This was where it all began.

Standing on the stone steps, the massive wooden doors of the Great Hall behind her and the sprawling grounds in front of her, she couldn't help but smile. This was where it all began. With a twitch of her lips, her smile faded. This was where it all began. It was only fitting that this was where it had all ended.

She could hear the rumbling of hundreds of people inside the Great Hall. The press was calling this little gathering "The Canonization of Heroes." The mere thought of it brought bile to her throat. It was a funeral. Nothing more. Nothing less. Just because it was the last of so many. Just because they were lying to rest those most pivotal in the fall of dark side. They were all still dead and a fancy title wasn't going to make it any easier.

Suddenly she was over come with a memory from third year. Ron and Harry weren't speaking to her after she had told McGonagall about the Firebolt. The silence had been unbearable. She couldn't even begin to fathom what it would be like now that they were gone.

They had been the Golden Trio since their first year at Hogwarts. She was the brains, her logic saving them more than a few times. Ron was the brawn, his sheer force of belief and courage always surfacing when they needed it most. Harry was the heart, the center of it all, keeping them together.

After the war began and the sides had been clearly drawn, Draco Malfoy had begun referring to them as the Holy Trinity. He was incorrigible but a damn good spy so they put up with a lot of his bullshit. It was only now that she realized that maybe his description was the most accurate.

Harry was the Father, always leading, always trusting in the greater good, always striving for the survival of those under him. Ron was the Son, following Harry so diligently, carrying out every order, sometimes against his better judgment and a lot of times against his own will. And she…

She was the Holy Ghost. The one left behind to pick up the pieces.

"What the bloody hell are you doing out here Granger?"

She sighed.

"Bugger off, Malfoy."

"Come now, Granger. Is that any way to treat a distinguished war veteran?"

She turned to face him then and found a smirk on his face. She almost smiled. It had been a long time since she had seen it. She had seen variations of it, of course. The one for disdain, the one for arrogance, the one for ruthless mockery. But the smirk that now graced his handsome face was one of playful banter. It was nice to see it again.

"We're all war veterans Malfoy," she replied as he came to stand beside her, his hands in his pockets.

"This is true."

They settled into a comfortable silence then, each surveying the grounds of the place they had once called home which was now a hallowed battlefield. For a moment she could smell the burning flesh, feel the electricity of magic in the air. She closed her eyes against those memories, trying to bring back others.

The whomping willow. Where Harry and Ron crashed that blasted car of Arthur's at the beginning of their second year. Where Neville Longbottom was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange for three hours before succumbing to the sanctuary of his own insanity.

The lake. Where Harry had competed in the second task of the Triwizard Tournament their fourth year. Where Fluer Delacour was drowned by Antonin Dolohov in the final battle.

The Quidditch Pitch. Where Harry, eventually with the help of Ron, led Gryffindor house to victory. Where Harry and Ron led the wizarding world for one final victory.

"Ah memories," Draco sighed, the sarcasm in his voice so subtle that a casual listener might not have caught it.

"Everything is tainted," she breathed, shocking herself with her candor.

He turned to her then, looking at her piercingly, questioningly. His face softened after a moment and he turned his gaze back to the grounds before speaking.

"You know this is the first place I ever laid eyes on you?"

Her mind reeled. "Huh?"

"Here," he replied, scuffing the bottoms of his shoes against the stone steps. "First year, waiting for McGonagall to let us in the Great Hall for sorting. I remember thinking 'Good Lord how can one girl have so much hair!'"

"And I remember thinking 'how does one so young become so arrogant?'" she retorted and his jaw dropped in mock astonishment.

"Me?"

"Yes you."

He sighed. "This was where it all began…"

"This is where it all ended," she replied flatly.

He turned to look at her again, staring into her face, scanning it, searching it in a way that was rapidly making her uncomfortable. Before she even knew what was happening he was pulling his hands from his pockets to cup her face. His kiss was gentle and questioning, and she returned it with an awkwardness that was rapidly fading into comfort. As strange as it was to be kissing Draco Malfoy, it felt right.

When he pulled away, she asked quietly, "What the bloody hell was that Malfoy?"

He smiled, his hands still cupping her cheeks.

"A new beginning."