1,153Author's Note: This story is being painstakingly beta'ed by tectonictigress. A big shout-out and an eternally grateful thanks to her. She is awesome! Please note that I do not own Harry Potter. A few trigger warnings: mentions of self-mutilation and brutality, discussions of deaths, PTSD therapies, recreational drug use, sexual content.
o-o-o
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
-Robert Frost
o-o-o
The Burrow had always been a place of comfort to Hermione Granger, bustling with vibrancy and life at all hours of the day. Molly and Arthur had worked hard and survived on meager wages but had raised a family built on love and loyalty rather than riches and materialism. Growing up an only child, it was certainly a huge change to walk into a home that made up for the lack of privacy with an enriched and tight-knit love.
As she lay in her bed in Ginny's room, she remembered the summers spent with Ginny alongside the pond, listening as she spoke fondly of Harry; reading under the large oak while the others whizzed around her on their brooms; Molly's soulful cooking that stuck to her ribs and filled her heart with mirth; Arthur's kind disposition and unwavering curiosity about her parents and the world where she had been raised.
The War had ended, and with it, Fred's life. The lively sounds of excited voices, the explosions from the floor below as the twins worked, the laughter and delight—it had all dimmed significantly. Laughter had turned bitter and excitement had faded to exhaustion. Unable to bring himself to face Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes alone, George had moved back home to the Burrow and locked himself away.
Everything she had once loved about the Burrow had soured on the second of May, though the end of the War was a great victory to the wizarding world. Not that she could honestly blame the Weasley family—she herself felt the sting of the twin's death. The entire world around them was changing, adapting to life without a constant threat looming in the distance, and her world within the sanctity of the Burrow was transforming as well. Since their kiss in the midst of fear-fueled passion, she and Ron had been nursing a delicate, tentative relationship.
For years, she had yearned for the love of her best friend, and now that it was readily attainable, everything felt all wrong. Hermione tried to tell herself that it was because he was still reeling over the death of his brother and she was trying to cope with her parents living life blissfully unaware of her existence. Their kisses were fumbled and shaky, his hands large and uncertain. She tried to tell herself it was because they were both inexperienced, but she knew that was not it—Ron had been with Lavender and she with Viktor for long enough to gain some experience. No matter. Telling herself that this was just new relationship jitters, she pushed forward. Once the aftermath of the War calmed, they would settle into a comfortable companionship. It was what she had hoped for all along and she was determined to find happiness with him.
There was a soft knock on the door and Mrs. Weasley popped her head into the room. "Hermione, dear? Minister Shacklebolt is downstairs and he wants to speak with you."
The younger witch had to fight a groan—she knew exactly why the Minister was calling on her. With distinct petulance that she rarely exhibited, Hermione pulled herself up from the bed. Mrs. Weasley was wringing a dish towel between her hands anxiously as she led Hermione down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Kingsley was shaking hands with Ron and Harry.
"Miss Granger," he greeted with a kind smile and held his arm out for a hug.
Giving him a swift embrace, Hermione sat at the worn kitchen table in the Burrow, flanked by her two best friends. The new Minister for Magic sat across from them, his hands folded neatly in front of him, slouched comfortably into his seat. "It suffices to say that the Ministry is impressed with how you handled the events that were presented to you in the last year. You will find enclosed in these envelopes letters offering you each a position in the highly sought after Auror's program."
He slid three envelopes from across the table to them. In the two and a half months since the War had ended, they had given interviews to multiple reporters, been handed book deals, and had many job offers extended their way. Basking in the attention, Ron relished finally being recognized for the first time in his life. Harry hated the limelight but felt that people deserved to know the truth after so many years shrouded in darkness and deceit. Hermione, however, had despised every interaction they'd had with the public since the War.
She wanted nothing except Headmistress McGonagall's offer to return and complete her final year. Nearing nineteen, Hermione felt as though she needed to finish her education sooner rather than later, let her life follow the course it should have had it not been for the War. Her fingers slowly broke the wax seal of her envelope as the two men on either side of her tore into theirs. A quick scan of the arse-kissing letter contained within confirmed her thoughts. The Ministry had rejected Harry for the better part of his life, refusing to believe Voldemort had returned and then laying down and allowing itself to fall straight into his hands during the War. And now they valued his opinion and hard work? She scoffed. "Glad to see the Ministry has finally come around," she replied, crumpling her letter.
"'Mione," Ron admonished.
"Hermione. Kingsley is the Minister now. Things are changing for the better. It's what we fought for," Harry reminded her.
Shacklebolt nodded. "We're stronger than ever, Miss Granger. We would love it if you all joined our ranks."
"And what? Skip our education? Ignore the N.E.W.T.s in favor of some fleeting chance we could become Aurors?"
"It is more than a fleeting chance. You have already defeated the most evil of all wizards. You three are, in some ways, more knowledgeable than many of the Aurors currently employed," Kingsley argued politely.
Harry snorted at that. "Clearly," he allowed in a rare moment of arrogance.
Ron was reading over his letter, a broad smile across his face. "No more two-foot essays on the alignment of the stars? No more transfiguring teacups into kittens? No more studying in the library with Hermione for days on end?" A glazed look reached his eyes.
Shacklebolt grinned at him. "It is totally hands on. Theory is taught and then put into practice, like an official 'Dumbledore's Army.'"
Ron grinned wickedly and looked at Harry, who seemed to be in agreement. He then caught sight of the look on Hermione's face and his smile fell slightly. "Come on, 'Mione. Think about it. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. We're being offered a job we're overqualified for," he winked at Kingsley who laughed, "and we don't have to sit behind the desk in the Potions classroom while Seamus causes another explosion."
She frowned more deeply. "How long?"
"A year," the Minister replied.
Even Ron looked disgruntled at that. "A year?"
Kingsley sat back again. "Yes. A year. You three are good, but there is still much about the Dark Arts you aren't aware of. It's an apprenticeship of sorts. But there is one thing…"
"Out with it then," Harry insisted.
"No outside contact with anyone for the duration of training. It is dangerous to be exposed to outside influences at such a crucial period of regrowth."
The friends all at him. "So, you want to break us down and rebuild us the way you want us," Harry said, also sitting back and taking in all of the information. "How very totalitarian."
Harry's reference went over Ron and the Minister's heads and Hermione bristled next to him. "Precisely."
"I understand if you need time to think about it, but do not wait too long. Training begins the first of September," and with that, Kingsley swallowed the rest of his tea and stood.
Mrs. Weasley peered into the room. "Kingsley, you must stay for dinner—I've made more than enough and it's been far too long!"
"I'd love to, Molly," he replied, winking at the teens before Mrs. Weasley led him into the sitting room where Mr. Weasley and Charlie were talking. The Golden Trio looked at each other.
"I'm going."
"I'm not going."
It was Harry and Hermione who had spoken at the same time. Of course Harry wanted to go—chasing and overthrowing Dark Wizards had consumed his life for almost eight years—it was all he knew. Ron seemed to be torn between his two best friends. He looked between them and gave Hermione a pained look. "Hermione, we may never get another opportunity like this again."
"I've made my decision, Ronald. I want to return to Hogwarts. I enjoy learning if you hadn't noticed. And I think I've had quite enough Dark Wizard hunting to last me a lifetime. I want to turn my attention to other avenues now," she said, huffing impatiently.
"You can't possibly be talking about spew!" he exclaimed.
"It's S.P.E.W., Ronald, and that is only one aspect of my future plans."
"What about us?" he whispered, and Harry took this as his cue to excuse himself to the sitting room to announce his acceptance.
"What about us?" she asked, avoiding his gaze while knowing full well that he was speaking of the relationship they had danced around for far too long now.
"I thought we were heading toward…something…" he said, grabbing her hand under the table.
"I did, too," she replied, though there was a contradictory flutter in her stomach. "But that doesn't change my mind. I have no desire to be an Auror. Harry didn't even confer with Ginny before he made his choice, so why are we having this discussion?" Hermione asked, the nauseous feeling in her belly growing more prominent.
"Harry knows that Ginny would hex his bollocks off if he turned it down-"
"Is that what it's going to take for you to accept Shacklebolt's offer?" she asked him playfully, trying her best to hide her uneasy sadness.
Ron looked at her then, conflict clear in his bright blue eyes. She knew he wouldn't want to leave her, but he needed to take this offer. Another offer this sweet probably wouldn't present itself in his lifetime and he wasn't the academic type anyway. Still, that didn't mean she was going to chase after his dreams as her own just to try to salvage the relationship they might have. A relationship she was so unsure of, one that left her feeling far emptier than fulfilled as of late.
She leaned over and kissed his cheek, putting her most genuine smile on. "Ron, this is your dream and an opportunity of a lifetime. You'd be a fool not to take it."
"What about us?" he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Get through Auror training and we can revisit us. I will not allow you to throw this opportunity away."
Ron looked pained, though Hermione could tell he was fighting a smile of excitement. "Well, we've got six weeks left of this summer to spend together."
She gave him what she hoped would pass for a genuinely happy smile and grabbed his hand. "Do you want to break the news to your mum before or after you accept the offer?" she asked with a laugh.
He groaned. "After. That way she can't try to talk me out of it."
"Oh, she'll still try to talk you out of it," Hermione reminded him as they entered the sitting room.
Shacklebolt smiled up at the pair and held out his hands expectantly. "Well? Ron? Hermione? What do you say?"
Ron grinned and held his hand out and gave Kingsley a firm handshake. "Can't wait."
Kingsley looked expectantly at Hermione and she bit her lip and averted her eyes as she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm a little sick of my life being in constant danger. I'd rather finish my education at Hogwarts and focus my attention elsewhere."
Shacklebolt's smile didn't waver. "The Ministry's loss, then. We could have used your brilliance on the force. But, I can't say I blame you-you have been through enough trials for a lifetime."
Ginny was busy congratulating Harry, truly happy for him even though she knew she'd be sacrificing her own happiness for the next year. Hermione envied her in that moment, mourning her own loss silently as she put on her best brave face. Kingsley turned to Harry. "Mr. Potter, there is another reason why I'm here. We need to discuss your testimony at the Malfoys' trial tomorrow."
o-o-o
The Wizengamot had stepped out to deliberate and come up with a punishment for Draco Malfoy. He stood in the corridor outside of the courtroom, pacing nervously. They had been out for nearly two hours. His father had been sentenced to receive the Kiss and indefinite incarceration in Azkaban. His mother had been sentenced to five years of house arrest for her part, only brought down from indefinite incarceration because Harry Potter had testified on her behalf about her part in saving his life during the Battle of Hogwarts.
Potter had testified on his behalf as well, much to his surprise. They had never been amicable in school, were even sworn rivals, so for Potter to assist him in any way was humbling. He had testified about how Draco had refused to kill Dumbledore and about his reluctance to identify the trio at Easter at Malfoy Manor.
He was trying not to think about his father's fate as he paced the corridor. A fate that could very well be his own soon. Granted, he had never actually willingly killed anyone, but they knew he had been coerced into participating in torture during the revels. Taking the Mark was the worst decision he had ever made in his life, even if he did believe at the time that it was the right decision. He wished he could take a time-turner and go back to his sixteenth birthday and run far away from Wiltshire, from England. He would go away with the Order and fight for what he knew in his heart to be right and just, regardless of his parents' desires.
But what was done was done. He had to take his consequences now and it was honestly scaring him to the brink of a breakdown. He couldn't bear the thought that he would be thrown in a cold cell for the rest of his life, his soul sucked out upon arrival. He was trying beyond all hope to calm his breathing and steady his shaking hands as the door to the courtroom opened and a stout witch poked her head out. "We're ready for sentencing, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco tried to swallow but his throat was dreadfully dry. He wiped his sweaty palms against the smooth fabric of his black suit and buttoned the top button of his jacket. Squaring his shoulders, he tried to muster some of the aristocratic sophistication that was expected of him in times of stress. He took his seat in the center of the room once more and felt the shackles close around his wrists and ankles. His heart was racing so harshly, the sound of his blood rushing was filling his ears.
"Draco Lucius Malfoy, it is the opinion of the Wizengamot that you are in fact guilty of all charges brought against you-"
He thought he would faint.
"However, many of the charges took place before you were seventeen, Mr. Potter offered a compelling testimony on your behalf, and you willingly supplied memories for us to view in the Pensieve. As such, we have decided to go a different route with your punishment."
Draco sat forward in his chair, trying desperately to quiet the buzzing of his blood rushing behind his ears so he could hear.
"It is the decision of this court that you be placed on probation for five consecutive years. As part of that probation, you are to complete your seventh year at Hogwarts, following all suggestions and requirements that Minerva McGonagall sets forth with regards to your return. You will also present your wand when requested for inspection. That is all. Bring in the next prisoner."
Draco could hardly believe it—he was free to walk out for the first time in over two months. His entire family had been separated and placed into holding cells for so long, he was beginning to forget the feeling of the warm sun against his back. He felt the shackles retreat and slowly rose onto unsteady legs, dumbfounded.
When he went into the corridor, he nearly ran head first into the Headmistress herself. "Oh, Mr. Malfoy. I was hoping I'd see you today. I've got to testify against the Carrows in a while, but I came as soon as Kingsley told me about the conditions of your probation."
"Professor, I-I just want to thank you for this opportunity. I'm not the best at apologizing or thanking people…" Draco was mumbling.
McGonagall nodded curtly. "Yes, and you will spend the next year making amends to myself and everyone else in that school. Without your parents' influence, I trust you'll make the correct judgments."
"Yes, Professor, er-Headmistress."
"You will act as Head Boy, opposite Hermione Granger. You both have the highest scoring academic records out of any seventh-years and we need the image of two opposite Houses getting along. You will also attend the mandatory therapy sessions, held on Tuesdays and Thursdays in the Great Hall, as well as the castle-restoration efforts on Mondays and Wednesdays every week until school begins."
Draco tried to take it all in. It was a lot to be required of him and he knew that complying to the exact conditions would be imperative to his future. He knew better than to argue with McGonagall and simply nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
She lifted her chin and one corner of her mouth twitched. "You're being more respectful already."
He scoffed but grinned. "It's not like I have much of a choice."
She nodded again. "See you Monday, Mr. Malfoy."
o-o-o
Hermione didn't know what to expect when she stepped into the Great Hall on Monday morning. She had told Headmistress McGonagall of her desire to return and McGonagall had laid down stipulations, as she claimed she'd done with every returning former student. Everyone had to assist in restoring the castle twice a week and had to participate in group therapy sessions two more days a week. She had also said she would be assigning each of them a professor to shadow as a student teacher. They were all adults and she felt it was important that they earn their way now, a notion Hermione could appreciate.
The long tables were moved against the walls and one large circular table sat in the middle of the hall. Around it sat the returning group of former students—Seamus Finnigan, Theodore Nott, Neville Longbottom, Blaise Zabini, and Justin Finch-Fletchley. Luna Lovegood, a year younger than the rest, was seated alongside Neville, their hands clasped between them. With a pang in her heart, she realized that Luna was likely here because she had no home to return to.
Hermione walked slowly toward them, all six pairs of eyes boring into her face as she cast her own downward. No one was really speaking, all sobered by being in the Great Hall once more. The last time they were here, the bodies of their friends lined the walls. "What is he doing here?" Neville questioned, narrowing his eyes as he looked beyond Hermione.
She turned to see Draco Malfoy, well-kept but clearly haunted, saunter into the Hall. His usual arrogant swagger was dulled to a careless gait and he brushed her shoulder as he passed. "Granger," she could have sworn he uttered under his breath.
Hermione followed his figure and watched with parted lips as he took a seat between Theo and Blaise. He looks sickly. She shrugged in Neville's direction—her fellow Gryffindor paling as he stared at the pallid countenance of the Malfoy heir. His presence settled over them like an icy fog, silence ringing for a few awkward moments.
"Well, aren't we a merry bunch of arseholes," Seamus commented, earning a laugh from a few of the guys.
"This is the most mismatched group of students that could possibly have returned for seventh year," Theo conceded.
"Eighth year, for you all," Luna commented, looking at everyone in turn. "Some of you were here last year," she looked at Neville, "and some of you were educated in far beyond what the professors in this school could teach." She looked pointedly at Hermione then.
There was a plate of biscuits in the middle of the table and each of them had a goblet of pumpkin juice. Seamus lifted his glass in a toast. "Here, here. A toast to Hogwarts' first group of eighth-years—the biggest bunch of ne'er-do-wells and outsiders to ever come together!"
Theo raised his glass and the others followed suit, save for Malfoy. He remained with his arms crossed and Theo nudged him with his elbow. Malfoy rolled his eyes and reluctantly raised his glass. He was going to have to play nice if he was to meet the conditions of his probation.
McGonagall came striding in then and cleared her throat. "I trust there's no alcohol in those drinks."
"I didn't know that was an option," Seamus said cheekily and Theo laughed.
Hermione could see that they were the Gryffindor and Slytherin side of the same coin. She inwardly groaned. They were going to be trouble together, she just knew it. Never a dull year.
McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Right, well, let's get you your assignments and then I will take you to where you'll be staying."
"We won't be staying in our House dorms?" Justin asked, looking suddenly disturbed at the idea that he might have to stay in a dorm with the Slytherins.
"No, Mr. Finch-Fletchley. Those dorms are for current students. We've had to make…other accommodations."
Even Neville gulped. McGonagall began pairing everyone up and Hermione internally groaned once more when Malfoy meandered lazily to where she stood. Of course she would have to work with him, the Fates wouldn't have it any other way. She tugged on the sleeve of her jumper and the movement did not escape Malfoy's gaze. He immediately scowled and shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes trained on the floor by his right toe.
"Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy, you'll be heading up the restoration of the library. This may be an assignment that extends well beyond the next six weeks as it suffered considerable damage. Miss Granger, you will shadow Professor Hagrid in Care of Magical Creatures. Mr. Malfoy, you will shadow Professor Slughorn and Madam Pomfrey both. Poppy needs assistance with replenishing her healing potions."
She doled out the assignments to the other six, but Hermione wasn't listening. She was staring into the corner of the Great Hall, picturing Fred Weasley's body lain on the cold stone floor, his family grouped around him, shaken but thankful for those still living. She had entered a hazy memory and evidently didn't notice when McGonagall led them out of the Great Hall and towards their new dorms. "Are you coming, Granger?" Malfoy asked, waving his hand in front of her face.
She snapped out of her thoughts with a shake of her head. She could taste the pungency of the Dark magic from that day on the tip of her tongue, smell the metallic scent of blood if she only closed her eyes. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm coming."
"By all means, then. Move your arse. Neither of us knows where we're staying," he said, irritation coloring his tone.
"No need to be rude, Malfoy. Some of us lost loved ones in this room," she said to him coldly, shoving past him to follow the others.
He winced at her words and tone but sighed and followed. This was not going to be a pleasant year, Hermione decided then and there. Without Harry and Ron to act as her buffer, Malfoy's wrath was going to be directed solely at her and she hardly had the energy to deal with that any longer.
They followed the Headmistress through the castle and up to the seventh floor. There was a tapestry of Merlin himself hanging on the wall where she'd stopped. "Persnickety." The tapestry raised itself on one side and the door popped open behind. "Well, come on then."
They all climbed through the door and gathered in their new common room. It was a cozy room with a large marble fireplace. There were black leather couches and heavy dark wooden tables. Desks lined the walls with high-back, comfy-looking chairs. The entire room was decorated in a rich, royal purple instead of the usual four House colors. "This is your new House color. We need to create unity in this group. You all are adults now and the old schoolhouse rivalries need to end," she looked pointedly at the Slytherins, and Theo put a hand over his heart and mouthed 'Moi?'
"It is important for the children to see you all as role models for more than just being war heroes. We are going to call you the Wulfric House in honor of Dumbledore and your mascot will be the phoenix. We have informed Madame Malkin's so that she can sew new robes for you."
Malfoy rolled his eyes. "How very Gryffindor and Hufflepuff," he sarcastically hissed through clenched teeth. Hermione glared at him.
"There are five rooms and two bathrooms for you all to explore. Miss Lovegood, you will be in the Ravenclaw dorms, as you are still on track to graduate at the appropriate age. Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger, if you would follow me," McGonagall said, turning and waving them along.
She pushed through a door with a large phoenix burned into the wood. They followed her down a brief hall and into another, smaller common room. "I trust you can both live alongside one another without there being any problems?" she asked, looking solely at the moody wizard before her.
Malfoy shrugged and his countenance turned defensive. "I'm just trying not to go to Azkaban."
The headmistress seemed pleased with his answer and she gestured toward two wooden doors and a conjoining bathroom between. Malfoy looked into the one with 'Head Boy' burned into the door. He wrinkled his nose. Even the bedding was purple. No matter, as soon as he was settled in, he would transfigure them to his signature black.
There was a commotion in the main common room and they followed the sound of excited voices. "It overlooks the Quidditch pitch!" Blaise roared excitedly.
Malfoy ambled over to the window to join the other men, his arms crossed as he stared out over the damaged hoops and tattered House flags. Hermione looked at Luna and rolled her eyes. Men. The eighth-years had been banned from joining the Quidditch teams as part of the unifying of their new House. They were too old and had an unfair advantage over the younger students. But apparently being able to watch Quidditch practice from their window as they studied pacified them all.
"If you all would, head down to your respective assigned restoration areas and begin formulating a plan with your partners. You may leave at four o'clock each day by using the Floo Network in this fireplace. This will be your entry and exit point until the first of September. I hope that this is suitable to all of you. We really are pleased that you've decided to return once again, despite the horrors housed within these walls only a few months ago." McGonagall gave them all a strict smile and a curt nod before she turned to leave them.
Hermione stared after her retreating form as the others moved around behind her. Their voices faded as she closed her eyes and tried to clear all of their nonsensical chattering from her mind. Who honestly cared about Quidditch when no less than a dozen people had lost their lives on the path between their common room and the pitch? Who cared about Quidditch when the world was in shambles all around them and they were—quite literally—left to pick up the pieces, to mend a new world from the rubble of the old?
Her feet began to carry her away, the voices of her peers echoing loudly through her mind as she willed it to quiet for once. It registered to her that there was a second pair of footsteps following her at a distance and her hand closed around her wand instinctively. She turned swiftly, wand raised and Malfoy stood with his hands raised, a bored look on his face. "Really, Granger. Put that thing away before you take my eye out," he told her, pushing her wrist down with a harsh force. "We were told to head to the library, so I'm complying, like a good little example of the Ministry's probationary program."
He walked past her and Hermione took a few deep breaths as she turned to follow. She felt much safer following him, her wand still trained at his back from where her hand hung by her hip.
o-o-o
A/N: Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated, friends.
