A/N: Hello! This was dancing around in my head, so I figured I'd write it out. It's set in an AU that deviates from canon in a few important ways, as you will discover below. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think of it and whether you'd like me to continue the story, because as it stands, it's just a oneshot despite being a prologue - I haven't written anything else for it yet. Without further ado, on we go.

*HP*HP*HP*HP*HP*HP*HP*HP*HP*HP*

After it was all over, Hermione and Harry came back to Hogwarts.

They'd done so to complete their seventh year despite everything that'd happened, much to the surprise of the general public and also in spite of the fact that they'd both been offered jobs by the DMLE and exemption from taking their NEWTs.

When people asked why they'd turned it all down, Harry and Hermione would smile, and joke, and say that Hermione was dead-set on earning her qualifications the proper way, and that Harry hadn't wanted to leave her side. But while that did hold some truth, there was nonetheless a much bigger reason for the couple's polite declining of the Ministry's offers.

Harry and Hermione were, quite simply, tired of fighting Death Eaters, of living life in constant anticipation of the worst. They were tired of losing friends to Dark wizards, and oh, how many they'd lost. Sirius, Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, Dobby, Remus, Tonks, Fred ...

Ron.

They'd lost him before the three of them had ever really had the chance to reconcile over his abandonment of Hermione and Harry and the subsequent development of romantic feelings between the pair. When Ron had come back, there had been a lot of fighting - and a lot of yelling - and although he'd agreed to stay with them in the end, things had never gone back to the way they were before.

And then Fred died right in front of them all, and Hermione couldn't convince Ron to stay with them, to not follow Percy after Rookwood and Dolohov and the other bastards who had killed his brother.

They never found out who'd murdered him. No one left standing had seen it happen. Ginny had been the one to find him, the youngest of her older brothers: propped up against a wall, his chest ripped to shreds, his arms limp, his head lolling forward, and his blue eyes overwhelmingly vacant.

It was an image that none of them were going to get over any time soon.

She'd left, Ginny. Tried out for the Holyhead Harpies, made the team, and didn't look back. Only her mother had tried to stop her but for once, Arthur Weasley put his foot down, and a grateful Ginny had kissed her father on the cheek, packed a trunk, and left without another word. If Neville had seemed a little heartbroken by the lack of a goodbye, it soon became apparent that he wouldn't have time to dwell on it, what with how busy Professor Sprout was keeping him with repairing the greenhouses.

Harry and Hermione had been needed to help with the rebuilding process, too; the amount of damage that had been done to Hogwarts was staggering. It turned out to be grueling, intensive work to put the castle back together, but it kept their minds and bodies busy, and that was not unwelcome. Both Hermione and Harry found that it was therapeutic to fix what was, in almost all essentials, their childhood home, especially after so much had been irreparably broken.

So, from a couple of days after the battle until mid-August, they had an established routine: wake up at seven, eat breakfast, be out the door by eight, apparate to Hogsmeade, walk down to Hogwarts, see Headmistress McGonagall (who insisted that they both call her Minerva when they were in private) about what the plan for the day was, go work on the part of the castle they'd been assigned to, meet up in the Great Hall for a late lunch, go back to finish the day's work, let one of the professors know when they were leaving at the end of the day, walk back up to Hogsmeade, apparate back to Grimmauld, eat supper (usually takeout) and go to bed by eleven when possible.

There was the odd day in between when they'd been needed by Kingsley - now Minister Shacklebolt - at the M. O. M., too, for PR negotiations among other things. The first time such an instance occurred, the press took it upon themselves to ambush Harry and Hermione in the atrium and it had taken ten minutes and the help of a contingent of six Aurors to make it through to the elevators. After that, the couple had taken to disguising their features with magic, signing in with pre-approved code names, and waiting for a pair of escorts from the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, just in case.

After a fair bit of deliberation with the Minister and some of his advisers, Hermione and Harry agreed to an exclusive sit-down interview about their time on the run on two conditions: first, that it would be published in the Quibbler (for which Luna had taken up the role of editor in the wake of her father's death), and second, that under no circumstances would Rita Skeeter be allowed anywhere near the whole affair. Kingsley had accepted those terms in a heartbeat. The interview was scheduled for April and the plan was for it to be released on the first anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. They also agreed to attend the Commemorative Ball on that same date and to say a few words there.

Beyond that, Harry and Hermione were immovable. As Harry had loudly told one of the Ministerial advisers who was getting particularly pushy, the two of them had sacrificed more than enough for Wizarding Britain, had gone beyond their "civic duty" as the man had put it; they were not about to give up what little peace and privacy they had left to be the faces of whatever propaganda campaign was in the works. The Ministry could work to earn the people's respect on its own, Hermione had cut in to add, and seeing as they had such a wonderful and capable man as Minister, they were clearly on the right track and didn't need any help.

"You have reparations to make," Hermione had said, "and a community to rebuild. I want to see how you handle those challenges before I throw my support behind anything, if I decide to do so at all; I don't know about you, Harry." He'd nodded in solidarity, and he, Hermione, and Kingsley'd had to hide their mirth as the pompous man had blanched and spluttered in indignation in front of mortified colleagues.

And so, they juggled Hogwarts and the Ministry during the greater part of the summer and then had a brief reprieve in the last few days of August to rest, to visit friends, and to be together away from prying eyes. They laughed and kissed and cried and woke up from nightmares in each other's arms; they ate the food that Kreacher made for them (his attitude towards Hermione having done a near-complete 180), they began renovations to turn 12 Grimmauld Place into less of a grim, old place, and they sat in the sitting room, prepping for classes. Finally (and all too soon), on September 1st, they boarded the Hogwarts Express and set off for what both of them hoped would be a peaceful year at last.

Not many of their class had returned, understandably. Harry, Hermione, and Neville were it for eighth-year Gryffindor. Of the missing boys, Ron's absence was a given, Dean Thomas - last Harry and Hermione had heard from him - was living with his Muggle relatives in London and was thinking of submitting a portfolio to UAL, a Muggle arts university, and according to him, Seamus Finnegan was living in Ireland with his mam and was working in a wizarding pub in their village. Of the girls, Fay Dunbar and her friend (whose name Hermione never could remember) had not shown up for whatever reasons - although Hermione remembered seeing Fay being treated by Madam Pomfrey at the end of the final battle - Lavender Brown had been killed by Fenrir Greyback, and Parvati Patil had decided to stay away from Hogwarts because of the bad memories, according to her twin, Padma.

Of Hufflepuff, Ernie MacMillan and Susan Bones were the only two to return. Justin Finch-Fletchley had reportedly been murdered by Snatchers while on the run, and Hannah Abbott was working as a bartender at the Leaky Cauldron and studying for her NEWTs from her room there. Of Ravenclaw, Michael Corner, Terry Boot, and Padma Patil had decided to come back, all three set on seeing their education through to the end. Of Slytherin, Daphne Greengrass returned in order to be close to her little sister, Astoria, and Tracey Davis, Daphne's girlfriend, had accompanied her in a show of solidarity. None of the eighth-year male Slytherin students had returned, and no one inquired after them.

The Welcoming Feast had made the impact of the previous year starkly obvious, as once all the returning students had trickled into the Great Hall, it became clear that the population of each House had been reduced markedly, particularly in Slytherin, whose table's students were especially sparse. Nevertheless, when Harry and Hermione had entered the room, they were greeted by booming applause and a standing ovation from all four House tables, as well as the High Table. Minerva - erm, Headmistress McGonagall - had escorted the two of them up to the podium to look out over the Hall. The two of them had stood there, hand-in-hand, a little stunned and incredibly touched, and then had gone and brought all the other eighth years forward to be acknowledged, Hermione dragging Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis up too, despite their hesitancy. Harry had then held up a hand and the Hall had quickly gone silent. He squeezed Hermione's hand gently, let go, stepped forward and started clapping, motioning once to all of the students in the Hall. The eighth years and professors quickly caught on and joined in, watching as the students reacted, some smiling and blushing, and others taking in the applause stoically, eyes gleaming.

Then, with permission, the eighth years had left the front of the Great Hall to take their seats. Hermione offered for Daphne and Tracey to join her, Harry, and Neville at the Gryffindor table, and after the couple exchanged a surprised glance, Daphne spoke up for the pair of them, saying that tonight they would have to decline in order to welcome the first years of their house, but that they would take her up on the offer soon, and then asking if, perhaps, the Gryffindors might be interested in helping them organize some inter-House study groups. Hermione had smiled conspiratorially, and a new set of friendships took root.

The rest of the night had gone smoothly. The Sorting, although shorter than usual, saw the first years receive warm welcomes from all four houses - even, thanks to the lead (i.e. the enthusiastic applause) of the upper year Gryffindors, those students sorted into Slytherin. The Headmistress gave her speech after the feast, welcoming everyone back, citing recovery as the focus of the year, offering counselling services to any students who felt that they would like to speak to someone about what had occurred the previous year, and encouraging Inter-House unity.

"Your House affiliation does not define you," rang Minerva's voice through the Hall. "I have known ambitious Hufflepuffs, brave Ravenclaws, brilliant Gryffindors, and kind Slytherins. I have also seen students of each House exhibit some of the more negative traits associated with other Houses." She paused. "Your House does not define you. And your mistakes don't have to, either. I am quite sure that every single person who was here last year did something that they are not proud of, because they were upset, scared, exhausted, stressed, or angry ... or because they were trying to survive. Let us try to remember that this year.

"And also," she added, "remember this: if you did harm to someone last year ... it is not too late to make amends. Thank you." The Headmistress had then dismissed the students and ordered the prefects to their posts.

And so, the school year began.