I'm creating this story line under the pretenses that Draco's grades suffered during his seventh year (which took place while the trio were hunting horcruxes) because of all the stress at home, dealing with Voldemort, his family, and his impending doom. He's returned to finish a proper year. I'm sure there are a couple other instances in which I twisted timelines to allow my plot to exist, so please excuse those changes, or PM me so I can adjust accordingly.

I wanted to portray Hermione as the strong female character that she is instead of chasing around after boys all year, as I don't think that is her nature. She will have her fair share of romance so don't be deterred.

Obviously, I do not own the rights to Harry Potter, they are entirely in the capable hands of the lovely JK Rowling.

Chapter 1

The summer after the war was peaceful. Hermione spent a lot of time at the Burrow with the Weasley's. Although the atmosphere was somber because of Fred's death, it was a comfort to be surrounded by those who she loved best. There were moments of happiness that shone through these melancholy times but there was also a void left in many of their hearts. Voldemort was gone for good and their lives were moving forward whether they were ready or not. Ron had shut himself off to her the moment they returned to the Burrow. The loss of Fred had changed him. She tried to speak to him, to get him to open up to her, but nothing she said could make him look her in the eyes. She reflected on this change with Harry but he could provide no solace to her anguish. Ron was her best friend and this space between them was unbearable.

One evening, Hermione couldn't sleep. She'd been awakened by another of many dreams that haunted her every time she closed her eyes. Lying in Percy's old room alone, she wished that Ron would open up to her again. She missed him. Even though they were sleeping under the same roof, it felt as if they were miles apart. Gazing out the window, she made a resolute decision: to return to Hogwarts in September and finish her seventh year. There was nothing she could do for Ron here and the time apart would either rekindle the romance that burned so passionately or fizzle out into nothing. Hermione hoped for the former. She laid her head down and was finally able to sleep.

When she awoke, she resolved to tell her news to the family at breakfast. She knew it was early but dressed quickly anyways and rushed downstairs. Sitting at the Weasley's worn oak table, eating a bowl of porridge robotically, was Ron.

"Where's your mum, Ron?", she inquired weakly.

"Out.", he replied without looking up from his bowl.

"Do you think you could look at me? Would it be so awful to just look at me, Ron?" She had been getting frustrated by the cold shoulder she was receiving every time they were in each other's presence.

He looked into her eyes with a scowl on his face. She could see the anger burning within him, feel the heat radiating from his being. It was worse than being ignored

"Happy?", he spat.

"Hardly." she replied. "What have I done to deserve this, Ronald Weasley? I know it's been hard, but it has been for all of us. What can I do to make you happy?"

"Well, for starters, you could stop bothering me while I'm eating."

"Honestly, Ron! This has gone on long enough! Tell me what's wrong!"

"FINE. YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT'S WRONG? MY BROTHER IS DEAD. AND HE'S NEVER COMING BACK. AND WHAT WAS I DOING WHEN THAT HAPPENED? SNOGGING YOU." He slammed his spoon down on the table, breaking the bowl of half eaten porridge, and stormed out of the front door. Her lip trembled. She followed him.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts." She said softly to his back. He was standing facing the overgrown garden, watching a couple of gnomes scurrying about. He didn't turn around.

"When did you decide that?" he asked sullenly.

"Last night, when I couldn't sleep. With everything that has happened, I just think I need to return to my normal life. And that's at Hogwarts. Will you come with me?" She hoped that he could hear the longing in her voice.

"Go back? Not bloody likely." He remained staring at the garden. She approached him, slowly extending her hand to touch his shoulder. He winced and pulled away at the barest brush of her fingers. Looking at him like this, it was hard to envision their lips locking, their arms wrapped around each other in an embrace or holding onto each other for support. It was like none of it had ever happened.

She went back inside and wrote a letter to Professor McGonagall requesting to return the following year. Harry and Ginny approached her as she was rereading it.

"I heard you were returning to Hogwarts", Harry said.

"That's right. I've a letter for Professor McGonagall right here. Would you mind asking your mum if I can borrow Errol, Ginny?" Ginny obliged and left to find Mrs. Weasley. She looked at Harry.

"You talked to Ron, I take it"

"Er… yes, I did."

"And what did he say?"

"It wasn't very nice. I'd rather not repeat it." He looked down at his worn trainers. It was strange to think that not very long ago Ron had accused the two of them of having a relationship. Everyone had expected it of them. She was the only one that had been confident of their strictly platonic friendship.

"You're not going to change my mind. I have to go."

"I know", he replied, "Hogwarts is your home. Like it was mine. But now I have Ginny and Ron and the Weasleys and I can't leave them. You were always brilliant, Hermione. I knew you'd go back." She smiled at him. His support meant the world to her. She couldn't help but hug him.

"I'm going to write you, promise to write back. Keep me updated on Ron. I know he's angry but I hope, after some time, he changes his mind. I know it's been hard on him. He's always been the most susceptible to pain. Look after him, ok?"

"You know I will."

On September first, the sun rose on a perfect autumn morning. Mrs. Weasley had agreed to accompany Hermione on her trip to King's Cross.

"Got everything, dear?" she asked lovingly.

"Oh yes, I just hope I remembered everything. It seems like such a long time ago that I prepared for school."

"Well, if you've left anything behind, don't hesitate to send an owl, dear." She magicked the school trunks to follow them out the door.

The ministry provided a car and driver to escort them to the train station. It was the least they could do after all they had put them through in the previous years. Loaded in the car, waiting to pull away from the Burrow, Hermione looked longingly at Ron's window. He was watching their progression. She gave a little wave. He instantly closed the curtains. And then they left.

They made good time getting to London. She wanted to arrive early to get a compartment to herself. In all of her previous years, the Hogwarts Express was an enjoyable ride through the country, made so by her companions. She had spent two years as a prefect, a position that she had stepped down from. A little less responsibility was in order for her this year.

Stowing her luggage in the last train car, she returned to hug Mrs. Weasley. Tears were streaming down her face.

"I can't believe how far we've come, dear." Hermione patted her on the back.

"I know Mrs. Weasley. Neither can I."

"Don't forget to write! And know that you are always welcome in our home, even if my son is acting like a complete git." She smiled warmly. Now Hermione had tears in her eyes. One final hug and she turned and boarded the train.

It was strange sitting alone in the compartment. There was something so final about it. Never again would she be sitting here on her way to the start of a new year. Without Ron and Harry by her side, she felt as if she were missing an appendage. She'd never imagined a Hogwarts without the three of them together. She stared out the window, lost in thought, until the lunch trolley stopped outside her compartment.

"Anything from the trolley, dear?" She purchased chocolate frogs, cauldron cakes, and pumpkin pasties, Ron and Harry's favorites. Opening the first frog, she bit the head off and glanced at the card, curious as always to read about a famous witch or wizard.

"Dumbledore. Of course. How appropriate," she said to herself.

"Talking to yourself, Granger?" The compartment door slid open. In stepped Draco Malfoy, the last person she expected to see.

"What do you want, Malfoy?"

"No need for the hostility, Granger. Where's Scarhead and the Weasel?"

"They're not attending, as if that's any concern to you."

"Your boyfriend left you, then?"

"For your information, I've left him." He had touched a nerve at the mention of Ron.

"His loss," he said, looking her up and down with a sly, smirking grin. Then he turned and left the compartment. She was at a loss for words. What was that supposed to mean? And what the bloody hell was that look he gave her? She returned to her thoughts as she changed into her school robes. They were approaching the castle rapidly.

The start of term feast was as splendid as ever, though much emptier than the previous years. The tables were laden with everything delicious to eat and the magic ceiling was a glorious shade of indigo, stars twinkling like fine jewels. She had chosen a seat to herself once again. She had always been with Ron and Harry. It was nice to be alone if she couldn't be with them. It allowed her to observe and appreciate all of these 'lasts' that she would be experiencing throughout the year. Across the Great Hall, seated at the Slytherin table and alone as well, was Malfoy. And he was staring directly at her. Her stomach dropped. What was he playing at? First his strange actions on the train and now this? She looked away. The feast had cleared itself to be replaced by a wide assortment of desserts. Harry's favorite treacle tart appeared in front of her. She had never understand his fancy for it. She served herself some pudding and slowly ate it. She turned around again. This time she didn't look away.

Hermione left the Great Hall, not looking forward to another night of restless sleep that she knew was coming. As she headed for the marble staircase, she was accosted yet again by Malfoy.

"What are you doing?," she asked scathingly.

"Waiting on you, obviously, Granger." He grinned. He was much taller than she remembered or maybe she had never paid attention.

"And why would you be doing that?"

"Looks like we're both loners this year. Thought we could strike a friendship. If you fancy that, of course."

"Is this some sort of joke? I'm a Mudblood, remember? And you are vile and cruel and thoughtless." She turned and stormed up the stairs, gave the Fat Lady the password ('Crumple-Horned Snorkack'), passed through the common room, up the spiral staircase and went straight to bed. She drew the curtains around her four poster and stared at the ceiling. What was happening? Draco Malfoy wanted to be friends. Friends. With her. She decided to ignore it.

He haunted her dreams. She awoke with a start the next morning. She dressed herself in school robes, took a bit of extra time with her hair, and headed down to breakfast in the GreatHall. Checking her schedule, she found that she had double Potions with the Slytherins first thing. She groaned inwardly. Malfoy caught her eye, waving his own schedule, at her and winked.

Upon entering the classroom, Hermione set up her cauldron at the very front desk and began reading her Potions book. The rest of the class trickled in, Malfoy amongst them. Parvati Patil, another Gryffindor seventh year, walked over to sit by her. She felt a sense of relief until Malfoy approached.

"Sorry, Patil, this seat's taken. Get lost." He crammed his cauldron down along with his bag and stared smugly at Hermione. She rolled her eyes and continued reading.

Professor Slughorn entered the classroom shortly after, greeted them all,and gave instructions for the Invigoration Draught they were to brew by the end of class. Hermione listened attentively, nervous to miss a step or forget an ingredient.

"Pssst, Granger." She ignored him

"Hey. Hey. Granger." She continued to ignore him.

"Hermione." She turned. It was more of an instinct. He had never called her by her first name before.

"What is it, Malfoy? I'm trying to concentrate." He handed her a spare bit of parchment, folded in half. She stuffed it in her bag and continued working.

Quickly the classroom filled with the sound of bubbling cauldrons. The heat from the fires caused her face to perspire and hair to frizz. She took her time cutting up her lemon grass and Fairy Wings. Precision was vital for this potion and she intended to be the best in the class. She glanced over at Malfoy. She had half expected him to be watching her, but to her surprise, he was equally immersed in preparation, stoking the fire under his cauldron occasionally. The hour passed uneventfully.

"In ten minutes time, your potion should have simmered in its final stage and have taken on its vibrant orange hue. You will collect a vial to be turned in as you leave class." Hermione glanced down. She had just added Asphodel, the final ingredient. Her potion was slowly warming from the pale yellow color it had taken on to a color that was remarkably similar to steamed carrots. She knew that it was perfect. Slughorn made his way around the classroom, examining the contents of the cauldrons.

"An excellent concoction, Granger. Well done. Took a page out of Potter's book, no doubt. That boy had quite a knack for potions. Pity he didn't return this year." He strolled over to Malfoy. Hermione was annoyed at his comments. She, unlike Slughorn, knew perfectly well that Harry's potion skills were at best average. He had been using Professor Snape's old textbook which held many secrets to brewing each potion perfectly, although veering from the instructions provided. Harry's talents had been misleading. It had always left a bitter taste in her mouth when he received the praise that was meant for her.

"Very good Mr. Malfoy!," Slughorn praised from the cauldron next to hers, "Miss Granger may have some competition!"

Hermione glowered at her rival. He glanced her way and shrugged. She had to admit, his Invigoration Draught looked remarkably accurate. She doled some of her potion into a vial and placed it upon Slughorn's desk, packed up her belongings, and headed toward the Great Hall for lunch, before she spent the afternoon in her favorite subject, Arithmancy, with Professor Vector. As she dug into her Shepard's Pie, she couldn't help but wonder what Ron was doing at that moment. She pictured him in the field beside the Burrow, perhaps playing Quidditch with Harry, Ginny, and George. She had always enjoyed watching them play. When they were on their brooms, they looked so carefree. She was an awful flier. It was the one thing the boys had always surpassed her at. Harry's skills were impressive from the moment he had sat on a broom. Ron had struggled, always looking rather clumsy and unsure of himself. It was an endearing quality that she held close to her heart. Perhaps she would write to Harry later and inquire about him.

Hermione's classes went well the rest of the day. She was given a moderate amount of difficult homework from Professor Vector and Professor Binns, the History of Magic ghost, had assigned an essay on the Hogwarts founders that she was thrilled to start. She headed straight to the library after dinner.

The library was empty, aside from Madam Pince, the sunken-cheeked and rather unhelpful librarian. Hermione sat alone at a table surrounded by books, including Hogwarts: A History. She reached into her bags to retrieve a quill and parchment to scratch notes onto. Instead, her hands grazed the parchment that Malfoy had passed to her in Potions. She unfolded it, unsure of what to expect.

Meet me in Greenhouse 1, tonight at midnight. Don't be scared, I won't bite.

-Draco

She crumpled the paper into a ball in her hand. Fat chance, she thought. She wasn't sneaking around at all hours of the night. She began absentmindedly flipping through the pages of the nearest book. She chewed on the tip of her quill. She stared at the words on the pages without actually comprehending what they said. He was getting to her. Frustrated, she slammed the book shut, receiving a hostile look from Madam Pince, threw her things haphazardly into her bag, and stormed back to the dormitory.