Chapter One: The Wound is Made

Disclaimer: I no own, you no sue. We all kapish.

A/N: OOH! It's Kalai's first fanfiction in like eons! The last actual "good one" was Kyo's Birthday (Fruits Basket, by the author Drifter2). Alas, that should be continued soon. Forthward! Hope ya enjoy!

Serious mode…

Hermione Granger had no idea. Not one. And for a witch as smart as herself, that was something. Spotting a large brown bookbag, she left the muggle train. That poor girl had no idea.

She'd given her trunk to Ron and Ginny Weasley before she left – she'd be staying such a short time that there was really no need for clothes. She felt rather cold – and a smite bit afraid – but these feelings had been natural to her for a month. After all, the greatest wizard she had ever known had died. Well, greatest except perhaps one. But who knew what Harry would become? He was only just about to turn 17. Nevertheless, to her, Harry would always be a great wizard.

The taxi stopped and Hermione was jerked back to reality. She paid the driver and stepped out. The taxi drove off. Before her was the quite isolated Granger Manor. It was on a hill, surrounded by trees. Not another building nor human soul for miles. As she took a step forward, a small owl hurled out of nowhere onto her feet. It eagerly hopped up and down, straining to deliver it's note.

"Hey, Pig," Hermione said, scooping up the owl and unhitching the message. It was from Ginny, at least, the first sentence was. It was followed by an address from Ron.

Dear Hermione,

Mum's quite upset about you lot not going back next year, but I know it's for the best – oh wait, Mum'n I are going to Diagon Alley, we'll be back by nightfall – Ron wants the pen anyway. Later. (the writing changed) She finally gave it to me! That girl, I swear, don't know how Harry dealt with her. Anyway, just thought I'd tell you not to go anywhere on your own if you can help it, you know. I mean, it wouldn't make sense, with all the DE's everywhere. So just, be careful, Hermione, alright? If you're not here by 5:00 I'll get Fred and George to your house right away. That frickin' eyebrow, honestly. I still think you should have apparated there. So… be careful, you know.

-Ron (and Gin, I suppose)

Hermione grinned. Ron had been telling her to be careful every other word for two weeks, as soon as he found out she was going home. It would be annoying, but to Hermione, it made her feel a little bit more safe. She scribbled a return.

I know, Ron, I am being careful. Honestly, can you say it enough? See you at 5:00, no later.

-Hermione

PS Don't worry, you and Harry'll pass tomorrow.

She strapped the note to Pig and sent him off. Then she walked towards her house. As always, the door was unlocked, she'd have to warn them about that. She dropped her handbag on the entryway table and was about to shout "I'm here" when she reached the living room, dark as there were no lights on. But it was not so dark that she couldn't see…

"Nh…" she cried. At her feet were her mother and father. She did not need to look down twice to know they were dead – nor how they had died. Her little sister stood in front of her, her face as white as a sheet, petrified.

"Hermione, hel-"

"Avada Kedevra."

A/N: I'm just too lazy to look it up right now, don't flame me please!

Hermione's wand was out, her incantation on the tip of her tongue, but even she knew it was too late. Her sister dropped dead, and instead of shouting her hex, she screamed. Not only at her dead family, or at fear, but at the person standing before her, whom she, moments before, would have trusted with her life.

"Hello, Hermione," said the male before her. "You look so shocked. I think I'll take advantage of that."

There was nothing he said, but Hermione felt her left arm slit open and ducked behind the wall on the opposite side of the living room. This was not a battle she was ready to win – nor to fight. Hearing laughter behind her, she concentrated on the one place she wanted desperately to be, and the one person she longed to be safe.

"I'll let you go for now, Hermione. But we'll meet again soon. I promise you that."

Hermione scarcely heard him as she apparated. Apparated away from her house, away from her dead family… away from Percy Weasley.

A/N: Please review, even if you didn't like it. Flame me all you want! I know I'm a bit rusty on this stuff… sorry. Oh, and please vote…

Choice 1: There is another Potter.

Choice 2: No other Potter.