When Our Children Fight Our Wars

A/N:
This chapter was giving me some issues at first, but I think I've managed to make it work. My beta was going crazy with the number of re-writes I ended up sending her! (She still hasn't seen all of them because I don't want to bother her too much. >.o)

Also, don't get used to these fast updates. The only reason I'm posting so soon is because this chapter is finished and I'm afraid I'll keep adding unnecessary parts to it, haha. Generally, I obssess over my writing and keep on adding and adding and adding and adding and adding and. . .you get the point. So updates along the way will probably be considerably slower.

Thanks for reading!

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo



Chapter Two: So Let's Give It Up For The New Year!


Hermione beamed as she stood up and heard the resounding applause ringing throughout the Great Hall. She would have thought it was merely the students being polite, but when she looked around, all she saw was a sea of approving smiles. Laughing happily, she wiped the corners of her eyes and gave a little curtsy before making her way to the table that set aside for the Head Boy and Girl. She truly was touched that most of the student body was happy with her being chosen for Head Girl.

She realized, of course, that this was all probably due to the part she had played in the war, but Hermione found that that made her feel a deeper sense of pride and appreciation for her classmates - some of whom had been fighting alongside her. She was overwhelmed and continued smiling stupidly as Headmistress McGonagall stood up to announce Blaise as Head Boy.

"All right. Settle down, settle down. I'm sure you are all anxious to hear who your Head Boy is this year, but -" Professor McGonagall's words were momentarily drowned out by the affirmative cheers from her students. "but", she continued loudly, "there are a few things that need to be said and explained about this particular appointment."

At this statement, the students all looked to one another, confused. Even Hermione's brow furrowed as she looked over at Blaise and cocked an eyebrow. His response to that was a shrug and a pointed nod at their Headmistress.

So Hermione fixed her gaze upon McGonagall and waited for her to speak. When she did, all noise from the students died down almost immediately. None of them had ever heard of a Head Boy scandal and they were all extremely curious as to what had gone on.

"I must start off by saying that I offer my sincerest apologies to Draco Malfoy." She paused as if expecting all hell to break loose once again. When it did not, she continued. "Mister Malfoy is a young man who deserves our respect for more than one reason. He is not only second in his year, but he is a renowned war hero. I wish that I could say that this fine young man is our Head Boy this year, but he is not. To say that he does not deserve this title would be wrong, but because of the prejudices against his surname that some of your parents hold, we cannot, in good conscience, appoint him.

"Draco Malfoy, would you please join me for a moment."


Draco had tuned out the speech McGonagall was giving at least five minutes ago. He hated listening to her apologize for snatching the one thing he had been looking forward to for the last six years of his life. Not only was the gesture pissing him off, it was simply wrong. If she was going to make such a fuss over him and tell everyone how great he really was. . .then why not just let him have the bloody title? It was infuriating.

It was only after Blaise nudged him in the arm and nodded towards the Headmistress that Draco realized, with annoyance, she wanted him to get up and walk over to her.

When he reached her, she smiled and patted him on the shoulder before turning back to tables of students and began to talk again. As Draco listened, he became more and more disgusted. All the deeds she was talking about were, in fact, performed by him; but she made it sound like he'd had some huge moral turnaround or something. And that was most definitely not the case. Not at first anyway.

Deep down, Draco knew that he was a twisted little shit. Even though he had come to terms with that fact and decided that it wasn't entirely his fault, it still bothered Draco a bit. All he truly cared about was himself and although he'd been an unimaginably wonderful asset to The Light during the war. . .he didn't give a crap about any of them when he first joined up. All the fucked up "morals" and standards his parents had taught him were obsolete. Dead. Even he stopped believing the pureblood crap a long time ago. But what was he to do without a sense of right and wrong? Teach himself? No. That wasn't a subject you learned from a book.

That was probably why he loathed the damn Trio so much. They were so squeaky clean that when he wasn't keeping his emotions in check, Draco felt like dirt next to them. It was as if they had this great, sappy, love-filled life that Draco had often dreamed of when he was younger. Even though he had all the money in the world at his daddy's disposal, he had no sense of comfort. No place where he felt totally safe. Well, outside of Hogwarts anyway. He had realized during the war just how different he was from normal people - like the Golden Three and their comrades - and he had come to hate himself for it. Of course he would never tell anyone that bit of information.

Draco would admit that, initially, he joined The Light to show everyone that he could be good too. He was Draco Fucking Malfoy; he could do whatever he put his mind to! . . .But that whole purpose had faded quickly and he'd only stuck with that side because of the sheer fact that it was the one that was winning. Nothing more. As previously stated, his morals back then were pretty much a blank slate. Thankfully he had them now.

Morals, that is.

And it was all thanks to - would you believe it? - Molly Weasley. Much to Draco's dismay, she'd taken him under her wing and made it her mission to whip some sense into him. She had made it a point of hers to make Draco feel comfortable and went about her work on him when nobody else was around. Draco had caved almost immediately. He had confided in and depended on Molly to a seriously embarrassing extent. And yet, she never seemed to mind. She was the only nurturing influence Draco had encountered in his entire life and he came to regard her as some kind of saint.

Not that he'd tell anyone that bit of information either. Not ever.

Clearing his thoughts and looking back at the Headmistress, Draco inaudibly sighed. To someone who hadn't known him his whole life, his face was unreadable. Blaise, of course, could see Draco's annoyance like a beacon and rolled his eyes discreetly. It was just like Draco to do a complete 180 and stop liking abundant praise. What the hell had happened to him during the war? He'd have to ask him about it all later. For now, though, he turned his attention back to McGonagall.


"Mister Malfoy even went against his own fam-"

"Professor!"

Professor McGonagall blinked twice, shocked that she'd been interupted, before turning towards the noise. It was only at that very second - when he noticed she was looking at him - that Draco realized it was his voice that had stopped McGonagall's speech.

. . . . . .nbxujsbwokkjdwShitfuck.

"I don't think all this fanfare is necessary. I understand and respect your decision," You wish. "And that's all that matters, right? I accept your apology and would very much like to get on with dinner." At this, some of the students - and even a few teachers - chuckled and nodded.

So they think I'm being witty and chummy. And here I meant to come off as an arse. Bloody fucking brilliant.

"Please, Professor. Continue with the announcement of who will be Head Boy this year." If my parents were good for one thing, it was teaching me to be able to think on my feet. he thought bitterly.

There were scattered Here, here!s and McGonagall nodded curtly. "Thank you for the invitation to continue, Mister Malfoy. Now, it is well-known that Blaise Zabini-" at this, people looked at each with amused expressions. It was a known fact that Zabini was not third in his year. What was he being appointed for?

McGonagall sighed. "If you would all stop fussing, I would like to make this announcement. The sooner you allow me to do so, the sooner you all will be able to eat." Immediately, the students quieted down. "Now, as I was saying, Blaise Zabini is not third in his year, nor is his disciplinary record perfect. He is however fourth in his year and a Slytherin. Since Draco Malfoy is a Slytherin and he was supposed to be Head Boy, we decided it would be best to appoint another Slytherin. Blaise Zabini is, for lack of a better term, the next best thing. That being said, I am proud to announce that the position of Head Boy will be given to Mister Zabini."

Reluctance was hurriedly pushed aside by the students. Zabini wasn't so bad, right? Besides, Malfoy was still a prat. Their professors knew what they were doing; it was surely better this way.

After only a few seconds, the Great Hall was ringing once again.

---------------------------------------------

"Memory." Muttered Blaise before stepping aside and placing his hand on Hermione's back to help her through the portrait hole. After the portrait of The Fairies swung shut behind them, Blaise merely let his arm fall from Hermione's back to her waist, pulling her slightly closer to him and making her cheeks turn an attractive shade of pink.

"I. . . . . .Hmm." Hermione started, then ended with a frown. She was rarely at a loss for words and it bothered her that she could not think of something to talk about. She blamed it on her need for sleep. She hadn't gotten a full night's rest in weeks. Too many memories and too many nightmares.

Here comes a great conversation starter. Blaise though sarcastically before speaking softly.

"I expect Draco will be here in a few minutes."

"I figured as much." Hermione said with a sigh before walking to the red armchair she just had spotted and all but falling onto it. She smiled, feeling herself sink into the cushioned seat, and closed her eyes. The nearby fireplace was a nice touch; and the warmth from it felt heavenly.


As Hermione slowly nodded off, Blaise watched her with a careful eye. The pull he felt to the girl was undeniable, but he couldn't be sure whether or not it would be wise to pursue a romantic relationship with her. It was odd, he realized, that he was even worrying about such things. Normally Blaise would have used his charm until the girl he wanted gave in and he got to give her the shag of her life. But Hermione was different. One would have realized that after talking with the girl for mere minutes. What had drawn Blaise in, though, was her pain.

The conversation that had taken place on the train, shortly after Hermione had started to cry, was something that had gotten through Blaise's nonchalance and truly made him feel for the girl across the room from him. The few words she spoke about he war stuck with him, too.

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"Everything was happening so fast. We saw people's lives ending on a daily basis, we saw loved ones taken away. . .we watched children lose everything they had and become adults in a matter of days. Hell, we were those children."

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"But weren't you worried for your own safety?"

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "I didn't have time to worry about my safety. In the long run, I was just another body. Another asset. Sure, I was one of the ones who really made a difference in the war. . .But still; I couldn't stop and think to myself 'Oh no! I could die today!'; because that was obvious. A given."

Blaise stared at her, not knowing what to say. When he finally found his voice, he asked her another question.

"And what about those people who fought beside you who you had hated your whole life? How did you put all that aside? . . . . .How did you fight alongside Draco?"

At this remark, Hermione gave Blaise a real smile.

"I just did. It was a no-brainer. We were saving the world."

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Of all the things she had told him, that last bit was what had shocked Blaise the most. Hermione was one hell of a woman, that was for sure. He just had to work out how he felt about her because, in truth, he was new to this whole notion. The one where he cared about what a girl thought and felt. The whole thing was completely foreign to Blaise. Uncharted territory.

He wanted to explore it.


Though he wasn't necessarily a close friend of Hermione's, Blaise felt that he could be if he tried. He found himself wanting really wanting to try, too; he felt that he wanted that kind of closeness and understanding with someone other than Draco. And it wasn't because he thought any less of Draco; that wasn't it at all. It was just the fact that he was just now realizing how sad it was that he only had one true friend.

Besides, Blaise wouldn't want to deal with a real romance right now. He wouldn't know how to. And he got the feeling that that's what he would getting himself into if he went down that road with Hermione. So he needed to just stay friend with her. Nothing more.

Blaise wondered idly if amicable closeness with Hermione would be enough for him.

He hoped so, because that's what he decided he was going to go for. Friendship. He could do it, right?


Before he was able to think on that, the portrait hole opened again and Draco came striding in with the grimace he'd been wearing since dinner.

"Ah, the hero makes his grand entrance." Blaise said with a smirk as he gave Draco a low bow before receiving the swift kick to his side that he'd been expecting. He chuckle-coughed as Draco gave his own version of a greeting.

"Stuff it, Zabini."

". . .If that's what you wish, oh Great One."

Draco glared at Blaise for a good two minutes before sighing, laughing in a hollow sort of way, and rolling his shoulders back to loosen the muscles there.

"She's a real trip, isn't she? Making me sound like some huge pussy who stands for nothing but truth and justice."

Blaise gave no answer, knowing perfectly well that a tirade was about to be in session. All he could do was sit on the couch - which was trimmed gold and silver - and hope that Draco wouldn't be loud enough to wake Hermione.

"I mean, really. Who does she think she is, saying all those things about me?"

"I don't know, Draco. Maybe she thinks she's the Headmistress." Blaise said quietly as he stared up at the ceiling ina bored fashion.

"Don't even start, Blaise. I never asked for anyone's approval, pity, or praise. Most of them don't even know what happened. She probably doesn't know what happened. I barely even saw McGonagall on the front lines!"

When he noticed Blaise's stoic expression, Draco frowned. "Are you even listening? I'm being serious here."

"I know you are. Please; continue with your rant about how much you hate McGonagall. Merlin, what a bitch she is! Saying all that wonderful shit about you. Gosh, Draco. I'd be furious if anyone complimented me to that extent! However do you put up with it?!"

He hadn't meant to sound spiteful at first, but Blaise soon realized how upset he was. His pride and glory had all gone down the drain during that speech at dinner and he was left feeling like a very sore loser. How could Draco possibly be upset over so much praise? It made no sense at all. Had he really changed that much? Was he now. . . . .humble?

No, that was impossible. But then why was he so crazed about his good deeds being laid before everyone? Who was this person standing in front of him?

"Hnnn?"


Immediately, Blaise's gaze shifted from the ceiling to the red armchair in which Hermione had been sleeping. Shit.

"What's all this? Blaise, are you all right?"

Hmm. . .Let's see. My best friend is being a selfish prat - as usual, the whole school now knows for a fact that I'm second best to aforementioned friend, I feel like shit, and I woke you up. I'm bloody wonderful.

"I'm fine, Hermione. Sorry I woke you. I thought for sure that Draco would have been the one to do that tonight." He gave a quick glare at his friend as he said this.

Draco merely glared right back. "What are trying to say, Blaise?" he questioned icily.

"I don't know, Draco. Maybe I'm trying to say that whenever you're angry, you're liable to yell at me about it until you feel better. And the thing about that is, the noise is enough to wake up a deaf old bat; obviously it would have been enough to wake Hermione." He muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Hermione to make out all the words.

"Wait, what?"

"Nothing; forget it, Draco. I'm going to bed."

Hermione looked between the two, her brow furrowed. Weren't they best mates. . . ?

"Night Hermione." Blaise said, walking over to place a kiss on her cheek. "Draco." He said with a nod.

And then he was up the stairs, shutting the door behind him as he walked into his room.

For five minutes it was silent.

Draco was letting himself cool down and Hermione was trying to piece together what had happened. When she thought Draco was somewhat approachable, she cleared her throat to talk.

With a sigh and an eye roll, Draco looked over at her.

"Yes?"

"I. . . Um. . . .That is. . . .You see. . . . ."

She was given the response of another another eye roll, then "Merry Merlin, Granger. Spit it out."

Hermione glared at him as he continued to look at her. He was now amused; she could tell. It bothered her.

"Fine."

. . . . . . . . .

"Go on, then."

After another short moment, Hermione finally found her nerve.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Excuse me?"

"With Blaise."

Draco made a face and looked away. Why did she even care? Was she just nosy or was she actually curious as to what made Blaise angry? Either way, Draco wasn't ready to discuss it; not with anyone.
Especially not with her, and especially since he didn't even know what the hell just happened.

After some very serious thought (in which Draco thought on the many places he would rather be and all the witches he would much rather be with) Draco decided to not pour out his heart like some kind of sissy.

"Wouldn't you like to know, Granger."

Hermione frowned and rolled her eyes.

So he was being difficult. She figured he would be, but it still bothered her a bit. She would have very much liked to revert back to her former way of dealing with Draco and hex whatever it was out of him, but she had noticed his behavior towards her was a bit milder than usual since their first encounter on the train. Probably Blaise's influence.

"Actually I would." Didn't expect honesty, did you, Malfoy?

. . . . . . . .

"Well I hardly see how its any of your business." Shut down, Granger.

. . . . . . . .

"Blaise is my friend." Ah, the friend card. Can't be beat.

. . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Mine first." Draco said with a smirk.

. . . . . . . .

Touche, Malfoy. Touche.


In the silence that followed, Draco found himself staring at Granger. She had begun to doze off again and was squirming around under a blanket she'd conjured up for herself minutes ago. He realized, with surprise, that he hadn't even insulted her once since Blaise had told him to play nice. That was almost a full day! It was surely a world record.

One that was causing Draco some distress.

Ever since he had saved her life, Draco had felt like he hated Granger even more. For what, he didn't know; but he tried to avoid acknowledging her existence whenever he could. That's why when Blaise had decided to get friendly with her, it bothered him. She was a constant reminder of how horrible he really was.

The extent of her virtue mirrored the extent of his wickedness. Though he did feel some semblance of guilt about it now, Draco couldn't even begin count the number of times he'd caught himself thinking If only I had let her die. . ..

In all fairness, though, he had gotten severely fucked over after pushing her out of the way and that's why, at first, Draco had wished he'd stayed out of Granger's fight. His own father was the one who had seen him save her and had sent too many curses to count that were meant to torture but not kill.

Yeah. There really was no such thing as the easy life everyone seemed to think Draco had. He'd had to grow up almost the minute he could comprehend the world around him and though he appeared to be a spoiled little poof. . . . .That's just what he wanted the world to see.

Looking back on it all now, though, the only regret Draco had was that he hadn't been the one to kill Lucius Malfoy, his father. To this day, he didn't know who had been the one to actually do it.


Dragging himself out of his thoughts for the second time that night, Draco focused on the girl he was looking at. He knew now that saving her had definitely been the right choice. He had known that all along, of course, but being this close to her. . . .watching her chest rise and fall in the most basic of human actions - breathing. . .Well, it made Draco feel ten times more reassured that he'd done the right thing. In fact, he was glad he did it.

Imagine that. he thought to himself with a small smile.

Draco was finding that in the dim light of the common room, it was easier to think those thoughts that had been off-limits to him all his life; those thoughts that could shake his entire world if he let them take over. It was also easier, in this shadowy setting, for Draco to realize what it was that was different about Granger. And what a slap in the face that realization was.

When the fuck. . . . . ?!

He felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him, he was that shocked. He felt like he wanted to scream with both horror and fascination. But most of all, Draco felt like he wanted to go find a marble wall and bang his head against it. Because his world was over.

His world was over and Granger was gorgeous.


After sitting in shock and staring at her for a good five minutes, Draco blinked and looked away.

I'm seeing things. he reassured himself as he stood up abruptly and made to flee the scene of his own transgression.

How the hell could I have even thought that? Its Granger.

Granger, Granger, Granger, Granger, GRANGER, DAMMIT!!!!!!

. . . . .'Gorgeous Granger', it sounds like a type of doll. . . . .Wait, what the?! - No! Ugly. Yucky. Frizz Face. Beaver Girl. Gorgeous. Bookworm. Know-it-All. Bushy Hair. Gorgeous.

Incidentally, he knocked right into an end table and a tin something-or-other fell to the floor with a clanging sound.

Sonuvabitch.

My life is shit, my luck is shit, my friends are shit, my bloody fucking mind is going to shit. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Shit.


"Are you all right?! What's going on?!" came the worried voice of Granger as she sprang up and into life at the sound.

She was still on alert, he noticed. For some reason that made him a bit uncomfortable; disheartened even. He had figured that with all their candy bars, sunshines, and rainbows. . .the Trio would come out of the war better than anyone. He depended on it, actually.

To some extent. . . ., he thought, the whole world did.

These three young adults were special. Gifted. Precious. Of course they would come out okay in the end. Nothing could break through their kindness and love. They were the ones everyone looked to for guidance and hope; certainly they would hug, kiss, cry and be done with it. Easy as pie for those three!

. . .Wouldn't that be grand. Draco thought bitterly. He only now realized how absurd those notions were and felt extremely stupid for thinking them himself.

He had thought he was the only one who still sometimes got the feeling that the war wasn't over. And he only felt that sometimes because for the most part he was over it. Apparently Granger wasn't. And it made him pity her. Just a bit. A teeny, tiny bit.

And this has nothing to do with how she looks. I'd feel just as bad if it were Potter. . . . . . . .maybe.

Within seconds, Draco heard her hurried footsteps behind him. Inwardly, he groaned.

"Yes, I'm fine, Granger. I was just leaving."

". . . .Oh. All right. Shall I show you out or. . .something?" she asked, not really knowing what to say. This was Malfoy after all and she wasn't exactly used to being polite with him. She was also extremely tired due to her emotionally draining day and wasn't thinking straight.

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"If I were Blaise, I'd go with the 'or something'." He said sarcastically. "But I'm not, so I'll be perfectly happy with leaving. Without your help, thank you." He added when she took another step forward.

He was taking great strides towards the door, hoping to put some distance between him and his Most Embarrassing Thought About Granger In The History Of Sane Wizards - as if running away to his dorm would help him run away from his thoughts. He stopped, though, when he heard her small voice a few feet behind him.

"You're wrong about that. Just so you know."

"On the contrary, I'm quite right."

"You're aren't at all actually. You assume that there is something going on between me and Blaise. There isn't."

Draco shook his head and chuckled, not knowing why he was getting a bit more angry than before about the whole Blaise and Granger thing. He figured he felt betrayed by Blaise. There was no way in hell he was jealous of Blaise having Granger. . . . . .right?

"Listen, Granger; I know Blaise."

"Yes, I'm aware. But so do I." She countered, getting a little miffed that he was taking her denials lightly. She really didn't think of Blaise as anything more than a friend! Why couldn't Malfoy see that?

More interestingly. . . .Why did she feel it was so important that he did?

"Not as well as I do. You and I both know that for a fact, so stop acting like you have some kind of claim on him. Like you know him better than me. Its pathetic."

After this, Hermione went quiet for a few minutes. She really didn't know why he thought she wanted to steal Blaise away from him when all she was trying to do was defend her feelings.

"Haven't you ever heard of friendship, Malfoy? Well if you haven't, then let me offer you two perfect examples of friendships. Both are different types of friendships, but friendships nonetheless.

"First example? Your friendship with Blaise. This is what is called a best friendship. This kind of relationship is developed over a long period of time, or a shorter period of time in which the two people involved get to know one another like no other.

Side Note. A best friendship like the one mentioned - between Misters Malfoy and Zabini, if you remember correctly - should not be lost over a stupid thing like which one of them is Head Boy. It is a precious relationship that deserves to persevere through such trifling matters."

Hermione stopped momentarily when she noticed Malfoy turning and looking at her with an odd expression.

". . . .You're completely barmy, aren't you, Granger?" he asked, though he felt a certain wave of intrigue for the Griffindor. She was trying, actually making an effort to be kind to him. Before he could say or think anything more about that, she was talking again. To his surprise, he found that he was not at all reluctant to listen.

"Example Two. The friendship between Blaise Zabini and myself, Hermione Granger. This is an example of what I like to refer to as is the 'budding friendship'. In this stage of the game, the friendship between the two involved parties is in its primary stage, but the potential for it to grow is there. And the friendship between the two people will, most likely, grow -"

"Grow into a beautiful, blossoming romance." Draco ended for her in a light, mocking tone he didn't even realize he was comfortale using with her until it was used already.

"Dripping with all kinds of sweet nectar." Came the familiar, silky voice, belonging to Blaise, from the stairs behind Hermione.

Hermione found herself rolling her eyes, laughing lightly, and shaking her head. "Into a solid friendship. Nothing more."

"We'll see Granger." Draco said at last, giving her a genuine chuckle before exiting through the portrait hole and feeling very strange. Mostly because he'd just enjoyed being in the same room as Granger and was still battling it out with himself whether or not she was good-looking. . . . .But he was telling himself he was nauseous. Lying in order to protect himself was the best he could do right now.


As Hermione made her way to her room after saying goodnight to Blaise, she was harboring feelings about the blond wizard that were similar to his own confusion. They were thinking along the same lines, though they were a whole castle apart.

Did that really just happen?

It almost felt to Draco like it was some kind of uber fucked up dream. . . .but no. It really had happened. He really had just opened his eyes to Hermione Granger. Her little lesson on friendship - which Blaise had definitely heard - had just saved his ass and his own, most important, friendship. Did this mean he was going to all of a sudden be gracious and stop hating her? Of course not. But it did make him want to be a teensy bit more cooperative.

Settling down in his bed after a long and interesting day, Draco sighed contentedly. He needed sleep and he was happy to be able to get it. He would work out everything tomorrow. Especially that whole Granger issue.


-----------------------------------------------

Over in her part of the castle, Hermione was feeling a mixture of satisfaction and excitement. She knew that by giving an outside perspective, she would have gotten through to Malfoy; but the fact that Blaise had heard everything too, and accepted an unspoken forgiveness. . .Well, that just made Hermione happy. She had seen too many friendships warped because of the war and it gave her hope to see one that was strong enough to deal with the changes that had taken place.

Even if the relationship was between two Slytherin. And, she supposed, even if it involved Malfoy.

At the thought of his name, Hermione's thoughts drifted to times and places she would very much like to forget. She had developed a kind of cold, tolerated respect for Malfoy during the war. He had been one of their best fighters, after all. What else was she supposed to do? She had heard Ron and Harry complaining about him from time to time - okay, no. All the time - but she had rarely been around Malfoy to see if any of the accusations and rants were justified. In fact, they had only fought alongside one another in The Great Fight (not the last battle, but the biggest and bloodiest). She figured she barely knew Malfoy since his supposed change of heart and decided early on that she was willing to give everyone a chance this year. Even him.

The war was over. Grudges were hardly important. She just hoped that he'd give her a chance too. Not because she was particularly fond of the blond wizard, but because she simply didn't have the energy, nor the emotional capacity to deal with a daily row with him.

So, she hoped.


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After their semi-friendly exchange, one thought seemed to resound in both Draco's and Hermione's heads until they drifted off to sleep:

What happens next?


xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

A/N#2:
I'm actually going to beg this time. PLEASE REVIEW! I'd really enjoy the feedback! I'd also really like to know how you all felt about this chapter because it was a bit tricky to work out the kinks. Let me know!

The chapter title comes from the song "Resolution" by Motion City Soundtrack.

Oh Lord. Please don't listen to it just to "get the feel of this chapter". The song as a whole doesn't fit at all. I just thought that particular phrase did. Usually I pick a line from a song that goes well with the chapter, but a bunch of different things happened here, so that was difficult.