Prologue: Escape

In the end, it was fear that drove Hermione Granger, the Brightest Witch of her Age, to leave Britain. Fear of being recognized. Fear of being alone. Fear of falling behind, like the Wizarding World had. Fear of the press. Fear of herself.

After the disastrous events of March 2001, Hermione's departure to distant lands was swift and complete.

She'd come home to the flat she shared with Ron one day, to find him in bed with another. A screaming match ensued, things were said that could not be unsaid, and she left.

A bottle of firewhiskey, 23 butterbeers, and a very licentious (and unfortunately photographed) interlude with a random former classmate of theirs later, any relationship they could have in future had been shattered beyond repair.

Hermione fled, escaping public opinion, Weasley rage, and her own fears in early April, 2001. The Weasley family (specifically Molly and Ginny) had proclaimed her persona non grata, barring George (who had his own issues with his family), Percy (who knew Hermione better than Ron knew and knew she hadn't done anything that Ron hadn't done first), and Harry (who would not abandon his best friend). The rest (except for maybe Arthur, who still saw the girl as she had been when they first met) were quite serious about never seeing her again. A series of interviews with Rita Skeeter and the Prophet (most of which were at least exaggerated if not false) and a number of published photographs led to public opinion going against Hermione, and her career aspirations in the Ministry going down the toilet.

So she escaped. Escaped a life that had been nothing but drama and excitement, highs and lows (which seemed quite the normal in the wizarding world).

She liquidated her not inconsiderable ownings; a flat, a number of awards and such that she'd gotten from their destruction of Voldemort, and basically everything she owned except for what she needed to live. Everything, including the entire substance of her Gringotts vault, went into a Swiss account as British pounds sterling; enough to live on for some time, thanks to her friends at Gringotts that she'd cultivated during her job. She had been sad to leave them behind when she left, but they were most understanding, and had promised friendship forevermore, even helping book her flight.

She departed via a 9:30 flight from Heathrow, into JFK International Airport. An interesting confrontation with the Customs and Immigration people notwithstanding, her entry into the United States was mostly average. She'd hidden her magical possessions inside a very well concealed pocket (hidden via glamours and Undetectable Extension Charm), so all she had in her suitcase was blatantly "muggle." Her passport and immigration papers had been processed quite normally, which had occasioned trips into London earlier that month, to the US consulate.

She sought out information about the educational system here; she learned she'd need a GED, thanks to her Hogwarts education not transferring at all. Fortunately, she was a prodigious reader and an expert studier and managed to pass her GED within a month. Following that had been a battery of college testing, and applications to universities around the country. She spent a total of 3 and a half months in New York, in a tiny rented flat in the Bronx, studying her ass off and applying to Universities.

Acceptances came from all over, but the best she'd received seemed to be in Illinois, the University of Chicago in Hyde Park. She moved in late August, just in time for the new student orientation at U of C. She found a cheapish student apartment in Hyde Park, and although she left her more public room the normal size, she subtly enchanted the bedroom to a larger size with the Undetectable Extension Charm, and using tiny carved runes in the baseboards, made it adjustable.

Her experience in September, with the freshman orientation at UofC, was unlike anything she'd had before. Hogwarts certainly didn't have this; tours of campus (although the UofC campus was among large office buildings, not a medieval castle in Scotland with crazy moving staircases, which made the situation even more strange), several "meet market" exercises where students were encouraged to interact in team-building exercises, and just...it was different. The only mar on the experience had been the week following the terrorist attack in New York; she'd been shaken to know that she would have been close enough to World Trade Center on some days, to possibly have become a casualty.

Hermione had always had trouble making friends, and this was no different. She knew now, though, that she'd have to go out and force herself to do so; during her first month at UofC she made connections with the "Library Gang" as they became known; a group of especially studious people who found themselves at the Library more often than not, and built friendships among each other. They were from different majors; History, Psych, Philosophy, Sciences (specifically Physics), Mathematics, and Poli Sci. Alana, Sally, Michael, James, and Caryna became Hermione's friends and accomplices. None were magical, and all could tell that something was slightly different about their bushy-haired friend, but none of them really cared; they were all different in their own way, and the States didn't have the ingrained class system that had plagued Hermione in Britain.

She'd briefly met Billy and Georgia, his girlfriend in the library as well; both of them felt different, to her, compared to the normal muggles she dealt with on a daily basis. They felt...feral, to her. Almost like Lupin had. She wondered if the reason was the same.

Hermione found that despite having friends, being in a normal place instead of a magical castle, and even a fairly normal job in a place called Bock Ordered Books (which turned out to have a distinct spiritual and even magical section to it), she found herself getting into trouble.

She went out on weekends with her friend Sally, a frequent club-goer herself; the girl was slightly curvy, with a great bust and wide hips, a shock of pixie-cut raven-colored hair and warm purple eyes. Hermione found herself engrossed in the goth club scene, with her clothes styles subtly changing. The clubbing lifestyle led to a number of failed relationships, mostly built on sex and the club "scene", as well as a string of blurry one-night stands thanks to alcohol. She'd even nearly experienced date rape once, thanks to GHB; her saviour in that instance had been Sally, who noticed the glossy eyes and pliant manner (so unlike her usually level-headed and fiery friend) when she'd gone by with a shifty looking young man. She met Officer Henry Rawlins for the first time; he was the responding officer who arrested the would-be rapist, and had given her some gentle fatherly scolding and advice regarding clubbing and dating, much of which had been ignored.

She'd kept in touch with Harry, George, Percy, and Luna, and a few others from "home" (even, surprise of surprises, Draco Malfoy), but only infrequently; once a month or so, there'd be a round of letters. She'd never taken to the use of computers, thanks to her immersion in the magical world since the age of 1991, and the fact that most electronic devices simply failed on her before long. She'd put up with a ribbon typewriter for schoolwork, an ancient old tube TV, a solid and decidedly non-portable phone, and an old-fashioned tape answering machine. Her friends thought she was "quirky." Her professors praised her for the first- and second-hand sources used in her papers, rather than the Wikipedia copy-paste they'd become accustomed to.

She'd been acquaintances with some of the young people who burned to death in the mansion outside the city; no reason had ever been given for the destruction by fire, nor for the presence of the young people there, except to say that there'd been a party.

During June of the following year, she'd had a front-row seat to the huge storm over Lake Michigan, and the massive city-wide power outages. She'd also seen a few strange things that she couldn't explain, even with 7 years of magical school, that she'd asked her boss about; he'd shaken his head mournfully, not wanting to give her the answer even if he knew it.

In February of 2003, she'd gotten dreadfully ill and mysteriously recovered following a train-switch at Union Station (said illness had spread through most of the traveling population that headed out of O'Hare that day), and read in the news about both the mysterious cult murder that occurred in the O'Hare chapel (which looked magical to her; she had no idea how though) and the news report in the month following her illness, which stated that an old Russian satellite had fallen on a manor in South America, killing all there.

So when her night out at a very loud, very dark, and very spooky goth club in June of 2003 went very weird, somehow, she wasn't surprised.

Not at all.

She was even less surprised to find out that her apparent saviour was also named Harry.

AN: This is an experiment for me; I'm not an expert in psychology, nor am I Jim Butcher or JK Rowling, although I think Butcher would approve of the tortures I inflict on Harry, although I probably have the same grasp for Chicago geography that Jim Butcher has. The POV shift from first to third is unusual for a Dresden fic, but I prefer it. First person is hard.

Unbetaed, so if you see something that is off, let me know. I'm not perfect, much as I wish I could be. Appreciate reviews!