A/N: I don't own anything. It mainly takes place after the Battle of Hogwarts, with transitions between past and present. Oh and the epilogue of Deathly Hallows never happened in this fic!
Chapter One: Vanished Memory
The war had ended. A few years had passed. Everything was finally going back to normal. At least, as normal as they could go with what was left. Even though the war was won, it didn't come without losses. Lupin, Tonks and Fred had all received proper burials along with everyone else who had died a few days after. The same could not have been done for Hermione Granger, however. No one knew how it happened. No one saw the moment when she vanished. She had been with them when they won. Both Harry and Ron attested to that. She had even gone back to the Burrow with the Weasleys and Harry, deciding to leave for Australia for her parents after the funeral. And that was the last that anyone saw of her. That next morning, they were woken up by a piercing scream that came from Ginny's room. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had come first, shoving open the door, followed quickly by Ron, Harry and Charlie, and then finally Bill, Fleur, Percy and George. They couldn't believe their eyes as they surveyed the room. Ginny was huddled in the corner, white-faced and shaking violently, as she stared at her bed which she and Hermione had been sharing the previous night. The bed was stained with copious amounts of half-dried blood on Hermione's side. The sheets had been either torn or twisted. The window had been smashed open.
What had happened to Hermione, no one ever knew. Right after the funerals, the Ministry spent almost two years on the case, with Kingsley himself leading the Aurors. But they turned up nothing, and he was forced to close up the case. The Weasleys and Harry could not blame him; it was hard to make a case with no evidence. So finally, after two years of searching were over, Hermione was given a memorial and a service in her memory. There was no need for a coffin; her body was never found.
It would be another 3 years after the memorial until things began to go back to normal. Harry and Ginny were now engaged, something that delighted the Weasley family. Harry had become and Auror and Ginny was playing for the Holyhead Harpies. Mr. Weasley and Percy were both given promotions at work. Mrs. Weasley's daily routine hadn't changed, but she seemed less prone to fits of crying. Bill and Fleur were taking care of their child and expecting another one. Charlie was back in Romania, working with dragons again. Ron was running Weasley's Wizard Wheezes with George. Only George seemed to remain unable to move on, and who could blame him? His other half had been killed in the war. He became more and more withdrawn with each passing day, until he was virtually a recluse. He also took to staying up most nights and sleeping during the day. That way, he wouldn't have to deal with the pitying stares and comfort attempts. Several times, he actually contemplated joining his brother, before telling himself that Fred would be angry if he did it.
Tonight, he was going through the same routine of staying up the night, sunken deep into his misery, when he heard a large crash downstairs. Startled, he got out of bed. He could hear footsteps thundering down the stairs, and knew the rest of his family had heard it too. Part of him wanted to stay put and let them take care of it. The other part of him told him to go downstairs. He listened to that part.
When he arrived, he saw Ginny, Harry, Ron, his father and his mother grouped around a figure wrapped in dirty black rags. Ginny was cradling the figure and seemed to be whispering words of comfort to it. Ron and Harry appeared to be trying to comfort it as well, while his mother was waving her wand over the figure, presumably to heal it. Indeed, as George took a closer look, blood seemed to be dripping from the rags which it was wearing.
"Shhhh...it's okay...don't talk. Everything's gonna be fine, you're safe now," said Ginny in a soothing voice.
"Be careful with her, Ginny, dear," said Mrs. Weasley.
"Who could have done this?" asked Harry.
"Why would anyone do this to her?" asked Ron.
"I don't know. But it had to be someone or something powerful enough to reduce her to such a state. I'll notify Kingsley at once," said Mr. Weasley, and Disapparated.
George spoke up.
"What's going on?"
After a long pause, Ginny answered.
"You heard that crash, didn't you? We all thought it was a thief. But when we came down, we saw her like this. She was hysterical, and she didn't seem to recognize any of us," she said in a trembling voice.
"Wait, but why...?"
George never got to finish his sentence. When he stepped closer, he saw who it was as the rags fell from her shoulders. She was pale and painfully thin. Her skin was streaked with mud and dried bloodstains. Dirt, grass and various plant matter clung to her hair, which had grown long and tangled. It was her hair that made him realize who this girl was. Only one girl had that bushy brown hair.
"Hermione?"
At the sound of her name, her eyes turned toward him. And as soon as their eyes met, George Weasley knew that something was very wrong with her.
To be continued...