In the crazy world
Anything can happen
If you will it to

The field where the final battle occurred is located somewhere in the English countryside. Draco Malfoy is not entirely sure where. When he apparated, he simply thought of fire and chaos, burning flesh and the static electricity of massive amounts of powerful magic being performed all at the same time. As he sets foot onto the moist earth, he wonders briefly if it is possible to apparate yourself into a moment in time. If so, he would really need to learn the name of this place because as it was, he was tempting fate pretty severely.

He pads his way across the field, advancing as the Death Eaters had advanced in battle. The grass seems to have come full circle since then. The brown brittle stalks are tall, coming up to his thighs, giving the notion that it had grown wild in his absence and was beginning to die off again. That night it had been short, almost barren, as they had fought, blood and sweat making the ground moist and springy beneath his feet; much like it was now. He walks along, fingertips skimming the tops of the grass, stopping every once and awhile to glance all around him.

He stops.

Without realizing it he has come upon the spot where it had all began. It hit him suddenly, the memory, and he staggered slightly at the power of it.

Quarter after ten, waiting. Waiting in the underbrush rimming a large stretch of land, far away from muggle eyes Far away from anything. He can hear mass movement behind him, all of them waiting. At half past, he stands and begins making his way across the field. The moon is out and that is the only way he can see his father advancing toward him, a cool wind causing his long hair to ripple around his head, giving him a ethereal glow.

Both regarded the other coolly, as was their custom. They had met under the guise of gathering information but both knew it was a ruse, a simple way to bring the two sides to a place where they could wage war. Lucius Malfoy looked down on his son and for the first time since Draco had been inducted into the Death Eaters, since he had been working for the Order, Lucius did not hide the fact that he knew. There was no need for that any more. The sides were clearly drawn and both parties knew which side the other fell on. Draco stood tall for a moment, under his father's disapproving gaze and then bent down in a bow, a sign of respect and defiance melded together. Lucius drew his wand but Draco was quicker, the jet a green light hitting Lucius squarely in the chest before he even had the chance to draw breath to say the curse. The battle had begun

Draco shivers slightly, a cold sweat drenching him and he urges his legs to stop trembling and move him forward. He wanders around a bit, his mind jumping from past to present, closing his eyes on the browning grass and cloudy sky to see the flashes of hexes and curses lighting up the night in the shadowed theatre of his memory.

He stops suddenly, watching the tall reeds rustle several yards in front of him. He takes a cautious step forward, trying to be silent but his foot finds a twig, most likely the only one within a hundred yards of him and curses. Stealth has never been his strong suit. He hears a tiny gasp and a large bushy head shoots up from the sheets of browning grass. He sighs heavily as she gives him a small smile and he closes the gap between them.

Just a hazy girl
Blurring all the edges
Only seeing blue

"Granger."

"Draco," she replies standing.

She begins to dust herself off, wiping her hands on her denim clad thighs, doing her best to shake bits of grass off the back of her white t-shirt. Draco reaches out to pull a blade from her hair, and she smiles stiffly at him, shaking her mane, letting little bits of grass and earth fly into the wind.

"Long time," he says after a moment of observing her.

"Yes."

There is in awkward pause in which they both look away, taking in their surroundings as if they had never done it before.

"Come here often?" Granger asks and he returns his gaze to her to find a small smile playing across her lips.

"No," he replies the corners of his mouth twitching, which is the closest he ever comes to smiling these days.

"It's good to come here," she replies turning her back to him, throwing her arms out and spinning a few times, making Draco feel awkward.

"What are you doing Granger?" he asks raising an eyebrow at her.

"Oh honestly Draco," she says dropping her hands to her hips and shaking her head at him. "Can't you call me Hermione yet?"

"No," he states, mouth twitching again.

"Fine," she replies airily, and resumes her spinning.

It's a Wild Hope
A Wild Hope
A Wild Hope
Everything will be alright

He watches her mesmerized, her golden brown curls floating in the air like a halo surrounding her head, her small body spinning so fast she seems as if she is just a blur. He was beginning to become dizzy just by watching her and just as he was about to open his mouth to make some sort of snide comment, she loses her balance and goes tumbling beneath the grass once again.

He rushes over, dropping to her side. Her chest is heaving, her eyes closed. He reaches out and touches her hand and her eyes snap open, the brown orbs vibrating slightly in their sockets and he wonders briefly if she was going to be sick. Then she smiles brilliantly.

"Are you mad, woman?" he asks trying to help pull her into a sitting position but she swats him away.

"Don't you ever just want to lose control Draco?" she pants and he looks down at her bewildered.

"No," he states and her smile widens.

"I never did either, before…" she trails, her eyes turning glassy into a haunted stare. She blinks it away. "Come lay down."

She tugs on his arm and he loses his balance, tumbling down next to her. His head is cradled by the soft earth and her hair blows across his face, tickling his cheeks as his silver orbs scan the granite colored sky. It reminds him a lot of the painting in the hotel room he has been calling home for the past year. It is a portrait of Venice, done in black and white oils which, he assumed, was supposed to make it look majestic but all it really did was make it look like it was raining. He likes that painting; it reminds him of a charcoal drawing his mother did when he was a child, of the same city. It had sat on her dressing table all through his childhood and she had given it to him when he had gone to Hogwarts, a reminder of home. It had burned with the school in one of the many Death Eater attacks.

Lost inside
A painting of a city on a hotel wall
Days goes by
Wasting golden hours in the fall

"Are you still staying at that hotel?"

Her voice shatters the silence and he nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound. Her hair is still brushing against his chin and neck.

"Yes."

"Why don't you find a flat?"

He shrugs, continuing to stare up at the sky, watching the clouds roll like waves. One of his hands is resting on his chest, the other laying between then, twisting grass around his fingertips. He feels her hand brush his as she arches her back, seemingly trying to get into a more comfortable position. It seems like an accident until he feels her fingers entwine with his and his whole body goes rigid.

"Calm down, Draco," she sighs, and he can see from the corner of his eye that her eyes are closed. "It's just a gesture."

"Of what?" he grunts uncomfortably.

"Of…" She's searching for the words. "Of friendship…" Her thumb is rubbing small circles on the back of his hand. "Of maybe more than that…"

It's a Wild Hope
A Wild Hope
A Wild Hope
Everything will be alright

They are silent for a long time, hands still clasped, laying in the middle of a field where so many of their friends and enemies had perished. Draco thinks briefly of leaving, but that would almost definitely mean letting go and he wasn't quite sure he was ready to do that yet, a thought which scared the ever loving hell out of him.

"Do you miss your father?" Hermione asks suddenly and his hand jerks out of hers from the shock.

"No."

"Not at all?"

"No."

"Not even a little?" she asks, rolling onto her side to survey him, propping her chin on her hand.

"No, Granger," he says slowly, annoyed.

She hums and continues to stare down at him for a moment before pulling herself to her feet. He looks up at her dumbly as she, once again, vainly attempts to brush the dirt off of herself. She looks down at him, and right then the setting sun breaks through the clouds, drenching her in a soft golden light. She is suddenly silhouetted against the light, her edges glowing and vibrating. She smiles, holding out a hand to him and he is dazzled by her brilliance, for once the word not used in the context of her mind but her spirit. He marvels at how she can seem so unaffected by this place. How she can shine so brightly in a place that holds nothing but darkness.

I catch a glimpse of our reflection
Beside you I see myself
We are the season's new collection
We look like everybody else

He grasps her hand, allowing her to pull him to his feet as their eyes lock, a myriad of emotions fading in and out, gazing back at him. He reaches out, tucking a wild curl behind her ear and she smiles a tight lipped smile, inclining her head toward his touch. He pulls back awkwardly.

"Where are you going now?" she asks and he looks away.

He shrugs. He was planning on just going to his hotel after this. But something is different now. Something inside him isn't right. Isn't the same as it was when he had set foot onto this field a little less than an hour ago. It was a feeling much the same as the one he had experienced the night of the final battle. After the smoke had cleared and the bodies had been gathered, he had stood there, watching the others around him twitter about with nothing to do, he had wondered if he would ever be the same.

"Home," he says finally and she raises an eyebrow at him. "Where ever that is." His mouth twitches again.

"I'll see you around then," she replies as she turns away, and as she walks she looks at him over her shoulder. "It's okay to smile, Draco."

He snorts and watches her walk a little further away before he speaks, his voice startling him.

"Hermione!"

She turns, continuing to walk backwards as she awaits the reason for his stopping her.

"What is this place called?"

She smiles. "Hope's Shire"

He nods and she turns walking away before disappearing with a pop. He watches the spot she had just occupied, and sighs heavily closing his eyes on the grassy field, filling his mind with thoughts of London and the unpleasant feeling of being crushed as he disapparates with a pop.

Walk alone
Through the crowded streets into the fading grey
Here and gone
Like a decoration for the holiday

He appears in the middle of a busy street, muggles all around him. They never notice anything, he muses, as he walks along, joining the crowd. He thinks, for a moment, he glimpses a bushy mane of hair up ahead but before he has the chance to look closer it is gone and his mind is filled with her image, her face glowing in the grey light, little tufts of grass laced into her golden brown curls, a soft smile playing across her lips. He remembers how soft and warm her hand had felt in his.

And for the first time in a year, since the last battle, hell since before he could remember the corners of his lips twitched and he let the smile break out across his handsome face.

It's a Wild Hope
A Wild Hope
A Wild Hope
Everything will be alright