Chapter Text

Nervously, Hermione Granger tore her gaze away from the pitoresque village of Hogsmeade, where she had apparated to the outskirts. In the distance, the familiar towers of Hogwarts loomed; her past, and for the next year, her home. Even though she had been looking forward to starting her new position, the sight of the old castle unleashed a whirl of memories and emotions she hadn't quite prepared for.

With a quiet sigh, Hermione climbed the hill toward the castle. With every step her anxiety lifted, little by little. This was a place she knew, not an uncertain future. There was nothing left to fear here. At least, she told herself with a soft tremble of her heart, nothing she knew of. Hogwarts had always been a place of riddles and eccentric magic. She would be a fool to believe there were no hidden dangers left. Her youth had taught her better.

Professor McGonagall was already waiting in the Entrance Hall, greeting her with a warm smile.

"Miss Granger." Her former teacher, clad in her ever-immaculate emerald robes and with her grey hair pulled tightly into its usual bun, looked genuinely pleased to see her.

"Professor McGonagall", Hermione replied, relieved to see the familiar face.

McGonagall pulled her into a surprisingly firm hug, which Hermione returned, startled, but grateful.

"Minerva, please", the Headmistress offered.

"Hermione, then", she responded instinctively, her smile growing stronger.

"I'm glad you're here, Hermione," McGonagall said. "There's much to be done. But first, let’s have a cup of tea. If you'll follow me to my office."

As they made their way through the castle, Hermione found herself unable to stop staring. It had been four years since they had defeated Voldemort. Four years since the Battle of Hogwarts had left the castle battered and broken. And yet McGonagall had clearly spared no effort in restoring it. The school gleamed with new life, there was no mistaking it.

"You've done a remarkable job, Minerva", Hermione said earnestly.

"Thank you, my dear." McGonagall looked genuinely pleased. "But there's still much work ahead." She paused, then added meaningfully, "Which is part of the reason you're here."

McGonagall led Hermione into her office, sealing the door behind them with a casual flick of her wand. Hermione had always liked this room. It was cozy, and inviting; perfect for study, especially in dark winter nights, when the fireplace crackled and cast dancing shadows on the walls. But now, in early August, the windows stood wide open, letting in a warm breeze from the grounds below.

From where she stood, Hermione could make out Hagrid sitting outside his hut, his trouser legs rolled up as he carved something with surprising delicacy.

"Oh, Hagrid's been very excited to have you back at the castle", McGonagall said, following Hermione's gaze.

The thought of her friends reminded Hermione of something. "Harry and Ginny send their regards."

A warm smile crossed McGonagall's face. "That's lovely to hear. Are they all well?"

Hermione hesitated, then nodded. "Yes... yes, Harry and Ginny are doing wonderfully. We celebrated his birthday yesterday."

McGonagall nodded, knowingly. Her smile faded into a thin line.

"And Mr. Weasley?"

Hermione paused. "Fine... I mean, he's doing fine", she said, her voice faltering. "I think."

She didn't miss the subtle arch of McGonagall's eyebrow. But the Headmistress, ever tactful, changed the subject with practiced ease.

"Well, Hermione, I hope you'll feel at home here again soon. Your quarters are ready. You're welcome to make them your own. And of course, you'll have an office as well. Although..."

McGonagall leaned against her desk, fixing Hermione with a level gaze.

"Project Lumina will require many long hours in the library."

Hermione couldn't help but grin. "Then nothing has changed."

McGonagall's mouth twitched. "That might be, but... I won't hide the fact this is a massive undertaking. I'm glad you accepted the position."

Hermione wondered whether McGonagall was referring to her time as a student – when she had earned a reputation as a relentless perfectionist – or to her more recent work as an advisor on magical legal history and educational reform within the Department of Magical Current Affairs.

"Believe me, Minerva, I'm absolutely thrilled about this opportunity."

"You say that now, Hermione." McGonagall gave a small sigh. "The cataloguing of the magical historical heritage is the largest archival project since–"

"--since the founding of the Hogwarts Library", Hermione finished for her, eyes sparkling. "I know exactly what I signed up for."

McGonagall's mouth formed another thin line. "Even so, I thought it appropriate to assign you a colleague to assist with the work."

A colleague? Hermione raised an eyebrow. A co-worker had never been mentioned. She had fully expected to work alone on Project Lumina. And she didn't like the news. She was used to working independently, and at a pace most of her Ministry colleagues had struggled to match. More often than not, they had simply slowed her down.

"I assumed... well, I thought I'd be working alone. I've already drawn up a tight project plan–"

"All the better", McGonagall interrupted. "Your colleague will no doubt help you make even faster progress."

Hermione sighed. She still had doubts.

McGonagall observed her quietly for a moment.

"Very well", Hermione said, with a touch of irritation in her voice. "I'd like to get an overview as soon as possible. When does my... colleague begin?"

"Oh, he should be arriving any moment",  McGonagall replied, sounding a little uneasy.

"You do understand you are leading this project?", she added, and Hermione got the distinct impression it was meant as a sort of reassurance.

Before she could respond, there was a knock, and the door swung open without hesitation. Hermione turned, annoyed. Entering without invitation was, in her opinion, downright rude. The sight of the young man standing in the doorway, however, caused her expression to darken immediately.

"You!?" she snapped, stunned.

Draco Malfoy's mouth twitched into a half-smirk, and with a slight nod in her direction, he drawled, "Still as eloquent as ever, Granger."

"Mr Malfoy, thank you for making the time", McGonagall said politely, stepping around her desk to shake his hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, Professor."

Hermione watched as McGonagall's tight-lipped expression softened into something that might have been the beginning of a smile.

"Excuse me", Hermione said sharply to Malfoy. "We were in the middle of a conversation about my new job."

Malfoy turned to her, now genuinely smiling. "Then I've arrived at the right moment."

Hermione blinked. "What's that supposed to mean? What have you–?"

And then the realization hit her. Her face paled.

"No", she breathed.

"Bravo, Granger. For a moment I was worried your mental faculties had dulled", Malfoy sneered.

McGonagall rolled her eyes in a way that was meant for them to see.

"You two", she said, with a note of exasperation. "One might have hoped you'd grown up by now and left your adolescent squabbles behind."

"Adolescent squabbles?" Hermione echoed, incredulous, while Malfoy let out a quiet laugh.

"Minerva, have you forgotten how Malfoy behaved? What he did?"

McGonagall fixed her with a stern look. That look. The one that, even after all these years, made Hermione feel like a schoolgirl again.

"I most certainly have not," the Headmistress said firmly. "But I believe in second chances. A value, I might add, Gryffindor House has always held dear." She paused. "And I have to point out Mr Malfoy has done exceptional work in rebuilding this castle after the war. Therefore, I'm confident the two of you are capable of accomplishing something extraordinary.” She looked sternly from Malfoy to Hermione, before she added, “Together."

*

Professor McGonagall had arranged for Hermione a comfortable bedroom with an adjoining study on the south side of the castle. The walls were wood-panelled, and a four-poster bed with deep crimson velvet curtains stood upon a raised platform, accessible by a graceful, winding staircase. The brass fittings on the staircase and furniture gleamed golden in the afternoon light. From the tall window, Hermione could see the lake glistening in the distance and the treetops of the Forbidden Forest swaying gently in the breeze.

With a casual flick of her wand, her travel trunks opened themselves and unpacked. Robes folded into drawers, books lined up neatly on the shelves, and quills arranged themselves into their inkwells. Once everything was in place, Hermione stepped to the window, her gaze drifting across the grounds, lost in thought.

If she understood correctly, Malfoy had volunteered for Project Lumina. Hermione found that even harder to comprehend. Of course, she knew Malfoy had helped rebuild the castle after the Battle of Hogwarts as part of his legal punishment. But that was just what it was: a punishment. Why would he voluntarily stay here now? Of all the people she knew, hardly anyone had spoken so disparagingly about the school. Or about the students. Especially those like her, Muggle-borns. McGonagall should have known it was impossible to work with him.

As much as she had looked forward to her new challenge, Malfoy's sudden presence had settled like a bitter stone in her stomach. She had never forgiven him for the torment he had put her through during their school years. And another year of that? She could certainly do without it. 

Hagrid spotted her from a distance and waved enthusiastically with his great hand as Hermione jogged across the grounds toward him.

"Hermione!" he boomed, scooping her up in one of his infamous rib-crushing hugs. She didn't resist. It was too good to see him again.

"Blimey, Hermione, I can't believe you're back." His beard split into a wide grin. "Fancy a cuppa?"

"Only if it's iced," Hermione replied, and Hagrid chuckled deeply.

He pointed his pink umbrella at the teapot.

Hermione frowned slightly as she watched him. Since his full reinstatement, Hagrid had been permitted to use magic again; she'd even seen him do so more than once. So why was he still hiding his wand inside that ridiculous umbrella?

He caught her look and gave a sheepish shrug. "Force o' habit," he muttered, and Hermione decided not to press the issue.

"'M glad you're here," Hagrid said as they settled on the bench in front of his hut.

"Especially in summer. Still a few weeks till the school year begins. Gets mighty quiet 'round here durin' the holidays, y'know."

Hermione nodded, doing her best to smile.

Hagrid glanced sideways at her.

"Somethin's botherin' you," he rumbled, more to himself than to her. Hermione debated ignoring the comment.

"It's not Ron, is it?" he asked, his tone darkening.

"Hagrid!" Hermione said sharply. "How did you…?"

He turned a shade of pink under his beard. "Harry," he muttered, guiltily.

"Sent me a letter. ‘S been a while now," he added, folding his enormous hands in his lap.

Hermione bit her lower lip, waiting to see if he would say more. When the silence stretched uncomfortably, she realised she would have to fill it.

"It simply didn't work out," she said at last.

Hagrid nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"It's all right," she said softly, managing a small smile.

"But that's not all, is it? I can see it in yer face."

Hermione sighed and lifted her gaze.

"Malfoy is here," she said bluntly. "McGonagall brought him in to work with me on Project Lumina."

Hagrid raised his bushy eyebrows and stared at her with furrowed brows.

"He’d helped her a lot after the war”, he stated, as if that explained anything.

Hermione lifted a shoulder in a helpless shrug.

"And how do we feel about that?" Hagrid asked, with mock seriousness.

The phrasing made her smile, and she glanced up at the half-giant gratefully.

"It's putting a bit of a damper on my enthusiasm, to be honest," she admitted.

Hagrid patted her shoulder so heartily she let out an involuntary gasp as the air was knocked from her lungs.

"Aw, it'll be all right, Hermione. McGonagall says Malfoy's changed. Grown up, even."

They again sat in silence for a moment.

Then Hermione turned her head a little and gave Hagrid a side-eyed look, and both of them burst into brief laughter.

But Hagrid's expression quickly sobered again.

"Ain't right, you feelin' this weighed down by him. I get it, though. I really do." He sighed. "It's not easy, but one day we've got to forgive 'em. Holdin' onto that much anger ain't healthy."

This time, Hermione didn't meet his beetle-black eyes. Instead, she stared straight ahead, up toward the castle, her jaw set.

She knew he was right.

But how on earth was she supposed to forgive Draco Malfoy?