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.

When all were called downstairs into their common rooms, there was a letter stating that Hogwarts would be up an running, with its usually activities in a week. These letters not only went to the common rooms for each house, but to the students who were back home with family. Draco smiled inwardly at the notice which him and two other Slytherin students read in the common room. Those who had come back early included Pansy Parkinson, Astoria Greengrass, Crabbe, Goyle, a few forth years and a second year student, who's name Draco had already forgotten. It was 'nice' to have Pansy around, at least that's how Draco felt at first. She was a comforting thought, having something on hold like that. She grave Draco the warmth he needed, and he didn't feel so lonely, yet she hadn't changed at all. She couldn't quite see the turmoil going on in Draco's mind. Not that he would let her, but as comforting as her body was to him, she was beginning to become a clingy annoyance, yet again.

"So Draco," she spoke just over a whisper, her hands clinging to his arm. He didn't reciprocate the affection.

"Pansy," he noted her existence.

"Why don't we, go do something, fun?" she asked as one of her hands moved to play with his fingers.

He ignored her. He moved to go grab something, his arm slipping from her hands. Majority of the other students had left the room.

"Draco, please. I mean last night, the night before, I just-" she paused for a moment, perhaps to not seem as desperate as she felt, "doesn't any of it mean anything to you?"

"We've done it before. It didn't mean anything before," he stated grabbing a box off of the Slytherin common room shelf.

"Oh," her voice dropped a little, "Draco, we are perfect for each other, you know that right?"

"Whatever you say, Pansy," he sighed opening the box.

"Draco, don't," she walked up to him, closed the box and made sure he looked straight into her eyes, "I can be just as intimidating as you can, and you know that."

"What do you want, Pansy?" he was unamused by this point.

"You, and me. I'm done, with the games, Draco. It's fun sure, and I definitely like fun, don't get me wrong, but I'm not the only one in these halls who you have fun with, and I want that to change."

Draco didn't know where she got off saying all this, they weren't dating, there was't anyone else around these halls, and of recently Pansy Parkinson was the only person to get into his pants. He felt that she should be pleased just by that. It wasn't that he had an emotional attachment to Pansy, he certainly didn't, apart from childhood memories. She was attractive, and that's where it stopped for Draco, she didn't have the wit to keep up with him.

"You know it's what would make your parents proud," she pushed, "us, together. Pure bloods, a powerful breed. Maybe we'd be the next to take over."

"Pansy, your narrow mind precedes you."

Her eyes started to fill with anger.

"You know what this is, Pansy," he ignored her temper which he knew would erupt, "there is no us. We're a bit of fun, that's all. You know me, I know you, that's why this worked see. I get your want for more, who wouldn't? But you and I both know it isn't going to work like that."

"Well maybe I'll just stop."

"Stop?"

"Stop curling my tongue around your dick, stop letting you crawl on top of me, stop letting you have your way with more, stop letting you be aroused and pleasured."

"Your loss, not mine," he noticed the second year running to his room. Draco scowled at the fact that Pansy just could not keep her mouth shut. He headed towards the entrance of the common room.

"Draco!" she yelped. Draco hadn't heard her yell or scream before, not really. She usually kept the cool exterior that matched his and other Slytherins.

"We don't have many people left," she said suddenly, "It's just us. There's isn't many of us, Draco, we need to come together. We're similar you and I. We need each other."

"Parkinson," he started, "your fantasies are preceding you."

Draco left the room. Of course the moment Pansy Parkinson came back to Hogwarts he had to deal with, whatever that was. He chuckled under his breath as he walked down a corridor, not really having an idea of where he was going. Her prime idea was to stop screwing him in order to get him to stop messing about with other girls. He smiled a little. Idiot. There was no one else around here we was messing around with, not currently, simple because there was no one else here. He didn't even think about it either. Pansy was like a reflex, he had her on hold and was able to bring her to him when he needed his spirits lifted for a short while. And by a short while, it was nothing to do with his own stamina, but rather hers. He found it ridiculous that she even bought up the subject when everything was so weird around them already. He only slept with her because she asked him to, and it was fun, definitely, but she wasn't the best he had.

Draco wandered around the Hogwarts grounds, noticing little pieces of ruble that had been left in areas, not quite finding where they would fit when the professors used their magic to fix up the place. Draco, like everybody else had felt lonely, and that's what he started up this thing again with Pansy. But while his mind went for a walk, trying to figure out what happens next after what they had all believed in died out, she was so determined to preserve everything, like nothing had changed, like if anything had changed it was how close they were all supposed to be now. Draco felt the whole situation pushed them all further away. He had no idea where Crabbe or Goyle were, and now that he thought about it, he didn't even care. Blaise was supposed to return soon, but even Draco didn't know what their dynamic would be now. He shrugged it off, it didn't matter, he was still Draco Malfoy, and so far, that meant nothing within his own Hogwarts house would change. He did hug Lord Voldemort after all, the only person openly seen to have been given affection by the dark lord, which meant something amongst those within his crowd. But outside of them, it obviously meant something different, but so far, no one had mentioned it, out of fear, or because they wanted to move on.

He found himself outside of the library again. He stood there for a few moments. Not too long ago it had been a place where no one would think he would be. That's why he came there. But after a week he started finding Hermione lurking around and he didn't quite like his peace being disturbed by the curly haired witch. He knew that if he had left in a rush that day, he would've looked like a coward, if he just walked out then it would be like he was saying that there wasn't going to be peace between them at all and so he stayed that day, even if it was strange, he let her have her space and aided with the return of books to shelves. But today, it didn't look like anybody was in there. He'd recently been reading more about the history of Hogwarts. Not that he wanted to preserve this place or its memories, he couldn't care if it really just stayed put down, but he knew that would mean that he would have to return to another school such as Durmstrang. Though, now that he thought about it, he probably could've gotten away with homeschooling, as he was sure many other wizards and witches heading towards their finally year probably opted for after the battle. He ran his hands through his blonde hair and looked for books through the history section.

In one week, everything was supposed to go back to normal. As Draco attempted to read the silly book he had picked up, he found himself thinking about what would happen in a weeks time, rather than the book itself. He was playing with spells, causing different images to move on the page, burning the corners of the paper and creating new images. He was bored. Looking through all of this history stuff finally got the better of him. He ripped out a page and flicked his wand, turning the piece of paper into a swan. He allowed the swan to lift into the air and fly about, the wings of the creature moving as it did so.

"Did you just rip out a piece of paper from that book?" he heard the familiar girls voice in anguish.

The paper swan started to burn, and then the ashes fell to the floor.

"And you burnt it?" the bossy voice called.

Draco just raised an eyebrow, as if to say 'what's it to you?' and Hermione's nostrils just flared. Hermione clenched her jaw before placing the two books she held in her hand onto a table. She crossed her arms and looked at Draco. She was wondering whether she had imagined him in her room, or if he had actually been there. He didn't seem to be paying any attention to her. It would've been a strange conversation to imagine, as it didn't seem to really go anywhere or have a point. Him being in her room, there was no point to that, so why would he have been there? Her thoughts were confusing her, a conversation she wouldn't of thought of imaging, or the fact that Draco wouldn't be sitting in her room for in real life. She bit her lower lip. But if she had imagined him there, there would be more to it, she knew that. She was at a point where she was sick of just being inside her own head.

"Classes start up again in a week," she stated.

"Then we can go back to an academic rivalry."

"Do you think it'd be less strange? Having classes back?"

"I'm sure a routine will make everything about this less strange. That way it wouldn't seem like I was going out of my way to talk to you."

"Are you going out of your way to talk to me?"

Draco paused. He realised that he had been. He had been allowing himself to be in these situations where we would have to talk to her. It wasn't like they were thrown together in class, it wasn't like he felt the need to be actively against her, and it wasn't like there was something there forcing them to speak, to do anything. He had gone up to her room, out of all things, to talk to her. That felt strange to Draco. He just wanted to talk to her. He frowned, that wasn't at all like himself. Hermione coughed and Draco come out of his state of thinking.

"No."

His words were sudden, and now it was Hermione's turn to frown it seemed.

"Interesting," she finally said, "how we keep finding ourselves in conversation."

"I suppose so."

Draco disappeared down the dark corners of the library with the book he had just been holding. Hermione felt the need to follow him. She knew that she was thinking about him, about their small almost meaningless conversations. But she didn't know why she was pondering about it. And she just had to know. She had to know what was going on with herself, and she felt these small conversations had something to do with that. She remembered that they danced. She remembered that she felt comforted. But she also remembered it was such an insignificant moment when she looked at the bigger picture. They weren't dancing in the middle of the Yule Ball, they weren't the centre of attention, it wasn't a big deal to anyone else. But she also thought, that perhaps that was why she was searching for him. That things were strangely simple, this friendship that seemed to be forming, or whatever it was, seemed like something important in Hermione's opinion, otherwise she wouldn't be thinking about it too much. She knew it didn't make a lot of sense, but she knew to go with her gut. Perhaps it was something to do with making peace, but it wasn't like she was that interested in making peace with everyone who were on the opposite side.

The next thing she knew, was that her face had hit the ground hard as she tripped over a chair in the dark depths of the library. She cursed under her breath, lying there for a moment before deciding she should probably attempt to get up.

"Are you stalking me, Granger?" Draco's voice called.

She remembered those words. They came out of her mouth last time.

"Don't flatter yourself, Malfoy," she stated, suddenly realising that they had more similarities than she had let on.

He chuckled.

She groaned as she got up. Grabbing her wand she whispered 'lumous' before jumping as she realised that Draco was a lot closer to her than she had assumed. He was barely a few steps away.

"Scared, Granger?" he teased. He remembered how much he liked to tease.

"Why are you back here?" she asked.

"The book I was attempting to read was a tad boring. Almost fell asleep."

"Which book was it?"

"No clue."

"You don't know what book you were reading?"

"Not all of us want to remember every single detail, Granger."

She turned around, facing away from Draco. She looked at the section of books, the history of the dark arts. Then, an arm brushed pass here, grabbing a book from in front of her. She could feel Draco's breath against her neck as he stood behind her, reaching for the book. Whether it was because he actually wanted to know the history of the dark arts or because he liked to see people squirm a little, his actions still would've remained the same.

"Know anything about this one, Granger?"

"Ah, no, I don't."

"Something, Granger doesn't know? Interesting," he noted, opening up the book in front of them.

She took a deep breath and took a small step away, turning slightly so she could see his face. He smirked.

"Bet, Potter didn't have to learn any of this. Bet he never had to learn anything, ever."

"Harry learnt, just the same as we did."

"Let's be serious, Granger. Potter never really had to work his butt off in this school. Points were awarded to him for just being, Potter. It's not like he'd ever really have to pick up a book, it seems like an incredible amount of luck actually."

"Harry worked for everything he's gotten, Malfoy. He didn't just win a war based on pure luck. Harry's smart, and he worked through everything just like the rest of us," she defended her friend.

"I don't know, Granger. What if he didn't have a bushy haired know-it-all by his side? Do you think he would've won then? Do you think he would've actually put in effort? Imagine that, Potter putting in effort. What a funny image. But he had you to do everything for him basically. I wonder how you feel about that, Granger."

"Harry is capable of doing anything on his own, and he proved that. We were all there to support him, we all supported him and our support was a source to him, but he was able to win that battle all on his own."

"Really now?"

"Yes, really! He didn't need us there, but we were there! He would've one no matter what."

"So, you're irrelevant then."

"What?"

"You're irrelevant. The whole war could've gone out without you, you didn't have a position, you didn't mean a thing, whatever you did meant nothing in the process. All your hard work here, working for your O.W.L.s, reading every bloody book about magic, and nothing. Interesting to know how you spend your time, Granger."

"Irrelevant? Irrelevant, Malfoy?" she almost chuckled, "you've got to be kidding me. I may have been irrelevant according to you, but you weren't worth half a soldier during that battle."

"Well, that's barely an insult now is it."

She shook her head and breathed in deeply.

"Funny how naturally we fall into this pattern," he laughed a little.

"What's your problem, Malfoy?" she pushed him and he took a few steps back, "I'm here trying to have a stupid conversation with you and you pull this crap out on me. Not that we've even really ever had a conversation, it's more like arguments. But I suppose you just think that's normal, now don't you?"

He flicked his wand and a bunch of books fell to the ground. Hermione looked at the books then quickly snapped her head back towards him, stepping forward.

"Why, because I was brought up to think every conversation is supposed to be a fight, Granger? Because Draco Malfoy grew up in a torturous home so he must be evil, he must be dark, right? Like the rest of them? Because you want me to be. Don't you, Granger? I get that our naturally rhythm seems to be fights and arguments, but I'm not so sure that that's my fault, Granger. I think that your want for me to be a big bad bully is what starts this."

More books came flying off the shelf.

"Well maybe you are just that. Maybe all you are is some stupid bully, who can't stop being a bully, who can't stop trying to prove his pathetic worth to the wrong side, to an idol he died at the hands of a bloody teenager. It doesn't look like you've tried to be any different."

"I haven't tried to be any different?"

"At least, Harry tried! He threw a party. He invited everyone, he didn't care what side anyone was on. He doesn't even throw parties."

Her hands flailed about in the air.

"A party? Because a party is going to solve whatever was left after this battle. That's ridiculous, and you know it, Granger."

"At least it was an effort."

"An effort? He knew that the only people that would be there were those who were still here. And you and I both know the only Slytherin lurking around was me. What an amazing effort your golden friend put in there."

"Well a party is better than snapping every two seconds at whatever someone says."

"I don't snap, and you bloody well know that, Granger. The only reason our conversations go south is because you want to believe the worst in me, because that's what your petty little friends want you to do," he stepped towards her, only for her to push him back.

"You don't get to talk about my friends that way."

"Fuck you, Granger. At least I had the decency to try, as soon as I saw someone else, which happened to be you, to try and create peace. A party please. I put back your fucking precious place back together. I even walked up and down these stupid aisles putting books back the muggle way."

The books that had toppled to the grown now caught fire.

"Don't you fucking swear at me, Malfoy!"

"Don't you dare boss me around, Granger," he stepped towards her.

"You helped put some books on a shelf, so fucking what, Malfoy. And now you're tearing them all down. That's some great truce you've tried to create here."

Neither of them had any idea how their conversation got here, or where it was going.

"Fucking hell, Granger. What about you then? Where was your branch of fucking peace?"

"I don't fucking know, Malfoy. I haven't cut your silly head off yet, isn't that peace enough?"

"Another thing, Granger doesn't know? It has been an interesting few weeks now hasn't it? Guess you need to renounce that know-it-all title."

"Why won't you just shut up, Malfoy?" she was so close to him now, not even realising it due to the blinding rage the filled her.

"Why don't you make me, Granger?" his nose touched hers as his angry, yet somewhat playful eyes focused on her enraged ones.

Draco could hear Hermione's deep curious breaths.

"Your father isn't here to fight your battles for you, Malfoy," her voice was more steady than before, more calm.

"You don't get to talk about my father, Granger," his anger seems to over take hers.

She shook her head a little and looked off to the side, but his hand grabbed her jaw, moving her head to face him. He made sure she was looking directly at him. Only his eyes would give away any hint of emotion, whilst Hermione showed her emotions through the whole of her body, and it was always obvious. She shuddered slightly. Hermione noted that he was holding back, he was holding something back, like he was going to spit but didn't feel it polite to do so. Like he was going to call her a mud-blood again, like he did every single year until now. Like he was going to the other day. Before now, he would have never touched her cheek, danced with her, or even grab her face. No. He wouldn't what filthy mud-blood germs or whatever he would've called it, to have any type of interaction with him. Hermione clenched her jaw and Draco felt the movement in his hand. He loosened his grip. His hand felt soft against Hermione's skin, and the dynamic between them had changed once again. He looked away, his thumb tracing her jawline for a moment, so delicately, before he lowered his arm. She just stared at him.