seamus in Ravenclaw.

Theo was still a Prefect and he had supposedly stumbled upon the Irish wizard arguing with the Ravenclaw guardian. As Theo tells the story, Seamus was berating the door knocker with insults in English and Gaelic for not letting him in his common room.

"I don't know where vanished objects go. I just want into my bloody room!" Seamus had yelled. Theo's impression of Seamus was borderline offensive to the entire nation of Ireland. He sounded more like a cartoon Leprechaun.

Theo had barely made it through the story of how he answered the riddle for him before he erupted into giggles. The rest of the group wasn't much better.

"I got him a book of riddles!" Hermione insisted. "That one is in that book! He really has no excuse."

"I just don't understand the rationale behind some of the choices," Daphne wondered. All eyes drifted toward Hermione as they all pondered the real conundrum of her in Slytherin. Theo jumped in to release the growing tension.

"Well, we all knew Blaise would be thrilled to go somewhere else," he declared. "He's fucked his way through all of Slytherin at this point—"

"Most of Slytherin," Blaise interrupted. "There are certain individuals who refuse to crack." He cast a pointed glance at Malfoy, Theo, and Pansy on the other side of the table.

"Don't look at me," Malfoy drawled without looking up from his Ancient Runes notes. "You're not my type."

"What is your type?" Blaise questioned suspiciously.

He briefly glanced up to meet Hermione's gaze. "Witches."

Blaise appeared to weigh Malfoy's answer. Perhaps searching for some past anecdote to push Malfoy over the edge. He turned a narrowed gaze to Theo instead of pushing it further. "Theo…what's your excuse?"

"I've seen you naked many times. I'm not that impressed." Theo responded flatly. Then he turned to his left with a lascivious look. "Draco on the other hand…"

"I have an idea," Malfoy nearly yelled as he threw his quill down, "How about we stop sexualizing Draco?"

Blaise ignored him which prompted the blond wizard to throw his hands in the air in defeat. "Pansy doesn't need to explain. I'm not damaged enough for her tastes."

Pansy just tilted her head as if she was considering his assessment, before finally shrugging.

Genuinely curious, Hermione decided to ask about the remaining members of the group. "And Daphne?"

"Oh, been there. Done that," Blaise said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Daphne is lovely but—for the sake of the friend group—we decided that two astonishingly attractive people such as ourselves couldn't be in a relationship. It would cause too much chaos and unabashed jealousy."

Pansy scoffed and leaned over the table to stage whisper to Hermione. "That's code for Blaise wanted to move on and Daphne wanted her first time not to be inadequate so she went to the Slytherin Slag."

The nickname prompted very undignified snorts from the boys. Daphne merely nodded her agreement and sent Blaise a wink.

Blaise looked offended and Hermione prepared herself for an oncoming fight. "You need better nicknames." He pointed an accusatory finger at the raven-haired witch. "I liked Italian Stallion much better."

Hermione finally—easily—joined in the boisterous laughter from around the table.

Life as Granger's friend really wasn't that much different. The awkwardness was still there, but that was his fault. Draco couldn't help the unabashed honesty that poured from him around her. Granger never judged him for it though.

Playfully mocked him? Yes.

Draco had started to sit across from her at the library. Granger had even let him look at her precious notes—admittedly, they were her "messy, first draft notes," but they were still more detailed than his. Friendship with her was easy. It was nice.

Their friendship was different from any other one he'd ever had. Crabbe and Goyle had been protection at best. After Vincent's death, he'd distanced himself even more from Greg. Blaise and Theo were around to keep his ego in check. Wizards who knew Slytherins and the snobbery of Pureblood society. Pansy and Daphne had once been potential marriage options, but now… he'd rather fling himself into the Black Lake and take up with the Giant Squid than marry either of them.

All his friendships had been about status or appearances before the war. During the war, it was a matter of survival. He wanted someone to care about him. It was a similar need after the war. They all needed to heal and lean on someone else. So they formed their little club of outcasts and parolees.

Granger was a light in the darkness. He needed her around to remind him that good, pure people cared about him, too. But this need was different. She didn't know how much he needed her. Maybe, if he'd been more like his father, he'd use her as a status symbol. A friendship with the Brightest Witch of Her Age could pull him back into society's good graces.

But Draco didn't want that. He didn't need the approval of the Wizarding World.

Not when he had her forgiveness. Her friendship. Her kindness.

His friends started encroaching on their time together, though. And Blaise was pushing his patience.

Blaise had started openly flirting with Granger in his presence. He'd purposely ran into her in the Great Hall just to touch her. He sat next to her in the library and slung an arm across the back of her chair. He offered to carry her books back to the shelves.

It was pissing Draco off how much attention Blaise was paying Granger after he had explicitly told him to stay away from her. Granger was better than some common conquest for Blaise to collect.

His frustration wasn't limited to his friends, though. The Gryffindors either completely ignored Granger or tried to convince her of the evils of Slytherin House after the Great Hall incident. Potter and female Weasley were hovering and trying to get her to "be herself again." Granger just asserted that she was fine and there was nothing that she needed to change. Though they were still watching her carefully, those two had dropped the subject after that.

The Weasel had not.

He'd grown bolder in his insults. He'd openly call Granger a traitor. Told her she didn't deserve her Order of Merlin after associating with criminals. He'd even written home and Granger had received a harsh letter from Molly Weasley telling her that she'd expected more and was sorely disappointed. Draco suspected that the letter said more than that, but Granger had shoved it in her bag before rushing from the Great Hall.

The words weren't the worst though. It was the physical proximity to Granger. He'd tower over her. Man-handle her in hallways. His grip always looked too tight, but Granger's only reaction was to scurry away as quickly as possible.

Typically, she scurried in Theo's direction.

After that night that Theo had disappeared with the girls, Theo told him that Granger needed all of their support. That they should walk with her to classes. Theo had seemed shaken and exhausted when he came back. Draco's suspicion about Granger's past had ramped up then.

Theo had very few secrets and if any of them had bonded him with Granger…

His musings were interrupted by Blaise sauntering over to where he was reclining in the courtyard with Theo. They had a free period and the girls had decided to drop off their bags in the dorm before they came out to enjoy the last of the warm Autumn sun.

"Well aren't you two precious," Blaise cooed. "All laid out together basking in the sun."

"Piss off. I'm trying to nap," Theo mumbled as he threw an arm over his eyes.

"Draco, is it safe for you to be in this much direct sunlight? Won't you burst into flames?"

"Har har, you are hilarious," Draco deadpanned. Blaise settled in next to Draco and loosened his tie. Maybe Draco could get some of his frustration out, now. "Does Granger laugh at your asinine jokes?"

"Is someone jealous?" Blaise said in mock surprise.

"I told you that she was off-limits. She is not someone you shag and split from," Draco said tersely. He heaved a heavy sigh, "She deserves so much more than that."

"Maybe, I'm a changed man. Maybe… Granger is the one to get me to settle down." Blaise was examining his fingernails like they weren't discussing his potential feelings for Gryffindor's Princess. His casual attitude was starting to get under Draco's skin and he felt the angry words forming on his tongue.

"Very. Fucking. Likely," Draco pushed out through clenched teeth. "You aren't good enough for her. None of us are."

"Is that why you haven't tried anything?"

The anger must have been clouding his judgement. That's the only explanation for why he said, "Maybe."

"Well, fucking finally!" Blaise yelled. "I've been flirting with her in front of you for days. If you didn't snap soon, I'd have had to make an honest woman out of her." Draco practically growled at his friend for the remark.

"Down boy," Theo commanded, arm still slung over his eyes. "We thought you just needed… a push. Some encouragement to maybe express some deeper feelings."

"How many times do I have to tell you? We are just friends! New friends at that," Draco asserted. He was getting very tired of this conversation. He'd heard it after the party where he danced with Granger. He'd heard it after every casual touch. For Merlin's sake, he'd heard it an hour ago when he helped Granger carry her books to class! She really did just travel with a personal library and he was just being helpful.

"Your accidental confession seems to suggest otherwise," Theo sing-songed.

"Friends is more than I ever expected to have, alright?" Draco said, exasperated. "There is no version of this story where she somehow looks past all of our past and agrees to… more."

"But do you want more? Do you want her?" Blaise pushed.

"I'm not a fucking idiot. She's… incredible. She's kind. She's forgiving. Smart as hell. Beautiful without all the glamours and charms Pansy's been putting on her recently. Why wouldn't I want her?"

"Then, what I suggest, is that you grow the fuck up. Go find some of that cocky attitude from when you were fifteen and show her why you deserve a chance." Theo sat up suddenly. His serious look was back again and he was slapping Draco's arm with each step of this plan.

"Ow, dickhead!" Draco rubbed his sore arm. "Did you forget that I'm a marked Death Eater?"

"Former Death Eater," Blaise corrected.

"Yes. Former. So stop dwelling on that. You apologized. You're friends. Clearly, she doesn't hate you," Theo agreed.

"If she walked away from a relationship with her best friend—"

"Do not bring up that twat to me. Or her," Theo fumed. His entire expression darkened and he looked ready to break something. Something that was attached to Ron Weasley, apparently. "Don't compare yourself to him either. Trust me."

"Well, there's a story there," Blaise perked up.

"One I will not be telling," Theo said firmly. "Now, back to Draco's self-loathing. Please, put away your martyrdom and brooding. Just ask the witch to Hogsmeade. Or ask her to sit with you at the Quidditch game tomorrow. Baby steps."

"Perfect! She hates Quidditch so if she agrees to go with you, then she's definitely interested in something," Blaise said excitedly. He was practically vibrating with excitement. Like an excited Pomeranian.

"Fine. It's a Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw match, though. She may just sit with us as an act of neutrality. Or because all her friends are playing," Draco argued.

"Stop being so negative or I will slap you again," Theo threatened. He raised his hand slowly.

"I'm not being negative! I'm being a realist," Draco sighed.

"Oh, for the love of… Listen. To. Me," Theo huffed in annoyance. "You are not a bad person. You are not less deserving of happiness—"

"Or sex," Blaise cut in.

"Really? I'm trying to have a serious moment here." Theo glared past Draco at Blaise.

"Well, the man hasn't buried his bone anywhere since his release from Azkaban. And who knows how long he went without before prison," Blaise said with concern.

"What? Is he being serious?" Theo exclaimed. "You haven't—nevermind. We will work on that problem later. I can only fix one crisis at a time." Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. He really hated his mates sometimes.

Azkaban was at least quiet.

"As I was saying, you will sit with Granger at Quidditch. If it goes well, you will ask her to Hogsmeade. Then, we will discuss how you have managed to go this fucking long without a shag," Theo ordered.

Blaise sagely nodded. "I agree. That poor woman has been through enough. She doesn't need your subpar bedroom skills added to the list."

Draco looked toward the heavens, asking the universe to give him strength. "I can't stand either of you."

"Aw… we love you, too, mate," Blaise gushed. Draco pushed him hard enough that he fell and rolled a little down the hill. Meanwhile, Theo was leaning over to try to kiss his cheek.

"Tossers. Both of you." Draco reclined back to soak up more of the sun and put his thoughts in order.

He could ask Granger to sit with them for the game. There were plenty of reasons at his disposal if she reacted poorly, like the Exchange Program or the new strain on her relationships with Gryffindors.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of laughter. He looked up to see Granger walking down the hill with Daphne and Pansy. Her curls were wild and blowing gently around her face. She'd removed her tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of her Oxford. A brilliant, genuine smile spread across her face.

She looked so happy. So free.

Fuck me, he thought. He was completely besotted.

If you're wondering the answer to the riddle for Seamus to enter Ravenclaw…

"Where do vanished objects go?"

"Into nonbeing, which is to say, everything," replied Professor McGonagall.

"Nicely phrased," replied the eagle door knocker, and the door swung open."

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Go check out my tumblr (lost-poetx) /twitter (lostpoetx) for a teaser and some fanart

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Updates every 2 weeks on Friday.