Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

A/N: This is my first attempt at Harry Potter fanfic. I don't really have a basic outline for it yet, just a few ideas that have been lying around in a folder for quite some time now.


The train whistle blew from above, indicating the stroke of eleven. Hermione watched from the window of her compartment as parents shouted last minute reminders to their children as the Hogwarts Express slowly began to make yet another magical journey back home.

"Watch out after your little sister dear!"

"Write home as soon as you get settled in!"

"Don't be nervous pumpkin, you'll do great at Hogwarts!"

She turned away from the window as the parents – along with their shouts, faded off into the distance as the train began picking up speed. Her ride to Hogwarts was a quiet one, she spent the hours doing usual Hermione things. Reading a handful of chapters from one of the many muggle novels that she had managed to accumulate over the course of summer vacation. Crocheting half a dozen granny squares for the afghan that she planned to make as a Christmas gift for her mother. She painted her nails Gryffindor red and then picked at the polish until her nails were bare again. An hour before the train pulled into Hogsmeade she double checked the security charms on the compartment door and napped until the conductor announced their arrival to the castle.

There was no Harry…

Or any Weasley's.

She didn't worry about her prefect duties, or have any bad altercations with any Slytherins.

Just sweet ol' Hermione time.

She stepped off of the train and followed the crowd of returning students as they made their way up to the carriages, she pulled the hood of her cloak up over her head when she spotted Harry and Ron standing at the head of the crowd. She kept her face down as she walked past them, it was quite obvious from their shouts of 'Mione!' to figure out that they were looking for her.

She couldn't face them, not yet at least.

When the war ended, so many things happened so fast it quite literally made her head spin. At first the Wizarding World went ballistic, celebration was in constant swing.

Voldemort was dead!

But so were many others…

She never knew just how hard she could cry until the week they laid all the war Heros to rest.

She would rather feel the Cruciatus Curse a thousand times over than watch George hopelessly sob for his late twin to 'please wake up and stop this horrid sick joke, its not funny!' had been his exact plea. She would gladly throw herself under the Express if it meant that distant look in Harrys eyes would go away. She would've traded all of her good grades and smarts in for baby Teddy to have his mummy and daddy.

Hermione pulled her hood around her face a little closer and got into the carriage, unblinkingly staring at the once upon a time invisible Thestrals, she didn't look up when someone else boarded the carriage – they didn't speak either. Neither of them made a sound as the carriage started to pull down the pathway to Hogwarts, the feeling of dread slowly started to creep up on Hermione as the castle came into sight.

"Merlin, kill me now…" She found herself muttering.


So, how is it so far? Good? Bad? Should I continue or just scrap it altogether? If I continue this story I swear the chapters will be much longer than this one, haha.