CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The shell-shocked image of the Malfoys huddling together as a family would forever be burned into her mind. The eternally beautiful Narcissa was sitting on a bench, her son, Draco, held close to her heart in a grip that Hermione was certain was simultaneously bruising and reassuring for both of them. Lucius sat close to his wife's right side, a part of the moment without actually being involved in it. Upon closer inspection, Hermione could tell that neither Narcissa nor Draco had been paying him much mind. He was simply there, the patriarch of a family who had been worn down and almost completely torn asunder by his own egomaniacal agendas.

Forcing herself to turn away from them, from him, Hermione once again focused on the ginger family in front of her. Like the Malfoys, the Weasleys were huddled together, only this lot was mourning the loss of one of their own. Fred was laying still on the floor, his face still slightly lifted in his dying laugh, while his mother, father, and siblings cried over him. They were all sitting on the floor surrounding the body, Hermione near the edge of the group and lending silent support to Ron. A few minutes passed before she realized that she and Lucius were both in a similar situation. While both appeared to be a part of the group they were with, neither were actually involved in the grieving process their companions were experiencing. They were merely observers.

Swallowing hard, Hermione told Ron that she needed to take a walk, to find Harry who seemed to have gone missing. Ron didn't seem to hear her, nor did he notice her departure, as he was too wrapped up in his own grief. She walked away understanding his sorrow and preoccupation while also being hurt that she seemed to matter so little to him. Hadn't they just kissed? Wasn't that him who had finally realized that the two of them were meant for each other and needed to be together?

She physically shook her head to clear those absurd thoughts. Everyone dealt with grief differently, and this was still fresh, the body still not far removed from the scene of its demise. While the Weasley's were crying over their loss, she felt only numbness, and the fact that Ron hadn't acknowledged her when she walked away only added to her detachment from the situation. She needed to get out. Finding Harry could wait. After all, it wasn't like she had to keep an eternal eye on him anymore; the war was over.

Hermione walked from the Great Hall, passing Argus Filch in the entryway as he was fighting a losing battle against the rubble caused by the war that had so recently raged through these hallowed halls. She could feel the fresh air coming from the broken doors that lead to the outside and followed the breeze until she felt the warm sunlight on her face.

Freedom. She was free. No more did she have to look over her shoulder for the bad guys. No longer did she need to sleep with one eye open, fearing that her wards would fail and the Snatchers would find them. Voldemort was dead, forever removed from this world by the combined efforts of many people, a few of which had given their own lives to save the lives of others. The images of the deceased passed before her mind's eye and she held her face to the sun, eyes closed to bask in the brightness. Albus Dumbledore. Mad-Eye Moody. Remus Lupin. Tonks. Colin Creevey. Fred Weasley. Dobby.

It was the last of these faces that drew a sob from her, remembering the elf and the events that had led to his demise. Hermione looked down at her arm and saw the scarring from Bellatrix's knife, recalling the torture she had endured at the hands of that psychopath. Her body recalled the pain that came from the repeated exposure to the Cruciatus Curse and Hermione physically shook from the memory. She had no idea how she managed to survive and made a mental note to see a healer about her ordeal, now that it was safe to do so. It was plain to her that she would eventually get past the brutality of the past year, but there was one thing she never thought she would get over.

Attempting to flee from the thoughts of Ihim/I, Hermione walked through the courtyard and made her way down toward the lake. When she reached the shores, she noticed that the giant squid was playing merrily in the still waters, apparently unaware of all the havoc that had been wrecked around him. She allowed herself a brief chuckle before chastising herself for finding humour when so many were mired in sadness. Hermione flopped down on the stone bank of the lake and finally succumbed to her misery. Sobs shook her small frame as tears flowed freely down her cheeks. She wept for all she had lost. She wept for her youth that was spent in peril rather than fun. She wept for her parents who were (hopefully) down in Australia and had no idea that they'd even had a child together. She wept for her friends, both those who had died and those who survived to rebuild. Most of all, she wept for lost love.

Thinking about love brought a fresh wave of sadness through her. Ron, the one she had first known as a person with whom she could become involved, was too wrapped up in himself and his own grief to even notice that she was gone. Deep down, she thought that they could still be together, but she knew that it would take some time. Beyond Ron, though, there was another. There was the man with whom she had first known love, the man who had shown her affection even while she was pushing him away.

Lucius Malfoy filled her thoughts despite her best efforts to think of anything but him. She wondered what he was doing right at that moment. Was he still sitting with his family? Had he fled the country, knowing that he was facing certain prison time for his actions? Or had he stayed and simply succumbed to the Aurors who were slowly arriving on the scene and collecting the known Death Eaters?

She hated the thought of him in prison stripes and magic-dampening tattoos. Even the knowledge that he'd brought it on himself did nothing to help the fact that deep down, she still loved him. Despite his faults, despite all he had done and the things he'd neglected to do, she would give almost anything to be with him. But he'd let things happen. He'd broken his promise to always keep her safe.

~*~*~*LMHG*~*~*~

The cleanup was hard, even with the use of magic, but before long Hogwarts was back up and running. Hermione, along with more than a few others in her year, returned to the school to finish their education properly. It was strange for her to be there, sharing a room with Ginny and not having Harry or Ron around at all. Even more strange was seeing Draco Malfoy around the castle.

The older he got, the more he looked like his father. She'd never really realized it before, as he'd had a lot of his mother's features, but now that he was older, she couldn't deny it. In fact, if she ignored his voice, she could almost swear she was back in 1972 with a teenage Lucius. Draco was not Lucius, though.

She was lonely in the castle. Sure, she had friends, but no one she could really relate to anymore. Coming back from the past had been hard enough. Now, though, she had a year on the run to make up for. No one knew what that was like. No one but Harry and Ron… Well, no one but Harry… And they weren't here. They were off in England somewhere doing Auror training. The offer had been for her as well, but she didn't want to be handed anything. She needed to complete her N.E.W.T.s and get a job that she earned, and not just by fighting in a war.

Sitting in the much diminished library, Hermione was attempting to get a jump on a few essays that had been set early on. She still had a few weeks to complete them, but she needed to focus her mind on something other than the mind numbing normalcy of her life. She sat in the back corner, hoping to avoid the plethora of students who seemed to hero worship her. She'd even just shooed away a couple of second years who were distracting her with their whispers. A scuffle was heard as someone knocked into the corner of the bookshelf that was hiding her from view. Thinking they'd come back, she looked up from her book to scold them, but the words died on her lips.

'Mind if I join you, Granger?'

She didn't answer him per se, but rather moved her books around in order to clear a space for him to work.

'Thanks. I um… I can't stand the stares and the whispers.' Draco turned his head to look back toward people who weren't there as he remembered the scathing words that were being thrown his way.

'You're bleeding!' she exclaimed, coming around the table to tend to a small gash just under his left ear. 'What happened? Did you cut yourself shaving?'

He gave her a confused look which made her chuckle. She tried to use her wand to heal the inch long wound, but nothing she tried would work. In the end, she merely cleaned it out and transfigured a band-aid to keep it covered until time healed.

'Thank you,' he said.

'You're welcome. I won't ask what happened. I can't begin to imagine what people are putting you through. I mean, I heard the whispers, even tried to shut them up a bit and –'

He stopped her. 'Look. Let's not pretend to be best mates, ok? I've heard what you've done for me, including putting in a good word with McGonagall for me to get back in here. I'm in your debt, Granger.'

'No. We're even. You could have given us up at your house and you didn't. Even that little bit of extra time probably saved all of our lives.'

Looking at her askance, Draco shook his head and opened his books. The two worked quietly in a semi-awkward silence for well over an hour. Occasionally one would glance up at the other, but for the most part, they worked well together. They would pass books, share their notes with one another, and even silently correct mistakes. The next night found both of them at the same table in the same corner of the library. It was a pattern that would hold through the Christmas holidays.

Intermingled with her studies were the Death Eater trials. Most of them she didn't care about at all, but there were a few that really mattered. Of course she had attended the trial of Draco Malfoy. It had been one of the first and she truly felt as if she needed to be there. It wasn't only because of his actions, or rather his inactions, during their time at Malfoy Manor, but also because of his youth and upbringing. He was a child, a fact he bristled at every time someone would bring it up. There was no going against the adults in your life. Not when those adults included Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Voldemort himself. He had no other choice but to take the Mark and do the Dark Lord's bidding…not if he wished to live.

She was saddened to hear that the Death Eater whose head fell into the bell jar and became baby-like back at the battle in the Department of Mysteries had actually been Rabastan Lestrange. She vaguely remembered seeing him there, but she did not recognize him. Azkaban must have really harmed the once handsome wizard. Upon hearing that news, she went looking into the lives of those she'd considered close friends in the past. Jupiter Wilkes, she learned, was killed by Aurors not too long after she had been born. Galerius Avery had also perished, but he had been killed during the Battle of Hogwarts in the Second War. Again, she couldn't recall seeing him. His appearance must have greatly changed. Only one of her female friends was known to her, the other three either dead or simply vanished. She didn't know, but she would be sure to take the time to ask Andromeda.

It was strange to think that the mother of Tonks was someone she had really gotten to know. Tonks was quirky and exuberant, but Andromeda was more reserved. Perhaps she had acquired the traits from her father. Hermione didn't know much about Ted Tonks, but it was possible he was more outgoing. After all, he had gone after a pureblooded Slytherin witch. Hermione made a mental note to owl her old friend. …what a strange reunion that would be…

Other trials took place for people she'd either never heard of or never cared to hear of again. One name that never came up was Lucius Malfoy. Hermione and Draco hadn't become friends in the traditional sense of the word, but in a way she felt closer to him than she did anyone else at Hogwarts. During Christmas break, while staying with the Weasleys, she and Ron had gotten into a terrible row over the Malfoys and why Hermione seemed to care so much about them.

'Honestly, Mione, why does it even matter if that git gets a trial? We all know he's a Death Eater. Let him be Kissed! No one will miss him!'

She was furious. 'Don't. Call me. MIONE! And of COURSE someone would miss him! What about his wife? His son? Draco is a mess knowing his father is locked up and still awaiting –'

'Oh, so he's "Draco" now, is he? Getting all cozy with the junior Death Eater up at Hogwarts while Harry and I do the real work down here?'

'Ron…'

'You never owl –'

'I owl every week!'

'-and you never come to see me when I'm around –'

'You know very well that I can't leave school grounds while I'm supposed to be in class, Ronald Weasley…'

'-proper girlfriend. Since I obviously mean so little to you, you can just go slag around with Malfoy!'

The slap that she landed on his right cheek felt like it shattered every bone in her left hand, but she didn't care. The adrenaline coursing through her veins was enough pain relief to see her way back to her room to pack her things. She bid a fast farewell to Mr and Mrs Weasley and ran from the house. As soon as she was clear of the wards, she Apparated.

When Hermione landed, it took her a few moments to figure out where she was before the familiar streets of her childhood registered in her brain. Before the emotion of that moment caught up to the fury of her encounter with Ron, she Apparated again, this time landing safely inside The Leaky Cauldron. She walked up to Tom, who was still minding the shop even though he looked rather aged and tired, and asked for a room. The moment she crossed the threshold of room 12, she collapsed inside the door and cried.