Invisible

One year after the final battle…

Hermione walked down the streets of Diagon Alley slowly, appreciating the life of the street. It seemed such a mundane thing to think about, but she still vividly remembered how deserted it was that last year of the war, and how most shops were boarded up and business was conducted as quickly as possible. A year after the war everything seemed back to the way it normally was, better even if that was possible.

The wizarding world was in a new ear of peace, and almost all on the Dark Side had been rounded up and either sent to Azkaban (without the Dementors any more) or sentenced to a type of reforming community service to help rebuild all that had been destroyed. She knew she should feel happier than she did, but the war weighed so heavily on her. She presented the world with a happy face most of the time, attended all the irritatingly supplicating Ministry functions that honored the "heroes" of the war, and visited her friends occasionally. It wasn't that she hated the Ministry, but she always partially blamed them for turning a blind eye on the Voldermort situation when it was most crucial. To force everyone to attend ceremonies and galas non-stop was trying, but she did her best to put on a brave face and push her horrific memories of the war down on those nights. She would never forget the death and devastation that lay around her as they fought to the end and destroyed Voldermort.

So many good people, friends, had died.

She logically knew none of it was her fault, but a part of her always wondered if she had somehow been cleverer or quicker in that last year if things would have turned out different. She knew she was horribly wracked with guilt, but when she tried to confide in Harry or Ron they brushed her off. She knew they were choosing not to think of it and just move on with their lives. Hermione was pleased that they both seemed to be adjusting better than she did but a tiny part of her resented them for it.

Ron more so that Harry. Both were in Auror training and busy with the new lives they had carved out. Harry and Ginny were finally together properly, and Ron was enjoying the life of a playboy. She knew deep down they never would have worked together long term, but it hurt that just a month after the final battle Ron had made it clear that he wanted to "play the field." She felt discarded and used, but knew he never would have understood her anyways. The Daily Prophet had gotten wind of their break-up and had made a much bigger deal out about it and were fairly scathing about her role in all of it. It didn't help that his "conquests" were constantly in the gossip section of the paper, and they occasionally still brought her up in comparison to his new paramours. Hermione knew she was no great beauty, and always valued her mind and intelligence much more than her looks, but it still hurt. A lot. While Ron started his career as a "man of the night" (she smirked secretly to herself at the way she referred to his activities to herself) she hadn't had the heart to get involved with anyone romantically. She didn't have the energy or patience for a muggle right now, and most all other wizards just wanted a shot at the limelight with the female portion of the golden trio.

She told herself she didn't care, that she had been busy enough studying after the war to officially finish her skipped year from Hogwarts and ace her NEWTS. She had just started at the only wizarding University in England, and for once she didn't know what she wanted to study. In a very uncharacteristic move, she had declared herself Undecided, and had signed up just for basic prerequisites in her first year. Hence her trip to Diagon Alley to obtain some school supplies.

As she walked down the lane, she tried to keep her face cheery, or at least not as exhausted as she felt. She knew her glamour charms would keep those who knew her from remarking on the bags under her eyes and her thinner frame. Hermione didn't want questions, and she certainly did not want some sort of ridiculous article to come out about her in the paper. She nodded serenely to those who passed her by, and was thankful none of them seemed inclined to stop and talk to her.

Minus occasional gatherings with former Order members and Harry and Ron, she had kept to herself the last few months. She was always polite and pleasant, although sometimes it took all of her willpower and strength not to snap at her friends or yell at their inane chatter. How had they just moved on? She knew Harry deserved some peace but she envied that he found it so easily after the war. Frowning slightly she tried to push that thought from her mind, her mask was more difficult to keep on if she let her thoughts stray.

As she walked towards Flourish and Blotts she caught sight of white blonde hair above the passenger traffic. She immediately tensed and considered her options. There were only a few people who had that ridiculous hair, and she wanted to see neither. Last she had heard Draco was on an extended holiday somewhere on the continent. So was his mother. The Malfoy divorce had been messy and widely publicized a few months ago. She had no idea where Lucius was because there hadn't been any gossip in the papers on him since the divorce. In the final moments of the battle the Malfoys had changed sides, and that decision had kept them out of prison. That and money that had helped to rebuild a big part of Wizarding Britain. They had been sentenced to the community rebuilding, and heavily fined for their part in the war.

Hermione had almost felt bad for Draco at the end, as it was obvious that he was very much under the iron clad control of the Malfoy patriarch, and she wasn't sure if he had really wanted to be a Death Eater. She still thought him an insufferable git, but she didn't really spare brain cells on thinking about him. Malfoy senior on the other hand, deserved a much harsher punishment than he had received, and she always felt guilty about testifying at his trial. She had seen him turn sides when it was obvious it would be more advantageous, and even though he was acting out of self interest, he did help throw off a few of the nastier Death Eaters at key moments in the battle. Even battered and disheveled, he exuded a power with magic, and was certainly a force to be reckoned. Her testimony had kept his family out of prison, but a part of her had wanted to see him suffer. Even at his trial he was still supercilious and condescending, but she knew her guilt would have been worse if she had lied and condemned him.

Hermione tried to veer away to avoid whoever was the owner of the flash of blonde expensive robes. She wasn't sure how she would react upon seeing one of the Malfoy men, either angry and outraged, or apprehensive and fearful but she didn't relish either.

She decided she would just slip into the bookshop as unobtrusively as possible and keep her head down. As she cut across the street quickly, head down, she ran smack into a hard chest.

Shit, she thought. Mumbling an apology at the tall monstrosity she had bumped into she tried to side-step around the body.

Suddenly the figured grasped her upper arm with a harsh grip and pulled her into a side alley. It happened so fast she barely had time to react, and the arm in a very painful grip was her wand arm and she couldn't reach her wand in the folds of her robes. A muffled scream had escaped her mouth but no one had seemed to hear or notice.

In the alley way she looked up at her assailant ready to give him a piece of her mind when she gasped in shock.

It was Malfoy.

Malfoy senior, and he was looking at her with a mixture of surprise and haughtiness that he quickly schooled into a look of cool disdain, as if he had just realized who he had touched.

When the shock wore off Hermione, indignant at what had just happened, tried to wrench her arm free while glaring at him—

"Let go of me you arse. I'm sure there are already people on their way here to apprehend you."

Lucius raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at her and only tightened his grip further. He couldn't believe what had just happened. This little mudblood chit had just rammed into him and had spat an insult at him.

She had seen him.

He was perplexed and confused.

He continued staring down at her with an impassive face while his mind whirled away. Hermione refused to back down from his icy stare, even though he was very obviously trying to intimidate her with his immense height and bulk.

She did not remember him this physically menacing, but then again she had last seen him at his trial and he had been looking quite uncharacteristically raggedy. She was frightened, but a detached part of her knew that at any moment someone would see them in the alley or would be investigating her previous scream. Steel grey eyes met angry butterscotch ones and Hermione fought to hide the wince at the pain his grip was causing on her arm.

Finally Lucius sneered down at her,

"You really should watch where you are going you clumsy girl."

She could not believe his audacity and tried to break free of his disturbing grip again.

"It was an accident," she said between gritted teeth. "I'm warning you. Let me go right now."

He finally released his grip on her and she tried to subtly work circulation into her arm again before she reached for her wand. Apparently age had not slowed Malfoy's reflexes because his wand was trained on her before she had even reached all the way into her robes. With his other hand he gripped her wrist.

"No, no Granger, none of that," he practically purred at her, sending a shiver down Hermione's back.

And then he was gone with a pop, and Hermione was left in the alley with a bruised arm and a confused look on her face.

Hope you like! I broke down the paragraphs more and spelled a certain heroine's name right ; )