AN: Yeah, okay, I KNOW I said everything would be on time… but my little niece was just born! AND SHE IS JUST SO CUTE! And she's consumed my attention. So, my bad. I hope you're all ready for the fluff that will be the next few chapters- it might gag you at times, but hey, sometimes fluff happens. The angst will return soon, promise.

ALSO! I cannot make graphics to save my life, but I would LOVE if some of you made some for The Sorting. Or any of my stories, really. I've decided that I will reward those who make graphics with… ONESHOTS! Written by me, for you. Any ship, any plot- as long as it's HP. If you do decide to be awesome and make a graphic, you can either message me through here, or get to me through my Tumblr.

My Tumblr is on my profile

I love you all

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling. I do not own the souls of billions of people- erm, I mean Harry Potter.

October 10, After Dinner, Heads Dorm

Pansy:

She was caught between laughing until her lungs explode and trying to decipher the look on Dean's face. Was he pleased? Was he embarrassed? Was he afraid that they would seek revenge? The bloke used to be a bloody Gryffindor for Salazar's sake! That fact alone should have been enough to assure that whatever he was feeling was written across his face. But his face betrayed nothing, and Pansy just couldn't decide what was lurking beyond Dean's laughter.

She spent the entire trip back to Slytherin trying to figure out this ex-Gryffindor who was far more mysterious than he had any right to be. But when Granger led everyone through the portrait and into the Head's suite, Dean grabbed Pansy's arm to help her inside and Pansy stopped thinking about anything at all.

Bloody bastard had managed to short-circuit her brain with something as simple as his palm on her cloaked arm. Merlin she was bloody pathetic!

His hand did not leave her arm even as they entered the small sitting room in the Head's Dorm and moved to take their seats. He was sitting quite close to her on the small little couch, but before Pansy was able to attempt to analyze every little detail about his posture and his intentions behind it, Hermione spoke up and her words nearly stopped Pansy's heart from beating in her chest.

"Gin, Harry- I know you're there I felt you walking next to me. Pop on out and have a seat where everyone can see you, please."

Then Harry Potter and Little Red materialized out from under an Invisibility Cloak and the blood drained from Pansy's face. Her eyes zeroed in on Potter, the person she'd tried to hand over to the Dark Lord not even 5 months ago. Her heart began to race, her breathing intensified and it took all of her strength of will not to squeak and sprint through the portrait and hide in her dorm room the way that all of her self-preservation instincts were screaming for her to. If she had been able to notice anything other than Potter she would have seen that across the room Draco was reacting in much the same way, while Blaise seemed much at ease.

She should have run the moment she saw him, but a part of her refused to give him the satisfaction. She did not regret what she had done, she had her reasons. She would not feel shame for doing what must be done in order to survive.

Pansy attempted to call some moisture into her mouth as she worked to control her breathing.

Hermione was considered a friend, was she not? She would not have allowed Potter here if he had intended to hex Pansy on sight, would she? Then again, maybe that was simply Pansy relying too much upon the Gryffindor qualities instead of the qualities that landed the bushy haired chit into Slytherin in the first place. What was the first rule that any Slytherin learned?

Trust no one with your life, other than yourself.

But even as Pansy doubted how much she could trust Hermione Granger, Potter and Little Red calmly took a seat and didn't a glance for anyone other than Dean and Hermione. Both seemed well at their ease and gradually Pansy forced herself to calm down and acknowledge that the war was over- even her mind shouted otherwise.

It wasn't until Dean's hand moved down to hers that Pansy was in enough control of herself to notice the rather unique seating arrangements. While Pansy was sandwiched in between Dean and Blaise, the arrival of Potter and his girlfriend had startled Draco enough that he had jumped immediately into the only available seat that would make it possible for him not to be left sitting next to one of them. This left Draco and Hermione sitting together in the loveseat by the fire.

It was possible that one could have attributed the slight blush on their cheeks to the heat coming from the fire, but Pansy knew better. She looked forward to watching them squirm for the remainder of the night.

"Okay, done with the silence. Hermione Jean Granger you explain yourself this instant because if you do not tell me how you pulled all of that off in the next 30 seconds I swear I will hex you into Oblivion," Little Red demanded.

"Gin-"

"No, Harry. Besides, you've no room to talk because you're possibly the most tactless person I know aside from my brother. If left up to you that silence would have lasted well into the night. 20 seconds, Hermione," Little Red said, reaching for her wand.

Pansy didn't know whether or not to applaud the straightforward girl or to whip out her own wand and prepare for a duel.

"I must say that I agree, dear. Do tell, because for a moment there I wasn't quite so certain that you had a plan at all," Pansy said, adding her bit into the fray. It was partly an attempt to assert her role in Hermione life in front of Potter and Little Red, and partly as a means to calm herself down.

She didn't notice that she had also leaned into Dean's side as well, but he certainly did.

Hermione:

Well she knew that this was coming. But where to begin? Best to get the biggest bit out of the way, she supposed.

So Hermione smiled, looked at everyone in the room, and called out for Winky.

Crack

"Yes, Mistress?" squeaked the elf who was now bowing in front of Hermione.

A quick glance told her that the jaws of everybody in the room had completely dropped, and she could only guess what they must be thinking. She waited a moment for them to say something, but their shock didn't seem to dissipate. She could have sworn that Malfoy had squeaked.

"Hello, Winky. Could you please do me a favor and bring up 7 hot chocolates, as well as a quill, ink, and parchment?" Hermione asked quietly. With a quick nod Winky was gone with another loud crack, leaving Hermione to stares at her friends (and Malfoy) in quiet amusement.

Really, it wasn't her fault. But Winky had wanted a new family so badly- and when Hermione had visited the kitchens she was desperate for something that would make her plan work out the way she wanted it to. Besides, she was dedicated to promoting Elvish Welfare, was she not? Winky was miserable and dying before she had bonded to Hermione. Now, the elf was cleaned up, taking care of herself, and beginning to gain some of her weight back. Such remarkable changes, in only a week.

Not to mention the fact that since she was Winky's mistress, she would be able to be certain that at least one House Elf was being treated with respect. One step at a time.

Crack

"Winky is bringing Mistress what was asked for," Winky squeaked, serving Hermione first and also passing along the other items that were requested.

"Thank you so very much, Winky," Hermione was sure to say. Winky seemed to tremble a bit at the thanks, but went on serving the others in the room their hot chocolate instead of bursting into tears.

While Winky was occupied, Hermione scribbled out a note to be given to George.

Dear George,

You were right to feel the need to come to Hogwarts, and I am so sorry that I was one of those who spoke against it. You are not crazy. Please come as quickly as you can manage.

With Love, Hermione.

P.S. Please leaving all punching telescopes at home, if you don't mind.

She smiled a bit at the last line. It probably wasn't needed, but she wanted there to be no doubt in George's mind that it was indeed Hermione that was getting him this message. Paranoia is hard to get rid of after a war.

"Is there being anything else needed of Winky, Mistress?"

"Yes, but just one more thing," she said kindly. "I need you to get this message to its recipient as quickly as possible, please. And then you may go ahead and do as you please with the rest of the Hogwarts elves."

"Of course, Mistress," Winky squeaked.

This time when the young elf left, the shock had worn off enough for people to react to the news.

"You've got to be bloody joking," Harry breathed, disbelief flooding his face.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong darling, but isn't that against your moral code or something?" Pansy asked.

Malfoy squeaked again, although that time he also managed to give a jerk of the head. Ginny and Dean, however, she could see were putting the pieces together in their minds.

"Spew! That's what it was called!" was the delightful contribution of Blaise. An old flame of irritation sparked inside Hermione, and she couldn't help but correct him much in the same way that she had corrected Ron and Harry what seemed like forever ago.

"Actually, it was the Society for the Protection of Elvish Welfare or S. P. E. W., not spew."

"'Mione, not important," Harry sighed. His hands rubbed up against his eyes while Ginny sat giggling next to him, apparently overcome by her best friend's antics.

Dean cleared his throat before leaning forward and turning to face her. "If you needed a House Elf, why didn't you just borrow Harry's? Or was that what you were trying to do last week in the library?"

Huh?

"How did you know that I was even talking to Harry in the library?" she asked.

"I was sitting at one of the tables with Seamus, catching him up on things," Dean explained. The blush that rose up to his cheeks left no doubt in Hermione's mind as to which topic had been discussed at that table and what the female sitting between he and Blaise. "We caught the tail end of the conversation the two of you were having."

"Yes, well, Kreacher probably wouldn't have cooperated with me, so I, erm… well, I allowed Winky to bond herself to me. And she's already so much happier and healthier than she used to be…" Hermione tapered off slowly, knowing what argument was going to be made against her but not sure of which direction it would come from.

Luckily for her, Ginny cast a silencing charm on Blaise before he could vocalize his point and no one else felt like raising a fuss over Hermione's rather hypocritical actions.

"But won't the other House Elves know that it was Winky who put the potion in their goblets? You'll be caught out…" Dean asked.

"That would be why I got Peeves to go and terrorize the House Elves. There was so much commotion that none of them will have noticed Winky slipping in the potion."

Silence met her words.

"You… you got Peeves to do you a favor?" Harry exclaimed.

"Yes."

"But… that's not possible. Believe me, I've tried!" Ginny spluttered, looking over at Hermione with a new touch of respect in her gaze.

"I've no doubt that he'll make me regret it at some point, but for the moment I think whatever he'll get me back with is worth it, don't you think?" she lied. Eventually she could reveal how she actually got Peeves to cooperate with her, but that couldn't happen until Fred had revealed himself to his family.

"How permanent is the potion? And how'd you come up with that, anyway?" Harry asked.

"From Luna and-"

"What does it matter how long it lasts?" Blaise growled, glaring a bit at Harry. "They deserved it and much worse for what they did."

No one quite knew how to respond to that, torn between their (slightly skewed) morals and their loyalty to Dean. To everyone's surprise, it was Dean who answered.

"They're only kids, Blaise," Dean said. His eyes were downcast and his voice was heavy, but there was a certainty in his words that none could counter. "Sixth year, some not even that."

Hermione tensed. She wasn't sure how she knew what was coming, but her heart stopped as she looked over at Malfoy. As everyone except for Dean looked over at Malfoy, waiting.

"A lot of damage can be done by someone who is 'just a sixth year'. It doesn't change anything. A choice is a choice- good or bad," Malfoy said. His eyes were closed, and Hermione had to fight back the urge to reach and brush against his clenched fists. She could picture him reliving every choice he ever made, in that moment. To what end she would never know.

"You were just a child too, Draco," Pansy whispered.

As much as she wanted to nod, Hermione willed herself not to. She doubted. What she doubted, not even she knew, but the doubt was there nonetheless.

"No he wasn't."

Harry's voice, loud and clear, rang out in the silent room. Hermione could feel Malfoy tense as everyone in the room took a breath and braced themselves- but none had been braced enough for the words that followed.

"None of us were ever really children, were we?" Harry continued, his gaze flickering back and forth between Pansy and Malfoy. "Not one of us."

"What are you going on about, Potter?" Draco demanded with his eyes hard and blazing.

"Think on it. Think on the choices we were all forced to make, and what ages we were when we made them," Ginny murmured.

It was true. At 11 Hermione had made choices that most adults were usually spared. Those choices continued and got harder, some ways, as she got older. Could that really be considered a childhood? Could someone who has faced horrors truly be considered to still be a child?

"Choices?" Harry scoffed. "What choice? Not everyone had choices, Dean. You and Hermione- yes, you had choices to make. No one is denying that, or denying their difficulty or what those choices did to you. But I know for a fact that at least four, possibly five, of us in this room didn't have any choices. Our choices were made long before we were born."

Pansy and Malfoy were gaping at Harry while the rest of them nodded. It was true. Because no one could actually call the choice between living and dying a choice, many of them hadn't had any choices at all. How was that fair? How was any of it fair, or right? None of it was. And where did it leave them? They did not have a childhood, because they had all been forced to act as adults. But what was to happen to them now?

"We're lost. All of us," she stated quietly.

Faces turned to her in confusion.

"As children we were forced to act as adults, to commit acts the likes of which most adults aren't even capable of handling. But we could, because it was all we knew, really. But where does that leave us now? We cannot be children, yet here we are where our childhood was supposed to take place. We were forced to grow up so quickly that we missed out on so much… and now that everything is over, how do we go on? We were raised by a war," she explained. "But now the war is done and none of us know how to live. We're lost."

"What do you mean we don't know how to live?" Blaise asked.

"We know how to survive, yes. But how do we live?" Hermione asked, hoping that she was making some kind of sense.

"Not all of us even know how to survive, 'Mione. You took care of that bit for me," Harry smiled.

Hermione offered him a faint, ghost of a smile in return. "Yes, well, you had your mind on other things. Somebody had to keep you breathing."

Harry tilted his head in acknowledgement as Ginny curled up closer to him. Hermione couldn't blame them- reliving the past was enough to make anyone search out comfort in the cold of the dungeons. It was this rationalization that quieted her subconscious when she noticed that she and Malfoy were sitting so close together at this point that they were touching, and fire blazed inside where their bodies met. She knew that he must have noticed, but while she didn't move away, neither did he.

Shadows care not about the source of the light that chases them away. Only that it is there.

"We do the same thing that we've been doing, don't we? The only thing we know how to do, really," Malfoy said in answer to Hermione's earlier question. Before anyone could ask what exactly he meant, Pansy answered for them.

"We do what we must," she whispered. "Whatever it takes."

Nods filled the silence, and as they all sat there thinking, the mugs of hot chocolate refilled themselves and startled the somber group.

"What shall we toast to?" Ginny asked, raising her mug slightly into the air.

"Revenge?"

"Life?"

"Survival?"

"To doing what we must," said Harry.

His toast was not contested and each member of the small group raised their mug to one another and drank, willing the hot chocolate to chase away the demons of the past. Nothing was said, after that. Each was lost in their own thoughts, reliving battles and wondering what would have happened if they had made a different choice somewhere along the road- whether or not a choice had been available to them.

Blaise and Dean were the first to leave, nodding slowly to everyone in the room before disappearing out of the portrait. Nothing strange about that, what with the heavy conversation still lingering in the air. But when Harry stood to leave, all who remained were surprised to see that Pansy stood up and stopped him.

"I'm not sorry. Or ashamed," she told him, emotion thick in her voice.

Harry turned, smiled at Pansy, and held out his hand for her to shake. And when she grasped it, he told her that she had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of.

"It's just life, in the end. We all do what we have to do and there is no shame in that," he said before leaving, not even bothering to disillusion himself. Pansy followed and escorted him safely through the common room.

Hermione, Malfoy, and Ginny all stood and began to make their way up the stairs to get some sleep, hopefully the kind that didn't end in screams.

"Some life, yeah?" Hermione heard herself ask aloud.

"Yeah. Some life," Ginny answered when she reached the top of the staircase and disappeared into Hermione's room. About to follow, something made Hermione pause and turn to look at Malfoy before he entered into his own room.

He had paused too, and when he turned a small smile graced his face. "Goodnight, Granger."

"Goodnight, Malfoy," she whispered before she offered a sad little smile of her own.

That night Hermione had to search long and hard in order to find the new sense of peace that washed through her. Just when she thought that she might have figured it out Hermione decided that, like the shadows, she didn't care about the source-only that it existed.