"Well, it's just... I came to apologize. I want to apologize for all the years I harassed you. I know that most of the things I did and said are not excusable but nevertheless I hope that maybe someday we can leave that behind us and start from the beginning. I would understand if you would hex me to the moon, but I just thought that you ought to know that I am truly sorry."

The young blonde's head hung low as he stared at the floor beneath his feet. After a few seconds of silence he stood and wanted to leave the room. As he was about to twist the doorknob, she called him back.

"Draco, wait."

He was surprised but turned to face her nevertheless.

Meanwhile, she already stood and walked up to him coming to a halt a meter in front of him.

"It's okay, I understand your reasoning. I forgave you, maybe not that long ago, but I forgave you. 

War changes people. It makes the weak grow stronger and some strong people get weaker and some might even break. Good people turn into bad ones and the bad guys can turn into the best of people. 

Anything can happen. 

Nevertheless, war changes people no matter how insignificant some differences may seem, but they do exist. I know that you didn't really want to do the things you did when you were older because you had already begun to change. I forgive you, but I can't forget. As long as you don't revert to your old self there's nothing that would be against a friendship of sorts."

Hermione's voice was low and soft, while he looked at her seemingly gobsmacked.

"We could start from the very beginning if you'd like", she added when he didn't answer.

The young man was speechless and glad that his head nodded on instinct. She stuck out her hand for him to take and shake.

He took her hand and said: "Hello, my name is Draco Lucius Malfoy. I am 18 years old, and I currently am in seventh grade at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry. It's nice to meet you."

"Good evening, Draco. I am Hermione Jean Granger. I am in year seven, too. Currently, I am still 21 years old."

"Still 21?", he asked, not really catching her drift. 

"That's a longer story. I would love to tell you now, but I have to organize my bookshelves, or otherwise I can't go to bed this evening as my books are occupying my bed." 

Her hand motioned towards her bed as she smiled at him.
He nodded slowly before answering a bit hesitantly.

"Maybe I could lend you a hand if you'd like?"

"That would be nice and most welcome."

Together they started to put her books in the bookshelves organizing them alphabetically. They worked in comfortable silence save the few times they either asked the other to conjure another shelf or whether a certain book had a special place anywhere. After a little more than an hour, they were finished. 

Draco bid his goodbye and left the young woman to ponder.

Who was that? Was that Draco Malfoy, the guy who always harassed me? He was so nice and polite. But what have I just told him? War changes people. Yes, that it does indeed, and I do guess that there's more change in that young man than I just witnessed. There must be more that's plaguing his troubled mind. I'll ask him tomorrow. Now it's definitely time for bed.

Still deep in thought, she stood up, changed into some shorts and a tank top and brushed her teeth. After that she fell into bed and was asleep only seconds after due to physical and emotional exhaustion.

+++++++

A few hours later she woke with a jolt. It was still the middle of the night. Utterly confused and scared she stared into the darkness of her room trying to orientate again. It took her a while to figure out that she was in her new room. Her heart was still beating a hole into her ribcage, and her breathing was rapid as the dream or better the nightmare she just woke up from was still haunting her.

Broken grey stones litter the path she's walking. The whole castle is merely more than a ruin. Wherever she looks, she sees people barely living. Most of them have already lost their battle with life and death. 

The war is raging around her, green, blue and red lightning bolts pass her by as she tries not to be hit. She has to go into hiding behind a massive stone as some death eaters are coming for her. 

She sees her friends. She quickly bolts up and follows them. Together they run to the shrieking shack. 

They stay hidden behind the door, not entering the room. They witness Voldemort ripping their potions master's throat open with a hex and then telling his snake to kill the man. 

Something inside the young woman shattered at that moment. 

As soon as Voldemort and his snake are gone, they enter the small rundown room. 

They step up to the dying man and Harry kneels down next to the man in black trying to stop the heavy bleeding on his neck. 

Try as he might, there is a small puddle emerging from under the professor. Raspy, the man tells Harry to take the tears he just shed. 

Panicking, Hermione produces a vial from out of her beaded bag, handing it to Harry. 

The dying man's breathing is getting shallower and raspier with each passing second, his throat beginning to gurgle. Summoning all his leftover energy he said: "You have your mother's eyes." His eyes lost their focus and their shine as he takes his last shaky breath. 

Harry bolts up, running to the headmaster's office to view whatever the professor wanted to show him. 

Ron tries to get Hermione to follow him, grabbing her by her arm, but she struggles to escape his grasp, her view clouded by tears. She succeeds and runs to the man kneeling down searching feverishly for something on her bag. 

Sighing with relief at having found it, she shoves a bezoar down the man's throat. Then she uncorks a few vials, dumping potion after potion down his throat. Finally, she applies a slightly yellowish fluid on his neck wound before a certain red head catches her around her waist, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her away as she tries to get him to set her down, so she can go back to the dour potions master. 

She cries and hits his back with her fists as he tries to soothe her. 

"Hush, everything is okay. You did everything you could, but it's too late. You did more than that bastard deserved. Most would have just left him to rot, me included. It's all going to be okay." 

She closes her eyes still weeping and opens them only when they enter the Great Hall again. She sees many friends, fellow students and order members seeking treatment. 

In the middle she sees Colin Creevey, Remus and Tonks - all unmoving and a little further down the path a mass of redheads staring down at the floor, all sobbing. As they catch sight of who they are mourning, Ron collapses to the ground. 

There, lying dead on the cold stone floor, is Fred Weasley, pale as a ghost with a small smile across his lips, but his eyes are cold, the light in them gone.

She had woken up at that every time she dreamt this. 

Sighing she glanced at her clock. 

5 o'clock. 

No use trying to find sleep again, so she went for a shower, dressed and went to the library before breakfast.