Chapter Text
HERMIONE
“Hermione….” Luna’s dreamy voice said gently. I blinked a few times, sleep dissipating slowly from my eyes.
“Hmm. Are we here?” I asked, voice hoarse. Luna nodded with her permanent half smile.
I had apparently slept the entire train ride to Hogwarts. It had probably been the most sleep I had been gifted, since the last time I had set foot in the school. I suppose I expected to feel at least partially refreshed, however my body felt sluggish and my eyes were ready to close once more. Typical. Well rested wasn’t a feeling particularly meant for me. I looked around, securing my beaded bag and wand. I had shared the train compartment with Ginny and Luna, having fallen asleep almost immediately upon the train moving. The three of us made our way out of the main cabins and out to locate our trunks. I was somewhat relieved that this was a chain of events I was familiar with. I simply could not muster the energy to go through the motions of walking to the carts and checking back into the castle with much enthusiasm.
After the war, I had decided that once the dust had mostly settled, I would return to Hogwarts and complete my education. “Eighth year”, they were calling it. Everyone knew it was a seventh year repeat, but no one had dared make light of this minor fact. In fact, any mention of eighth year students had been specifically avoided by most of the student body. We were the taboo class.
I had spent the days after the war’s ending volunteering at the school’s infirmary. Once the bodies had been cleared and the immediately injured had been tended to, the long term patients had been transferred to St. Mungo’s for further treatment. I had holed myself up in my empty old dorm until those few weeks had passed, mostly in a blur. I had then moved into the Burrow with Harry and the Weasley family.
Harry, Ron and I had kept busy there as well, with the hustle and bustle of the crowded home. A home now layered with the ever present grief of Fred’s loss, Molly Weasley’s ever looming anxiety over her remaining brood, Arthur Weasley’s exhausted updates from the ministry and the group’s general attempts at slowly moving forward in our respective lives.
Harry had taken comfort in Ginny’s strength. They often took walks and sat out in the fields, enjoying each other’s quiet company. There was no need to fill their space with chatter. At least not at first. With time, Harry would slowly bring things up and Ginny patiently listened. The bond between the two growing and changing from their school crush into something deep and strong.
Ron had approached me shortly after my arrival at the home to request that we speak privately. He had confessed to me, that while he harbored feelings for me that were more complicated than a regular friendship, he did not wish to proceed with a romantic relationship. He had explained (better than I had expected him to) that the grief of losing his brother, the trauma from the war and the aftermath that he now faced was too much to bear for him to have a girlfriend. Especially “one as remarkable as you, who deserves more than the scraps of attention I could offer.” He had said. Ron believed that we made better best friends than we would a couple. He had looked at me, eyes full of worry, throat bobbing, expecting the worst. I took his words in and sagged with relief upon hearing them. I responded to him with a tight hug and a teary eyed laugh.
“Thank Merlin. Ron, I really appreciate you telling me this. I actually feel exactly the same. There’s no way I could give this a shot right now. But you are right, even if this wasn’t all looming over us, we are much better at being friends.” I had said from the heart.
Ron had smiled at me and with the squeeze of a hand, changed the subject to lunch and other mundane tasks. I received the hint. This conversation would be put away, safely in our memory banks and not brought up again. I would later process that the feelings I had felt towards my friend may have been more complicated than I had given them credit for. I had been just a school girl, expected by all to have a boyfriend at some point. Ron had seemed like a safe and easy choice. Until he wasn’t. After the debacle of fourth year, when he had dated Lavender Brown and given me a hard time about my Yule Ball date, I had felt drawn to his hard to get vibe. I had mistakenly considered him an easy conquest and Ron had proven more aloof and difficult to reign in romantically than I had expected. Always up to a challenge, I set out on a misguided attempt to have him return my so called feelings. And I had been somewhat successful in, at the minimum, confusing his platonic love for me as something more. But once the reality of the war had settled and we had kissed over the rubble of battle, we quickly came to realize that our school yard game had stemmed from a place of curiosity and conquest. Not from real romantic feelings. The realization had disappointed many of our immediate friends and family, as most expected the two of us to end up together.
I pulled my focus from my thoughts to find myself face to face with the thestral that would pull our cart to the castle. I was still in awe that I could see them. I had not seen one this closely before, after all of the death I had recently witnessed. I reached for the snout of the beast before me, gently, reverently. I exhaled at the contact, the leathery skin warm beneath my fingers. In that moment, I felt a sudden and overwhelming sense of peace wash over me as the animal’s energy hummed beneath my hand. I had never felt this sense of calm in my life. I opened my eyes, not realizing I had closed them.
“Hermione, dear…. Are you coming?” Luna once more prodded, gently. I nodded and gathered myself to climb the cart. I wondered how many more times I would need Luna to pull me out of whatever cloud my mind insisted on living in. I huffed a frustrated sigh and sat up straight.
“I’m sorry I’m being such a sloth tonight. I am inexplicably exhausted.” I attempted to explain to my friends.
“Inexplicably?” Ginny asked with a smile. “Mione, you have barely slept in the last week in preparation for our return.”
I had, in fact, fussed over every detail regarding our new year. I tried to focus on the courses I had left unfinished, the ones I wanted to dump, the ones I wanted to start anew. I had let Mrs. Weasley repair some of my old robes and had made a trip to Diagon Alley in the week prior to obtain a few items of supplies. I had attempted to focus on the one thing in this world that had made me feel normal. Education. I was certain that if I were able to return to the castle, to the classrooms, to my parchment, quills and books, that I would regain a semblance of normalcy. I might be able to find the missing links to the chain that was my life. I could get back on track to finishing school and deciding what to do with my future. I could find the key to fully restoring my parents memories of me. I believed I could get back on track to where I had left off. And once normalcy was returned to me, I would be able to start to heal and move forward. This was the plan I had formulated over the summer.
Harry had felt that he did not have the headspace to give schoolwork any attention. He promised himself and his friends that he would complete his classes remotely and test out of his NEWTS when the time came. It had been an option that all interrupted seventh years had been given and most had taken with open arms. Harry had planned to begin auror training immediately upon getting his NEWT scores. The DMLE had been on a recruiting campaign, signing up rookie aurors left and right in attempts at gaining control after the Ministry had suffered their fall at war.
Ron had considered this route, but ultimately decided that his attention would be better suited to helping George manage the joke shop that had been meant for him and Fred. Ron would step in to assist in getting the shop back up and running and then he planned to get into coaching quidditch. He had dreamed of this career path since playing the sport himself and he believed he could teach and direct better than he could play. At any rate, returning to Hogwarts, after having been given an out with remote testing, was a hard pass.
The girls and I chatted quietly until reaching the castle’s courtyard. I climbed out of the cart and immediately felt the air thicken. I turned around and gave the castle a hard look. The stone facade looked as sturdy as it had before the war. The ministry had appointed as many hands as they could provide, to assist in restoring the structure of the castle. Any and all able bodied wizards or witches employed by the ministry, were seen on campus throughout the summer fixing the stone and interiors, clearing out rubble and generally repairing the buildings on the grounds piece by piece, both magically and with physical labor. It was the least the ministry could do for the school after having failed to protect it in the first place. After having relied on the young students within the castle walls to defend the entirety of the wizarding world and defeating the darkest wizard of all time. They had made much public fuss about the repair efforts and fawned all over the children for their bravery and strength in the face of the war, where their own guilt and futility was glaring. It was left unsaid, but felt by everyone who had sacrificed for the survival and ultimate success of the war. The school was being showered with praise and assistance in the aftermath of the war, when months prior, their warnings had gone ignored by those that held the power.
I looked at Luna, who turned her head towards me. Ginny looked perplexed as she looked at the castle as well.
“Is it me, or does the air smell funny? Mildly, like sulphur. Or rotting garbage?” Ginny asked.
“It’s probably lingering from the reconstruction efforts. Who knows how much is still left to repair.” I offered.
“No. Something is not right. The energy is off.” Luna said slowly.
I felt chills run down my body. My gut was sounding the alarm. It agreed with Luna. But my logical brain pushed this feeling aside.
“Well, the energy is bound to be off with everything that is probably still broken. There are hundreds of years worth of magic that was disrupted with the war. Its entirely likely that we will feel some of that.” I said, trying to convince myself more so than my friends.
Ginny shrugged and led the way inside. The entrance to the castle seemed dimmer than normal, the candle light not quite reaching the entirety of the space the way I remembered. The new lighting must be different. Perhaps the staff or volunteers had not gotten around to casting enhancement charms on the sconces. I shrugged it off and continued down the corridors.
Headmistress McGonagall was standing near the entryway to the dormitory towers, directing students either towards their dorms or the Great Hall. Due to the reconstruction efforts, many dormitory units had changed their usual locations or access points. The headmistress spotted me and raised a hand.
“All eighth year students have been assigned to the newly constructed Union Tower. Please gather around me for further instruction.” Headmistress McGonagall announced.
I found myself at the foot of the stairs from which the headmistress was standing, waiting for her next directions. I could not wait to get to my assigned bedroom. At this point I was not concerned with whom I would share a room with nor where on the campus grounds the dorms would be located. I simply wanted to unpack and get situated. My belly gave a loud growl. Ok, perhaps I would attend dinner for a quick bite and sneak out of the Great Hall during the sorting ceremony of the first years. It was a tradition I had always looked forward to with enthusiasm and house pride. This year, I did not care what house anyone was assigned to, nor did I care to mingle with the others. I was dreading the stares and whispers and questions. I had been avoiding them from the moment I had stepped onto Platform 9¾ and I had not been wrong in my expectations. Every pair of eyes had been on me. Without Harry and Ron, the attention was solely on me, and at full force. I disliked this greatly. Luckily, I had my friends. Ginny was quick to stare down any rude looks or overly curious commentators. And Luna stayed close enough to ensure I didn’t feel overly exposed to the crowds who looked my way. Crowds such as the ones gathering around the staircase presently. Ginny nudged me and I looked up.
“Hey, we are going to the regular dorms to find our room. Meet you for dinner in an hour?” Ginny asked. I nodded. Now that I found myself alone, I had suddenly become more alert. I felt a wave of frustration that the school had decided to lump the eighth years together instead of with their houses. But the age difference having included all newly minted legal adults, it required the eighth year living quarters to be separated from the younger students.
Several eighth year students had formed a group. I glanced around to inspect them. Neville Longbottom approached me, waving. I sighed with relief that one of my friends would be close by.
“Hi Neville. Good to see you.” I greeted, giving him a side hug.
“Hello Hermione. Glad to see a fellow Gryffindor has joined for eighth year.” He responded.
We looked around to find Seamus Finnigan and Parvati Patil approaching our small Gryffindor group. There were other house members littering the area. Padma Patil had joined her sister for eighth year, as had Michael Corner. There were a couple of Hufflepuffs mixed in with the Ravenclaws, Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan, from where I could see. The Slytherins were all huddled behind the larger group. I could see a few in between the crowd. Pansy Parkinson stood with her arms linked to a very somber looking Blaise Zabini. Theodore Nott stood just behind Parkinson. Just next to Theodore, I caught a flash of platinum blonde. My stomach flipped. Draco Malfoy had returned for eighth year as well. My heart sped up.
I had not seen Malfoy since his court hearing in July, two months prior. I had given testimony before the Wizengamot on his behalf. I had just been finished with my volunteer work at the infirmary and was becoming restless, as the sense of impending urgency around me had slowed down for the first time in months. I’d had a few weeks before my trip to Australia to see about my parents. I had been following the trials of the indicted Death Eaters since the end of the war. Some had been caught and tried, some had trials pending, and some had escaped. The youngest of them, Draco Malfoy, was not immediately charged with any crimes. Draco Malfoy had been promptly arrested at the conclusion of the war, the day after Voldemort had died at Hogwarts. He had been in his home awaiting the aurors with resignation and taken into custody without incident, under investigation for his acts during the war.
Headmistress McGonagall had owled Ron, Harry and I, to meet with us regarding Draco Malfoy’s case. The headmistress had seen several memories left behind for her, by both Snape and Dumbledore, which indicated that Draco had acted under duress. Duress was the only known defense to the crimes that Draco had been under investigation for. The list was not short, he was facing life in Azkaban for attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, criminal confinement of illegal prisoners, use of unforgivables, and a few others related to his involvement with the Dark Lord.
McGonagall had been appalled upon viewing the memories of her deceased colleagues. She’d found that Draco had acted under severe duress. Through Dumbledore’s memories, she was able to witness the agreement between the late Headmaster and Severus Snape regarding Draco Malfoy. She witnessed the day that Draco unsuccessfully attempted to kill Dumbledore, tearfully admitting his life had been threatened. McGonagall had witnessed Snape’s memories at the manor. His unbreakable vow with Narcissa Malfoy, who had also been forced into much of her role in the war. Snape had a front row seat to the constant torture Draco had been a victim to. The lashings, the beatings, the multiple inflictions of the cruciatus curses, the verbal and emotional torture he endured while living with the Dark Lord and his cronies. A sobbing Draco, rushing out of the manor dungeons after having tended to the prisoners being held in tiny, dark cells. The strenuous occlumency lessons he had to adopt and learn quickly, in order to avoid death by his Aunt Bellatrix and Voldemort himself.
Unbeknownst to us, McGonagall had removed her head from the pensieve and promptly wretched repeatedly through heavy sobs. Minerva McGonagall was not easily impressed by horror. But the memories had left her in a state that she could not ignore. The next day, the headmistress had formally requested an injunction on any charges until a review hearing was held on the matter. Because Draco had been a minor during his Death Eater days, this injunction was granted as a matter of right, so long as the person requesting it had held a position of authority over the child. Having been Draco’s teacher for years prior to his initiation and after the incident began, McGonagall qualified to make this request.
She had promptly owled the “Golden Trio”, as we were being called, as well as Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas. All but Ron agreed to testify on Draco Malfoy’s behalf.
Dean Thomas had answered in a yes or no fashion, not proving terribly helpful. He apologized to the Wizengamot and explained he had repressed many of his memories due to PTSD. He was visibly shaken and was excused from the court room.
Luna had testified that without Draco Malfoy, they would have died or starved. Narcissa and Draco had taken turns sneaking in salves, charmed bandages, food and water into the cells while the Death Eaters were distracted. They had used magic to heal bones or seal injuries as best they could without making it too obvious that help had been given. They had even had elves control temperatures and ease the hold of shackles while the prisoners were being held. In the courtroom, Luna had turned to Draco, who was staring at the floor blankly, and thanked him for his kindness as she walked out. He’d looked at her in surprise and what seemed like mortification.
Harry gave a brief recitation of Draco’s unwillingness to identify him at Malfoy Manor. He also testified as to Draco’s demeanor and actions during sixth year, including the bathroom confrontation incident, in which Harry had felt remorse for. He felt he should not have acted on Malfoy without knowing the facts for certain.
I had also testified on Draco Malfoy’s behalf, giving more details regarding sixth year’s incidents as well as Draco’s conduct at the manor. The look on Draco’s face watching me get tortured by Bellatrix had been a whole separate haunting, aside from what I’d endured. It was imprinted into my mind forever. It had looked as if he were being tortured as well. I could see the helplessness in his eyes and in that moment, any and all ill will I had harbored towards him had vanished. We were both hostages in that war. I had realized it then.
McGonagall had submitted the memories she had been bequeathed, for review at the hearing. The entire panel of Wizengamot members were equally disgusted and horrified by what they had seen. Draco Malfoy was released with no charges as duress had been apparent and well proven during the hearing with a strong urging by the Minister of Magic “Not to waste your opportunity at freedom. Seek the completion of your education and start anew, with an eye towards the betterment of wizarding kind.” Hence Draco’s presence at Hogwarts currently, I surmised.
My head snapped back at the headmistress as she began her announcements.
“Firstly, I would like to welcome each of you back to Hogwarts and tell you how immensely proud of you I am at your decision to complete your education. Each of you has survived a brutal war and are still healing from the trauma it has caused you. I want to ensure that you all understand that this year, at Hogwarts, there will be extra resources dedicated to assisting each of you with your healing journey. We have mind healers accessible to our students, if you should need a bit of support. We also have an academic counselor on staff this year, Mrs. Duney, who will assist students in ensuring that your academics do not fall behind with the weight of the war’s aftermath. Should you find yourselves struggling with academics or balancing your schedules, please reach out to her, as she is eager to assist. Additionally, I will be making an announcement to the entire school to the same effect, but it bears noting to this group especially.” Her voice became stern as she seemed to stand even straighter than before.
“There will be zero tolerance for bullying or cruel behavior among students. I understand that several of you had opposite involvement in the war, as did your families. I can say this without a shadow of a doubt, that none of you know the full extent of what any other student has gone through. No one here is privy to the details of anyone else’s experience, no matter what you have heard. Everyone is struggling and everyone is healing. I will stand for no disparaging behavior amongst any of you. You are adults now. As such, I expect you all to be role models for the younger students as well as to be mindful that certain behaviors have a legal weight that they did not prior carry.” She said with a raised eyebrow. The group was silent. The headmistress carried on.
“Due to eighth year students being legal adults, you will have a separate dormitory this year. It has been newly constructed after the battle, just for this class. You will be granted privileges that only eighth year students will access and I expect you not to abuse them. Now, due to the small size of the class, there will not be separate house placements.” She said, a ripple of whispers and gasps spreading among the group. McGonagall continued, unfazed.
“There will be one dormitory with one common room to accommodate all of you. There will be a girls wing and a boys wing on opposite sides of the common room. Every student will enjoy the privacy of their own room and bathroom. There will be a floo connected to your main fireplace and you will be allowed to leave campus upon the conclusion of the school day on Friday and are expected to be back on Sunday evening, by 11:30 p.m. Please be advised that these privileges will be the first taken away, should anyone cause any trouble.” She said sternly.
The whispers became excited and several chuckles were heard throughout, McGonogall smirked as she motioned the group to follow her up the stairs. We began our ascent, listening intently.
“Now, in an effort to focus on house unity this year, the students will be mixed into their wings of the dormitory. Not split by house, although you are welcome to exhibit and decorate your spaces with your house colors if you wish. Each bedroom has been pre-decorated with the house colors of the student occupant, as we did in your previous years. The bedrooms are charmed to prohibit entry of another person, unless and until the occupant of the room removes or changes that charm. This is to ensure safety for all. There will be a later curfew of midnight for this class and you are expected to have quiet time by 10 p.m. in the common room during school nights, as opposed to your previous 8:30 p.m. The staff will try not to micromanage your dormitory, but if any of you have any questions or concerns, do let us know.” She concluded, stopping before a double door at the top of the winding staircase.
“Unitas et intellectus” she said, as the doors opened. I could not help but roll my eyes at the password. I entered the space, eyeing the room carefully. The main room was large but inviting somehow. Large orange hued leather sofas were placed in the center with rustic wooden center tables in front of them. Throw pillows in each house color were strewn about the seating areas. There were blankets in large baskets and large oriental rugs in different subdued colors. The fireplace was oversized and upon the mantle were several plants. Over the large space above the mantle were 4 large woven tapestries, representing each house. The windows were few, but large and oval shaped. The curtains were white, the dining areas included neutral rustic wooden benches with dark plum colored cushioning. It was a space that could be doubled as a study table. There had been an obvious effort made to keep the space neutral, clean and comfortable. It was not the sleek and posh Slytherin common room nor the cosy and vibrant Gryffindor common room. It lacked the quirky lightness of the Hufflepuff house but it also differed from the Ravenclaw’s formal academic air they had exhibited in their traditional space. I was not displeased with the room. It was more than I had expected, given what they had to work with.
“Now, you all have forty minutes to get yourselves ready for dinner in the Great Hall. Your assigned bedrooms are all labeled at the doors. Ladies to the left, gentlemen to the right.” McGonagall turned to leave. The group had begun to disperse, some heading towards the bedrooms and some exploring the new common room.
I made a bee line for the bedrooms. I found my room quickly and tapped on the door with my wand. I could feel a pulse of magic as the door unlocked. I entered the space cautiously. It was a larger than I had expected, yet a standard dorm room. There was a cherrywood four post double bed against the back left corner. My Gryffindor bedding already on display, with a house tapestry above the headboard. A matching nightstand with a small black and cream lamp right next to the bed. A closet door besides the nightstand that had a full length mirror attached on the outside. There was a large gothic style window with red and gold drapes, a window seat beneath it with red cushioning and gold throw pillows. On the adjacent wall, there was a bathroom door that led to a small sink and cabinet space, a toilet and a bathtub shower. Next to the bathroom door was a plush brown leather chair and ottoman. I spotted a small writing desk with a reading lamp to my left, in front of the bed. I smiled for the first time since arriving and began rummaging through my trunk, which was already at the foot of my bed. I had everything I needed and the room was larger than any I’d had in the past. After a year of living in a tent in the woods and a summer sharing a bunk bed with Ginny in a tiny room, I was grateful for my own new space. I took a quick shower and changed into leggings and a jumper before throwing on my weekend robes and smoothing out my hair. I was on a mission to get fed and make a quick escape back to this little slice of heaven I now called my room. I grabbed my wand and my bag, which I’d charmed to fit in my pocket, and I slipped out of my room to make my way back to the Great Hall.
There was a crowd of students walking to the dining hall, some excited, some cautious, the energy was a bit hard to read. I approached the Great Hall entrance and suddenly felt suffocated. The air was thick, heavy and stale. The Great Hall appeared dimmer. The floating candles, mere specks of yellow hanging above the tables. The usual starry night sky looked an inky black, the stars barely visible. The walls looked wet, a glistening was visible off of the stone that seemed to contribute to the sickly sweet smell I kept getting a whiff of as I moved towards the Gryffindor table. I wrinkled my nose as I sat next to Ginny.
“What is that?” I asked, nose wrinkled.
“It’s death.” Luna replied nonchalantly.
My eyes widened, but Ginny spoke up, “It’s probably a paint thinner or sealant or some sort of treatment being done to the stone walls, like Mione said.. Remember, everything was either recently under construction or still under construction. There are probably all sorts of charms arranged to make things look as normal as possible.” She reasoned.
It didn’t escape me that Ginny was parroting the same thoughts I myself had expressed at arrival. We turned to the head of the hall to listen to the speeches. More lecturing on house unity, on having grace towards fellow students, no bullying, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. I was quickly tiring of the new mission at Hogwarts, despite my understanding for why the staff was pushing this new image. I waited for the food to appear in hopes that the smell would bring my appetite back. I filled my plate with roasted chicken, potatoes and a few glazed carrots. I ate quietly and avoided conversation, keeping my head down and focusing on my food. I could feel eyes on me from every direction. I suddenly looked up and across the table to the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was peeking up at me. His head was lowered but his eyes were boring into me. I felt a heat keep up my neck and face. He had always seemed to elicit this type of reaction from me. I gave him a tight smile and looked down at my food again, suddenly losing any interest in my carrots. I looked over at Ginny, who was having an animated conversation with Seamus regarding new accommodations in the Gryffindor Common Room, which had undergone reconstruction as well. Apparently it was less cluttered and more modern looking. Some appreciated what they considered an upgrade, others were disappointed at the change. The house was seemingly split on the issue. I chugged my pumpkin juice and got up.
“I am positively exhausted. See you all tomorrow.” Before anyone said anything further, I managed to slip out of the Great Hall and made my way back to Union Tower.