Chapter 14: A New Beginning

Time: First Year After Hogwarts

      "An Auror? Could you be any more goody-goody?" Draco scowled over the top of his latte at her.

        HHHH Hermione returned his scowl with a frown of her own. "You don't think I'm capable, do you?"

        Draco laughed humorously, "You're putting words in my mouth again, Granger."

        Hermione's glare softened, he only resorted to calling her by her surname when he was getting defensive. It was a common trait of his that didn't really work on her anymore.

        "I think you're far more capable of being an Auror than those two. Sure Potter has that despicably uncanny luck, but that doesn't really make him worthy of law-enforcement. His luck will run out eventually." Hermione chose to ignore the hopeful hint in his tone. "And don't even get me started on Weasley. I wouldn't want to rely on him for anything." Draco's voice stayed even throughout his diatribe but one of his pale hands was clenching the porcelain mug rather tightly.

        Hermione looked at her own coffee cup. She didn't generally drink coffee, preferring tea to most other hot beverages, but Draco's odd appreciation for certain muggle things had grown to include the strong, slightly bitter drink. Whenever they had met secretly over the summer, it had always been in a place exactly like the one they were in now. A dark little corner café, muggle down to the dirty linoleum floors and dull fluorescent lights that were mostly burnt out leaving little light, but serving some of the tastiest coffee around. Or at least, Draco said that it was Hermione didn't drink enough of it to feel justified to make a judgment.

        "You would make a good Auror."

        Hermione looked back up in surprise.

        Draco caught her with his intense gray eyes, "I just think that you ought to consider something else. There are so many things that you could do. There are so many things that won't put you in such danger. To be perfectly honest I'm surprised that you made it out of Hogwarts alive, all of you. The number of times that the three of you, especially Potter, managed to avoid dying is simply astronomical. Haven't you done enough?"

        He was right; of course, Draco generally was for some reason. They'd had many near misses with death. There was rarely a morning since school had ended where Hermione hadn't woken up and wished for a normal wizarding life. A life where she got a nice secure job and her friends got nice secure jobs. But that wasn't her life, not yet anyway, not when she was going to start classes at Aylesbury Auroring Academy in less than a week.

        Hermione leaned forward and caught his arm. Draco tensed knowing immediately what she was doing. Her delicate fingers caught the sleeve of expensive black robe and she pushed it up his arm, revealing a light mark that a passerby would have mistaken for nothing more than a fading bruise. But Hermione and Draco both knew better. The mark would darken abruptly when Voldemort called him leaving a black skull and snake marring the otherwise pristine lightness of his skin.

        Hermione studied the stain on his skin for a moment with soft brown eyes before speaking, "No, Draco, we haven't done enough yet."

        She let a moment lapse for her words to sink in before she released his arm. He sat back in his rickety chair, folded down his sleeve, and glared at her again. "I hate it when you do that."

        "I know, and I'm sorry, but it really is the quickest way to make my point." Hermione smiled slightly trying to soothe his ruffled feathers.

        "What do your parents think about it?" Draco asked trying to ignore her smile of apology.

        "Oh you know my parents," Hermione waved her hand dismissively at his question, "their pleased about it, of course."

        Draco sighed and rubbed his forehead, "they have no idea what an Auror is do they?"

        Hermione's sigh echoed Draco's as she daintily stirred a second packet of sugar into her coffee, "Not in the slightest."

~*~*~*~

        She wasn't sure what to wear. It was ridiculous really. Hermione was a perfectly capable eighteen-year-old woman. She had never given much thought to fashion before. She had always viewed Lavender and Parvati's pandering in front of the mirror at Hogwarts with a superior eye. But here it was, Sunday night, and she had spent three hours going through every trunk, every dresser, and every wardrobe that in her room. Nothing seemed appropriate.

        Hermione could always wear her old Hogwarts robes; they still fit. But that almost seemed like a step backward. This was a fresh start a new beginning, it called for new clothes.

        "You should have gone shopping, dear." Her mother said gently from the doorway.

        Hermione smiled ruefully, tucked a brown curl back behind her ear, and kicked a pile a clothes on the floor. "You are probably right, Mum. But I've been busy getting everything ready."

        Her stepped into the room and pulled the door close behind her. "You would tell us, if you were going to do something dangerous, wouldn't you?"

        Hermione's smile faded and she looked away guiltily; she never could lie to her parents very well.

        Her mother sighed, sat on the edge of the bed, and patted the only empty spot on the bed signifying that Hermione should join her. "I was afraid of that."

        Hermione sat stiffly next to her mother feeling guiltier by the minute.

        "I had hoped that you would become a teacher. Maybe marry one of your friends from school in a year or two. You know that I'm quite fond of Harry and Ron. That Draco was very sweet too, although I think he might be a bit too much to handle at times."

        Hermione sniggered. "Mum, I can assure you that I am in no way interested in Harry, Ron, or Draco."

        "Well then who are you interested in?" Her mother asked immediately.

        Hermione's eyes went wide; her mother was too good at this, Hermione had thought they were discussing her dangerous life path, not her love life, or lack there of. "Mum, there really isn't anyone that I'm interested in." She assured her mother.

        "Oh, well that's good to hear." Her mother stood up suddenly and kissed her on the cheek.

        "It is?" Her lack of suitors had never been something her mother was fond of.

        "Well if you're available then there isn't any reason why you can't see a few of my friends' sons." Her mother beamed and then was out of the room almost as if she had never been there to begin with.

        Hermione blinked wide eyes at her mother's passing. "How does she do that?" She groaned aloud as she flopped back on her bed.

        Hermione played with absentmindedly with the sleeve of her blue dress robe. It had ended up in the pile of clothes as well. She always felt pretty when she wore.

        Sitting up with a sigh, Hermione let go of the robe and pulled a pillow encased in yellow lace onto her lap. Resting her cheek against it, she studied the distant view of London that she had from her window. Their house was on a small knoll in one of the many suburbs surrounding the city. At night she could make out the little pinpricks of light that announced London's presence.

        Hermione closed her eyes. She hadn't lied to her mother. Not really. She wasn't interested in anyone. She just happened to think about someone in particular an awful lot. She wondered where Sirius was. Hermione hoped that he was safe, that he was well. She worried if he had enough food or if he was warm at night. They were little, unimportant thoughts, and Hermione didn't share them with anyone.  They were for her alone. Much like the memory of that kiss. Hermione hadn't dared to tell anyone of it. She had never talked about it with Sirius afterward. But then, Hermione had never returned to the hospital wing after that first night, that night when he had called her disgusting.

        As soon as Sirius was well enough to leave, he had. And Hermione didn't see him go. Harry asked her to come along with him and Ron, but she had refused. She'd had some excuse.

        They hadn't seen him since. Hermione didn't ask Harry if they heard from him. She supposed that they did, but he didn't tell her of his own accord. Sometimes, Harry would look at her and she would almost swear that he knew something. But what he might know, even Hermione wasn't certain.

        It was all very frustrating and Hermione had spent months trying to get Harry's godfather out of her head. But it was so hard to forget about him when she didn't know if he was safe, if he was cared for.

~*~*~*~



        Hermione stepped off the train and frowned at the graffiti that littered the walls of the Underground station she had emerged into. A quick scouring charm would clean that right off in no time. But it was hardly worth the effort considering that any clear patch would simply be scrawled back over in a matter of hours. Not to mention the number of laws she would be breaking to do something like that. It wasn't that Hermione had become more of a rule breaker over the past two months since Hogwarts, but there was an uncomfortable urge in the pit of her stomach that willed her to do something wild, it was an urge that Hermione was beginning to believe belonged to someone else. She was going to have to have a very firm talk with Harry and Ron. It simply wouldn't do for one of them to get a warning the from the Ministry of Magic right before they started at the academy.

        "Hermione! Oi! Over here!" A shout echoed over the heads of the surrounding crowd.

        Hermione stood on tiptoes trying to see where Ron's voice had come from but to no avail, it was painfully crowded. But before she could get to frustrated she felt a sudden distinct pull to her left inside her stomach and she turned following the urge. Harry and Ron were twenty feet away, standing half way up a stairwell, looking completely unconcerned as they blocked a good deal of traffic that was trying to walk down the stairs. Hermione made her way to them, ignoring the annoyed looks people sent her as she knocked past them fighting the flow of people.

        "Hermione, why are you dressed like that? Aren't you going to wear a robe?" Ron asked when she reached them.

        Hermione fingered the sleeve of her plain white blouse. The brown tweed skirt went to her knees and her basic brown flats drew little attention. "I'm going to change once we get to the Leaky Cauldron, you know I don't like riding the Underground in my robes, people always look at me funny."

        "Well thank goodness for that, you look like my muggle neighbor, she's been teaching school for about a hundred years now." Ron told her over his shoulder as they started up the steps.

        Both Harry and Ron were dressed in black robes that looked like they would have blended in well with every robe that they ever wore to Hogwarts. There wasn't a dress code at Aylesbury but the standard black school robes from Hogwarts were hard to get over, they had become so ingrained in their heads.

        As they climbed the stairs Hermione studied the back of Ron's head for a moment, "You know Ron, before you start teasing me about my clothes you really aught to brush your hair."

        A wayward tuft of red hair was sticking nearly straight up and Hermione was having a hard time keeping her hands at her side, they itched to flatten it.

        "If anyone needs to brush their hair it's Harry." Ron replied easily.

        "Harry's hair is always messy Ron, you know that." Hermione told him.

        Harry stopped at the top of the stairs as they walked past him still discussing his messy appearance, "I am standing right here you know."

        Hermione paused and grasped his arm, pulling him along behind her. "Don't be ridiculous Harry. You'll make us late if you lag behind."

        "Well we wouldn't be running behind at all if you would have just apparated to the Leaky Cauldron." Ron grumbled as he crossed the street oblivious to the passing autos.

        "You know that my Mum and Dad don't like me to apparate in the house!" Hermione snapped as she tried to follow Ron across the street.

        There was a blaring of horns and Hermione had only a moment to register that the car that was about to hit her was gray before Harry's strong hands jerked her back onto the curb.

        Ron had been grinning as he watched her cross; he liked to harass her whenever possible but his smile faded now. "Hey, are you all right?" He called worriedly across the street.

        Hermione glared at him angrily, adrenalin still pumping through her veins. "You know Weasley," she snapped, "No one asked you to wait for me."

        Ron jogged back across the street, again narrowly missing cars that didn't even seem to register in his mind. He looked her over thoroughly making sure that she was unharmed.

        "Of course we would wait for you, Hermione." Harry told her. "You wouldn't have to ask."

        Hermione immediately felt childish. She knew that Ron was only teasing her. One would think that after almost seven and half years she would be use to it. But Hermione had many sensitive spots, having to make Harry and Ron ever wait for her for anything made her feel ashamed. But she shouldn't lash out at them like that.

        Taking a deep breath she pushed past them, "Come on then, we'll make it if we hurry."

        She didn't wait for them to answer as she set off across the street, making sure to look both ways this time, but she didn't miss Ron's underhand comments to Harry.

        "She called me 'Weasley', didn't she? Spending too much time with that Slytherin prat again isn't she?"

~*~*~*~

        The school was a long, two story, brick building. It was non-descript and dripping with anti-muggle wards that were so strong even wizards felt a bit of trepidation when approaching for the first time. It was in a heavily wooded area, if Hermione hadn't known better she would have thought that it was deserted the first time that she saw it. The grounds were wild and over run. Ivy covered at least half the building and some of the windows appeared to be broken.

        "They really don't want people to come here, do they?" Ron asked between bites of his turkey sandwich.

        "I suppose not," Harry agreed cheerfully.

        They had a good reason to be cheerful; so far their first day had gone almost unnaturally well. The professors and Aurors that would be teaching them were all pleasant and smart. There weren't any Snapes or Lockharts to be found. Hermione knew that Harry had never once been so comfortable with all his teachers at once.

Back in Hogwarts Hermione excelled in school to the point where all of her teachers had appreciated her work, except for that hack Trelawney. Hermione even felt that she had earned a small measure of respect from Professor Snape in her final year even with his fury over her source's identity. Ron had always managed to get through his classes with little interaction with teachers one way or the other. But poor Harry had always seemed to have troubles with his professors, either they seemed to believe he was something more than he was such as Flitwick, or that he was something less such as Snape had.

Harry knitted his hands behind his head and plopped backwards against the green, uneven grass of the front lawn at Ayelsbury. "Think we'll do all right?"

"What?" Hermione asked while pouring another cup of tea from the thermos she had brought with her. "Do you mean here at school?"

"School, everything I suppose." Harry withdrew one hand from under his head and pulled off his glasses. He closed his glass-green eyes against the glinting sun.

"We'll do fine," Ron said cheerfully after drinking the entire cup of tea in one swallow, he had undone the first several buttons of his black robe when they first come outside for lunch, A good portion of bare chest was visible to the sun.

"You ought to use a charm so that you don't burn." Hermione mothered.

"Huh?" Harry opened one eye to look in Hermione's direction.

"Not you," Hermione replied, "Ron, you're as white as..."

"What? Malfoy with a tan?" Ron grinned.

"Yes, just about, and I would hate for your skin to lose its lily white complexion and start to match your hair."

Harry couldn't stop his chuckle. Ron made a face and went to punch him lightly but Harry only rolled quickly out of the way.

"Now that isn't fair, to hit a man while he's down." Harry laughed as he sat up. He sobered suddenly as if struck by a thought, "So you've seen him recently?" Harry asked, scooting closer to his friends.

Hermione nodded, "Is it that obvious?" she asked.

"Well," Ron took a moment to find the words the right words with which to explain without leading to bodily harm, "you're tongue becomes a bit more barbed after you've spent some time with him."

Hermione frowned but wasn't particularly bothered. "We had coffee a few days ago." Ron made a noise in the back of his throat. "I was going to tell you later today, I would have told you before but I got very caught up with getting ready for school to start. He didn't have anything particularly interesting to say anyway. Just more 'Hermione, why don't you do something safe?' if someone else tells me to drop out of this I swear I'll start screaming."

        Ron sat forward and grabbed her hands, his face very serious, "Hermione, I've been giving this some thought and I think... Oww! I was only joking!"

        Harry didn't reply as he started to put his Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts book back that he had just used to smack his friend with back into his bag.

        "We had better get back inside." Hermione said stiffly as she got to her feet.

        "I was only joking." Ron said again. "Hermione," Ron grabbed her arm.

        "If you want me to quit Ron, tell me right now."

        It had started with Lavender and Parvarti before they had even left Hogwarts. Both girls were taking up apprenticeships with a pair of sister divinators in France. They had been horrified by her choice. Both girls had given Hermione the distinct impression that they figured she would be dead by Christmas.

        Ginny hadn't been any better. The Weasley girl hadn't come straight out said so, but she apparently believed that Hermione simply couldn't stand the thought of not being with Harry or Ron. Ginny thought that Hermione was going to follow them anywhere. The two girls had spoken some very unladylike words to each other. They had just begun to owl each other again last Monday.

        Didn't anyone see that Hermione was good at this? Didn't they see how she could solve almost any problem if they gave her a few hours and a book? She had useful skills to offer as an Auror, Hermione knew that she did. Why couldn't anyone else see it?

        Ron hadn't answered, Hermione frowned, "Ron, if you think..."

        "Hermione," He cut her off, "if you quit, then I quit too. I'm not doing this without you."

        Harry laughed, "You ought to stop being so insecure Hermione. I don't think this will work without you."

        Hermione smiled, embarrassed, "I do get a bit worked up, don't I?"

        Harry picked her bag up off the ground along with his own and shouldered it. Ron dropped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her along with them.

        "It's all right, you just need to spend more time with Malfoy, he always leaves you in a bit of cynical mood."

        "Thanks."

~*~*~*~

        "There will no need for your wands in this class." Their newest instructor, Professor Bankotsu, told them with a slight accent toning his flawless English.

        He was a tall man with long, straight black hair that was pulled back and braided. His dark, almond shaped eyes met with each of theirs for a moment, sizing them up. He was quite handsome.

Hermione, Ron, and Harry had him for the first time on their third day at Aylesbury. He was teaching yet another defense class. It was at least their third one. There had been a standard Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts that they'd had on Monday that class had been followed almost immediately by a Defense of Dark Creatures class, this subject had apparently become to broad to be covered by the standard class. There was also a defense class aimed at dealing with Potions but that wasn't until Friday.

        "We don't need our wands?" Hermione whispered to Harry.

        "What type of defense class is it?" Ron muttered to her.

        There were all sitting informally on a heavily padded floor. There were ten or so other students, no one that they had known from Hogwarts.

        "I don't know," Hermione replied, "the schedule doesn't say."

        "Now to begin, I would like everyone to please stand up and place your bags against the wall so that they will be out of our way."

        The students followed his instructions. While they began to drift back to their original places Professor Bankotsu began to remove his robe. Several students made sounds of disapproval at the thought of their professor undressing but as it turns out he was dressed underneath in a pair of loose fitting pants and matching white shirt with long sleeves. A black belt was tied expertly around his waste.

        "Are those pajamas?" Ron asked quickly in a hushed voice.

        Hermione shook her head, "no, you see clothes like that in a lot of Asian self-defense classes, like Karate or Tae Kwon Do."

        "Self Defense?" Harry queried louder than he had meant drawing the Professor's attention.

        "Yes, Mr. Potter, Self-defense." Professor Bankotsu stood before them now, his hands clasped easily before him.

        "Pardon me for interrupting," Another student, a girl with mousy black hair and a superior look that Hermione didn't like, cut in, "But why do we need a self defense class? You do mean physically, don't you? Isn't that's what a wand is for?"

        "What happens when you drop your wand, Ms. Furmage?" He asked easily as if expecting this question.

        The class immediately diverged into a very heated discussion. Hermione had no idea that some wizards were so opposed to learning Muggle techniques of defending themselves.

        Harry muttered, "You would think that aurors in training would want to learn as many ways to defend themselves as possible."

        "Hermione needs to learn how defend herself." Ron agreed, "For when Malfoy finally turns fully to the dark side and stops being such the charming gentleman." It was a continuous complaint of Ron's, he couldn't ever allow himself to entrust Malfoy with so much of Hermione's non-judgmental time.

        And with that Hermione suddenly found herself clenched between two very strong arms and hoisted off of the ground. She struggled vainly against Ron who was chuckling heartily into her ear.

        "Ron!" She snapped, trying to keep her voice low, "you put me down now!"

        "I'm not Ron, I'm Malfoy, remember?" Ron teased as he held her a bit higher up.

        "Ron, you're causing a scene," Harry tried to intercede gently but Hermione had just lost her temper.

        With a disgruntled growl Hermione brought her heel as hard as possible into his calf. With a stifled cry of pain he released her enough so that her feet could find purchase on the ground. Once they had she brought her foot down on his toes. His arms slipped from around her and Hermione shoved her elbow back into his chest. With a loud "Oomph" Ron fell to ground.

        "You, Ronald Weasley, are such a five year old! And I'll have you know that he's a thousand times the gentleman that you are!" Hermione huffed angrily, one finger pointing accusingly at the prone boy.

        "Ms. Granger?" Professor Bankotsu asked from behind her.

        All color faded from Hermione's face as she turned to look at her professor. "Oh... I... So sorry." She was able to stutter out before she turned abruptly on her heel and fled the class.

        "Now that girl," their Professor said in a pleased tone as he studied Ron on the floor, "she has had some self-defense training before."

~*~*~*~

        Hermione wrestled with her bedcovers for quite some time later that night.

        Ron was insufferable at times. He was childish, boorish, and possessed the maturity level of a toddler. He was one of her closest friends and she loved him more than she loved almost everything else but oh how she wanted to squeeze his lily-white neck until the freckles on his face matched his hair.

        Hermione didn't consider herself as being prone towards violence but Ron just seemed to bring it out in her sometimes. He had gotten better about most things. He had gotten over his brotherly possessiveness when it came to other boys expressing an interest in her, not that there were many. Ron no longer held her smarts against her. But he just couldn't ever lay off of Draco.

        No matter that Draco risked his life every time he saw her. No matter that he had provided valuable information time and time again. No matter that he had saved their lives just a few months ago. Ron couldn't forgive him for being what he was, a Death Eater, A Slytherin, but worst of all a Malfoy.

        Hermione rubbed her eyes sleepily. Draco couldn't help who he was. He needed her help and her understanding. And Ron would just have to accept that eventually. Hermione gave herself openly, and unquestioningly.

        She woke up with a start, the bleary-eyed sleepiness leaving her immediately as she fumbled for her wand. She wasn't alone; there was someone in her room.

        "Hermione?" A dry voice gasped.

        Hermione stopped looking for her wand and slid off her bed, coming around to the other end, to the cloaked figure in her room. "Draco?" She whispered in surprise, he hadn't been in her house since the summer before.

        He was shaking, the black cloak fluttering around him making it look like he was laughing silently. Hermione felt panicked as she grasped the cloak and pulled it away from him. He was unnaturally pale and his skin was wet and clammy.

        "Draco?" She said again more desperately. "What's wrong?" She asked even though before the words were out of her mouth she already knew that someone had used the Cruciatus curse on him.

        "B...bloody h..hell, Granger," He stuttered. He took a minute to try and regain some control over his body before he continued. "You need to make your bedroom unplottable. Any old p...pervert could pop in."

        "This isn't the time for joking!" Hermione snapped feeling tears burn at her eyes. She pulled him unceremoniously over to her bed and forced him to lie down. "Stay here, I'll find something for you."

        Draco's body was shaking so hard that the floorboards beneath were creaking. But Draco still managed to pull off a weakly roguish smile, "I've never refused a woman who's a...asked me to..." Draco broke off groaning as his tremors became suddenly more pronounced.

        Hermione slipped out of the room and headed down the stairs. Madam Pomfrey had given Sirius a potion when he had suffered large doses of the Cruciatus spell only a few months before but Hermione had never tried to brew it and it would take hours to do it now. She kept her potions in the bureau in the parlor. Hermione poured over the little stoppered bottles but nothing would help. She had nothing on hand that could help soothe his nerves.

        The ceiling above her groaned slightly and Hermione squeezed her hands together fretfully. She had to do something for him. Turning, her eyes fell upon her father's liquor cabinet. Hermione crossed the room at a dash and tore through it.

        "Well," she muttered aloud, "Dad always said that nothing could calm the mind like a good shot of whiskey." Hermione shuddered at the memory of the last time she had seen Draco intoxicated but there worse things at the moment. Hermione headed back up the stairs to her room.

        Draco was thrashing about when she pulled the door closed behind her. He seemed to be going in and out of consciousness much like Sirius had after Wormtail had attempted to break him.

        "How many times did they do it to you?" Hermione whimpered as she crawled onto the bed next to him, kneeling by his head.

        She pulled him up so that he was leaning against her bent knees, his sweaty blonde hair spread loosely across her lap.

        "Hermione?" He muttered as she twisted off the cap.

        "Here, I want you to drink this." She told him firmly tilting the bottle into his mouth before he could argue.

        He spluttered but didn't push her away. He swallowed once, twice, then once more before Hermione took the bottle away.

        "Granger," he groaned, "Where the hell do you get off drinking stuff like that? That's strong enough to melt a cauldron."

        Hermione smiled when he didn't stutter his words. "It's my father's, it was the best I could do."

        Draco squeezed his eyes shut as another set of tremors wracked his body but they weren't as strong as before. Hermione delicately ran her fingers across his forehead hoping to calm him even more.

        He shuddered again then rolled onto his side, pulling his legs up much like a child would and curled around her, his head pillowed even more pronouncedly in her lap.

        Hermione shied away from the close contact but tremors shook him again and he clutched at her. Giving in to the need to comfort him her hands found their way to his head again where she rubbed softly.

        "It gets worse," He spoke into the yellow cotton of her nightgown, "every time they do it, it gets worse."

        "Why did they torture you?" Hermione asked, "did they find out that you've been spying?"

        Draco laughed then harshly and pulled on her all the more tightly, "No, they know nothing, they just like to hurt each other. Today it was me, tomorrow it could be anyone." He began shaking again and Hermione slipped her arms around him and pulled him closer.

        "It's all right," She told him gently, rocking slightly, "you're safe here."

        "The only place that I am, you know."

        Hermione supposed that was true. It wasn't a happy thought.

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