Nothing Like You and I

A/N: I’ve wanted to write this story for such a long time but haven’t gotten around to it until tonight. I don’t remember where this plot bunny came from – but I wrote this first part while listening to the Verve and the Perishers. I’m not sure how long this will be – or whether it will have a happy ending, even though I like them. There might be certain dark aspects as well as silly, humorous moments. I’m trying to keep characters in character and take every review into consideration (just ask katiekrm). So please, please, please, rate and review. The story continues based on how many people like the story and review!

Songs used:
*Battle at Nimue’s Hill*
The Verve – Bittersweet Symphony
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zx3m4e45bTo

*Five Years Later*
Perishers – My Heart
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N_Qt2lZ2qXE


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Battle at Nimue’s Hill

Thundering roars erupted throughout a nearby grove of trees. What once seemed a shower of fireworks grew to a raging fire. Wizards and witches threw themselves upon the ground as everything around them shattered. Running behind a group of black robed individuals was Hermione Jean Granger. The eighteen year old Head Girl rounded the point of the group; her leg badly wounded making her limp as she ran. To her right was her best friend, Ronald Weasley, clutching the body of his younger sister Ginny. Harry Potter, the boy who lived, was a few steps behind them, casting shielding charm after shielding charm.

A group of Death Eaters, spearheaded by Lord Voldemort himself, surrounded the group. Panting heavily as they reached the top of the hill, Hermione turned when a gust of air blew toward them. Her brown curly locks were swept up, covering her face like a shallow veil. The Order Members had arrived, and much more. She nearly collapsed due to the lack of oxygen to her lungs but a pair of hands shot out and caught her falling body.

Remus Lupin held her up long enough for her to catch her breath. She nodded and held her wand out with the others as Voldemort and his group of ruthless blaggards surrounded them. His snake like eyes, red with the blood of the fallen, pierced into her soul – wanting her to vomit on the spot. Beside him was Draco Malfoy, his cobalt eyes heavily scarred from all the death he had witnessed under Voldemort’s control. His father to his right stood with his wand out, lips curled in a snarl. Bellatrix Lestrange cackled to Voldemort’s left, ducking and weaving as if she were getting ready to pounce.

“It is over,” Voldemort breathed in a deep voice, one that sent shivers up Hermione’s spine. “Those who are pureblood may join me. I see much potential in you – Weasleys.”

“Over our dead bodies!” Ron shouted, clutching onto Ginny whose head rolled onto his shoulder.

She was breathing but barely and Harry kept casting glances at her. Bill and Charlie had their wands drawn and snarled curses under their breaths at him. Fred and George poked their tongues out but looked just as furious as the rest of them.

“Very well,” Voldemort hissed, raising his hand and letting it drop.

The Death Eaters attacked – and so did the Order. Hermione found herself flat on her stomach within a minute as an unconscious body lady next to her, Remus. She brought her hand to his chest and felt it rise, a wash of relief flooded her senses. But it was cut short. Hermione jumped to her feet and joined the fight.

Wounding her wand in the air as if she were about to pitch a softball, she let go of a powerful spell that uprooted the ground under Lucius – who was fighting Mr. Weasley. Harry rounded Voldemort with the aide of Kingsley and McGonagall while Fred and George attacked the Carrows. Bill and Charlie lunged at Yaxley and Bellatrix with their own spells.

Deafening blows knocked Hermione to her side as she casted a shielding charm around Remus and Neville, who was protecting the unconscious body of their former professor. Ron and Luna had rounded the Lestrange brothers and sent them flying back over the cliff that sat straight behind them. As Hermione swung around to conjure another spell, she felt one half of her side go numb as she was hit with a stunning spell.

She fell to the ground and grasped onto her left arm, looking up through her hair. Draco Malfoy descended upon her like a Dementor, his eyes blackened with evil as he raised his wand. She shut her eyes and prepared for a blow – but never received it. Her eyes shot open when she felt the sensation of pins and needles penetrate her skin and her rise into the air, landing on her feet.

Draco held his wand out, pulling Hermione behind him as he shot a stunning spell at Fenrir Greyback. The wolf man growled, snarling dripping drool at them. His eyes were narrowed and glowing an amber color, which only meant one thing – the full moon was about to happen. He threw his wand up and swung around but Hermione acted and shot a spell from under Draco’s arm – hitting the wolf man in the chest and sent him reeling to the floor.

“Watch out!” Draco hissed as he spun around, grasping onto the top of her head to shield her when both went to the ground.

Voldemort had broken free of McGonagall and Kingsley’s binds and was firing spells in random directions. His Death Eaters were falling as Lucius fell unconscious, Bellatrix and Yaxley fell to Bill and Charlie’s spells and Luna overpowered Dolohov with the help of Ron – who had punched the Death Eater for casting a killing spell in the direction of the Ravenclaw. Hermione looked up between the stands of her hair, staring at Draco’s clenched jaw. His arms were wrapped firmly around her as if he were possessing her entire body – trying to protect it from the spells.

One by one, those who were alive and part of the Order rose and surrounded Voldemort – Draco included. They pointed their wand to him and as if he smelled defeat he let out a ghastly howl. His red eyes rounded on Hermione and he charged. Eyes widening, Hermione was thrown back as the Dark Lord collided with the body of Draco – who had shoved Hermione out of the way. A loud deafening boom was heard from the spell the Dark Lord casted and Hermione screamed.

Electric blue lightning surged through the body of Draco and followed into Voldemort as both tumbled back. She ran after the falling bodies, her hand outstretched as she bellowed out Draco’s name. His eyes were wide as the current ran through his body, his skin turning an abnormal bluish hue. Harry rushed after Hermione and grasped onto her arms as Draco and Voldemort fell over the cliff. Their bodies entangled together made a loud crunching noise as they disappeared into the dark abyss of the bottomless cliff.

“No!” Hermione finally heard her voice, slumping into Harry’s arms as tears began rolling down her cheeks.

“Draco!” Lucius’ voice overpowered her own scream as he witnessed his son disappear into death upon regaining consciousness.

He fell to his knees on the edge of the cliff and howled in pain, grasping onto the dead grass. Lucius called Draco’s name over and over but was restrained from falling into the pit by Kingsley and Charlie. He struggled but was knocked unconscious by Bill shortly after. Everyone gathered around the edge of the cliff while Hermione sobbed into Harry’s chest. The war was over but for Hermione, the battle had just begun.

Five Years Later

The sun penetrated the small cottage located near a small harbor in Scotland. A figure with loose curly brown locks groaned and rolled onto her side in an attempt to claim a few more seconds of sleep. She found that she couldn’t have any and rolled onto her back. Her eyes parted and she found herself staring at the ceiling. It had been five years and she still had the same dream – the vision of the past. As if living in the past was bad enough, having to dream it was worse.

Everyone had moved on with their lives after that faithful battle atop Nimue’s Hill – an enchanted place that was known for where lovers committed suicide together. Falling into the blackness of the cliff was supposed to represent their undying love for one another. What a load of rubbish It was, in actuality, just a silly old cliff that never ended. Some researchers tried to find the bottom of the pit – but they have been, so far, unsuccessful.

Harry had married Ginny, which was an obvious choice. Ron and Luna were together but not yet married – despite Mrs. Weasley’s protests. Both he and Ron were top Aurors at the Ministry and helped revolutionize the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Ginny played for the Harpies while Luna headed up the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes specializing in the newly discovered Nargle population.

The Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes turned out to be quite the money spinner, Fred had been married off to Angelina Johnson while George was known as a bachelor. Even though he had his fiery green eyes on a particular girl in Diagon Alley who ran the Quidditch Shop. Neville became a herbologist and married an American dueling champion he had met while traveling the world. Even Remus had a happy life fighting for the rights of werewolves everywhere – while raising his son Teddy as a single father. Hermione knew he still was grieving for the loss of Nymphadora Tonks but at least he had Teddy.

Where did that leave good ol’ Hermione Granger? At twenty-three, Hermione was the youngest assistant director for the Department of Mysteries – still headed by Lucius Malfoy. Lucius had grieved over the loss of Draco for the first three years with his wife and had received amnesty after it was revealed that he only participated in Voldemort’s scheme to save his family. Hermione thought he ought have gotten at least some years in Azkaban but because Draco sacrificed his life to ‘save the world,’ thus branding him a hero, Lucius was let off. Oh the complications of politics.

She spent the last five years studying Nimue’s Hill but had, so far, found nothing. Like many before her, she felt she was wasting her life trying to understand the complexities of the magic surrounding that cliff. And for years, she wondered if she had made even the smallest of dents. She hadn’t. And today was just like any other day for the curly-haired witch.

Hermione felt the brush of cool air blow across her form, shuttering her awake. She groaned and sat up, rubbing her eyes hard to brush away the sleeping eye boogers – as her mother used to call them – from the corners of her eyes. Smacking her lips, Hermione leaned over and grabbed a glass of water, taking several small sips. She pried the sheets from her form and hesitated when touching the floor as she always had.

Hopping on one foot and then another, Hermione hissed at the coldness of the floor and mumbled to herself to get it charmed – she never did it though. Grabbing onto her robe, she bounced into her bathroom and closed the door with one foot. Warm water sprayed from her shower as she stepped in and let it sprinkle across her body.

She was no longer a little know-it-all, rather a big know-it-all. Standing at her petite five foot three, Hermione had long curls of brown hair that grew out of its rather coarse and bunched texture to become silky smooth. Her skin was soft and just a slight shade of peach and she had filled out rather well. Having the typical ‘S’ form – as Ginny once called it – Hermione was the picture of beauty in most eyes. If she took the time to take care of herself

In fact, she never spent too much time in front of a mirror. Merely washing her body and hair, shaving her legs, and pat drying her body – Hermione did nothing to her form. She didn’t wear make-up nor did she use Good Hair Day as it took way too much time out of her day. Not to mention she was hardly looking for some one in that fashion. Suffice to say, dating had been an awkward moment in her life and she was not eager to jump back into the dating pool just yet.

Her hand reached out and shut the water out as she took several deep breaths. She hated, absolutely hated, having to step out of a shower when it was warm and toasty inside. She peeled the curtain back quickly, prepared to make a dash for her towel but let out a horrified screech instead.

“YOU!” She screamed, using the curtain as a shield, “Get out! Get out!”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” came the voice of the person sitting on Hermione’s sink. “Like I wanted to see you naked, Granger.”

“If you didn’t then why the hell did you come in? You could have stayed outside!” She snarled, reaching out as far as she could to grasp onto a towel and pull it to her. “Turn around!”

“Fine,” he drawled, turning his head as Hermione wrapped the towel around her form.

She brushed her wet sticky curls from her face and stepped out of the shower. Coming face to face with the Pepping Tom who had been annoying her for the last five years, four and a half really, Hermione scowled.

“What do you want now?” She asked, moving to brush her teeth.

“Your cat needs to take a piss,” he replied, jumping off of the sink and stood against the wall with his arms crossed, “He had been mewing the entire time you spent wanking off in the shower.”

“Excuse me?” Hermione said with a loud gasp as she shoved a toothbrush into her mouth, “You wouldn’t know what I do in the shower – so sod off!”

“As much as I’d love to – I’m kind of stuck, so hurry up.”

“Bloody prick.”

“Bloody hippie.”

She turned and glared at him and he at her. Hermione finished brushing and swished mouthwash in her cheeks before moving straight through her intruder – his body fluctuating slightly. Neither one of them shivered, which she had once found odd, but was now used to it. Hermione was followed by the Peeping Tom as she made it into her bedroom but slammed the door shut in his face. Like that’d keep him out. It did for the time being – allowing her to dress in her usual work robes.

The door opened and she walked past Peeping Tom and into the kitchen where Crookshanks was pawing at the glass, mewing loudly. She pouted a little and slid the door open for her cat to pounce around outside. Peeping Tom had taken a seat at her kitchen table while she made coffee, having to have her usual caffeine fix, and stood by the window staring outside.

“Knut for your thoughts?” Peepers asked, lifting his feet to put them on the table.

“Five years,” she whispered, her chocolate eyes meeting his, “Five years and nothing. Don’t you think something is wrong?”

“Maybe you’re not looking in the right places,” Peepers said with a shrug, “I’d help but you know…”

“Yes, I know.” Hermione continued, looking at the coffee pot as it filled with her dark coffee goodness, “It’s just. It’s so frustrating. Sometimes I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Peepers leaned forward, pulling his legs from the table, and leaned forward on his forearms. “Maybe you already lost your mind. Maybe you’re mental. War does that to people.”

“You know, if you can’t say anything nice you shouldn’t say anything at all,” Hermione lectured, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

“Where’d you hear that load of rubbish,” he asked snorting with a laugh, “I was always taught to speak your mind, even if it’s the utter truth.”

“Look where that’s got you,” she replied, sipping at her mug, “I need to get real friends. I’m going nutters talking to you all day.”

“You had friends,” Peepers replied, pursing his lips slightly, “Not my fault they think you’re nutters.”

“Unh, whatever,” Hermione finished sipping her coffee in silence – spending her time staring out the window. “I’m going to see your father today. Want to come along?”

Peepers shrugged, “Not like I haven’t seen him eighteen years of my life before. Now that he can’t chastise me there’s really no point – unless I want to see him chastise you.”

“He thinks I’m the reason you…” Hermione brought her eyes to him, “I’m the reason you’re not here. Well, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” he replied, looking out the glass door, “I think I’m going to go to Rome. Visit my mother. She’s been doing quite well you know. I like to watch her gossip, she makes the funniest faces.”

“Eavesdropping is not very nice,” Hermione laughed, dumping her coffee into the sink as she rinsed her mug and put it out to dry.

“True, but Slytherin remember? We like listening to gossip and besides, there’s not very much a dead man can do now is there?”

Hermione shrugged and walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. Peepers followed her as she opened the closet and pulled her traveling cloak on.

“Why do you have to dress like that, Granger?” Peepers asked, leaning on the threshold wall with his arms crossed, “You’re not exactly a stick figure with no attributes”

Hermione snorted, “So much for ‘I don’t want to see you naked’ eh?”

“Just because I don’t want to see you naked doesn’t mean I haven’t,” He shrugged, grinning at her wickedly, “You like it when I watch.”

“Disgusting,” Hermione shook her head as she buttoned her traveling cloak, “Don’t wait up.”

“I never do.”

She nodded and made her way to the hearth, stepping into it as she grabbed a handful of Floo powder.

“Oi, Granger?” Peepers called, causing Hermione to advert her eyes to him.

“What?”

“You’re not nutters. I take that back,” He said wistfully, “But then again, I’m not exactly alive now am I?”

“Malfoy,” Hermione whispered, “I don’t know. I really don’t. Just…don’t cause trouble.”

“Like watching a certain Mudblood shower?”

“Gross and uncalled for. Good day.” Hermione dropped the Floo into the heart and was wrapped up into an envelope of green flames.

It had been five years. Five years since the death of Draco Malfoy and five years of being haunted by him. No one else saw him, felt him, heard him, only her. Maybe she was really going mental.