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Hermione Granger had been the third in a famous trio of young heroes. She had faced death multiple times and had fought the darkest of wizards. There would be tales of her times during the war and of her adventures with her best friends told for many years.

But when the battle ended, when the smoke had cleared and dust had settled, Hermione watched as her friends grew and gained a proud confidence. The boys had become men, finding their place in the new world and making it theirs.

She, on the other hand, was left confused and a little lost. Many expected her to take a position within the ministry. Some even whispered about her becoming a professor at Hogwarts, and while these were all noble careers in of themselves, she couldn’t shake the strange twist to her stomach at the thought.

The thought of… not being. Of not doing.

That summer, nearly a year after the bloody battle at Hogwarts, she fled The Burrow. Not many people could understand her need, but Harry had known. He always did in that silent way of his. She was sure it would take Ron years before he could comprehend why they didn’t work as a couple but she was positive he would be rather busy, what with all of his Auror work. Her heart was hurting in its loss but she determined to find her place.

To a witch who had experienced the adventure, the taste of adrenaline and excitement, there was no going back. Not that she had been one to simply sit and do as she’d been told. When she discovered she was a witch, she jumped head first, the drive to learn, to know, to be apart had overcome any of her anxieties.

The same could be said for her now. Hermione the Wild, she was called. The girl who chased unknown magical creatures across the land for the sake of knowledge. She who tamed a dragon with soft words and bribes of treats. She who risked life and limb over and over, who felt the absolute need to never stop moving, lest the nightmares return. Wild, they whispered.

Hermione couldn’t resist the call of the unknown. She had never been one to let the challenge of remarkable knowledge go untouched and while many called her mad, she couldn’t help but laugh at the thought.

Maybe she was mad. But, for the love of Merlin, she was living!


He was sure no one set out to become the most hated person in the wizarding world. He’d even bet his measly income that his parents hadn’t thought twice about whether or not they had been liked before… Before his privileged and painful world had been flipped and torn to shreds.

Now, however, it wasn’t about being liked. Draco had shunned his father’s teachings of superiority not long after the Death Eaters trails began. After the true crimes of the men Lucius called friends had come to light. The senior Malfoy had unsurprisingly been convicted and sentenced to life in Azkaban. It had been a mighty relief to the young man, but he soon realized not all was well.

His mother had been dragged through the trials, both as a conspirator, but as a key figure in the final battle. She’d been spared by Potter’s testimony. They very person he’d been raised to despise had saved the only light left in his life.

Within the few weeks after, Draco watched his mother begin to crumble. The once strong and proud matriarch became sullen and bent. She hid herself away, only letting Draco or the house elves see to her. She spent many hours tearfully flipping through obituaries, even going days without eating saying she had to; that she deserved to feel the pain she and father had caused so many others.

And like the coward he was, he fled. Draco could no longer watch his once beautiful mother fall into a pit of despair so deep that there was no bottom.

But he hadn’t known, that murky London night, speeding through the air with his few belongings strapped to the side of his broom, that he would also be bringing her burden.

Because he too, felt the shame that enveloped her soul. He just didn’t know what it was he was feeling. Not until it was too late.

And it hit him so hard he hasn’t stopped running from it.

Draco Malfoy, disgraced prince of Slytherin, was reduced to secret names and under-the-table jobs in shady places. The once arrogant boy had become a haunted shell of a man, floating just beneath the surface, never feeling comfortable in one place for too long.

Fate is one thing Draco had believed in as a child and while he may have let go of such childish fantasies, the universe was not done with him. Not when two runaways were looking for something neither one could figure out.

So, I revamped this whole story. When I first posted it, I was hoping to get some feedback to see if a Dramione fic would be something to invest my heart in, but I see now I had no choice. My heart has been in it since I read the first book all those years ago.

So now I will be writing about my couple. I hope you enjoy!