My first review turned out to be someone telling me not to write this.. oh well! I'm not going to be able to get the plot out of my brain any other way. This is for me, if you also enjoy it then let me know.


The air at Platform 9 was thick with anticipation as students and their families milled about, the scarlet Hogwarts Express looming like a beacon of normalcy amidst the remnants of war. The voices around Hermione were a comforting hum, a blend of excitement, worry, and a touch of grief that still hung over the wizarding world. Parents hugged their children tightly, the memory of the war still fresh in their minds, and Hermione noticed the way their eyes lingered on her, Harry, and Ron as they passed.

"I wish I could be coming with you," Harry said, his voice tinged with regret. He adjusted his grip on the trolley, his eyes scanning the crowd as though he were still searching for threats.

"You'll be alright, mate," Ron said, clapping Harry on the shoulder, offering a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "We'll keep in touch, yeah? Every day."

"Every day," Hermione echoed, though she knew nothing would ever be quite the same. She reached out and squeezed Harry's hand, offering a reassuring smile. "You're doing the right thing, Harry. The Ministry needs someone like you."

Harry nodded, but the lines of worry etched into his face deepened. "I just hate that I'm leaving you both to handle Hogwarts on your own."

"We can manage," Hermione assured him. "And besides, we've got more than enough to keep us busy."

Ron smirked, but the unease in his eyes was unmistakable. "Yeah, like dealing with Malfoy. I still can't believe they're letting him come back."

"They didn't have much choice," Hermione said, her voice firm even as she rolled her eyes at him. "It was part of his release agreement. And we need to give him a chance to prove himself." They'd had the discussion about Malfoy half a dozen times over the summer; if they wanted to see change they would have to model it. The plan was to be friendly, or at least civil.

"Right," Ron's mouth twisted into a sceptical frown. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."

Before Hermione could respond, a voice called out to them from the crowd, and they turned to see Ginny hurrying toward them, her hair flying behind her in a vivid curtain behind her. She skidded to a stop in front of Harry, her eyes wide with concern.

"Are you sure about this?" Ginny asked, her voice breathless. "I mean, I know you want to help, but… going back to Hogwarts without you…"

Harry smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "You'll be alright, Gin. And I'll visit whenever I can, I promise."

Ginny's lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded. "Just… be careful, okay?"

"You too," Harry whispered, pulling her into a tight embrace. Ginny held on a moment longer, her fingers lingering against his neck before she let go, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "All of you, be careful."

The train's whistle cut through the air, a signal that time was running out. Hermione exchanged a glance with Ron, both of them feeling the weight of this moment as they turned to Harry, offering their final goodbyes.

"Write to us," Hermione said, her voice soft. "And if you need anything…"

"I know," Harry said, giving her a grateful smile. "I will."

With one last look, Harry turned and walked away. Hermione watched him go, a sense of foreboding settling in her chest. It was strange to think of returning to Hogwarts without him, but they had made their choices, and now they had to live with them.

"Come on," Ron said, glancing over his shoulder to nod at Mr Weasley. Ron's mum had owled them the day before explaining that she couldn't possibly come to the platform- any reminder of Hogwarts was too much for her these days. "We should get on the train."

Hermione nodded, and together with Ginny, they made their way to the train, climbing aboard just as the doors began to close. The familiar sight of the compartments, the worn upholstery, and the chatter of students filled Hermione with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia.

They found an empty compartment near the back of the train and settled in, their trunks stowed away above them. Ginny took a seat by the window, staring out at the passing countryside with a distant look in her eyes, while Ron and Hermione sat across from each other, the silence between them heavy with unspoken thoughts as the train pulled out of the station.

"Do you think Snape will be different?" Ron asked suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet. "Now that he's back as Headmaster, I mean."

"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "But I think… I think he's changed. After everything that's happened, how could he not be?"

Ron snorted, though there was no real humor in it. "I'm still not sure how I feel about him running the school. I mean, he was on our side, but he was still a git."

"He was protecting us," Hermione said, a touch of defensiveness creeping into her tone. "And besides, we've all had to do things we're not proud of."

Ron's eyes flicked to her, and she could see the unspoken question there, the worry that had been growing between them ever since the day she had used dark magic to break Snape's wards. But he didn't voice it, and for that, she was both grateful and frustrated.

Before the conversation could continue, the compartment door slid open, and they looked up to see Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway, his expression a mask of indifference. He had grown taller over the summer, his platinum blonde hair falling into his eyes in a way that gave him a slightly dishevelled appearance. But it was his eyes that caught Hermione's attention—there was something different about them, something guarded, almost vulnerable.

"Mind if I join you?" Draco asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Ron bristled beside her, but Hermione shot him a warning look before turning back to Draco. "Of course," she said, motioning to the empty seat beside her.

Draco hesitated for a moment, his gaze flicking between Ron and Hermione, before he finally stepped inside and took the seat. The tension in the compartment was palpable, and for a moment, none of them spoke.

It was Ginny who finally broke the silence, turning away from the window to face Draco with a determined expression. "So, are you ready to be back at Hogwarts?"

Draco blinked, clearly taken aback by the directness of the question. "I… suppose so," he said, his voice uncertain. "It's not like I have much of a choice."

"No," Ginny agreed, her tone sharp. "But that doesn't mean you can just coast through the year. You've got a lot to prove, Malfoy."

Draco stiffened at the words, but there was a hint of shame in his eyes as he looked away. "I know that," he muttered. "And I don't need you to remind me."

"Good," Ginny said, her voice softening slightly. "Because we're not going to go easy on you."

Draco nodded, though he didn't look up, and the conversation lapsed into silence once more. Hermione felt a pang of sympathy for him—he had lost so much, just as they all had, and now he was returning to a place where he was sure to be an outcast. She suspected he'd tried almost every carriage on the train before being admitted to theirs.

The rest of the train ride passed in a blur, the landscape outside the window shifting from the familiar countryside to the wild, rugged terrain that surrounded Hogwarts. As the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station, Hermione felt her nerves heighten. This was it—their return to the place where it had all begun, and where so much had been lost.

They disembarked from the train and made their way toward the carriages, the thestrals waiting patiently as the students climbed aboard. Hermione couldn't help but glance at Draco as they approached the carriage, wondering if he was feeling the same guilt that lay heavily upon her. Perhaps if they had both made better decisions, less students would be able to see the thestrals today.

The castle loomed ahead, its towers and turrets silhouetted against the darkening sky. The sight of it filled Hermione with determination—this was their home, their sanctuary, and it was up to them to protect it, to rebuild it, and to ensure that the future they fought for was worth the price they had paid.

The Great Hall was a sight to behold, even after everything it had endured. The enchanted ceiling reflected the stormy sky outside, the candles flickering in the air above the long house tables. The banners of each house hung proudly, though the atmosphere was tinged with an underlying tension, a reminder of the divisions that had yet to heal.

Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Draco entered together, drawing curious glances from their fellow students. It was as if the entire hall had fallen silent, every eye trained on them as they made their way to the Gryffindor table. Draco hesitated, his gaze flicking to the Slytherin table where his former housemates sat, before finally turning and walking with them to Gryffindor.

The move drew gasps from the students, whispers spreading through the hall like wildfire. But Draco kept his head held high, his expression resolute as he sat down at the end of the table, separate from the others but still within reach.

"Welcome, welcome!" Headmaster Snape's voice cut through the tension, drawing everyone's attention to the staff table where he stood, his dark robes billowing as he addressed the hall. "It is a pleasure to see so many of you returning to Hogwarts this year, despite the challenges we have faced."

His gaze swept over the students, lingering on Hermione and her friends for a moment before continuing. "As we begin this new term, I want to remind you all that the events of the past year have left a mark on us all. But we must not let that divide us. We must come together, stronger than before, and work toward a future where unity and understanding prevail."

Hermione listened intently to Snape's words, knowing that her own actions had contributed to the divisions that still plagued the wizarding world. But she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand—rebuilding, repairing, and finding a way to move forward.

The Sorting Hat, perched atop its stool, looked as ancient as ever. The sight of it brought a wave of nostalgia, but also a surge of frustration within Hermione. The ceremony began, and first-year students were called forward one by one, the Hat deliberating for a few moments before announcing their house. Each new Gryffindor received cheers from her table, while other houses reacted similarly. But Hermione's eyes remained focused on the hat, her mind elsewhere.

"This whole house system," she whispered, leaning closer to Ron. "It's what divides us from the start. Slytherin, Gryffindor—these labels only reinforce old prejudices."

Ron frowned but didn't argue, though he wasn't entirely convinced. It was an argument they'd had before at Grimmauld Place. "It's tradition, though. It's how things have always been."

"But does that make it right?" Hermione pressed. "We've just been through a war because of these divisions. How can we ever move forward if we keep reinforcing them?"

Draco, who had been silent at the end of the table, spoke up quietly. "She's right, you know."

Both Ron and Hermione turned to look at him, surprised by his agreement.

Draco shrugged, his gaze fixed on the Sorting Hat as it continued its work. "Slytherin isn't just a house. It's a label that's followed me my whole life. And it's not just me—everyone sorted into Slytherin is immediately judged, often unfairly. I know we brought a lot of it on ourselves, but it's not always that simple."

Hermione nodded, her eyes softening as she listened. "Exactly. The hat sorts us based on traits we may not even understand as first-years. And then we're stuck with those labels, for better or worse."

Draco's lips curled into a bitter smile. "For some of us, it's been for worse. If I had been sorted into any other house, maybe things would have been different."

Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat, not entirely sure what to say. Ginny broke the tension, thankfully, once again, "But not all Slytherins are bad. I mean, look at you now, Malfoy. You're trying to change, right?"

Draco gave a slight nod. "Trying, yes. But I'm not sure it's enough."

The conversation was cut short as the final student was sorted, and the ceremony concluded. The feast began, and the tension in the hall eased somewhat, though Hermione's mind continued to churn with thoughts of how the house system might be reformed.

After the meal, as students began to leave the hall, Professor McGonagall approached Hermione and Draco, her expression unreadable. "Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy, Headmaster Snape requests your presence in his office."

Hermione exchanged a glance with Draco, who simply nodded, his face a mask of neutrality. Together, they followed McGonagall through the corridors of Hogwarts, the familiar path to the Headmaster's office bringing back memories of all the times Hermione had walked it before, though always under very different circumstances.

When they reached the gargoyle, McGonagall spoke the password—"Phoenix Flame"—and the statue leapt aside, allowing them entrance. The spiral staircase carried them up to the door, and Hermione felt a flutter of anxiety as she knocked.

"Enter," came Snape's voice from within.

They stepped inside, finding Snape seated behind his desk, his dark eyes studying them with an intensity that made Hermione's stomach tighten. The room was dimly lit, the flickering fire casting long shadows on the walls lined with books and magical artefacts. It was a space that exuded power and secrecy, much like the man who occupied it.

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," Snape said, dismissing her with a nod. She gave the students a brief, reassuring smile before leaving them alone with Snape.

For a moment, Snape said nothing, his gaze flicking between them, lingering on Draco longer than the others. Finally, he spoke, his voice cold but not unkind. "I see you have made an interesting choice, Mr. Malfoy, by joining the Gryffindor table this evening."

Draco straightened slightly, meeting Snape's gaze with a hint of defiance. "It was my choice, sir. I thought it best, given the circumstances."

"Indeed." Snape's tone was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—approval, perhaps, or something close to it. "I am sure you understand that this choice will not be without its challenges."

"I'm aware," Draco replied, his voice steady.

Snape nodded slowly, turning his attention to Hermione. "Miss Granger, I trust you have no objections to Mr. Malfoy's decision?"

"None, sir," Hermione said quickly. "In fact, I think it's a step in the right direction. If we're ever going to move past the divisions of the war, we need to start making changes."

Snape raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "A very idealistic view, Miss Granger. But I agree that change is necessary, though it will not come easily."

He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he regarded them. "As you may have guessed, I have called you here for a specific reason. Hogwarts has sustained significant damage, both physically and symbolically, and it will require all of us to restore it to its former glory—and perhaps, improve upon it."

His gaze shifted to Draco once more. "Mr. Malfoy, part of your return to Hogwarts involves a set of tasks that I have assigned to you. One of these tasks will involve working closely with Miss Granger to repair and restore the Room of Requirement."

Draco's eyes widened slightly, but he nodded. "I understand, sir."

"Good," Snape said, his tone firm. "I expect nothing less than complete dedication to this task from both of you. The Room of Requirement is a powerful and unique space, and it has been left in a precarious state. I trust you will approach this work with the seriousness it demands."

Hermione was already considering the challenges they might face in the Room of Requirement when Snape added, "Mr. Malfoy, given your decision to align yourself with Gryffindor, I suggest you take precautions. Warding your bed would be wise. Miss Granger has a particular interest in warding—perhaps she could assist you."

Draco's expression flickered with surprise, and Hermione felt a slight flush of embarrassment at the reference to her previous exploits. "Yes, sir," Draco replied after a moment, nodding his acceptance. "Thank you."

Snape nodded in return. "Very well. You are dismissed. I expect you to begin work on the Room of Requirement straight after class tomorrow. And Mr. Malfoy—remember that every choice you make from here on out will be closely scrutinised. Do not disappoint me."

"Yes, sir," Draco replied, his voice steady despite the weight of the words.

As they left the office, descending the spiral staircase, the tension between them was thick. Hermione glanced at Draco, sensing the unease he wasn't voicing.

Once they were back in the corridor, Draco finally spoke, his voice low yet sharp. "You didn't have to agree to help me, you know. I'm perfectly capable of setting a few wards myself."

Hermione looked at him, not surprised by the defensiveness in his tone even if the events of the day had made her hope he would have matured. "I want to help," she said softly. "We're all in this together now, whether we like it or not. And besides, I'm interested in warding. It's… complex magic."

Draco nodded, though his expression remained distant. "I suppose it is."

They continued walking in silence in the general direction of the library. Unexpectedly, Draco stopped, muttering to himself before turning and going the opposite way. Unsure of his motivation, Hermione followed. They reached an empty classroom.

"This is where I used to study—away from the others," he explained as they entered, "Do me a favour and don't tell Weasley." The room was dusty, but the quiet was comforting, and Hermione was reminded of the nights she had spent studying alone in the library.

Draco pulled out his wand, and Hermione joined him as they began discussing different wards. She demonstrated a few she had used for the tent, explaining how they worked to repel intruders and set off alarms.

Draco watched with mild interest before stepping in to show her some of the wards he knew. "These are a bit different," he said with a slight smirk. "More aggressive. They're designed to cause harm if someone tries to break through them."

Hermione raised an eyebrow as she watched him cast a ward that sent a surge of energy through the air, crackling like electricity. "That's… effective," she commented, her tone dry. "But maybe a bit too effective."

Draco's smirk widened. "It's practical. Sometimes, a little fear is all it takes to keep people out."

Hermione shook her head, though she couldn't help but be impressed by his skill. He had the wrong approach though. "If you hurt someone trying to break through your wards, it will only make you more of a target. People are already watching your every move, waiting for you to slip up. If you overreact, it could give them an excuse to come after you."

Releasing a breath, Draco raised an eyebrow at her, "What would you suggest, Granger?"

Hermione chuckled softly. "Maybe we can combine our methods—something practical and something less likely to maim. Something more subtle, a ward that stops anyone disturbing you and marks them if they try. To be dealt with later."

Draco laughed, a genuine sound that lightened the mood. "I think we can manage that. It's a rather Slytherin approach, the kind my mother would take."

"I was rather surprised you went straight to the maiming."

He shook his head, his longer hair flicking in front of his eyes. "You'd think I'd be that sneaky, wouldn't you? But I've never been very good at playing the Slytherin game. Always too quick to spit my dummy out, as you'd put it. Maybe I would've been better off in Ravenclaw."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, surprised by his admission. "Ravenclaw? I never pictured you as the type."

Draco shrugged, his tone suddenly distant. "I was always more interested in knowledge, in understanding things, than in power. But I ended up in Slytherin, and that's shaped everything since."

"The house system has a lot to answer for," she muttered, before they resumed their work.

Later, as they finished up and left the classroom, Draco thanked her, his tone sincere this time. "I appreciate this, Granger. Really."

She smiled. "You're welcome, Malfoy."

Back in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione found Ginny waiting for her. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the room as the other students chatted quietly or prepared for bed.

Ginny looked up as Hermione entered, her expression curious. "So, what was the meeting with Snape about?"

Hermione sat down beside her, feeling a bit weary after the long day. "He wants me and Malfoy to work together on repairing the Room of Requirement. It's in pretty bad shape."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "You and Malfoy? That's… interesting."

Hermione sighed, knowing where this was going. "It's necessary, Ginny. We need to work together if we're going to rebuild Hogwarts."

Ginny nodded, though there was a hint of concern in her eyes. "Ron won't be too happy about it. He was worried, you know? About you going alone with Malfoy- to Snape."

Hermione rolled her eyes, though she couldn't help but smile at Ron's overprotectiveness. "Ron needs to trust me. Malfoy is not the same person he was before, and we spent all summer proving Snape is on our side. We all need to start letting go of the past."

Ginny gave her a sympathetic look. "I know. But you know how Ron is—he's always going to worry about you."

Hermione leaned back in her chair, letting out a tired breath. "I know. But he'll come around. We all have to."

Ginny's expression softened. "Just be careful, alright? I don't trust Malfoy completely either, but… I trust you."

Hermione smiled, grateful for Ginny's support. "Thanks, Ginny. I'll be fine."

The first lesson the next day was Transfiguration, a subject Hermione had always excelled in, but today felt different. The classroom was filled with both seventh and eighth-year students, a mix of familiar faces and those she barely knew. Professor McGonagall stood at the front, her presence as commanding as ever, but there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere—an undercurrent of uncertainty that hadn't been there before.

As she took her seat, Hermione couldn't help but notice the way the students were arranged. The lines between houses were more blurred than they had ever been, with Gryffindors sitting beside Slytherins, Hufflepuffs next to Ravenclaws. It was a small change, but it was significant—a sign that perhaps, just maybe, the divisions that had defined them for so long were beginning to fade.

Professor McGonagall began the lesson with a review of the advanced Transfiguration techniques they had been studying before the war. As she spoke, Hermione's mind drifted to the conversation she had had with Draco the night before, about the house system and the need for change. It was clear that the events of the past year had left a mark on all of them, but it was also clear that change wouldn't come easily.

As the lesson progressed, Hermione found herself partnered with a Slytherin student she didn't know well—Daphne Greengrass. At first, there was a palpable awkwardness between them, but as they worked together on their transfigurations, Hermione found that Daphne was just as eager to learn as she was.

By the end of the lesson, they had managed to successfully transfigure a teapot into a turtle—a task that had seemed almost impossible at the start. As they packed up their things, Daphne turned to Hermione with a tentative smile.

"Good job," she said, her voice quiet but sincere.

"You too," Hermione replied, returning the smile. "Maybe we can work together again sometime."

Daphne nodded, looking slightly surprised but pleased. "I'd like that."

After classes, Hermione and Draco met outside the Room of Requirement, ready to begin their work. The door, unlike before, was now visible to everyone—a stark reminder of how much had changed. When they stepped inside, the room was empty, its walls crumbling and the floor littered with loose rubble. Every surface appeared charred. It was nothing like the Room of Requirement they had known—a place of hidden treasures, of safety, of resistance.

Draco's eyes scanned the room, taking in the damage. "It's worse than I thought," he admitted.

Hermione nodded, already pulling out her wand. "We'll need to perform diagnostics first, figure out what kind of magic was used here and what needs replacing."

They set to work, casting diagnostic spells that sent waves of light rippling through the air, revealing the fractures in the walls and the remnants of the powerful magic that had once filled the space.

As they worked, Hermione could her mind drifting to her last memory of this room, her chest tightening as she tried to refocus on the here and now—on clearing the rubble, stabilising the walls, and making the room safe again.

Eventually, when she could not distract her brain any longer, she asked the question most pressing on her mind. "Why were you here? During the battle, why be here and not out with the action?"

Draco scoffed, not bothering to turn around, "I thought you'd have worked that out by now, Granger."

She sighed, trying a different tact, "It must be hard, being back here." He had lost a friend, after all.

This time he did turn, his eyes connecting with hers only for a moment before he looked to the floor, "At least it's different, this isn't the room of hidden things right now- just an empty shell." He turned back and lifted his wand, "We should remove the burn marks first though."

"Agreed."

Draco worked beside her, his movements precise and focused. They didn't speak much after that, but there was a silent understanding between them. They were here to rebuild, to make something new out of the ruins of the past. And for now, that was enough.

The room was starting to take shape again, the walls less unstable, the floor cleared of debris. It was slow progress, but progress nonetheless. And as they worked, there was a sense of purpose in their actions—a shared determination to see this through.

By the time they finished for the day, the room was still far from what it had once been, but it was better than it had been that morning.

"Dinner, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, brushing the hair that was sticking to her face aside.

"I thought you'd never ask," he responded, slipping his wand back into his robes. Opening the door, he gestured her through, "Ladies first."