Friends, Enemies, and All the Broken People

Prologue

A/N:

Hi folks! Thanks so much for giving this a chance.

This was inspired by a tumblr post that suggested if Hogwarts had instituted an exchange program, maybe the house rivalries wouldn't have been so severe and the Slytherins wouldn't have felt so isolated. What started as a fun idea quickly evolved into a post-war hurt/comfort storyline.

This is a MATURE fic for language, sexual content, and well as mature themes. I can't police you if you are under 18, but please make an informed choice.

Please note that this fic will discuss a past domestic violence relationship. I will put content warning when descriptions of violence are more severe in each chapter, but please keep your own mental health in mind when you read this. Hermione is a strong woman though who has gotten out of her abusive situation and takes her power back.

If you are a survivor of abuse, please know that I see you, I love you, and you are amazing and deserving of good things.

This would not have been possible without the amazing support of december_noon who did all the things. Betawork. Alphawork. Talking me down when I wanted to throw the whole thing in a river. She's a goddess and a talented writer so go read her stuff if you aren't already.

Additional Beta love to kindajew, rosenymphadoraweasley5, and crookshankscrew. You magnificent beings were so helpful and supportive...and caught all my typos <3

peace and love, sam

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He heard her first. The tone she used when she was in class giving a correct answer. She sounded so normal. Her voice was reminiscent of times when all they had to worry about was assignments, the House Cup, and Quidditch. How she managed to infuse that sense of calm when walking around the rubble was a mystery to Draco. As she rounded the corner with the new group of volunteers, their eyes connected.

"I think that's enough orientation for one morning. You all can head back to the Great Hall and I'll assign you tasks after lunch," she directed to the group. She waited until the corridor had cleared out before addressing him. "Malfoy."

"Granger."

She looked tired. Who didn't these days? It'd been two months since the war ended and no one was really done grieving. Some people hadn't even started. Draco had been given probation by the grace of Potter and the witch standing in front of him. She had spoken to the Wizengamot on the behalf of many children of Death Eaters.

Hermione Granger, defender of the helpless.

"You wish to punish children for a war you were incapable of fighting yourselves. Either it was incompetence, negligence, or avoidance, but you left us to do your dirty work. Now, you'd like to bury your failure under prison sentences and a twisted form of justice," she ranted at the Wizengamot looking every bit the Gryffindor war heroine she was.

Draco couldn't stop staring at her, at the way she fought for them. If there had ever been doubt, it was gone now. She was not only the Brightest Witch of Her Age but the most formidable as well.

She had been adamant that children who had fought to save themselves shouldn't be punished simply because the adults in charge of their safety had failed them.

All the children of Death Eaters who had been bystanders and pawns had been sentenced to probation. Part of the terms of the sentencing was that they assist in rebuilding Hogwarts—fixing the damage they helped cause. No one complained. Manual labor was far better than a stint in Azkaban. Draco was finding it cathartic to fix broken things like he was doing tangible good in the world.

"I meant to check in with you earlier, but it's just been non-stop," Granger replied, standing an arm's distance from him now.

"I didn't expect you to seek me out. I would imagine I'm the last person you want to see," Draco looked away from her and went back to repairing the hole in the wall. She'd done enough for him. Because of her, he wasn't rotting in a cell and that was more than he deserved from the Golden Girl. Her kindness seemingly knew no bounds as she tried to welcome and talk to everyone involved in the project. Draco briefly wondered who she talked to when she went home.

"I don't blame you, you know. I meant what I said at the trials. We were all put in impossible situations by people who were supposed to know better–do better. You included," her voice had an edge as she spoke. This seemed like an argument she was used to having, and one she was still impassioned about. Her stance defending those who had fought on the wrong side of the war had caused quite the stir in the press...defending herself must come second nature. 

A moment of silence prevailed as he continued his work and he expected her to walk away relieved that she could talk to other more respectable volunteers. She placed a hand on his shoulder to turn him back to face her, "I'd just like to move forward. I've had enough fighting... and anger."

The words shouldn't have mattered to him. Her touch definitely shouldn't have sent a beam of warmth through his arm. He knew where he stood with the rest of the Wizarding World, with her friends. But hearing someone—hearing her—say they wanted to just move on... it felt like parts of him were being patched up, too. Like he could be whole again and not another war-ravaged mess that no one would bother to clean up. It felt like the salvation he knew he hadn't earned.

"Whatever you want, Granger. I owe you that much," he finally replied. As he looked into her deep brown eyes, they shared an understanding. At least with them, the destruction could be swept away. They were both tired of the past, of the atrocities they'd seen, coming back to haunt them.

"We don't have to be friends who skip through the halls, Malfoy," she said with a small chuckle, "but maybe we could try to be...friendly acquaintances. People who don't ignore each other or throw hateful comments around." Her wink shocked him. Was Granger joking around? With him?

"Sounds like a real example of post-war house unity to me," Draco replied with his signature smirk. She backed away from him and held his eye. Her scrutiny made him uncomfortable but he was glad she didn't turn her back on him. It felt like a conscious gesture, a peace offering.  

They didn't see each other much over the next month. Glimpses across the Great Hall at meals. Run-ins in the hallways. A few cordial greetings. It was more than he expected, but he felt like she was a lifeline and he wanted to keep holding on. With all the volunteers and parolees, the work was accomplished fairly quickly. Their last day was bittersweet for Draco. He could finally rest before facing his classmates in September, but he wouldn't have these moments with her anymore.

Maybe this year at school he'd have a chance. Maybe he could earn her friendship.

After the Hogwarts project, Draco refused to go back to the Manor. The Ministry was still doing regular sweeps for dark artifacts and the rooms were haunted by too many ghosts. He set up shop in one of his family's properties in Hampshire. It was closer to the Channel and the water assured him he was as far away from landlocked Wiltshire as he could get. He reveled in the solitude and quiet for a while, but knew he'd need to get back into the world or end up a recluse by the time he turned twenty.

Draco's entrance back into society had not been well received. People either looked at him with disdain or right through him entirely. The people who had to interact with him maintained an impressive level of detached politeness. Eventually, Draco decided venturing out was something to be done out of extreme need and nothing else. He'd retreated into himself and was content to return to his life of quiet solitude only interrupted by his fellow Children of Death Eaters who refused to leave him alone.

He wished for the days of clearing rubble and fleeting glances from a curly-haired witch. For chocolate eyes that had never looked at him with disdain or pity, only understanding.