A/N: Part two. This should end up with 3-4 chapters so not real long.

11 Months earlier:

Hermione stared straight ahead. How was the world still spinning? How were they supposed to go on with their lives?

Neville was dead.

There was no uncertainty or maybe's about it. Dead.

How could they keep fighting when at any moment, their friends could die?

In her mind, she understood that war meant casualties and not all of those casualties would be wearing white masks. Hermione had never been so aware of the difference between knowing something intellectually and actually accepting it as fact as she was in that moment.

She couldn't stand to be in the same room as Harry and Ron and everyone else she cared about knowing they could be ripped away without warning. She couldn't look at them without seeing images of their eyes glazed over and empty after a flash of green light fades away. She just couldn't look at them.

Hermione slipped out the back door intending to sit on the porch swing and pessimistically wonder if every victory would be phyrric in nature. Apparently the porch was more popular than she expected as sitting on the swing was none other than Draco Malfoy holding a bottle of firewhiskey. She looked at him and waited for the guilt and images to come. They never did.

Draco glanced up from his study of the bottle in his hands and looked at her intently and waited for her to speak.

"We're not friends." Hermione said after a pause. She didn't say it to be mean, it was simply a statement of fact.

He nodded in agreement. "No, we're not." He affirmed as he took a drink. It had been a rough night all around.

"Well, a non-friend with whiskey is just what I need tonight. Scoot over."

He complied and as she sat down, handed her the bottle. They sat in silence until the sun began to peak over the tops of the mountains and the firewhiskey had long since run dry.

Hermione slowly rose to standing, stretching out as her legs protested from being in the same position for hours. She turned to go back inside but turned back, "Malfoy…thanks."

"For what? Not being your friend?" He chuckled and for the first time since the battle, Hermione felt the corners of her mouth turn up.

"Kinda."

"Anytime, Granger."

The next battle had a much better outcome for the Order. No casualties and they'd eliminated a large number of the enemy. That had been the phrased used when the reports came back to the Order members.

The group in the safe house together erupted in shouts and cheers. Any day where everyone comes home is a day for celebration. Except for a certain blond.

Hermione found Draco sitting out on the porch after the sun had set, once again with a half empty bottle of firewhiskey. He glanced up at her almost resentfully. "We're not friends. Sit."

At the sound of her words from last time (and a heaping of curiosity), She did as he asked. "No, we're not."

"Wanna know how I know that?" He said with mildly drunken numbness and handed her the bottle, "because my friend died today."

Hermione gasped and he glared harder. "I'm sor-"

"I don't want your sympathy." He cut her off. "Blaise is… Blaise was the 'enemy.' That's why everyone's celebrating right?"

Suddenly the sounds of joy coming from the other room were cruel rather than comforting. Hermione was frozen, trying to find the words to respond.

"Don't think, Granger. Drink."

And that was that.

It became an odd routine. After a particularly rough day, they'd end up on the porch with a bottle in between them. Over time, the days didn't need to be so rough for them to find themselves there.

Draco approached the back door almost hesitantly. He'd seen Hermione pass through half an hour ago with a bottle in her hand. Thus far, she'd always been the one to initiate in the odd routine they had fallen into. After a moment's deliberation, Draco grit his teeth and opened the door.

"We're not friends." Hermione told him as he stepped out. She wasn't seated on the stairs like he'd been expecting but was pacing back and forth.

"No, we're not."

"Good because my friends are prats."

Draco smiled. This was going to be interesting.

"Well certainly this can't be a recent discovery." He said smugly.

He got a glare in return which he ignored.

"They want me to take a 'more passive role' in the war. Unbelievable!" The witch fumed. "I'm not taking a more 'passive role.' Why should I? I'm perfectly capable. I'm more capable. For years, I am the only reason those two managed to accomplish anything and now they just want me to…to what, sit out? To warm the bench for a while? No."

Draco watched in amusement as the woman in front of him got more and more into her rant.

"Why should I sit out? Now, really. Is there a single reason they can come up with aside from my gender? No, there's not. I'm gonna sit back like some little school while the boys go off to war. I can help and I'm gonna help. That is for damn sure." She continued with the bottle seemingly forgotten in her hand.

"It's absurd and unreasonable. Magic has nothing to do with muscle mass. Dueling relies on speed and intelligence and I beat them both in those areas. So what if I'm a little shorter than they are? That just means I'm a smaller target to hit. Really, it's an advantage!" She turned to Draco suddenly and it took him a moment to realize she was waiting for him to respond.

He tried to keep himself from smiling but it was a losing battle. Before long he was laughing, which only made Hermione turn red, which made Draco laugh even harder.

"I'm sorry, Granger but do you hear yourself when you speak?" He mocked as he tried to catch his breath. He couldn't recall the last time he actually laughed.

Hermione huffed and paused in her pacing long enough to smack his arm. "This is not funny! They cornered me and stupidly asked me to sit out from now on. As if I would ever agree to that!"

"Well if this is your reaction, I promise to never ask anything of you." Draco continued to have that smug amused look on his face.

Hermione grudgingly smiled back.

Hermione slipped outside when everyone else was asleep. It had been a pretty average day with nothing particularly exciting happening but it was a warm summer evening and sitting outside just sounded nice.

That's the only reason she came to the porch. Honestly. It had nothing to do with a Slytherin that had an uncanny knack for knowing whenever she passed through that back door. It was just a nice night.

Within 15 minutes. The door creaked as it opened. Hermione didn't glance up as a man settled in next to her on the steps. She passed him a plate of cookies.

Sensing his confusion, she explained as she grabbed a cookie of her own. "I couldn't find any firewhiskey but Molly made some cookies so…."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

This had to have been the 15th time they'd sat together in the 6 months since Neville died. It was getting harder to write it off as coincidences and this time, they couldn't even pretend they were just here for the alcohol.

Hermione was still putting together what that meant.

"Hey, Malfoy?" Hermione started hesitantly, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over them, "We're…friends."

Draco turned to glare at the witch sitting next to him but it was very difficult to look intimidating when you had a mouth full of chocolate chip cookie. Hermione decided to seize the opportunity as there was no way perfect pureblood Malfoy would speak with his mouth full.

"There's no denying it. I guess we just have to accept the fact. I'll see you later, I suppose. " With that, she went back inside and went to bed before she could over analyze she and Draco's interactions to date.

A/N: Thanks for reading and please review. Also, come talk to me on tumblr ( draco-and-granger) as I'm starting a dramione fan fiction book club type deal that should be pretty fun.