Author's Note: Decided to keep it going. This chapter could probably stand on its own if I wanted it to, but it's definitely in the same plot line. Currently planning one or two more chapters, but if it strikes my fancy, I'll write more. Please R&R!

The Astronomy Tower held too many memories for her. The air was suffocating, despite the cold fresh wind blowing in from the surrounding mountains. She hugged her cloak around her shoulders, shuddering lightly as she stepped into the glow of the full moon. Snippets of memories kept coming back to her – violent flashes of light, cruel laughter, triumphant cheers, the smell of death.

The only sound around her was the ticking of the clock in the tower and her own light footsteps echoing against the stone walls. She clutched her wand tight in her hand, the security of her magic warm in her fingers. Her breath was visible in the winter air – the first snow had fallen that morning, right on schedule for November. An owl flew by, melancholy hooting filling the air. She started, raising her wand in a defensive stance. A flutter of wings, and another set of footsteps.

"Lumos!" she breathed, the tip of her wand flaring and filling the corners of the room with light. A pale pointed face and straight blonde hair appeared over the edge of the staircase. "For Godric's sake, Draco!"

"Just me, Granger, stand down," he joked as he climbed the rest of the stairs, holding his hands up to show he was unarmed. Hermione knew his wand was just up his sleeve, the same place she carried hers. He was dressed in his heavy cloak, the collar of the heavy wool garment pulled up around his ears. He carried a small bag with him. "Saw you sneaking out and wanted to make sure you weren't going to get yourself into too much trouble."

"What's it to you? It's not like I'll lose points or anything. The professors don't even look at me when I'm out after curfew." She placed her hands on her hips, her wand remaining clenched in her right hand.

"Let me rephrase – getting into too much trouble without me. Nothing happens in this bloody school anymore, and I'm bored."

"I should think that's a good thing," Hermione scoffed. She nodded to the satchel over his shoulder. "What's in the bag?"

"Food. Some firewhiskey." He patted it and the sound of clinking bottles rang out. "You looked like you could use a drink after that Arithmancy exam today."

She settled herself on the cold wooden floor, her back against one of the thick wooden pillars that supported another balcony above them. Drawing her knees into herself, she wrapped her cloak to envelope the rest of her frame. "Let's have it then," she said, patting the floor next to her.

Draco settled himself against the same pillar so that just their shoulders were touching. Pulling the bag open, he set the firewhiskey between them, along with a small empty jar.

"What's that for?" she asked.

"Rumor has it you've been able to create the best bluebell flames since first year. I figured you needed something to keep you warm apart from that horrific cloak."

"I happen to love this cloak, thank you very much." It had belonged to Ron at one point, but Hermione had stolen it so long ago that she now considered it hers.

"Oh yes, a hand-me-down of a hand-me-down is prefect for serving its purpose of warmth," he scoffed. She rolled her eyes, but cast the charm anyway. He took a swig of firewhiskey and offered her the bottle.

She took a tentative sip – the hardest thing she had ever had was the wine her parents let her drink with dinner. It burned her tongue, leaving a stinging trail down her throat. She coughed.

"It's best if you don't let it sit in your mouth too long," Draco explained. He demonstrated by taking a quick drink, throwing his head back to let the liquid slide easily down his throat. He smacked his lips together and handed the bottle back. The second shot went easier, but her eyes still watered. "How do you think you did on the exam?"

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Question 14b gave me a bit of trouble, but I think I did alright. Professor Vector isn't going easy on us this term."

"She didn't last year either. I vaguely remember what she tried to teach us, but there was so much going on it's a wonder she got around to much teaching at all."

There was a heavy silence. More screams echoed in Hermione's ears. Fred's pale face sprang into her mind, followed quickly by others – Tonks, Lupin, even Lavender. She snuggled further into her cloak, dipping her chin, mouth and nose beneath the fabric. She pressed her eyes shut until she could see stars.

"You think too much, Granger. I can hear the wheels spinning in there."

She sighed, leaning further into his shoulder. "I can't help it. I see them everywhere – in my sleep, in class, while eating. I can't get their voices out of my head, pleading with me to help them, to heal them. There's nothing I can do to stop it and I don't know how I'm going to be able to go on like this much longer."

Her head slipped to rest on his arm, and he gently lifted it up and around her shoulders, pulling her body closer to his. "I don't want to say I can relate, but –"

"You probably had it worse than I did, living in that house and coming back to school. I only had a few days of it – you had a year."

"As shitty as it sounds, you got used to it after a while. Or you learned to drown it out. I had convinced myself that it was a figment of my imagination for most of the time, especially at the Manor." Draco shuddered and Hermione buried her face in his cloak. She vaguely noticed that he had called it 'the Manor' and not 'home.' "He was never around that much, but between my aunt and the rest of the lot, it was just as bad. I convinced my mother to lock me in my room whenever I was there." His voice sounded hollow, detached. She wondered if he even realized he was talking about it.

Hermione felt tears escape her eyes, wetting the wool of Draco's cloak. "Please," she whimpered, "talk about something else."

"Like what?" His hand came up to move her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"Your favorite shop. Or a potions recipe. Or Quidditch."

"You hate Quidditch."

"I hate other things more."

"Mmm." Another swig of firewhiskey. She shook her head against him when he offered her the bottle again. "Potions, you say?"

"Yeah," she answered quietly. She stretched her legs out in front of her, laying her hands on her lap. She picked at a cuticle.

"You remember that day with the Felix Felicis in sixth year?"

She nodded, smiling fondly. "I remember the look on your face when Harry won."

"I remember the look on yours," he countered, and she could feel him grinning. "You're hair could've filled the whole of Gringotts that day. And you had this look of utter bewilderment when Slughorn announced Potter as the winner."

"And you looked like you had swallowed something foul," she teased. "Although, there wasn't much difference between that day and any other. It's a wonder your face didn't get stuck like that." She felt him chuckle lightly.

Another silence, much lighter than the previous one. Another drink.

"Draco?" she asked quietly, her voice shaking as if she wasn't sure about speaking at all.

"Yeah?"

"What's going on here?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Do we have to put a label on it?"

"Have you met me? I'm Hermione Granger, the girl who labels and categorizes everything – if it can't be defined, it doesn't exist."

Another drink, deeper this time, as if he could lose himself in the bottle instead of facing reality. "And if we don't define it?"

She shrugged with one shoulder, and she was suddenly aware that his hand had been resting lightly on the outside of her cloak, his thumb tracing patterns over the fabric. "We will eventually. We'll have to. When people start asking."

"They haven't yet. It's like they're afraid of us."

"We're still in school, Draco. There's a whole world waiting for us out there. They're not going to avoid us when we're cooped up in the reference room at the Ministry, or eating together in the cafeteria."

"How do you know we'll both work at the Ministry?"

"I know you have aspirations of joining MLE."

"They won't offer me a position, Granger. I'm me. There's no way the Ministry is going to employ someone with my background."

Hermione raised her head from his chest, looking him straight in the eye and poking him hard in the shoulder with her index finger. "Don't you dare, Draco Malfoy. If you give up now then they've won. They've defeated you. If you believe there's nothing worth fighting for, then the war killed you more completely than any spell ever could."

He peered at her curiously, his gaze drifting over her face. She gulped when his hand lifted to her cheek, the chill of his cold fingers making her blush. "For someone who has lost all hope of a normal life, you've still got some heat left." His eyes dropped to her lips, and hers to his. He pulled her swiftly to him, the softness of his thin lips molding to hers. He smelled like firewhiskey and something else, something rich and woody. They broke apart a second later, breathing heavy. She noticed his eyes were glazed, and she figured hers probably matched.

"I'm so tired, Draco."

"I know."

"Part of me just wants to stay hidden in this tower until the world is right and whole and good again."

"You'll be up here for a long time."

She rested her forehead against his, leaning into his fingers that stroked her cheek.

Author's Note: Thoughts? Feelings? Thanks for all the kind words so far, it's defintely keeping me motivated! I'm writing these chapters based on one word prompts, so feel free to give me words to base future chapters on. (This first chapter was fall, and this one was midnight.) I look forward to hearing what you think!