All Is Fair

"In love and War"

All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, I did not own those characters or the original story/plot.

Harry came into the great hall. Hermione was sitting on her own down a long table, taking small bites of the food that had been prepared for her. The house elves had just started working again in order to bring more meals to the Great Hall, whereas for the past two weeks or so, there were very few house elves, only creating the minimum needed and sending them up to the different houses. Hermione looked up as Harry entered, giving him an endearing look.

"He hasn't sent any post yet," he answered her silent question.

"That's okay," she replied.

"Look Hermione, I know, I know he cares about you, the way you care about him."

"I'm not sure if that's enough, Harry. After everything that we've all been through, I just thought, I thought we'd finally know what we were. I understand that he should be with his family now, he needs to be, but, I just wonder if it was all just, us being caught up in the moment."

"No, it's not just that. I know that it's been tough, Hermione, but you both care about each other, that's what matters."

"Yeah," she played with the food on her plate, "Have you heard from Ginny?"

He paused for a moment, "Well, yeah. She says that things are looking better as they sort everything out. She says it's been hard though. Everything they've been through, losing a family member like that, and you know, the rest."

"Yeah. I hope they get back to a good place. I know they will. They're tough they are."

"Sure are," Harry replied.

This was probably the quietest that the Great Hall had ever been while there were students there. Granted there weren't many students who'd stuck around but still, the voices were very hush, if there were any at all. There was a sudden silence that fell over everyone. Hermione and Harry look over at the door to see who had just entered. It was Draco Malfoy. Hermione attempted to smile at him. He had yet to come back into the Great Hall, and she was sure she'd been the only person who'd seen him around the school. She didn't think anyone expected a Slytherin to come back so soon. Everyone knew they'd all come back eventually, but now, in their rebuild, not many Slytherins were around to help.

"Malfoy," Harry said, just loud enough for Draco to here.

"Potter," he replied back, without the usual distaste that would sting every word.

Draco walked to the empty Slytherin table and sat there on his own.

"I really didn't think that he'd come back," Harry told Hermione, his eyes still on Draco.

Hermione thought about Draco, and how he'd stayed in the library with her. Nothing had happened, he was just there, which was a little strange. Her hand lightly touched her cheek before she quickly moved it away.

"Why not? I mean, I know that after everything this would probably be the last place he'd want to be, but it is his home as well, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," he paused and looked at Hermione, "It's just, it's Malfoy."

"I know," she replied.

Harry had become awfully silent for the next ten minutes as Hermione flicked through a book on transfiguration that she borrowed from the library.

"I have an idea," Harry stated.

She looked up at him with a quizzical expression.

"We should be celebrating, shouldn't we? I mean, it's now, now is the time to celebrate. He can't come back, and we know it, he's gone, I killed him, we all saw it, yet none of us have really celebrated, have we?"

"I'm not sure if it is the best time, Harry. I understand what you're saying, and I agree that we should be celebrating bu-"

"Then that's it. I have a plan," he smiled, "this will sort things out, it'll make things better, trust me."

And she always did.

Hermione watched Harry leave the great hall and she turned to look at Draco Malfoy, who sat by himself. He looked lost in thought for a moment before his eyes caught Hermione's. She looked away quickly, grabbing her book and leaving the Great Hall. She hurried outside, heading down a corridor towards the stairs, but a hand grabbed her wrist.

"Granger," she knew it would be him.

"Draco," she replied softly. They weren't exactly on a first name basis.

She turned to face him, he didn't let go. His hand was so delicately yet firm against her skin. She felt it strange that his hand was so soft, yet tense at the same time. He stared directly into her eyes, and she felt as though he could see her soul.

"Draco?" there was a twinge of concern in her voice. He didn't move, but his grip weakened slightly.

"Draco," she said again, "I know how you must be feeling, and I know it has to be tough. After the war, after everything. I mean, you were still a jerk, and that sucked, but that doesn't mean I don't understand it. Things change. And you were right. They do, I understand that, and I understand that that must be why you're here, right? You want to change? You saw the errors of your ways, you saw that everything you did wasn't really worth it, and you saw how it turned to nothing. You're looking for a friend, you're looking to change and I completely understand that, Draco."

Her eyes looked up at his with faith. He frowned.

"Shut up, Granger."

His retort was something Hermione should have expected. Just because he didn't give her that same remark last time, didn't mean he wasn't over his faithful retorts. She clenched her jaw, finding that this wasn't the situation she thought it was.

"How could you possibly understand?" his voice raised in anger, but it wasn't a yell or a scream. "You weren't on the same side as me, you didn't go through what I went through. Our pureblood name means nothing, it's been thrown in the dirt, as everything is turned against us now. You wouldn't understand, of course you wouldn't you're nothing but a mudbl-"

He stopped himself. Draco took a deep breath. There was a glint of anger in Hermione's eyes.

"I can't believe this," she sniggered, "nothing has changed, has it, Malfoy? Still calling names. Still valuing your stupid blood status above all else. If you hadn't noticed, whether or not we were all in battle, I still seemed to achieve higher grades than you did, and we were all there to save your snivelling life. Things like that are so trivial, yet you still speak of such a thing like it matters. Do I have to whack you on the nose, Malfoy?"

Things weren't going as either of them had suspected. Though they really didn't know what either of them were going to possibly get out of this interaction.

"Oh please, Granger. This is pathetic."

"Pathetic?" she yelped, "Right, pathetic, that's perfect, Malfoy."

"You started this."

"Started this? Started what? I was trying to show empathy, and you practically spat in my face."

"Well, I'm sure me spitting in your face is probably better than you making out with that weasel on the battlefield."

He hit a soft spot. The annoyance in her eyes changed suddenly to a type of sadness. He could see it. Hermione wasn't always the best at hiding her emotions, and Draco didn't come here to attack her.

"I'm heading to the library to return some books," he gestured to hers, "I know you're done re-reading."

She moved the book towards him and he took it, leaving hastily. She didn't know why she was prepared to have a screaming match with Draco. He was hurt, they all were, and she felt that she was only trying to help. Draco also knew this. He knew that out of all people Hermione knew how to forgive the easiest, no matter how stubborn she could be. And he knew that if he wanted to show that there was even a tinge of peace, then she would be the one to go to. As much as he couldn't withstand her know-it-all bossiness, she was right. He knew that she was just trying to be empathetic, branch out to him, but he burnt the branch, like he did with everybody else. He felt that he was better off being alone than trying. Yes, that felt right to him. He had tried and they both got burnt, he saw it in her eyes and he knew she probably saw it in his. It was stupid anyhow, he thought, trying to be friend the muggle born. She was part of the golden trio, and she was just as stubborn as the rest of them. He was better off just brooding on his own, keeping out of trouble for the rest of the year.

Hermione almost walked into Harry who had been chatting with Neville in the common room, while she was lost in thought. Why did she believe that everything had changed? Perhaps everything was still the same, she thought.

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, "Look, Neville have been talking and he thinks that my idea is great."

"Your idea?" she questioned, playing with her uncoloured nails.

"Yeah, to celebrate. He agrees that we should celebrate. And maybe this way everything will come together."

"Celebrate?" she felt stupid for repeating his words.

"Yeah, we're going to have a celebration, a party. Everyone's welcome, and it'll be great, I'm sure of it."

"Will you have it here?"

"Do you mean in our common room?"

"Yeah."

"I think that'll be great, having a party here," Neville chimed in.

"You guys don't think we should go celebrate in Hogsmeade, outside of Hogwarts?"

"No," Harry replied, "I think Hogwarts is the perfect place to celebrate. Hogwarts is still standing, we need to celebrate that."

"Yeah, I suppose so. But what about the Great Hall? I'm not sure if our common room is the right place."

"Nonsense," Harry shook his head, "There's not a whole lot of us here anyhow, it'll be fine Hermione. I'm sure, Ron will come back to celebrate too."

"It doesn't matter whether he does or doesn't, if you guys think we should celebrate, then I guess we should," she smiled.

"Yeah, I like that," Neville smiled back, "A party."

Barely a few days later, Harry had already figured out a way to decorate the Gryffindor common room ever so slightly to create a party look. He created a small bar off in the corner which was manned by one of the kind house elves who agreed to help out for the night. It was mainly because this particular house elf wanted the night off from cooking up meals, so he was more than happy to stir drinks. Harry felt pretty pleased with himself, not that he thought that after the war had ended, that he would be planning parties, but nonetheless it was all he could think of to bring back some sort of upbeat outlook to Hogwarts. Neville attempted to put some streamers up in the air, and fellow Gryffindors Seamus and Dean had returned just the day before, now helping with the layout of the common room.

Hermione sat on the edge of her bed. She knew full well that down stairs in the common room, a party was going to begin, but she didn't feel like she was quite in a partying mood. She supposed it was because she was over thinking every little thing that had occurred during the battle, and afterwards. She didn't like that she couldn't get over it, that she couldn't move on. She was Hermione Granger, she was brave, strong and smart. She really didn't like that out of all the things she was overthinking, the things that stood out the most were the little glimpses of romance through the battle. The kiss with Ron. She should be focusing on the outcome of the battle. She should be focusing on the fact that she had survived, and that she was here today. Her mind wandered and she thought about Draco for a moment. Her hand touched her cheek, where he had just grazed it with his soft fingers, so delicately, barely touching her but causing her to shiver and yet be comforted at the same time. She frowned. She was just lonely. Draco would continue to mutter the same things he always did, just with a hushed tone now that his ideologies were proven to be outdated. She touched her arm. She remembered Bellatrix. She remembered the pain. She remembered her relation to Draco and how Draco's touch was so different. They are all the same, she stated in her mind, reassuring herself of past thoughts. They are all the same.

She pulled on a red dress. A dress that she had had for a while but never worn, she didn't really have any where to wear it to. The dress went just above her knees, and was form fitting yet comfortable, a perfect fit. She put on her black shoes, that were small heels, as she always looked at the function of shoes. If she wasn't going to be able to run in them, then she wouldn't buy them, it had always been her philosophy. She used her wand to fix her hair, taming it with ease, before taking one last look in the mirror. She inhaled deeply. She could hear the bass of the music downstairs. Harry had brought in muggle speakers but bewitched them to their needs. She could hear the chattering voices, and she knew it was about time she wandered down stairs. It was a celebration she reminded herself. She let out a deep breath and then opened her door.