AN: *peeks out from behind a shrubbery* Hello? Anyone still out there? You may not remember me… it's been so long since I came to say hello… but I've missed you and hope you've been well. I've now graduated University! So… yay?

I have no excuse for how long this has taken. None. Sorry guys. But I'm here now so let's do this thing!

Disclaimer: I suck at writing and fail at life and don't own Harry Potter.

November 2nd, Breakfast, Great Hall

Hermione:

Sitting next to Pansy on the bench and trying to act as though nothing was out of the ordinary was nearly impossible. Under normal circumstances, the fact that she had achieved a great night's sleep would be cause for a round of celebration- not dismay. She felt wonderful, almost like a weight had been lifted from her sore and too-thin shoulders, shoulders that told the world quite plainly Hermione hadn't been eating as well as she should have been.

Of course, under normal circumstances, Hermione wouldn't have woken up to find that she was cradled in the warm, protective arms of one Draco Malfoy.

That morning had been nothing if not awkward, and Hermione was unyielding in her attempt to pretend as though it hadn't happened. To pretend that she couldn't feel his eyes on her even as she dallied in scooping up her porridge.

Luckily for her Headmistress McGonagall chose to stand at the podium and address the students before Hermione was forced to acknowledge him.

Hermione's heart turned straight to stone and plummeted into her stomach the moment she looked up and saw the look on the Headmistress' face. It was a cold, disconnected look. A look that had a better place on someone bound for the gallows than upon a Headmistress addressing her students.

Adrenaline began to flow into her veins, and without even realizing it she reached into her robes to hold tight onto her wand.

Minerva:

Almost on instinct, Minerva searched the crowd and allowed her eyes to fall onto Potter, Weasley, Granger, Longbottom, Finnegan, and Lovegood…. And saw that each and every one of them had a grip on their wands, as though waiting and poised to shoot if only Minerva would give them a target. Trepidation filled her and she acknowledged that, essentially, that was exactly what she was doing.

"Students, some of you may have noticed that the post is running a bit late this morning. That is my doing. It would seem, unfortunately, that my earlier prediction was correct. The Wizarding World is once again at war, though we do not yet know the face of our foe. I am afraid, that once again I must ask too much of some of you. You know who you are, and what will be required of you. I have, once again, the pendants that will allow you to portkey out of the castle and to a battle location- should you choose to accept them. As a precaution we will also be providing panic amulets, for those who feel the need to take them. The amulet is as such that if the wearer should feel their life threatened, they need only grasp the amulet and think of their safe place. Immediately they will be transported, no matter where from, but only if your life is truly in danger."

The entire Hall was pale faced and grim, and Minerva could feel her resolve breaking. It hadn't even been a year since the last time she addressed this hall with a similar declaration of war. It took all of her resolve to continue her speech, to do so she had to look straight ahead, and not at the students themselves.

"Only the students who participate in the cleanup this summer will be accepted to fight again, because they will require little to no training. Stand now and approach if you are willing, but please know that this is not to be taken lightly, as you well know. The dangers perhaps are doubled…."

But it was useless. When Minerva chanced a glance downward, she saw that all of the students, the chosen, were already standing and moving forward to the dais- looks of acceptance and determination on their faces.

"Very well, then."

McGonagall ended her address and somberly, woodenly, held out the necklaces with the pendants hanging from the plain silver chains.

One by one, her students accepted her summons to war. One by one, she watched as she assigned her charger to the possibility of a death they did not deserve.

And no sooner had the last student accepted their pendant did they all flare red in a plea for help, and one by one her students vanished from her sight, and students screamed throughout the hall.

Draco:

Draco was out of the seat and moving towards where Granger and the others had vanished before he had even realized what he was doing, and that his movement itself was pointless. They were gone, off to fight in a battle that was supposedly taking place somewhere around the world, and he was sitting here at Hogwarts. Useless.

Several people had screamed at the sudden disappearances of their classmates, but Draco's attention was only for McGonagall who looked…. Beaten.

Draco felt a draft of cold air at his shoulder and turned to see an absolutely livid Fred Weasley standing next to him. Why the ghost had chosen to haunt Draco, he'd no idea. But for the moment and the foreseeable feature it looked as though he was stuck with the ghost as a companion.

"Pack it in, mate," Draco muttered, "Killing the Headmistress isn't going to bring Little Red back from war."

Fred turned and gave him the stink eye. "Oh don't act like you aren't as pissed as I am about this whole situation!" he hissed.

Draco raised an eyebrow, why in Merlin's name would he be angry about it?

The look that Fred laid on him was absolutely disgusted, and the ghost rolled his eyes exaggeratedly before vanishing on the spot.

"Draco… was that… a Weasley twin?" Pansy asked, and her voice was about an octave or two higher than normal. Then again, given the fact that her boyfriend just disappeared to go and fight without so much as saying goodbye, Draco figured that she had a reason to be a bit miffed.

"Yes, the dead one."

"But- why?!"

"Haven't the foggiest, I blame Granger."

Draco was still standing. He was still standing and his thoughts were moving much too quickly and if Pansy asked him one more question about why it was exactly that the ghost of Fred Weasley had chosen Draco as his new favorite companion then he just might hex her. He knew that he would eventually have to explain about the polyjuice and the visit to the Weasley Hovel, but he preferred to put it off for as long as possible. For all that Pansy seemed to have had a personality transplant, Draco just knew this wouldn't be something she could understand.

Draco also knew that he was focusing on his annoyance at Pansy in order to distract himself from the fact that Granger had effectively gone completely out of his range of protection. What would the hat do it him if something happened to Granger while she had gone somewhere that Draco couldn't follow? It's not like he could suddenly make him switch Houses, right?

Then again, the bloody hat could get inside his head whenever is pleased itself to, and having a magical object out to get him wasn't exactly something Draco thought would be good for his continued existence.

He did his best to put it out of his mind and set himself instead to looking out at the Great Hall at the mix of shock and fear- at the Headmistress who looked as though she had just send them all to their deaths. Which, she very well might have. No one was taking control, and there was something niggling at him in the back of his head reminding him that he was, actually, Head Boy and it was probably his responsibility to do something until McGonagall got her head out of the fog it was in.

What would Granger do?

Right. Panic Amulets.

Draco stood up and moved towards the dais, raising his voice over the din as he did so.

"All House Prefects approach the front of the Hall to grab a bag of the amulets. If both your prefects just disappeared into thin bloody air, then pick a different representative to get up here and do what needs doing."

It was odd. His voice sounded too loud in the room, and he didn't like the silence that followed his words or the way every pair of eyes was on his back. Weirder still was that he could hear movement, and it sounded like people were actually listening to him.

Odd.

The Headmistress gave him a nod and gathered herself before address the school leaders.

"Each bag is enchanted to produce however amulets are needed. Given the events of the past year I recommend that everyone should set the bags up in their common rooms and leave them available at all hours," she suggested, eyes heavy behind her horn rimmed glasses.

"What if someone steals them or destroys them?" asked a Ravenclaw that Draco had, quite frankly, never seen before in his life.

"I would assume that she has thought of that and already taken the necessary precautions," Draco drawled, he folded his arms and leaned a little against the podium completely at ease. Or at least that's what he wanted everyone to think.

"Yeah, no offense or anything, but the last time the teachers thought they had taken all necessary precautions in regards to an enchanted object, Potter ended up the second Hogwarts Champion."

That made his eyes raise up and Draco gave a speaker a second look over. She was tall, willowy, with a light splattering of freckles and brown-red hair. If it weren't for the 'better than thou' attitude she could definitely have passed off as being one of the Weasley's. Well, he supposed there was the pompous Weasley, she could easily be related to him. Maybe they were cousins? He should ask Fred.

"You might actually have a point with that statement," Draco agreed, raising his eyebrows at the Headmistress. She didn't look pleased.

"While I can understand your lack of faith, should something happen to the bags despite our precautions, we have extras, so all you will need to do is come by the office to pick up a replacement," control over the situation. "Now, will there be anything else? If not, I highly suggest you begin moving towards your classes."

This was going to be a long day, he just knew it.

And he was right.

All throughout classes Draco could feel the weight of the enchanted bag in his pocket, and all it did was serve as a reminder that the bag wasn't filling up the empty spaces left around them.

At glance, Draco could count several spots of desolation in the castle that should have been filled by those who were out throwing themselves into dangerous situations.

Granger. Dean. Potter. Granger. Weasley. Weasley. Lovegood. Granger. Finnegan. Longbottom. Granger.

Granger.

It was nearing the end of his final classes of the day (NEWT Potions) and the comforting setting of the dungeons did nothing to dispel the fact that he hadn't caught sight of her bushy head anywhere. And it shouldn't bother him, it shouldn't.

It's not as if the damned hat could blame him if the chit got harmed while off doing something stupid in a place where Draco wasn't allowed to follow, right? So Draco was free to revel in his lack of protection detail, but it still felt off. And he didn't jerk up his head whenever a door opened, or someone's cauldron made a loud popping sound- he didn't.

Portkey's didn't even make a popping sound Draco, you idiot. He shook his head attempting to clear it but to no avail. There was just nothing to be done about his potion, he couldn't concentrate, and so he vanished the contents altogether.

The lack of reprimand from Slughorn drew his attention to the fact that he obviously was not the only one who had done so. Everyone had finally ceased their work and was instead looking about at the small amount of people present.

Even the Pratil twins had gone off to fight, leaving the rest of them behind to wait.

Evening, After Dinner

Daphne:

When everyone had gone back to their Houses after the last class of the day to drop off their books and head off to dinner, the House representatives had dropped of the bags of medallions.

Some speech was given about how everyone should take them even if they felt that they should be safe because of their family status or whatever- Daphne wasn't really listening. She was torn between wondering why in Salazar's name the others hadn't returned yet, and why these medallions had been made available to the students during the war.

It really was such a simple solution, wasn't it? You live is in danger, grab the medallion, and port away to safety.

Easy.

Why were these only popping up now? How many lives would have been save during the war if something like this had been handed out with a long-winded lecture about how no one was safe and not to let bravery keep you from taking such a simple precaution?

'Simple Precaution'.

The answer as to why these didn't exist before was quite obvious, when she thought about it. You Know Who had had control over the Ministry before he ever really made his move- thanks to the dilly-dallying of Fudge's days, of course. Perhaps these medallions had existed the whole war, but had been locked away in the Department of Mysteries, kept out of the hands of those who would need them by You Know Who's cronies?

Hatred towards that vile creature raged, and Daphne turned her back on the medallions and waited for Theo to return from grabbing his. Call it bravery, call it pride, call it stupidity- call it what you wish, but Daphne refused to fight this war with something that should have been around for those who had fallen before.

She and Theo walked down to the Great Hall in silence, each buried within their own thoughts, until someone stepped out in front of her, threw something around her neck, and muttered a spell before she'd even had time to register that something had happened.

When Daphne did look up, she saw Astoria, alone, standing before her with a defiant look upon her face- Theo was not so subtly moving backwards as though to give them some privacy, but she could see that while he was attempting to be polite, he also wasn't an idiot. He was readying his wand just in case.

Daphne dared to look away from her little sister and glanced down at what was thrown around her neck, and nearly gasped when she realized what it was.

It was one of the medallions.

Frustrated and enraged, although to be honest she wasn't quite sure why, Daphne tried to tear the thing off of her, but it wouldn't budge. Nor would the chain break, or be pulled back over her head.

"It's not going to come off, I spelled it," Astoria muttered, sounding slightly exasperated.

Daphne gulped back tears and forced herself to look up and meet the latest challenge before her. "Explain yourself."

She didn't miss the way that Astoria's eyes kept glancing around the hall to make sure that they were still alone, with the exception of Theo.

"I knew you wouldn't grab one for yourself."

"Yeah, and? Last I checked whether or not I live or die shouldn't really matter to you. I think you made that quite clear."

Daphne was refusing to let herself get her hopes up, she knew the type of world they lived in. But there was no denying the flash of hurt, and maybe even regret, that surfaced in her little sisters eyes. So perhaps things weren't as clear-cut as they seemed to be at first glance.

"I don't want you to die. And I don't want you to do something stupid like not protect yourself out of some kind of misguided pride or to spite everything you once stood for," Astoria paused, frustrated, before continuing. "As long as you're alive you have a chance to come back to the fold, come back home. All you need is enough time to come to your senses!"

Daphne closed her eyes, torn. Happy that her sister still cared, in her own way, and despair in the knowledge that there was no going back. She could tell Astoria that as far as their parents were concerned Daphne had marker herself for death and that nothing could redeem her in their eyes. That her last name had suddenly disappeared from all documents, that if anyone tried to refer to her as "Greengrass" they would suddenly choke on the very air they breathed.

But she didn't want to give up this connection, however frail, to her sister. Not yet. Because what Tori said of Daphne could go both ways. If Draco Malfoy was proof of anything it was that it is never too late to join the side of the Light.

"One condition."

Astoria looked up from checking the hall once again to meet her gaze with eyes of steel, the soft blonde hair they both shared doing little to make her appearance less severe.

"One condition and I won't find a way to get this damned thing off me, and I'll use it if the time comes."

"And what might that be?"

"You wear one too, and I spell it just like you did mine."

A small smile graced Astoria's lips and her shoulders relaxed slightly. She then pulled out the medallion she was already wearing and smirked, allowing Daphne to cast her spells.

After it was done Astoria turned and left without a word, once again with a solid ice wall up between she and her sister. Theo came up to stand next to her, eyebrows raised.

"Well, what do you make of that?"

"I haven't the foggiest."

Nearing Midnight

Hermione:

She didn't want to talk about it. She didn't want to think about it.

All of them were silent and somber as they walked back up the castle steps and through the halls, separating as they each reached their destinations. Hermione felt like a ghost as she floated through the hallways and finally the Slytherin common room. She noticed that some people were still up, waiting and curious, but ignored them and only nodded to Dean who moved to the boy's dormitories.

Malfoy was waiting for her on the sofa by the fire, and he leapt to his feet when she entered. She was dirty and covered in bloodstains and other things she couldn't even name, but she didn't want to think about it. She felt herself move to the sofa and plop down into the seat. She could see the fire flickering but was unable to focus on the flames.

"I don't want to talk about it," she muttered.

Malfoy slowly sat down next to her, as if he were afraid of her or something. Then she felt his hand on hers and startled- before realizing that he was attempting to take her wand away and put it down. She let him disarm her. She hadn't even noticed that she'd still held it as though she'd expected to have to fire another spell any second. She felt him relax as soon as the wand was on the table, and why could she feel him but couldn't feel herself?

"Alright… can you tell me if everyone came back alive?"

"Yes."

"But you don't want to talk about it?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Very well then."

Several things then happened at once. He waved his wand in her direction and suddenly she felt much cleaner, then her shoes popped off her feet and her clothes transfigured themselves into something close to what she had worn to sleep the night before. Then Winky appeared with hot chocolate and some sandwiches- Hermione hadn't even heard him call for her. Why was Draco Malfoy able to call and command her house elf?

"She will listen to anyone who is interested in taking care of you, it's part of their nature. Right now it appears that that person would be me."

He had answered her question… had she asked that out loud without realizing it?

"Yes, you did. You've been doing quite a bit of talking actually, but I believe we aren't talking about it. Now, if you would like to stop narrating everything that's happening and potentially embarrassing yourself even more, you need to eat this and then we are going to bed."

She wasn't sure if it was the fact that all her decisions we being made for her and that obeying required no thought on her part, or that she truly just trusted Draco, but she found herself doing exactly what he said. He was kind of sweet when he acted like this, although she didn't even want to analyze the whole 'we are going to bed' statement because that just led to whole other terrifying avenues and nope, no thank you, we do not need to be investigating her complicated feelings towards Draco this evening.

She heard Draco choke behind her, "Oh god, please stop talking!"