A/N: Thought I'd be nice and write and post you all one last chapter before Easter Break. There's a lot that gets covered in this chapter and it moves pretty fast so bear with me. Very light Ron bashing. Sorry if you like him, I think he's a twat.

Thank you ever so much for the wonderful reviews :D I am always grateful for constructive criticism, and of course your support. Have a safe and happy Easter, to those who celebrate it. I will be back with more of this story for you next week :) as always, reviews are more than welcome xxx

Disclaimer: I do not own or make profit from this, everything recognisable is JK Rowling's wonderful work.

Song: Hear Me Now – Secondhand Serenade
Lyrics: All I can say/ Is I am not afraid/ Of the world that I have tried to push away/ I fight everyday/ But I am to blame/ I am not innocent/ But I am not afraid…

Chapter Five: Rebuilding

There was a lot of backlash from the articles printed the next day. Draco had received letters from family acquaintances imploring him "not to continue his relationship with the mudblood, lest he sully his family's name further". Harry and Hermione had both received a multitude of howlers and letters from various people who thought they had input into their lives yet barely knew them. Hermione also, finally, received her first correspondence from Ron.

Hermione,

How could you? You've betrayed us all. I thought you were meant to be the smart one of us, but you and now Harry have accepted Malfoy as if you've forgotten all the shit he put us through. I can't believe you'd do this to us.

I thought I'd give you space after our fight about Malfoy. I thought it would do you good to clear your head and get away to the muggle world for a while. Then once you'd found yourself again, you'd come back to me and we could start our relationship like we were meant to. Now I can see that the only reason you left me was to be with him. How long has this been going on for, Mi? I sincerely hope he hasn't poisoned you with a love potion, but it seems to be the only explanation I can reasonably come up with that would make you allow a Death Eater to hold your hand.

The press has been hounding me if I step out of the Burrow's borders. They're asking me questions about Malfoy, making me out to be unforgiving and cruel. How could you slander my image like that, Hermione?

I hope you come to your senses soon and realise he's Death Eater scum before he decides to murder you.

-Ron

P.S. Ginny said she hopes the shag was worth losing your only family.

Hermione felt tears prick her eyes. It wasn't so much the accusations that Ron was flinging at her, but the realisation that their trio had lost a member. Hermione wasn't going to stop her friendship with Draco, and Ron would never accept it. This letter was the final nail in the coffin. Adding to that Ginny's tacked on postscript, she felt like the breath had been knocked from her.

"Harry," Hermione began, showing him the letter, "I'm sorry about Ginny."

Harry growled deep in his throat, reading over the letter thrice before passing it to Draco before she could stop him.

"Ginny doesn't matter to me anymore. She showed her true colours when she sided with Ron. You'll just have to play my wingwoman for a bit longer and defend me from the gold diggers." Harry responded somewhat playfully. He seemed angry, but he had long since accepted that his love for Ginevra Weasley died when she would not forgive.

Draco scanned through the letter, noting Ron's anger directed at her through jealousy and representation of his own personal image. He didn't seem to care for her wellbeing, besides the line about Draco murdering her, and even that seemed as though he hoped it would happen so he could gloat. He also realised that they had been fighting about him before their breakup. Draco had suspected as much, but never asked Hermione about it, unsure whether it was a touchy subject or if she wanted to talk about him. Finally, he read the postscript, colouring slightly, but eyes burning with fire.

"She's wrong." Malfoy said quietly.

"Well obviously, we haven't shagged." Hermione blushed.

Draco coughed a little and shook his head, "No, I mean about losing your family. We're right here."

Hogwarts, under the instruction of the new Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, had been under reconstruction since the week after the war had ended. Teams of highly skilled witches and wizards meticulously worked their way from the bottom to the top, replacing walls, classroom objects, portraits that had been stored, and even relocating a few confused magical creatures. As it neared September, Minerva had placed a notice out, explaining that the year would commence following the Christmas Break, as not all reparations had been finalised, and there were many more enchantments that had to be placed upon the grounds before she allowed students to safely return.

The Prophet read:

Due to the exclusion of half a year's worth of curriculum, those students from first to fourth year will have shorter exams at the regularly scheduled time in early June, however it is advised for those in fifth year and above to continue their schooling into the vacation, sitting their exams at the end of July, with results being sent in the first week of August. The O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s will be standardised as seen fit when the time for the exams comes, however it is imperative that all the curriculum is covered, especially when considering future careers.

Surprisingly, months after the notice, Hermione had received a letter in her mailbox with the Hogwarts crest stamped perfectly on the back in scarlet red wax. She broke open the seal and read the letter from McGonagall, inviting her to continue her schooling and take her N.E.W.T.s. No sooner had she finished reading the valediction, than her mobile phone buzzed in her pocket.

"Did you get a letter?" Draco asked excitedly on the other line.

"Good morning to you too, Draco." Hermione responded. "I am well, thank you for asking, how are you?"

"Oh cut the act, Mi." Draco chastised playfully, "I know that you're just as eager to discuss this as I am."

Hermione pondered whether to continue with her charade, but her willpower broke, "Fine, I'm incredibly excited. I was hoping to finish my schooling before I chose a career. Since the war I've had several offers from different Ministry departments, but I don't really know what I want to do. Going back to Hogwarts will be difficult, but will also hopefully make my choices a little easier." Hermione paused, "What about you, Draco?"

Draco was silent for a long moment and she thought he might have hung up, before he finally answered her. "Hermione, I can't practice magic for another four and a half years. I don't think I'd be able to go to Hogwarts to finish my schooling, whether I wanted to or not. Besides that, who would want to hire an ex-Death Eater like me, especially with Weasley vehemently leading a riot against anything I do."

Hermione sighed, feeling the sympathy rise in her once again. Then she smiled, "I know what to do."

"What do you-" Draco began.

She turned on the spot and was instantly in Draco's kitchen, almost landing directly on top of him as he moved to tidy his breakfast dishes. He jumped at her apparition and caught her as she stumbled into him. Strong arms held her small frame upright and her hands came to his chest. She looked up into his eyes, a hint of something there that she'd never seen before.

"Thanks." Hermione whispered as she righted herself.

"Thanks for inviting yourself over." Draco smirked. "Now what was this brilliant plan of yours that was so urgent that you had to apparate into my arms?"

Hermione didn't think she could turn a deeper shade of red. She wasn't uncomfortable with Draco's subtle flirting anymore. At first she thought she was imagining the innuendo. Now, after a month of subtle touches, winks, and the odd sexual quip, Hermione was almost certain that Draco was trying to flirt with her on purpose. The only thing she didn't know was why.

She coughed to regain some composure, "I'm taking you to the Ministry for an appeal."

"They won't give us that, Hermione." Draco looked downcast.

"I'm not asking them to allow you to use magic for the next five years, all I'm saying is that we send Professor McGonagall a letter, detailing that you would like to come back to Hogwarts to finish off your schooling, but there are obvious constraints on your magic. We ask her permission to go to the Ministry to appeal your case, asking that you are allowed your wand during class-time only, and that it be locked away in her office at all other times under her own protection spells. This shifts the authority to McGonagall, which the Ministry should appreciate as Headmistress of Hogwarts. She had ethics and morals to uphold, and she wouldn't go against the law, potentially risking you going to Azkaban, nor would she deny you the right to an education. I do believe you were one of the brightest students in your year." Hermione was breathless, her plan forming before her eyes.

Draco looked hesitant, not yet willing to share in her Gryffindor optimism. "What if she says no?"

"She won't." Hermione eyed him, "She sent you that letter for a reason, Draco. That letter is your second chance ticket out of here."

"What if I don't want to go back to Hogwarts?" He asked half-heartedly.

"Are you scared?" Hermione asked tentatively. He was still finding it hard to open up about his emotions, but he was getting better every day.

"No, I'm not afraid of the Wizarding World. I'm not afraid of going back to an education." Draco sighed and looked away from her, "I'm afraid of the people. In the muggle world no one knows me. I can walk the street alone and I'm just another guy. I can walk the street openly with you and no one hurls curses at us. In Hogwarts it'll be different. I'm scared of that. I'm scared to face them and have to admit what I've done to every child I've hurt with my role in the war."

Hermione placed a gentle hand on his arm, brown eyes melting into his guarded silver obs. She didn't need to say she'd be there for him, it was unspoken. She didn't need to say she'd fight to her last breath for him, he knew. She didn't need to tell him how much she cared, because he saw it in those glistening brown eyes. There was nothing she could say to him that would stop his fear, but she hoped her support would help him through it all.

"I'm afraid, too." Hermione said quietly, "The Wizarding World hasn't changed so much that everyone's stopped calling me mudblood, suddenly. Adding to that my current status as a 'war hero', I feel more alienated than ever. I can't judge which of my friends is true, who has my best interests at heart, and who only stayed in my life because we won and I'm suddenly famous. I can't trust anyone."

Draco listened quietly. She hadn't opened up to him much since they'd first started talking. He knew everything about her, and yet nothing too deep. He understood. He had trust issues too.

She chuckled harshly, "The perks of being Hermione Granger. Having your life scrutinised every last second. Reporters write think pieces on how I decided to wear my hair on a particularly cold day. Acquaintances grip my arm in the street so they can get free shit from struggling businesses. My best friend can't accept my life." She sighed, "People think that because we won, I have my life put together and laid out in front of my eyes, but I don't. I still wake up screaming to nightmares every day of my life; no amount of Dreamless Sleep Draught can stop them. I don't allow myself out of the house alone past dark because of what could be lurking in the shadows. I can't bare my arms, no matter how sunny and warm the day is. I have scars that I'm ashamed of too, Draco."

Draco admitted to himself, he'd never thought about the life of a 'war hero' quite like how Hermione had described it. He stereotyped it in the way that most would, and he kicked himself for thinking that she was this stereotype – Hermione Granger was never a stereotype. She revealed so much to him in just that short space of time, and she was so vulnerable. She said she didn't trust anyone, but it was clear to Draco that he and Harry were the only people that she could truly be herself with.

"Hermione," Draco started.

She looked tormented, remembering nightmares of the past, but nodded at him to continue.

He didn't know what possessed him to do it. Draco breathed deeply and, without taking his eyes from hers, rolled his left shirt sleeve to his elbow. He then took her left arm, where he knew his deranged aunt had carved the derogatory word into her flesh, and proceeded to slowly roll her sleeve up too, never taking their eyes from one another, gauging each other's reactions.

Hermione broke eye contact first. She looked down at the Dark Mark marring Draco's white skin. It had turned into a faded looking scar.

"When he died, the Mark burnt itself off my skin." Draco explained to her. "I don't wear it out because when people see it, they hiss. They don't need the reminder that I was evil. They already know it when they see me. When I wear it out, they assume I'm proud of it. They're wrong. I never wanted the Mark. I was forced to take the Mark by my father, who told me that the Dark Lord would kill mother if I didn't. He was lying. He wanted me to take it so I would be the youngest member of the Death Eaters, he himself climbing higher in the ranks of followers. He knew I would be useful within Hogwarts and used my mother against me to further his own agenda. He used me, his own son."

She looked mortified at that and gently took his arm, bringing it closer to her face and tracing the ridges where the skull and serpent were visible with her fingertips, brushing over them lightly. In turn, Draco looked down at her scar. The angry letters of the word 'MUDBLOOD' were a faded red, carved into her porcelain skin.

"I'm not ashamed of the word. I find that being called a mudblood empowers me now. I'm ashamed of how it makes me look: weak. People don't look at my face when I have this out. People see the scar and then all I see is pity, or agreeance. There's never an in between." Hermione returned an explanation. "This scar was the cause of a lot of nightmares. I used to see the scene played over and over in my head. I'm finding it easier to deal with now though." She looked up hesitantly, as if she isn't sure whether to tell him or not. Draco remained silent, eyes still fixed on her scar, hands gently caressing the skin around the jagged letters.

"When the nightmare happens now, I find I can pull myself out of it." Hermione continued, looking anywhere but him, "Since we've become friends, I've seen new details in the scene. You're there," He flinched at that. Hermione's torture still haunted his nightmares too. She went on, "and I see your eyes. I feel comforted. I know that it'll be fine." She paused, "I've stopped screaming when I wake up after this nightmare. You've helped me far more than you know, Draco."

Draco didn't know what to say. He lifted their arms, and turned them towards each other, gripping Hermione's elbow and she his, joining their scars together. It was a powerful moment, neither of them saying a word. Death Eater and mudblood, faded scars of the past. Draco bowed his head until their foreheads were pressed against each other. Their eyes were closed, silent tears leaking from their eyes as they soaked in this moment together. That's what they needed, solace within each other.

The only way to move forward is through forgiveness.

It was a few weeks before Draco received a summons to the Ministry. He informed Hermione, who had told Harry. On the day of his summons, Hermione and Draco took public transport to the muggle entrance of the Ministry, meeting Harry in the foyer as he had taken the floo. Hermione hadn't wanted to risk Draco's sentence being revoked for convenience in the Floo Network or side-along apparition. As they walked towards the elevators, Hermione in the middle, her arms linked through both her companions beside her, they drew the stares of everyone in the Ministry. She supposed it wasn't every day that you'd see Draco Malfoy (ex-Death Eater) and Harry Potter (The Boy Who Lived) in the same place, held together by Hermione Granger (brightest witch of her age). The papers would have a field day with this, but they were prepared this time. No one was making a statement today, with the trio not wanting other students to know that Draco was going back to school, nor Hermione. Both had enemies and neither wanted them to know just how to plan their demise.

Draco was nervous as he stepped into the Ministry elevators, sandwiched between Hermione and an older man who looked as if he couldn't be out of there sooner. Hermione sensed his nerves and reached for his hand, gripping it tightly in her own and squeezing for reassurance. She tiptoed to whisper in his ear and he leaned down to help her.

"You're going to be great today, Draco. We've got this." Hermione smiled the most dazzling smile Draco had ever seen and he believed her. All that Gryffindor optimism was obviously rubbing off on him.

As they entered the courtroom, they noticed that the chill in the air had lessened slightly, since the last of the mass Death Eater trials. There were no longer weeks of sitting in a freezing courtroom, surrounded only by despair. With an impending sense of déjà vu, Hermione, Harry and Draco stepped into the centre of the room. Draco took a seat as Hermione and Harry moved to the side with one last reassuring squeeze from Hermione's hand, and a clap on the back from Harry. A second seat was laid out but remained empty for now.

Dorian Smyth whisked his way in following his court and furrowed his brow at the empty chair. As he made to take his seat, the door opened and Minerva McGonagall entered, sitting in the vacant space, to which Smyth seemed pleased.

"We are here today to discuss an altered term of Mr Draco Malfoy's sentencing." Smyth began. "The current sentencing is five years with a ban from the Wizarding World, and without use of magic. Mr Malfoy has currently served six months and two weeks, and is here today to reach an agreement whereby he can return to Hogwarts to complete his education."

Smyth took a long draw from a glass of water before he continued. "The terms given to us are as follows: use of magic only in class-time, wand to be kept locked and warded by Professor Minerva McGonagall at all other times; no visitation rights to Hogsmeade, due to his ban on the Wizarding World, which would exclude Hogwarts for the purpose of education; holidays are to be spent either in the Hogwarts castle without access to his wand or use of magic, or in Mr Malfoy's current address in muggle London. These terms would be executed from the commencement of the school year, first of January, until the end of the N.E.W.T.s, end of July, at which stage Mr Malfoy's wand will return to Ministry possession and a further review will be conducted to assess Mr Malfoy's career ambitions."

Smyth looked down his nose at Draco, "Are these terms accepted by all parties in question?"

Draco nodded in the affirmative whilst McGonagall stated a simple, "Yes."

"Are these terms accepted by the court?" Smyth turned to the gathered law enforcement, a representative of whom spoke in the affirmative for the collective.

"The court has ruled in favour of Mr Malfoy's amendments. The changes to sentence will begin on the first of January." Smyth stood and the court processed out.

Hermione leapt from her seat and allowed her legs to carry her as fast as she could towards Draco, leaping into his arms in a victorious hug. McGonagall didn't seem shocked, but instead made a mental note of this, planning the year ahead.

"It's good to see you, Professor." Hermione smiled as she detached herself from a somewhat stunned-looking Draco. She wasn't sure what the expression on his face meant, but she took it to be overall positive.

"Likewise, Miss Granger." McGonagall peered over her nose at the young girl, "Whilst I have you here, I would like to informally offer you the role of Head Girl this year. You will, of course, get a letter in your post shortly."

Hermione's eyes lit up like she'd been handed a puppy at Christmas, but then her smile faltered. She looked to Draco, who smiled at her encouragingly, and then to Harry, who was slowly making his way to the centre. "I'm going to have to respectfully decline, Professor. As much as it has been a lifelong dream of mine to be Head Girl, I think I should focus on myself and my studies this year. I'd appreciate it if there was as little attention drawn to me as possible."

McGonagall had understanding in her eyes, "Of course, dear." She turned her gaze upon Harry as he approached, "Mr Potter, are you and Mr Weasley both returning to Hogwarts?"

"We are, Professor. Turns out you need to have five N.E.W.T.s of at least 'Exceeds Expectations' to become an Auror, who would've thought." Harry smiled mischievously at his old head of house. "You're not getting rid of us that easily."

This was news to Hermione. She knew, of course, that Harry was returning, being the one to encourage him to finish his education rather than accept a mediocre position of employment in the Ministry to use him as a poster boy that he wouldn't have enjoyed, instead encouraging him to pursue his dreams of becoming an Auror. She hadn't expected Ron to return as well. The Ron she knew would have accepted any job that thrust him into the limelight, preening in front of cameras and putting on a show. He had found his footing in the world, stepping out from Harry Potter's shadow, but happy to ride his coattails to fame and use him to further his own name. She was suspicious and apprehensive of seeing him, unsure of where their relationship lay – friendship or otherwise. Draco sensed the change in her disposition and subtly gripped her hand. She knew he was there with her, every step of the way. That's what scared her even more.

After departing the Ministry, the three friends decided to have a celebratory dinner and drinks. As Draco wasn't allowed in the Wizarding World, Harry had taken the liberty of purchasing a case of Butterbeer and two bottles of Ogden's finest Firewhiskey. Hermione and Draco picked up a veritable smorgasbord of Italian food from a restaurant around the corner from Hermione's house, and the three of them feasted on veal cutlets, spinach and ricotta cannelloni, and pizza covered in four different types of Italian salami, with tiramisu for dessert.

By the end of the night, all three of them were in various dishevelled states, slurring their words, lying around Hermione's lounge room.

"I don' think, hic, you should go home 'night, Draco." Hermione stated from her place on the couch. "You're drunk!"

"You're one to talk, Mi-nee." Draco responded, sitting up from his position on the floor. "You are more drunker than me."

"Well while you two, hic, have your lover's spat," Harry interjected, standing and swaying for a moment, "I'mma go to bed."

"G'night Harry!" The other two chorused.

"Alright, Granger," Draco opted for her surname, it was easier to pronounce when thoroughly sloshed, "Where can I sleep?"

Hermione blinked at him for a moment, almost unseeing, then a brilliant grin erupted on her face, "Why with me, of course!"

Draco stared at her as if she had gone mental, "What?" he asked.

"Harry has the spare bed, and I don't want you to sleep on the couch, because I don't have enough blankets, and it's cold." Hermione stated childishly.

"Can't you just use the magic or something?" Draco asked, sobering up by the second at the prospect of sleeping with Hermione Granger.

"I'm too drunk for that, Draco. You just said that." Hermione giggled. The alcohol was in her brain, but she wasn't thinking irrationally.

Finally Draco relented, and she stood from the couch, grasping his hand and pulling him with her to her bedroom. She turned to her dresser and pulled out an oversized t-shirt and a pair of black, skin-tight hot shorts, then proceeded to head into her en suite to change. When she came out, Draco was taken aback and his breath caught in his throat. The baggy shirt hung halfway off one of her shoulders, covering the upper half of her right thigh. Her shorts left nothing to the imagination, as her left leg was in full view. She was absolutely stunning. He stepped towards her, but caught himself, not wanting to take advantage of her whilst inebriated, even in his own state.

Hermione pouted at him, "Aren't you going to change too? Surely you can't sleep in that suit."

Draco felt self-conscious, and turned away from her. He slowly unbuttoned his dress shirt, turning around to see Hermione staring at his exposed skin, leaving him feeling even more self-aware.

"Er, do you have anything I could borrow to sleep in?" He asked, hopeful that Harry had left some clothes here.

Hermione returned to her drawers and threw him a pair of loose grey shorts, "Sorry I don't have any shirts. I generally shrink them and use them myself if Harry leaves anything here."

Draco shifted uncomfortably. He was seriously considering sleeping on the couch in his full suit. A chill swept through a crack in the windowpane and Draco was defeated. He stalked into the bathroom and donned the shorts in place of his trousers. When he emerged, Hermione hadn't moved, instead, she turned to look at him. Her eyes grew sad, and she stepped towards him, a hand outstretched. She looked into his eyes for permission as she stood just one pace away from him, both bathed in the moonlight from her window. Draco's eyes betrayed hesitation. He was scared. Hermione took that and stepped forward, closing the gap, her eyes fixed on his torso, tracing the scars she found with feather-light fingertips. She moved her way around his body, tracing each scar with the same gentle caress, leading her back to his chest. She settled her hand over his heart and stepped impossibly closer to him, wrapping the other arm around him in an embrace. Draco was no longer self-conscious. She treated his scars with reverence and love. She healed him with each touch. Hermione Granger was mending his soul. He enveloped her in his own arms, watching her nuzzle closer to him.

Draco lead the pair to Hermione's bed. As he settled in, she moved to lay on him, pulling his arm around her, her head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. Draco placed his hand protectively on her arm and pulled her closer. He knew right then and there that he had fallen for her, hard.

They fell asleep together, just like that. Neither of them had nightmares of the torments of the past. It was the best night of sleep either of them had had since the war.