FrostfootDreamleaf22

Three years after Hermione walked out of that arena and faced death a second time, she is still unsettled at night, sometimes. It's unusual that either her or Draco make it a night without waking up, screaming for ghosts that seem to linger in the shadows of the corners of the room. Together is easier than apart. They aren't married, much to the continual disappointment on the Malfoy's part. His mother said it was 'unusual' for two people to be living together (in sin, gasp) and unmarried, but Hermione is in no rush. There are other more pressing things. Underground, with The Order, they've decided that Voldemort has six horcruxes lying aro

And then, just like that, the funerals were over and Hermione was blinking into the light of a balmy summer afternoon...but she didn't feel happy. She had thought after Pansy's funeral, she'd feel alright. She thought that it would be the final assurance that these games were done and she wouldn't have anything to do with them for an entire year but even then she'd never have to endure the games again. She thought seeing Pansy's loved ones around, mourning this girl and reminding her she hadn't always been so, would be bittersweet. She thought seeing Pansy's coffin would bring her a sense of joy even, a joy that maybe this girl had found pea

The exodus from Hogwarts stood out starkly in Hermione's mind as the worst moment of her life. She recalled standing speechless on the ridge in the Forbidden Forest above the school, watching in horror as her entire world burned to the ground around her. She could still see the flashes of spells, as vivid and quick as lightning, of the brave souls of teachers and parents that had defended their children until their very last breath so at least some of them could escape. She remembered the feeling of students pouring out around her, brushing against her as they trampled through the underbrush, fear alighting their veins and looking to anyone f

Hermione had never known what to say at funerals. As a child, when her parents had dragged her to the death of a old neighbor or a businessman from her town, she'd been sad but hadn't ever known how to say the right words. She felt like just saying 'I'm sorry' wasn't enough, wasn't real. But to say anything else would sound callous or rude and so mostly Hermione just sat silent, trying to look like she was truly upset. She hoped her emotions spoke louder to the bereaved mourners than any words could say. When she began Hogwarts and later when the Games started, Hermione found herself at a lot of funerals. She acquired a large collection of b

"So you and Miss Granger are…not dating?" Draco paused with his fork halfway between his mouth, staring down at his mother's form. He didn't know why right now of all moments, at what had been such a nice and casual brunch, she decided to broach this subject. Perhaps it's because his father wasn't in the room. He hadn't been thrilled about Hermione moving to the guest cottage, but he didn't put up a fight. Still, though, Draco had a feeling he'd have a hard time coming to terms with the fact that maybe one day she'd be in the family. He set his eggs down, folding the Daily Prophet he'd been half-heartedly scanning. "No, mother, we ar

Hermione watched Hannah run her fingers across the plates of the metal walls of the training facility halls. She hummed softly to herself, something that almost sounded like a lullaby. Draco was stoic as he walked, his face masking whatever thoughts he had. And Hermione? She, for once in her life, wasn't thinking of much of anything at the moment. Hannah's hand stopped as it reached a familiar elevator. The elevator that would take them up to the apartments or down to the training facilities. She recoiled, snapping her hand back as though the metal had burnt her. She made a low growl in the back of her throat. "If I never have to think abou

"Lord Voldemort," Hermione said softly in shock, quickly dipping her whole body the best she could to bow before him, not wanting particularly to get hexed to death after winning. She wished she didn't have to bow. If Hermione had her way, she would spit at his feet. She would refuse to bend her body in such a way towards him. She would do every terrible thing that these Games made her do to others. She would kill him and make him suffer. But at the moment, Hermione was in no condition to battle a pygmy puff, much less Lord Voldemort. So, despite every bone in her body screaming in protest, trying to pull her into a stanch and rigid positio

"Come on, Hermione. Wake up." Hermione opened her eyes just a little, enough to see she was still in the snowy arena under her blankets. She felt a bile rise in her throat and pulled herself further under the top of the sleeping bag as the coldness of the air seeped in and mixed with the coldness of her emotions while she registered that Colin too was gone. "Hermione." Hannah's voice above her was a graveled sigh of aggravation, "Really?" Hermione pulled herself out a tiny bit from the sleeping bag. "Where's Draco?" She asked with a flat tone. "He's at the stream, cleaning up. He realized he got cut up a bit even in his dragon form this m

The pale dawn of the next day frosted the arena over, causing Hermione to shudder against the chill, and finally decide to put her jacket on. Her and Pike had been walking hours. Somehow, the arena had never truly seemed so big, until now that she was forced to be walking back with her second least-favorite person. But then again, she supposed, a lot of the traveling she'd done had been in shorter spurts, so overall perhaps it was always this long. It had been almost nightfall by the time the portkey dropped them. They'd also stopped to sleep, but neither got very much at all. She'd tried to abandon him early on, but this had proved to be d