I own nothing but the plot.

July 10th, 1999

"Is this really it?" Neville's voice was soft as he stood with the other 7th years gathered in the courtyard.

"It really is…" Padma Patil's voice was soft, gazing up at the castle in the morning sunlight, her arm entwined with her twin sister's.

"It's been a long time coming," Pansy Parkinson yawned, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. "What?! We all had to repeat!" she defended herself when heads swivelled, the other graduates looking at her incredulously.

"Tactful, Pans," Theo shook his head before wrapping his arm around the Slytherin witch's shoulders, pulling her against him.

"Do you think we'll ever come back? Where do we go now?" it was Susan Bones this time, the Hufflepuff piping up as she too looked at the castle, then around at the sprawling grounds.

"Does it matter if we do?" Pansy retorted.

"Oh shut up, Pans," another Slytherin witch, Tracy Davis rolled her eyes at her housemate. Pansy for her part just huffed, leaning against Theo.

"She's right. It doesn't matter," Hermione spoke as she looked around at the gathered seventh years, each of them having faced torment, trauma, war and more to stand where they were today, the four houses intermixed without hesitation.

"Hogwarts will always be here to welcome us home," Draco parroted a line often heard by Albus Dumbledore during their years within the castle walls. Stepping forwards, he threw an arm around Hermione, the other ending up over Neville's shoulders. "But for now, it's time to make our mark and shape our world."

One by one the seventh years stepped closer together, arms coming around one another as they embraced collectively. Silence settled over the courtyard as they stood together, the castle doors open in front of them, the white marble monument to the fallen shining in the bright sunlight.

Students streamed around the group, twenty four graduates standing as one as they remembered who they were, where they had been, what they had lost and what they had gained, the rest of the student body respecting their silence, only the steps of footsteps and trunks hitting against the cobblestones occasionally, school done and dusted for another year – the first year in a long time that anyone could remember there being no fear, no threats, no danger or even distrust.

Ginny Weasley made her way down the corridor of the train as it travelled back to London, a letter clutched in her hand. Knocking on doors as she passed, she poked her head in to deliver the message before moving onto the next. Ginny didn't think she'd ever seen such a mix of students in each compartment, but it was a testament to all they'd been through if nothing else. Reaching the last compartment, she finally found herself surprised, the message dying on her lips as stuck her head in.

Draco Malfoy was currently embroiled in a heated conversation with Tasmin Applebee, the Slytherin captain and Hufflepuff captain going head to head on whether the Tutshill Tornadoes would be able to finish at the top of the ladder in the upcoming season, or if Oliver Wood would finally lead Puddlemere United to victory.

Even more alarming to Ginny was the fact that Hermione Granger was reading what appeared to be a muggle magazine with Pansy Parkinson and Tracy Davis, the three witches engrossed in a conversation about fashion.

"What the fuck?" Ginny couldn't help it.

"What's up, Gin?" Neville glanced up from his game of exploding snap, leaning out of the way as Blaise and Theo lunged forwards to get the next point, the pair wrestling.

"I… um," Ginny blinked a few times, trying to remember what had brought here there in the first place. "Oh, right. Harry owled, party tonight at the Leaky Cauldron, all invited…" she trailed off, stunned as Patrick Bagby, one of the quietest Hufflepuff's she'd ever met, dived under the wrestling Slytherin's and slammed his hand over the smouldering deck of cards victoriously, drawing Neville's attention away from her. Realising that she wasn't going to get much else out of the odd group, Ginny slid the door shut before stepping away, making her way back to her own compartment.

"What the actual fuck."

The sun was starting to set as the train grew closer and closer to London, the nine young adults in the train compartment having set their conversation towards their plans for the future.

"I'm thinking Italy for a while," Blaise mused as he stretched out. "See what's about. Chase the dream, y'know?"

"Maybe I'll join you there! You've given me some ideas to work this muggle fashion into things, Granger," Pansy gave Hermione and appreciative nod, gesturing to one of the many magazines now stacked on the floor.

"Like hell you will," Blaise muttered, cringing.

"Asshole," Pansy huffed.

"I've got an internship at St Mungos," Tasmin commented idly.

"Me too," Patrick responded, casting a sideways look towards the other Hufflepuff, causing her to gasp in excitement.

"What!? You never told me that!" Tasmin bounced in her seat, eyes shining excitedly.

"Get a room, you two," Pansy made a gagging sound, the pair blushing furiously. "What about you, Granger? Got yourself some fancy internship too?"

"I've been accepted into a muggle university in Cambridge," Hermione attempted a small smile, slightly nervous at admitting to anyone that she was going to continue studying in the muggle world.

"Me too," Tracy Davis admitted quietly, every head in the compartment turning towards her, not one of them having expected to hear that from a Slytherin.

"For what?" Blaise cracked first.

"I want to study architecture," she kept her chin up, almost daring them to tease her. "I got into a school in Cambridge, too."

"Figures," Blaise just shrugged, kicking his foot out to knock into Draco. "What about you, Malfoy?"

"Potions Mastery," Draco gave a shrug of his own, and Hermione felt her heart swell as he announced that he had been accepted. "Mother's got some business ventures in Belgium, I'll look after them while I'm there."

"Wait, Belgium?" four voices chorused out, looking between Draco and Hermione. The Head Boy and Girl hadn't been as subtle as they'd thought, and every single person in the compartment assumed that they'd end up in an actual relationship.

Draco glanced to Hermione, trying to read her mood. They hadn't ever actually discussed what was going on between them. He knew they were friends, but he didn't know if she was interested in anything more after just leaving the Weasel, and she didn't know if he would ever actually be interested in a muggle-born for more than mindless sex. Tipping his chin after a few tense moments, Draco cleared his throat.

"Belgium."

"No Malfoy?" Harry asked as he pulled Hermione into a bone crushing hug. Ginny had been keeping him updated regularly on things at school during the year, and he was aware that something had been going on between his best friend and worst enemy – well, worst enemy alive, he supposed. Although from what Ginny had been telling him, maybe he had to reassess that, since the Slytherin wizard had made Hermione smile, laugh and come back into herself for the first time since the final battle.

"Why are you asking me?" Hermione hugged him back, her eyes closing as she savoured the hug, having missed her friend this year.

"Just wondering. Gin mentioned you guys were… friendly, after spending the year in the same dorm is all," Harry defending himself, waiting a moment to place a soft kiss to Hermione's cheek. "It's so good to see you again, Hermione. I missed you."

"You mean you missed me cooking for you?" Hermione smiled softly, unable to stop herself from having a dig at his terrible cooking skills – she'd spent their year on the run cooking, the wizard managing to make them violently ill more than once.

"Hey! I missed you! Kreacher helps with the cooking now…" Harry huffed, grimacing at the reminder that the elderly elf still tried to cook. Thankfully, Molly Weasley had kept him well fed for the last few months as he worked to turn Grimmauld Place into a home.

"That's… I don't even know what to say to that," Hermione scrunched her nose up, slowly pulling away from Harry's embrace to step to the side as more and more of the recent Hogwarts graduates made their way into the Leaky Cauldron, members of the Order mingling with them.

"It's something better left unsaid. And unthought. Definitely uneaten," Harry cringed again before nodding his head towards the bar, Tom the innkeeper currently behind it, grinning at the amount of money the group would rake in tonight with Harry's running tab. "Go get a drink. Open bar. Have fun, Hermione. You deserve it."

Hermione didn't get a chance to respond as Harry disappeared, his scruffy head of hair appearing a moment later besides a redheaded witch, the couple reuniting. Hermione just smiled as she watched them, although part of her heart cracked as she realised that she was definitely single, and her happily ever after didn't exist. Figuring that if she didn't have a happily ever after, she could at least make a happily right now.

"Two firewhiskey's, Tom," Hermione ordered, the innkeeper placing two glasses in front of her, filled with the liqueur. Raising the first to her lips, Hermione slammed it down in one gulp, chasing it with the second as her throat began to burn. Oh yes, this would definitely be her happily right now.

Hermione groaned as a loud, rippling snore tore her from slumber. Cracking her eyes open, she threw her hand over the side of the bed, searching blindly for the watch she usually kept on her bedside table. Frowning when her hand hit something solid but warm, her head turning to the side and taking in the definitely male form emitting each loud snore. Giving up on the watch, Hermione slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed, overwhelmed by the need to use the bathroom. She wasn't surprised to find herself naked, and was even less surprised at the pounding in her head.

She had no idea what time it was, but she was relatively sure based on the creaking floorboards and wrought iron bed that she was still at the Leaky Cauldron. The partier earlier in the night had progressed as well as anything involving Hogwarts students could, firewhiskey and other potent spirits flowing freely until almost everyone involved was completely trashed, Hermione included.

Stretching, she winced slightly as she felt a tinge of soreness between her legs, and it briefly crossed her mind that Draco hadn't been that rough the last few times, so it must have been the alcohol influencing them. Finishing her business in the bathroom, she grimaced at her reflection in the mirror as she washed her hands, her hair a wilder mess than usual, bags clear under her bloodshot eyes.

Emerging a few minutes later, Hermione did her best to keep the contents of her stomach where they belonged, nausea rippling through her thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol she ingested – she lost count of her drinks after nine and the whole night was fuzzy after George Weasley brought out a round of shots developed in his shop.

Padding back to the bed, she tried to recall if she'd heard Draco snore the times she found him sleeping in the common room. It wasn't until she was about to fall back across the mattress that she remembered that Draco hadn't come to the Leaky Cauldron, his portkey to Brussels having left almost immediately after the train pulled into Kings Cross.

The male in her bed stretched out, the pillow shifting to reveal a shock of bright red hair and the freckled face of Ron Weasley, just as naked as she was. Ron jerked a moment later as he managed to wake himself with the sound of his snoring, bolting upright and looking around with sleepy eyes and an even sleepier smile.

"'Sup 'Mione?" Ron didn't drop his smile, eyes raking along her bare form.

"I…" Hermione closed her mouth as she swayed slightly, not really sure what to say as she put two and two together, the soreness between her legs, complete lack of clothing and redhead in the bed spelling out a pretty obvious picture. Trying to come up with the right words, she opened her mouth again, no words forming as instead the results of a big night decided to show, unconsciously leaning forwards as she threw up on the wizard, only one thought going through her head the entire time.

Gasping as she emptied the contents of her stomach into his lap, she didn't take any notice of the horrified look on his face.

"Fuck."

To the Guest who keeps leaving the most ridiculous comments that don't actually match the story - are you trying to troll me? Because you're not doing a great job. Thanks for the addition to the comments list though.