I'd like to thank Purplehanded for the encouragement and the informed yet slightly misled guesses to the prophecy's grey area. On with the story.
Disclaimer: Not mine! Well just the ideas, but neither the Harry Potter series or franchise.
...
-Casualties of Peace-
September nineteenth.
She was officially eighteen this Sunday. She was a legal adult in both the Muggle World and Wizarding World. Though, her excitement for turning eighteen didn't come close to her excitement when she reached seventeen; that magical number that allowed her to practice magic outside of school without consequence.
Per their routine, Harry and Ron presented her both chocolates—white chocolate truffles with raspberry filling, her favorite, yum—and three books—Advanced Spells for the Advanced, a History; Advanced Spells for the Advanced, an encyclopedia; and Advanced Spells for the Advanced, for Practical Use all by Adam Vance, a series about which she casually hinted to them.
Harry hugged her tightly, provoking a hostile glare from Ginny. Fortunately, Hermione diffused the situation by quickly breaking apart from him. Though outwardly displeased at her girlhood crush's actions, Ginny mischievously slipped Hermione a discreet brown paper package which contained Fred and George's Patented Daydream Charm for whenever she needed to 'slip away' during any one of her friends' Quidditch talks. Hermione whispered an awkward thanks and calmed Ginny's fears by reassuring her there was nothing between her and Harry.
Though their friendship came by simple association (she was the best friend of Harry, Ginny's perpetual crush, and of Ron, Ginny's brother), she and Ginny enjoyed a comfortable friendship. Close friends, but not best friends. Unfortunately, Ginny was a tad bit jealous whenever Harry was around any girls, this included Hermione.
Ron attempted to overstep his boundaries and leaned in for a kiss (she considered this a lapse—multiple lapses—of judgment) which she deftly dodged. It seems she had the sudden urge to bend down and pick up a microscopic piece of wrapping paper. She went so far as to pretend to be offended by his accusations of avoidance by claiming that it was for the House Elves. For once, Ron wisely shut his mouth not wanting to incur another lecture about her project S.P.E.W she had long given up on, but not its ideals mind you. She still viciously and passionately objected to the abuse and exploitation of magical creatures.
Ron had clearly gotten over her rebuff of him, but maintained hopeful in her eventual acceptance of him. Since Ron was her friend; although sometimes she wondered if Ron would have kept on insulting her had it not been for the troll in first year; she didn't want to hurt him. However, it was hard not to when she became exasperated with her efforts to make him realize that they were incompatible. Though she showed certain distaste for Lavender, she had to confess that she would be content if Ron would reciprocate Lavender's obvious, but genuine, feelings.
She wished him happiness. That had in fact been her birthday wish—for the three of them to be happy.
Her other friends wished her a simple 'Happy Birthday' and bought her bewitched cake, charmed to applaud and sing a birthday song when she entered a room should a even a slice or crumb of cake be present. As a joke, Harry left a bit of crumb in every room of the Gryffindor Tower… though the joke did get old quickly once her birthday passed and Harry couldn't remember where the crumbs were. It took her days to get every last bit and now she was free to walk into a room without having a song sung to her or the sounds of a crowd cheering for her.
Yes, it had been the normalcy—she used the term as loosely as she could consider she was a witch— of time spent with friends she craved for since that happened; she really did prefer to refer to what happened between her and Malfoy as that. It was much easier on her mind.
x
Upon a seemingly secluded cloud, Mark spent his time watching Hermione, seeing how she had progressed since she left him. There was a knotted kink in the pit of his stomach, wondering if she would choose the same path again only for everything he wished didn't happen happen again before his very eyes.
He perked up a bit, watching the projected image intently. His object of affection closed her eyes for a moment and made a wish.
She wished that she and her friends would be happy.
Oh his sweet Hermione. Live longer and choose the right path, the one that he wanted her to take.
When Mark had first brought Hermione to Heaven, Fate was enraged that he had brought Hermione to Heaven, interrupting her following reincarnation's tapestry, the medium with which the three Fates meticulously planned out a lifetime of events for a single person.
Mark had known that her time with him was short and thus decided to visit the three Fates despite common sense; once again irrational behavior did not suit him. He pleaded with them to fix her destiny; he complained that it was all wrong for her. This further angered the Fates.
They claimed to never make a mistake. They claimed that nothing was wrong with her the tapestry they wove for her, that it was what they planned. That nothing deviated from what they had been set in the tapestry. He pathetically brought up that he had interfered, which should make a difference. And they had the gall to sneer at him; it was in life which they dealt, not in afterlife.
However, they grudgingly admitted that each tapestry they wove was double-stitched in the events where free will would dictate. Warning him not to attempt to disturb her tapestry or any other of her reincarnations, the Fates quickly removed him from their presence.
This was what gave him hope. Free will, free will would determine whether or not she would truly be happy in her current life. Mark was sure that love had blinded Hermione from rational feelings and he was sure that if she had been thinking rationally, she never would have chosen to die early. And as any man in love would do, he would do whatever it took to make her happy.
Love was irrational. There were many displays of irrational love; both he and Hermione became irrational when it involved love. If only the Council members had refrained on keeping watch over him for a single second, he would be down on Earth rescuing her from herself.
He often thought about visiting her to help her think properly before deciding (damn you, accursed irrationality of Love!), warn her not to repeat her fatal mistake, persuade her to freely choose the right path.
And after she lived her life happily—what he considered as happiness, not what she felt under the love's blindfold—he would be reborn alongside her. As an angel, he had a choice whether or not to be reborn and since he couldn't be reincarnated in her present life—as it would be pointless to have an eighteen year difference between them—he had appealed to the Council to have him reborn with her in her next life. Not able to reject any angel's wish to be reborn, the Council reluctantly approved his wish.
Mark was empathetic towards the Ronald Weasley that was forever a friend, never to be recognized as a lover. So much like himself, but at least the Weasley fellow got to stay by her side. He rectified his earlier thoughts; he was both empathetic and jealous.
He sighed and the images dissipated. His eyes darted to check his surroundings.
"Hello, Mark."
"Hello, Council Elder."
He sighed once more.
x
September ended, bringing a slight, but not yet unbearable chill to the air. October rolled around and the chill continued, gradually increasing in intensity.
The weeks following her birthday had been everything but normal, Hermione had noticed a distinct pattern as to how she and Malfoy were paired up whenever an assignment or project required partners. It was hard not to notice when there was an uncomfortable silence between them since that Monday.
She wanted to voice her speculations to Malfoy on their professors' behaviors, but she was admittedly ashamed to face him. Instead, she sighed whenever their names were called one after the other.
One particular Friday afternoon in her Muggle Studies class with Professor Burbage, she sighed. Apparently the sigh sparked a known truth to come to the forefront of her mind.
Malfoy did not have Muggle Studies!
Quite vehemently, she pointed it out to the Professor with fury as her backup for she had rarely if ever spoken to a Professor in such a way.
She had enough of this… this conspiracy against them as it was awkward enough to share the Head Tower with him, she did not want to be joined to the hip with him, too. It caused her to have the most horrible sensation of guilt whenever she was around him.
Correctly deciding it best to duck out early, Professor Burbage abruptly announced, "Oh well, look at that. Seems you're right. Class dismissed."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, "We just started less than fifteen minutes ago."
"Early dismissal, goodbye." She was gone before her students even made sense of the situation.
Very maturely handled, Professor, Hermione thought derisively.
x
Her heavy footsteps warned the few passersby not currently in class of her mood, and they wisely side-stepped her.
She had to find Malfoy.
Turning a corner, she spotted her target walking quite briskly towards her.
"You, I want to have a word—"
"Malfoys first, Granger."
She glared at him, but allowed him to speak first.
"Now tell me. Why is it that just now Professor Sprout attempted to pair me up with you—and stop me if I'm wrong—when you were having class nowhere near the greenhouse?"
She giggled. It seems that he was having the same problem as she was. It was too much for her to handle in the Malfoy-addled and stressed region of her brain. "Actually, I was having the same problem. Professor Burbage just assigned me to you when, correct me if I'm wrong, you have never once in your life took a Muggle Studies class."
x
He smiled slightly, her laughter was contagious. A real laugh, not the sycophantic laughter he hears when in the presence of other Slytherins who still feared him.
Hermione dropped one of the books she was carrying after exiting the Muggle Studies classroom when her hands clutched to her sides to keep herself from collapsing.
The sudden movement brought him out of his revelry, and he had a sudden realization. He was talking to her. He vowed that he wouldn't. He vowed to avoid her until school was over. Hell, until as late in their life as possible.
Carefully masking his emotions, he turned around and began walking away.
x
Hermione was clutching her sides letting a book fall to the ground, her eyes focused on ground before her laughing at the stupidity of it all. That was until she saw Malfoy's immaculate dress shoes moving away from her.
She righted herself and did something more stupid than their predicament. She grabbed his left forearm to stop him from getting completely away.
Malfoy stopped and looked at her hand and back at her.
She paled and let go as if something had shocked her. Of course, she had to pick that arm.
x
Draco Malfoy was hurt, genuinely hurt.
"It really isn't there, you know," he whispered.
And as if she were telling him her deepest secret, she met and held his gaze and whispered back using that famous Gryffindor courage, "I want to believe you."
They silently agreed that any future projects that they were paired up for would be done separately with minimal contact and minimal conversation.
He walked away once more and this time she let him.
His truce with her was supposed to bring them closer together not keep them apart.
…
Crucial chapter, as was the last one.
Now you know which life she chose before she got that second chance (why? to do what?), if you read between the lines.
Merlin, I'm being downright .:cryptic:.. Stick with it and all the loose ends, old and new, will be tied.
If you have any questions about the story, feel free to ask, and I'll try to clear it up for you.
Thank you to all the reviewers. Your words really do affect me. If you like the story, it makes me want to update faster (just a hint), though other things might get in the way of me doing so.