You might think it is strange for me to be writing on something else while I have so many other fics to continue. But rest assured this was written a long time ago (like 3 months ago) and it is because I need more inspiration to finish the other fic's I am posting this. Your reviews are most of the time better than a muse.

I debated if I should post this or not, since it ends the way it does, but I like it this way. Maybe someday there will be a continuation of it, but alas this I cannot promise the way I promise all the others will at some point be finished. 12 days is close to having another chapter finished, Allure of Darkness has 15 more half written chapters, Opposing forces of Nature is not so good, but I need to be in a certain mood. It's written after watching From Dusk till Dawn, or when I read about Aztec sacrifices, you know, to set the mood... My father the Dark Lord will have a monster chapter posted when I finish polishing it off.

Hope you enjoy another Hermione/Evan. I know, I know, I know! I am trash for Evan Rosier, I don't have any excuses. Honestly, if you saw him the way I picture him you would be just as bad.

Love you all

Xx


The war had torn them all apart. The only thing that seemed to permeate everything was that nobody got out of the war unscathed. Everyone lost someone or something.

Everyone lost a part of themselves.

Hermione had lost that part of her that felt good, her moral compass.

She had killed during the war, in anger, in revenge, and she had loved it. Instead of fulfilling everyone else's opinions about her, she went into the Auror Academy with Harry and Ron.

She and Ron never worked as lovers, but the three of them worked perfectly as warriors, a team that could never be beaten. Unbeatable like Harry's wand.

Outside of work, Harry and Ron needed light, to contrast against their darkness.

Harry, the leader, needed someone that couldn't be led, so he married Luna.

Ron, the strategist, needed someone that could beat him at his own games, and he married Daphne Greengrass.

Hermione, the smart one, she needed an intellectual equal. But there was no one to be found, so she found it in books. She spent time with Luna and Daphne, and they would try and set her up.

Theo Nott had been too caught up the intellectual game and had become tiresome. He never saw the need for anything but intelligence and often lost himself in the theory of Magic. Sometimes he'd be gone for days on end, not eating or sleeping. This affected Hermione, and sometimes she would be just as bad. Together they brought forth the worst part about being intellectuals, how you went down the rabbit's hole of theory and never emerged.

Anthony Goldstein was too caught up in books to notice Hermione, even if she wasn't wearing a thing. "Anthony, I'm not wearing anything but glasses." Seductive purr. "Yes, Hermione." Turn a page. "I would like you to do filthy things to me right here, right now." Sway in her hips as she moved closer. "Yes, Hermione," mumbled this time. "Fuck me, Anthony." Hands on his book, trying to remove it. "I just have a hundred pages left Hermione." Move his book out of reach, and a long sigh from her.

Neville had his head buried in the dirt and couldn't see why Hermione reached for the stars.

Draco was afraid of his own past, of what he had done to her. When she had a nightmare, he would need comfort because he knew why she cried out, he had watched it happen. So when she woke up screaming, she ended up trying to comfort him, when all she wanted was to curl up in a ball and cry. The nightmares became more frequent the longer she stayed with him because she kept it so bottled up.

Blaize, ah Blaize. He was her equal in so many things, but he couldn't settle down at all. He was too young to do that, he needed time to spread his wings.

Hermione had already done that, she was still doing it, but she liked her roots.

There were others of course, but those were her top 5, the ones she thought about in those cold, lonely nights.

At times, she would be pushed into a wild night out, with no one better than Ginny, the International Quidditch star. She would let her hair down, curls cascading against bare shoulders, hips swaying, music drumming through her. She had lost that sweet, little bookworm so long ago, somewhere far away.

Beautiful, deadly, smart.

Those three words were her now. And she was one part of the golden trio, the wizarding world's hope.

A normal day walking down Diagon Alley to get to Flourish and Botts for some new books, she bumped into someone. Her bag opened, papers scattering, books everywhere, and Hermione on her rump, staring up at the stranger that knocked her over.

The sun was behind him so she couldn't gather much, and she tried to shield her face to see him better, for it must be a man.

He stared down at the beautiful creature that looked ready to be eaten, delectable. One foot was bent at the knee, skirt riding up and exposing tanned skin, and muscled, finely defined legs that led up to somewhere he would very much like to see. Breast heaving, pushing against her sweater, barely noticeable behind the rumpled fabric of a thing that was way too big on her. Curled hair, long neck, plump lips and button nose. And those mesmerising brown eyes, that held a magnitude of colours as the sun and shadow played along her face because of her hand shadowing the sun.

He gulped.

"What is wrong with you? Knocking me down and not helping me up?"

"Sorry." He never thought that word had crossed his lips before, and yet it was the first thing he said to her. He held out a hand, and she grasped it.

Using his muscles, his shirt slipped up, revealing a little of the faded tattoo there. Hermione caught it immediately and had his wand the moment she was righted, seconds later he was on his rump, stunned and bound.

To his surprise she didn't scream for help, call out orders or do anything that seemed pertinent in that situation. Instead, she smoothed out her clothes and brushed off the dust that had gathered on her form. Then she waved her wand, and all of her stuff went back into her bag and her hand.

"Now then, who might you be?"

He couldn't answer, but she didn't seem to want an answer from him. She went through files in her hand, wand pointed at him should he be able to move.

She stopped finally, and looked at him, then back at her papers. An eyebrow raised, she asked, "Evan Rosier?" With a flick of her wand, she righted him, still bound and stunned. Leaning close, she studied his features, taking special note of his scars, especially the ones he had gotten after the death certificate had been stamped. She wasn't bothered by the close proximity at all, her body so close it almost tickled against his.

He had a sudden urge to lick his lips.

"You're supposed to be dead."

He finally got through her spell, managing to speak. "I look much more handsome when I'm alive."

"Debateable," she answered and looked at her papers again. She didn't seem bothered that he had gotten through her spell.

"You took out Alastors nose." she said nonchalantly, like it explained exactly why she would have found him a lot more attractive if he wasn't breathing.

"Who?"

"Moody!" she barked and looked up at him, anger sparking in her eyes.

Confused look again.

"Mad eye?" she questioned, irate by his ignorance

"That old coot? How is the damn man?" He smiled like he was remembering an old friend, rather than an enemy.

"Dead."

"Ah."

"I liked Moody." She accused.

"I didn't kill him." Why he bothered to explain that he wasn't sure, usually he liked taking credit for other people's murder.

She rolled her eyes "Voldemort did, I was there."

He cringed at the name and she smirked.

"Little Death Eater afraid of his name?" her voice got husky when she teased.

"No, just him."

"He's dead."

"He's been dead before"

"Not like this."

"How would you know?"

"You don't know who I am?" It was like she was on the verge of laughter, that his ignorance was adorable almost.

"Should I?" He quirked an eyebrow at her, teasing her.

She laughed at him then; she was not conceited, but honestly who didn't know of Hermione Granger?

"Guess I'll never find out." and with that he had managed to use his wandless magic, the one thing that always got him out of trouble, and escaped her bonds. He nicked her wand and ran off. A blasting spell almost hit him as he ran, and when he turned he saw her in hot pursuit, fire blazing in her eyes.

Damn, Granger, pride was always your downfall.

Around a corner and he disapparated, leaving a cursing Hermione behind.

Smart, deadly, handsome.

She might have just met her match.