A/N: Firstly, the thank yous - to azakiel, TheGirlWhoIsInLoveWithJapan, & Artemis-Max-Katniss-McLean for follows/favorites, & to Guest, Amanda, & SuperPotterWhoLockedDancer for the reviews. (Sorry, no spare Dracos here...& I'm a Ravenclaw myself, but I respect all houses - as Harry pointed out in ch. 13, we're all a little bit of everything. ;-) )

I loved writing this chapter - I was originally going to do this completely differently, but then Hermione's idea came to mind & I just had to go with it. Hope you like it! JKR owns all but the plot, & all wand-related information comes from Pottermore. Please R&R, & enjoy! :)

Draco's holidays were, for the most part, uneventful. He had Christmas dinner with his parents, but none of them spoke much during the meal, and he spent the majority of the remaining time in his rooms. The only exception was at the very start of break - immediately upon his arrival at the Manor, Draco went to his father's study, where he knew he'd find a box of miscellaneous items they'd collected throughout the war. He'd rifled through the box's contents several times previously, so he knew there were a few wands amongst the possessions. He was surprised the Ministry hadn't confiscated the box - he knew for a fact they'd searched the Manor more than once since the war ended - but perhaps they'd overlooked it. In any case, the presence of the box made things a lot easier. His father wasn't in the study at the time, for which Draco was glad - Lucius had sobered up quite a bit since the trial, but Draco wasn't entirely sure how much the elder Malfoy's views had really changed, if at all, and he had no desire to answer potentially awkward questions as to why he wanted the wands. There were five in the box, and as at least two looked like they could be the one he sought, he took them all.

The next step was easy - the Ministry official in charge of overseeing the Malfoys' sentences had promised Draco a trip to Diagon Alley over the holidays so that he could visit Gringotts and restock any depleted school supplies, so he sent a letter to the man, requesting that the visit take place as soon as possible. He received a response in the affirmative that evening, and two days later, the official arrived to escort Draco to the Leaky Cauldron. Draco refilled his moneybag at Gringotts and visited the apothecary, then made his way to Ollivander's.

Draco was rather apprehensive about this last important stop, and for good reason - the wandmaker had spent the better part of the past year imprisoned in the Manor's basement, tortured and starving. He hadn't really understood why until Harry had told the story of the Elder wand at the trial, but once he'd heard the tale, Draco was shocked the old man had survived - when the Dark Lord wanted something that badly, he didn't play nicely to get it. A little bell chimed overhead as he entered the dimly lit shop, and Mr. Ollivander, who'd been sitting behind his counter, looked up.

"Ah - Mr. Malfoy." The wandmaker sounded slightly hesitant but did not demand that Draco leave, which the younger wizard took as a good sign. "What can I do for you?"

"I was hoping you could identify these for me," Draco replied, producing the five unknown wands from his pocket and placing them on the counter. Mr. Ollivander put on a pair of thin silver spectacles and picked up each wand carefully. The first two he pronounced the property of people who were now dead, and Draco didn't recognize the name of the third wand's owner, but the fourth caught his attention.

"Ah, yes," Mr. Ollivander said, smiling slightly. "This one, I know well. This wand belonged to Miss Granger."

"Granger - as in, Hermione Granger?" Draco inquired, trying not to sound too interested.

"Yes, of course. Ten and three-quarter inches, vinewood and dragon heartstring. A very special wand indeed - but then, as I'm sure you remember, the wand chooses the wizard, after all. It was an exceptional match - pity she replaced it."

"But this is still her wand, is it not?" Draco asked.

"I sense you know something about this wand - do you happen to know the exact manner in which Miss Granger lost it?"

"If you're asking whether I was present when she lost it, the answer is no," Draco said. "I'm assuming the Snatchers who caught her Disarmed her."

"Hmm...how much do you know about wandlore, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Not all that much, to be honest - why do you ask?"

"Wands are incredibly complex pieces of equipment. They form a bond with their owners, but that bond can be broken by force - Disarming someone can, in some cases, be enough to do just that. However, some bonds are stronger than others, and vinewood wands in particular are incredibly attached to their rightful owners. Given Miss Granger's rather formidable capabilities, I have no doubt that this wand would function as she knows it to were she to get it back." Draco was silent for a moment as he processed the information.

"Is that what happened with my wand, then?" he asked.

"Ah, yes, your wand. Ten inches, hawthorn and unicorn hair, wasn't it?" Draco nodded. "Yes, that is indeed what happened - as I understand it, Mr. Potter physically took your wand, along with two others, from you, which caused your wand to change allegiance – a change which, if I also understand correctly, allowed Mr. Potter to walk away from the final battle alive." Draco nodded again, rather uncomfortably this time. It was uncanny how much the old man knew.

"But I believe you got your wand back?"

"Yes, sir." Draco withdrew it as proof. "After...everything, Potter returned my wand to me. Said something about not needing three wands." Mr. Ollivander chuckled.

"Well, yes...I believe Mr. Potter was more than satisfied with his own wand - no offense to yours, of course, it's a fine one. And is it working well for you then?"

"Yes. He allowed me to Disarm him to ensure the wand's allegiance returned."

"Not entirely necessary, I don't think. Hawthorn wands also tend to bond rather strongly with their original owners - seeing just how well suited you are to that wand, I'm not surprised it recognizes you."

"How do you mean?"

"Wandmaking is an incredibly complex art," Mr. Ollivander said. "The different components commonly – or uncommonly – used all have their own unique properties, as do the trees and animals that supply those components. Hawthorn is an interesting wood, Mr. Malfoy. Very interesting…"

Draco left the shop twenty minutes later with Hermione's wand safely stowed in his cloak and an uneasy feeling that Ollivander had known more about him when he was eleven than he himself did at eighteen.

Draco returned to Hogwarts as soon as he could, if only to escape the monotony of life under house arrest. His dorm mates joined him shortly thereafter, and the common room was filled with amiable chatter once more. Ginny stopped by on her way to Gryffindor Tower to pass along the new Quidditch training schedule – "Next game's coming up soon, can't be too prepared!" – and Blaise and Justin broke out the chess set almost immediately, preparing to add to the ongoing tally they'd tacked to the wall in September. Hermione, Draco noticed, greeted everyone enthusiastically but didn't seem as over the moon as he'd thought she'd be. It was only when she withdrew her wand to Summon something from her dormitory that he realized why.

She's still using her replacement wand.

Draco didn't understand. Why would she be using her replacement wand? Ollivander himself had said that it was a shame she'd lost her first one – if it was so powerful and so attached to her, why wouldn't she use it? Unless…

Was it possible she hadn't received it?

He immediately ruled out delivery failure as the cause – Hermione could have spent the holidays in any number of places, but owls didn't need a specific address to successfully deliver something, and his owl had returned empty-taloned. Unless she'd somehow dropped the package along the way, the delivery wasn't the problem. The idea that he'd sent the wrong wand was ludicrous – Ollivander had never failed to identify a wand, especially not one of his own making, and Draco had left the other four with him at the shop. Equally as ridiculous was the thought that Hermione didn't want her wand back – Draco was an expert at reading people, and it wasn't possible to fake the longing he'd seen in Hermione's eyes when he'd asked her about it.

Draco bounced several more scenarios around in his head, each more impossible than the next, before he gave up. He wasn't going to try to figure out how, but somehow, some way, she hadn't gotten the package. He had to admit he was a little disappointed, what with the upcoming duel in Defense and all, but he acknowledged there was nothing he could do about it.

Classes started up again, their lessons more demanding than ever. The professors reminded them yet again that their N.E.W.T.s would be upon them before they knew it and set them enormous amounts of difficult homework to stress the fact. At any time of day, one or more of the eighth years could be seen bent over a large book in the common room, quill scratching as they attempted to unravel the complex bits of magic they were expected to master. Everyone, even Hermione, asked the professors to clarify concepts in class, and the teenagers often studied in small groups so they could bounce questions off one another.

John and Celia came to Defense class the second Friday in January, and the duels began as promised.

"Each pair will have ten minutes to show us what they can do," Celia reminded them. "The rest of the class will stay against the wall and observe – we'll cast an extra-strength Shield Charm, almost like a barrier, around the perimeter of the room so those who aren't dueling can move around freely to watch without fear of getting hit. All magic save Dark curses is acceptable, as are the physical combat forms we've taught you, but no weapons other than wands are allowed. As these are formal duels versus those of battle, we expect you to follow the proper protocol – bowing and pacing off before beginning, the loser must declare himself accordingly, et cetera. We've arranged to come next week as well so that those pairs who don't get to go today won't have to wait a whole month. Any questions?" When nobody raised their hands, John read off the order of the day's pairs, and Ginny and Luna, who were first, took the floor.

The duels were as varied as those participating in them – some ended in a matter of minutes while others made use of the full time allotted, some were more heavily magical than physical, or vice versa. A minor mishap occurred when one of the seventh years mixed up two incantations and accidentally set the floor on fire, but a quick charm from John's wand doused the flames, and aside from minor cuts and scrapes, nobody was injured. After Neville executed a particularly impressive win over Blaise, it was Draco and Hermione's turn. The pair shucked their outer robes – the oversized sleeves and long hems would just get in the way – before stepping into the magically sealed dueling zone. They met in the exact center of the room, turned back-to-back, and counted seven paces before turning to face each other once more, where they waited for the buzzer that would signal the start of their ten minutes.

The clock started, and both students immediately began firing off spells. Draco had to dodge a couple of Hermione's better-aimed jinxes but otherwise felt himself keeping easy pace with her. Almost too easy, he thought, but he brushed that aside in favor of ducking a jet of blue light heading his way. Any spell that missed its mark would harmlessly dissolve into the magical barrier at the edge of the room – as an observer, this was rather disconcerting to watch, and several people had tried to block oncoming blasts throughout the lesson before realizing that their charms had no effect on the barrier whatsoever, but as a duelist, it meant you didn't have to worry about any spells, whether your own or your partner's, ricocheting off the walls and hitting you from behind.

The duel continued for several minutes, neither party able to gain the upper hand magically nor get close enough to attempt to gain it physically, but finally Draco got his chance. Hermione hesitated for just a split second, and he pounced on the mistake, Disarming her with a flick of his wrist that sent her wand sailing into his outstretched hand. He tossed it aside almost lazily, allowing it to roll beyond the barrier where she couldn't reach it, before crossing his arms and waiting for her next move.

Draco knew Hermione wouldn't try to continue the contest physically, not when he had a wand and she didn't – he wasn't overly tall and had always been more lean than broad, but he still had a good five or six inches on her. What he didn't expect her to do, however, was submit so willingly – she never gave up so easily, and yet here she was, sliding down into the classic stance of a defeated duelist.

But wait…no, she wasn't.

If she'd really been admitting defeat, Hermione should have been down on one knee, hands raised palm-out in surrender and head bowed. She had dropped to a knee, yes, but only one of her hands was raised up, more in a "wait a minute" sort of signal, and her gaze remained upwards. Without once lowering her hand or breaking eye contact with Draco, she slowly unbuttoned her cuff and reached into her sleeve to remove…another wand.

Her wand.

"Oh, you clever, clever girl," Draco whispered, unable to keep the tone of admiration from his voice. The statement was just loud enough that Hermione heard him, and she returned his grin with a satisfied smirk before rolling up her sleeves and jumping to her feet.

The two halves of the duel were like night and day. It became clear to Draco in under a minute that Hermione had merely been toying with him before – the volley of hexes she sent his way was unbelievable, the pace of the duel skyrocketing beyond any he'd ever done before. Blinding lights flew in all directions as the pair darted around the room, creating and exploding obstacles as they dodged each other's spells. The clock signaling the end of their time went off, but nobody really noticed or cared – they weren't about to interrupt such an impressive duel, and considering how focused Hermione and Draco both were, it probably wasn't a good idea to try.

Hermione was drenched with sweat and her hair was falling out of her ponytail, but she didn't stop to fix either – a proper thank-you was her intention, and she meant to see it through. After nearly fifteen minutes of solid dueling, she managed to find a weakness in Draco's Shield Charm and shattered it with a well-placed trip jinx. Before he could react, she Disarmed him, darted forward, and pinned him to the ground, effectively eliminating any chance he had of continuing the contest.

A cheer erupted from the class as Hermione released Draco and stood up, a triumphant expression on her face. Draco rolled over onto one knee and bowed his head, but he was grinning too – he'd asked for the best, and she'd more than given it to him. Hermione's hair was a mess and her face glistened with sweat, but her mood was euphoric, and he could feel the raw magic still racing under her skin when she handed him back his wand. Celia and John praised their performance before dismissing the class, and Hermione and Draco's duel was all anyone talked about as they headed off for showers before dinner.

One thing was for sure – nobody would be forgetting the meeting of hawthorn and vine anytime soon.