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June 1, 2006 Charlotte, NC

"It's so bloody hot," Hermione said quietly to herself. She didn't usually swear, but she felt it appropriate under these conditions.

"This is nothing honey," said the young witch sitting next to her, having heard Hermione's statement. "You just wait 'til July hits". Hermione blushed at having been overheard.

For the local wizards, the temperatures of early summer seemed quite comfortable. For Hermione Granger, however, it was as if she was stranded in the desert. She would have given her arm to be buried under three feet of snow. Anything to get out of the unbearable heat.

She was in North Carolina for an important conference of the Wizards for the Integration of the Southeast. Hermione's job, as a senior member of the new office of the International Development and Expansion of Magical Schools, to aide in the development of schools in areas in which there was no accommodation for the growing number of magical families. It was also her duty to report to her head of department, all the progress thus far.

Hermione was a very plain, but pretty woman. While she still looked similar to the way she did as a teenager. She took less care of her appearance when she was younger, but felt that now that she was older she should be more mindful of it. Instead of a head full of brown fizz, she now had sleek loose curls, which were now rolled into a bun in the back of her head.

If she were anyone else, she would have found a week of discussing international transportation and immigration laws. However, since she was Hermione Granger, she found it quite exciting. She couldn't think of anything better than adding new schools to the magical community. After all, her seven years at Hogwarts were the best years of her life. Unfortunately, they were also some of the worst.

After the war, everyone she knew was emotionally drained. They were finally free of the monster that haunted their community for decades. In lieu of auror training as she originally planned, (She had done enough dark wizard hunting to last a lifetime); she decided to join the Department of International Magical Cooperation.

Unfortunately, her job required a lot of travel. She kept in touch with her friends Harry and Ron for a while, but eventually lost contact. Hermione hadn't seen or spoken to her best friends for over five years. She missed them terribly and thought of them constantly, but figured that since they'd moved on, she should too.

The plans for the new wizarding school were coming along smoothly. Hermione thought that if things continued this way, they would have the school planned by the end of the week. She could then return home for a much needed and well-deserved break. At that moment, she and the other witches and wizards involved in the conference were deciding the perfect location for the school.

"We propose to have the school located close to a wizarding community. Preferably one located in a mountainous area, which would make it easily unplottable and unseen by muggles," said an elderly wizard with a thick southern accent His comment was met with a downpour of criticism.

The day wore on with more suggestions and debates of where the school would be located. The meeting did not end with a decision, making Hermione worry that her stay in North Carolina would be longer than she wanted.

By the end of the day, Hermione was exhausted and decided to visit a local Muggle restaurant for dinner. First, she went back to the room she was staying in at the Centaur Heel to change into her muggle clothes.

Dinner was a relaxing escape for Hermione. She was sitting at her table enjoying her coffee when the waitress came over with her check.

"Darlin I think you have an admirer," she said

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked

"Well honey, I was just noticing that young gentleman at the booth in the corner has been checkin' you out all night."

"Really?" Hermione asked, her eyes darting around the room.

"He's English too. I reckon you two know each other"

"Just because he's English doesn't mean I --- ", but she didn't finish.

She saw him. The hair. The face. It was undeniable. He was the last person she expected to see.

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12 Grimmauld Place

Harry Potter was running late. He had a date in less than an hour and was only just returning home from work as an auror in the Ministry of Magic. He threw off his clothes and jumped in the shower.

It had been eight years since the war against Lord Voldemort. Harry still had dreams about the day he uttered those fateful words that put an end to the terror that had gripped the magical community. --- Avada Kedavra.

Killing Voldemort had been the hardest thing he'd ever done, but he had never meant two words more in his life. Some of the most important people in his life, his parents, godfather, and mentor were taken from him. Soon as he said those words, it was as if a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Many thought that Harry was mad for still wanting to be an auror after defeating the darkest wizard of all time. Nevertheless, Harry knew that it was his responsibility to take down as many as he could who threaten the wizarding world. Harry loved his job. After completing his Auror training, Harry quickly became one of the most successful young Aurors the Ministry had ever seen. He had recently led the team that captured a group of young wizards calling themselves The Second Coming.

He was a little hurt when Ron and Hermione chose not to be Aurors along with him, but could understand their reasoning. Hermione had chosen to go into the Department of International Magical Cooperation "to make a difference", while Ron decided to go traveling the world to find himself.

Harry was grateful that his roommate was out, because he rushed naked from the bathroom into his bedroom. He got dressed hurriedly and just as he was about to leave, he remembered that he'd bought a brand new cloak for the occasion. He went to the closet to grab it and was surprised to find that it was not there. He was extremely late at this point, but searched for it anyway. It was after ransacking his bedroom that he'd realized what had happened to it. His bloody, good for nothing roommate.

Ever since they'd met, he'd done nothing but complain to Harry about wearing things that had once belonged to someone else. Now that they were living together, Harry could barely keep anything to himself, as it was always being borrowed.

He just had to settle for a different cloak. Harry knew that whether his date with Ginny went well or not, it was pretty clear how he was going to end his night. He was going to kill Ron Weasley.

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Drake Malcolm almost laughed at the look of horror on her face. He'd sensed a familiar presence when she walked into the restaurant but had not recognized her. It was the hair. It was much bushier back when he knew her.

He should have known she'd react that way when she saw him. He'd given her enough hell during their school years to know that her feelings for him surpassed hate. However, things had changed since his years at Hogwarts. After Dumbledore's death, he was caught and sent to Azkaban, where he began to wonder if being a death eater was what he really wanted. He had always done what his parents wanted, even if it meant being hurtful to others, especially muggle-borns. His feelings of dislike toward Potter and Weasley were genuine, but he'd never really hated Granger. He owed her an explanation. He left money on the table to cover his check. Drake couldn't help but notice her stiffen as he approached her.

"It's you, isn't it Granger?" He asked. She sniffed and turned away.

"Look, I'm sure I'm the last person you expected to see, even wanted to see." She rolled her eyes, which he took as a sign of agreement.

"I'm' not the same person Granger. If you'd at least give me a chance to---," she cut him off.

"A chance to what Malfoy? Explain? Apologize?" He nodded.

"Exactly how thick do I look? I've got nothing to say to you, and could care less about what you've got to say to me Malfoy."

"Actually it's Malcolm."

"What?"

"Malcolm. Drake Malcolm"

"Oh, I see," said Hermione. "Move to a new country and change your name. I suspect you're here to terrorize the muggles. How many have you killed since you've been here? Or have you lost count?"

"You don't understand. After the war, after Azkaban, I decided to leave the wizarding world. I decided to change my name so I could---," she cut him off again.

"Live as a muggle?" She said with a laugh. "Draco Malfoy living as a muggle. And I'm sure by doing this, you think you've redeemed yourself somehow?" he lowered his head.

"Do you think learning how to use a telephone is going to repair all the damage you and all of those horrible people caused? Do you think that because you have to work for a living, you'll somehow repay all those families who lost loved ones?"

"I lost my parents too."

"Your parents were evil people."

"I know that. I spent years being the way I was because I knew no other way. It took Dumbledore dying to for me to realize that I'd been on the wrong side all along. You have to understand me. I'm not who I was all those years ago."

"Well, Drake, you have to understand me." Hermione responded, standing. "You can't expect me to be able to forgive and forget that easily. How do I know that you're not using this as a way to hurt me or to hurt others? The sorting hat put you in Slytherin for a reason."

"All I can give you is my word Granger."

"Your word means absolutely nothing to me!" At that she slammed her money on the table and stormed out. Drake was left at the table alone, all eyes on him.

"Dude," said the man at the next table, "What'd you do to piss her off?"

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Ron knew that Harry was going to kill him. He saw that nice new cloak in Harry's closet and couldn't help himself. He liked new things, after years of wearing things secondhand, he wouldn't settle for anything less. He'd completely forgotten about Harry's date with Ginny until after he'd made it to Leaky Cauldron. Ron would have apparated and given it back to him, but he had already gotten a stain on it.

"Cheers!" said Ron in unison with three of his older brothers, Bill, Fred and George. They decided to meet that night at the Leaky Cauldron as they each had a reason to celebrate.

"So what do you think you'll have this time? A boy a girl?" Ron asked Bill. He and Fleur were expecting their third child.

"I'm still hoping for a son," Bill answered. "I have the two most wonderful daughters in the world, but what man wouldn't want a son?"

"Well, here's to having a son." Shouted Fred. He and his brothers each raised their glasses and took a drink.

"Yeah, and here's to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes finally going global!" said Ron.

" And here's to Ron," said Bill, " Brand new Senior Undersecretary to the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

Ron was thrilled at how his career was going. He'd returned to England the previous year, after several years traveling the globe. As much as he enjoyed his freedom, he was glad to be back where he belonged.

"So little brother," said George, "Have you any plans to expand the Weasley family soon?" All of the elder Weasley sons were married or in serious relationships. Charlie to a fellow dragon trainer, Percy (with whom they were still at odds), to his long-time girlfriend Penelope Clearwater and Fred and George were dating Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell respectively. Ron who'd started dating Eloise Midgen soon after his return, winced at his brother's question. Unfortunately for him, none of them failed to notice.

"That's a rather sensitive subject," said Ron, "We've only been seeing each other for 6 months."

"Ooh," said Fred, "Is ickle Ronniekins afraid of commitment?" Ron glared at him angrily.

"Seriously Ronnie," said George. "Six months to a bloke may seem like nothing, but to a woman, it's like six years. If you're not ready to commit right now, you should let her know."

"It's not that I'm not ready for a commitment, it's just…I'm…there are problems…I have."

"Oh," said Fred knowingly. "Well I know an excellent healer that can fix you right up."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Ron asked.

"Oh, well I just assumed you meant--," he was interrupted by Bill. "That's not important. What do you mean Ron?"

"Like I was saying," he said casting a confused glance in Fred's direction, "It's not that I'm afraid of commitment. I'm just not…"

"Read to commit to her," Bill finished. Ron nodded in agreement.

A look of realization dawned on Bill's face and he began to smirk. Ron furrowed his brow in confusion.

"I know what, or shall I say, whom this is all about."

"What are you---," Ron tried to speak.

"Don't be daft Ron. You still haven't let go of her. It's been years since you've seen or even heard from her." Ron's ears began to turn red while Fred and George glanced at one another, bewildered.

Bill was right. It had been years. Seven years, eleven months and eighteen days to be exact. He didn't know where she was, or what she was doing, but he knew he hadn't stopped thinking of Hermione Granger since the last time he saw her.