| ||Rating: Mature||Story Reviews: 2813|
Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Lucius, Narcissa, Blaise (M), Draco, Ginny
Genre(s): Drama, Humor, Romance
Pairings: Draco/Hermione, Harry/Ginny, Lucius/Narcissa, Ron/Lavender
First Published: 2009.01.18
Last Published Chapter: 2011.12.16
Last Updated: 2011.12.16
Favorite Story Of: 1450 users
| ||Advisory: Strong Language, Strong Violence, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme, Contains Spoilers|
Hermione is back for her seventh year at Hogwarts. Over one year has passed since the war and she finds herself changed by the experience. She needs something, someone. But everyone around her act like nothing ever happened, except for one. Draco Malfoy. With him as her teacher in flying, can she find a way to heal?
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|Ch. #||Chapter Title||Word Count||Reviews||Read|
Hermione feels that she is the only one who has changed after the war, she needs change around her as well.
Hermiones first flying lesson, meeting the teacher, and flying.
The two who does not ignore, come together.
Who cares about Herbology, when you can spend the day with Malfoy?
How hard is it to just be friends?
Draco did some thinking... What did he think of then?
The past has a way of sneaking up on us all, especially as nightmares.
He stared right at me, his eyes filled with hate. I would never get used to see him looking at me like that, it was not right.
Recieving letters can sometimes be a bad thing.
Hermione learns what is going on with her her fellow Gryffindors
If you have Lucius, Draco and Hermione... and then throw in Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall and then finish it with some fire whiskey - You have chapter 11.
Draco tells Hermione that Matthew is all talk, that she shouldn't worry... Should she?
Draco is fighting to survive, while the people closest to him come together and... Get over their differences?
Hermione sets out to find Matthew, what does he have to say, and what the heck has he been telling everyone else?
Veritaserum and a Pensieve... And someone will be beaten up. Lovely mix. Don't you think?
Who is the person who came back and what does the person have to tell Hermione about Draco and Pansy's past? Also, they get a new place to stay!
The holidays are coming up...
Draco tells Hermione about the letter, and they're going home.
Hermione and Draco sits down and talk to Mr and Mrs Granger, and... who is that person at the door?
Someone comes and shake things up, and Hermione finds a Christmas gift for Draco.
Christmas has finally arrived, and with it comes gifts, findings and it might lead to... a fight.
“Welcome back to the Malfoy Manor.” I corrected him in a whisper, low enough for him not to hear, but loud enough to send a shiver down my spine.
“I'm thinking about how I'm going to say this...”
I watched in horror as Draco writhed in pain and screamed through clenched teeth, it echoed inside the room and I felt as if I was about to throw up. I couldn't look away, as much as I wanted to. I stood there, with my eyes locked on the visibly hurting Draco.
“I don't really kno-” I couldn't finish the sentence, because I heard someone call my name and the voice was very familiar and I froze at the sound of it.
|26||New Years pt. 1
“Talk Draco,” I begged, “What's bothering you?”
|27||New Years pt. 2
I couldn't help but to let out a 'Oops' as she made a move to hit me again, while yelling at me that I was a filthy Mudblood.
It looked a bit funny, seeing that Draco was taller than Blaise, when Blaise tried to make himself taller and stand up towards Draco, being in his face as he spoke in a deadly tone, and I think I heard something which sounded a lot like, “If you ever hurt her again...”
With that, he left. Probably glad to get out of our compartment, which had an awkward tension in the air. I waited for the door to close behind him, but it never did.
I sighed and ran my fingers through his hair and he froze, “I love you as in I'm in love with you.” He loved me. He told me that he loved me. I could have screamed at the top of my lungs out of happiness.
“Well,” he said and smiled sweetly at me, “If you mess something up really bad then I wouldn't be surprised if you were to find yourself running a few laps around the pitch,” as he finished his sentence, his smile grew wider. I gaped at him. The pitch was huge – I would die of exhaustion.
“Have a little faith, Hermione,” he whispered against my ear and I couldn't hold back the tear which escaped from the corner of my eye.
That confusion turned in to surprise which I tried to hide. He put a small, red, velvet box on the table and pushed it towards me. I stared at it for a long time before I slowly reached for it. I looked up at his eyes to see if he could give me a clue on what I was about to find in the box, but of course – his face didn’t give away anything. “Open it.”
He turned his back on me, but I wouldn’t have that. My hand came out to grab a hold of his arm and he turned to face me again. His blonde hair was dripping wet and it hung in front of his eyes, which were glaring at me.
In some ways it felt as if I was under water, like there was a pressure on my ears – as if my head was about to explode. And in some ways it felt as if someone had placed a big rock on my chest, which made it hard for me to breathe...
"My coward of a son..." Lucius began bitterly.
I froze. Now, that was like being slapped across the face.
“Oh, Hermione...” Blaise moved closer to me, and put his hands on each side of my face – making me look at him. “You know it's not like that. It's not your fault, it has nothing to do with you.”
There was no way that I was going to let that happen, that much I knew. I also knew that I needed to know more about this whole thing. Before I understood what I was doing, I had asked her if she could come by our common room later the same evening.
A wounded generation, that's what he called us. Blaise, that is. I liked to call us a surviving generation – it just sounded better. But I guess we were all a bit wounded.
I threw myself on him and managed to knock us both down on the floor while yelling “poison!”
With our brooms in our hands, we walked out on the pitch.
It's over, I thought to myself as I packed. It's really over.
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