Hello, everyone! If you're catching me for the first time, welcome. I can't wait for you to join me on this new journey. If you've come back – I'm thrilled! I hope you enjoy what I have coming. I wanted to say thank you again for the outpouring of comments on my last story. I really do appreciate it and am working on getting back to each person that has reviewed. Those of you who were anon or left me no option to reply to reviews – I want to say thank you. I had a blast writing the last story and I hope to do the same with this new one.

I've had this in the works since last spring but with finishing my other epic and then work and real-life, well, we all know how it goes. I wanted to write something a bit more Hermione-centric this time (is that possible with the fact that I wrote Crimson? I don't know). I actually didn't have a pairing in mind for this one for a long time but in the end I chose Draco because Dramione are my OTP. I can't help it. I didn't actually change my original idea much however; I worked Draco into it. That means this story will have Hermione with multiple partners. My purpose this time was to write something a little less oppressive. This won't be fluffy though; I don't do that well! I don't know why – I just think the post-war, oppressed wizarding society is just more my thing. This story won't be for everyone (goes without saying when it comes to my stuff and those of you who read Crimson already know that). This story will contain sex (if you read the detailed synopsis below you will understand why), language and some violence. I am always up front with my readers. Please note the following before you read:

This is a multi-wizard fic focused on Hermione's life. I have categorized it as Dramione because Draco will play a huge role. However he is not Hermione's only partner – and in fact – will not be her partner during much of the first half of the story. It will span a good period of time and the romance will not happen all at once. This will be a slow-developing story.

Note that Hermione will be having relationships with more than one man/wizard. I thought by putting it out there at the beginning I wouldn't offend too many people who can only read Hermione/Draco.

This story will focus on Lucius Malfoy as well as Draco – I chose the Malfoy family because I haven't written about them much in my last epic and I do love Lucius.

This will most likely not have a happy ending. I say that only so people don't get invested for the wrong reasons.

If you're still with me, I'll give the following (detailed) synopsis. (Don't you hate the word limit for the summaries? :cheeky grin:)

Fallen Woman

Imagine a world where Harry Potter died trying to save the wizarding world. Imagine too, that Voldemort died as well but his prejudiced ideals did not die with him. Imagine a wizarding London that is enslaved by the ideals of pureblood supremacy and where Muggle-borns find themselves struggling to make a living and fighting constant prejudice. In this new world, Hermione Granger is stuck in a life she no longer wants, as Ron Weasley's dirty little secret and in a dead-end job as a waitress at a tiny, wizarding pub. With each day she feels a growing resentment for those in her life and for her own inability to make something of herself. It is a chance meeting with a man from her past which opens a door to a world Hermione had never imagined. She shuns her former life and the people she loves, beginning a descent into the debauchery of wine and pleasure, and soon becoming one of the most sought after escorts at the very popular, upscale gentleman's nightclub, Amortentia, bedding and winning over the elitists of pureblood society. Now, she has taken to bed with Theodore Nott, one of the wealthiest men in the city. She only knows superficial love and friendship, having shunned both realities for a life of sensual comforts and pleasure. But will the most unlikely of people, a sullen and unwilling Draco Malfoy, be the one to remind Hermione of what she has lost? And will a love between a Muggle-born witch who has lost her heart and an elite pureblood wizard have any chance of survival at all? Join me for a story of love, and pain, prejudice and forgiveness, despair and redemption. She is a fallen woman and he will usher in her redemption, but at what cost?

I hope you do take the time to check this out (if it sounds like your cup of tea) and if you do, please let me know what you think so far. I'm curious to know. And enjoy!

LCailan

Goodbye, My Friend

One week after the Final Battle

I sit here writing, although I think I ought to be getting ready for the funeral. I still can't believe it; Harry's dead. Oh, Harry! I don't think it's sunk in quite yet. And poor Ginny! The worst thing is that I can't even imagine what I could do or say to make this easier for her! Not to mention Ron, who hasn't eaten more than two bites in nearly a week! How can this be real? How can any of this be right? I thought for so long that if we just worked hard enough, good would win out. If he hunted long enough, found those horrid Horcruxes…oh, Harry! Did we fail you? What did we do wrong? How do we move on? What happens now?

It was a dismal morning and Hermione stared out of the large window of the funeral home. Outside, the cobbled streets and wide walk ways glimmered as the weak sunlight was reflected in the multitude of puddles. It had rained all morning.

It's proper, she thought miserably, glancing down at the black dress and proper pumps she was wearing. Then she caught a glimpse of herself in a small mirror that hung in the large foyer to her left. The girl staring back at her was pale and thin, a ghost of the one she had been even a year ago.

Hermione turned away from the looking-glass, patting the back of her chignon absently as she moved towards the two double doors leading to the main room in the funeral parlor. Just as she opened the doors, two identical red-haired men nearly walked into her.

"Wotcher, Hermione," said Fred, giving her one of those smiles that couldn't actually be called a smile, but instead a facial expression meant to be comforting. George offered her a hug and she hugged him back.

"How is she?"

Hermione felt almost as if she were speaking too loudly, that Ginny might overhear and grow angry at the fact that they were even discussing her. Since Harry's death, she had hardly said two words, let alone given reassurance that she was all right; everything simply believed she was near to breaking down.

"The same," George replied, frowning. Fred's attempt at a smile had gone, and he was watching his brother gravely, sighing just as he finished speaking.

"We tried to get her to eat, but it didn't do any good."

Hermione bit her lip.

"Right. I tried that with Ron, and it didn't do much good either."

The twins exchanged a look.

"No, not good when we're talking about Ron, the human rubbish disposal."

Hermione nodded, turning her head to the large, glass front doors just as Molly and Arthur stepped inside. Percy was behind them, holding the hand of Penelope Clearwater.

As before, she hurried to embrace the Weasley elders and offer a hug to Percy and Penelope as well. Molly brushed aside a few wayward curls from Hermione's pale face.

"How are you, dear?"

Molly's voice shimmered with warmth; it was as it always had been. Hermione had taken comfort in that voice for so long. Molly had become like her own mother during her years at Hogwarts and loving Ron had only cemented her relationship with his mother.

Hermione loved Molly Weasley but try as she might, in that moment, even she was of no comfort.

"I'm fine," she found herself saying woodenly as she accepted another hug from both older Weasleys. Though they appeared strong, Hermione could see the deep lines of pain in Molly's face and the sadness that had blanketed Arthur. She wished there was a spell, a charm – something – to take this all away.

Let it be a nightmare! Let me wake up after the final battle and realize that Harry isn't dead after all!

Hermione closed her eyes tightly and turned from the gathering of Weasleys so they wouldn't see her tears. They burned behind her closed eyelids and they would smear her makeup if she wasn't careful.

Stop this, Hermione! Be strong!

She hurried back to the waiting room to stare out at the rainy afternoon, biting hard against her knuckled fist.

I can't cry! I have to be the strong one!

She turned her eyes heavenward, praying for strength which she didn't feel. Her fingers gripped the window sash.

I mustn't cry! Ginny will need me; how will she go on without Harry? He was the love of her life. What I feel pales in comparison to what she is going through!

For a few moments Hermione willed herself to not think. She listened to the steady sound of the falling rain, taking breaths to calm herself.

Harry and Ron were best mates – what must it be like to lose your best mate?

As she stood wondering, those she had left watched her with a sad silence. Hermione, in all her preoccupation and grief over Harry and her friends, had not yet realized that she, too, had suffered an immeasurable loss. They only wondered when she would realize it and would allow herself to feel it.

They buried Harry just after three in the afternoon.

He was laid to rest in the tiny cemetery behind the church in Godric's Hollow.

The rain had let up for a bit and the ground where they interred him was water-logged. Hermione would forever recall the scent of rain in the cool afternoon air and the thick, rich scent of earth. Somehow this little village in England would always be associated with a deep sadness. Not only sadness because of what had happened to Harry's parents here but now because Harry had finally joined them, much too early.

Though she and the Weasley family had arrived in London early, soon enough there were so many faces Hermione had lost count. They gathered at the funeral home and then had Apparated to Godric's Hollow to finish the ceremony.

The tiny village had not seen so many people in years and after the groups began to break off and head in different directions, Hermione stood at the grave site, staring down at Harry's small, ornately carved headstone. She waited, hoping for a moment alone with her best friend.

"Harry."

Nothing answered her but the drip, drip, drip of rain from the leaves in the trees above her head. Quickly, Hermione cast an imperturbable charm on her clothing and then pulled her coat closer around her body.

"Harry, I-"

She closed her eyes against the pain that flooded her suddenly, the complete and utter weight of her loss.

When was the last time she had seen him alive? She recalled the school she had adored fallen around her in ruins and the scent of smoke and fire, choking her. Harry had been there – tired and broken but very much alive. Alive in ways she couldn't claim to now. She had hugged him tightly, feeling his warmth and crying against his dirt and blood covered clothing.

Oh, Harry! I knew – I knew! I knew you had to turn yourself in – I knew!

That was why she had held on for just one more moment, that's why she hadn't wanted to let him go and why she had wept against Ron's neck so brokenly.

"I should have told you I loved you then. I should have said you were the best friend a girl could have."

Her voice was thick with tears and for a moment she held it together but then in the next she was sobbing, tears streaming down her pale cheeks like the rain from the clouds.

"I love you, Harry. And you were so brave! I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry!"

She had fallen to her knees in her grief; her skirt and pantyhose were already soaked and her teeth chattered from the cold even though the charm worked to shield her from the worst of the weather. But those things didn't seem to matter to the lone girl in the graveyard. She knelt by Harry Potter's headstone just like she had stood next to him that Christmas night when they had come to Godric's Hollow in search of Voldemort's Horcruxes.

At least then she hadn't been alone; she had been Harry's strength and she wished now more than anything that he could be hers.

But he was gone. And she was-

"Hermione?"

The brunette gasped on her tears and turned to see Ginny standing near the clearing of trees, holding a navy blanket.

"You'll catch your death of a cold," she whispered.

Without hesitating the red-haired girl moved to drape the warm blanket over Hermione's cold shoulders and the two girls held each other for a long time, trying to find comfort in the chasm of loneliness.

Later that afternoon the two girls sat on the stoop of the only pub in the village – a run down establishment that, in spite of its outward appearance, still served drinks and food by a friendly, middle-aged man.

It sat on one end of the square that faced a stone statue. Both girls new that it was magically charmed to reveal James, Lily and Harry Potter if a witch or wizard ventured close enough. Somehow though, neither wanted to see it now.

Hermione wasn't sure she'd ever feel strong enough to do so again.

The sky had finally become less leaden and some light-gray clouds sailed along the horizon. Hermione stared up at them feeling strangely drained of all her emotions.

"Ginny?"

"Hmmm…?"

Ginny's voice was soft; it sounded world-weary. Hermione knew if she turned her friend's face would be ashen, the look in her brown eyes broken and terrified.

She didn't move, however.

"What happens now?"

There was only the sound of the breeze and the nearby rustle of leaves and murmur of voices. Beyond the square Hermione could barely glimpse the ruins of the old Potter house – the house where James and Lily had been killed.

She knew it well; she would never forget that place as long as she lived.

Hermione waited for Ginny to answer but she received no reply and turned to see Ginny staring off in the same direction with a listlessness that was almost terrifying. Quickly, the brunette rose and moved to put her arms around the devastated younger girl.

Ginny held Hermione close.

"I can't bear it," she whispered.

Hermione wondered at this. The pain did indeed feel unbearable.

"Maybe we can't think on it yet."

"Maybe."

They watched as people milled to and fro, pausing at the memorial statue and moving from one side of the square to the other.

For now the two young women were close as kin. For now their differences did not matter. They did not know what was on the horizon and what division was brewing.

It was better they didn't.

Unbeknownst to them all, Harry Potter's death would usher in a new wizarding order. Not all darkness had died with Lord Voldemort, and darkness, just as disease, would spread.