Chapter One: A Genesis

The world had once seemed so large, so expansive and wide, with walls so dark and distant. So many untold stories and unexplored corners it bared. And in the eyes of one Miss Hermione Granger, this made the world a horrifying place. Each indefinable creature outside her windows was just another reason to stay locked within. She did not wish to play outside with the other children. Instead she would cling to her mother's side as they went about their daily routine, humming along to the songs she would sing and listening to her stories of youth. Hermione loved those days, when the sun would stream in through the open windows only to catch on the glass-framed photos and the little flower boxes would bloom in such tantalizing arrays of color.

But as time passed things began to change, the world began to change. It didn't appear nearly as expansive or as horrifying as it once had. Hermione could feel it shrink with every book her mother read her, with every word she took in. She now knew the power knowledge gave and she was not willing to let it exceed her grasp. As much as she missed those days in the kitchen with her mother they assured her that school was where all the smart little girls went. And so, with high hopes and lunch pail in hand, she set off. It wasn't a large school or even a menacing looking one. But some how Hermione still felt scared. She couldn't really put her finger on it, but she was different from the other children. She just couldn't let them know, she just couldn't let them see how terrified she truly was. So instead, Miss Granger put on the most self-satisfied expression she could muster and walked through those doors that first day with a whole new idea of who she was.

The world had kept growing smaller and smaller as more and more time passed. Until, that is, the day an odd noise awoke Hermione from deep within the pages of a book. It had almost sounded like an owl. But that's ridiculous, Hermione had thought to herself, an owl, honestly? In broad daylight, in a suburb like this? She had dismissed the thought as nothing short of preposterous, and had returned to her reading with a soft snort of laughter. It wasn't until her mother had return, several hours later, that the true peculiarity of the subject began to unfold. "Did the postman come?" she called as she looked down at the elegant envelope lying face down on the welcome mat, her arms still heavily weighted with a week's worth of groceries . Mr. Granger, who had been sitting in his favorite chair in the family's recently refurbished den re-reading yesterday's paper, replied "No, dear it's Sunday, remember?" "Ah, yes" came Mrs. Granger's confused reply. "Why, what is it?" asked Mr. Granger, getting up from his chair and heading towards his wife's voice. In a few minutes time Hermione had been called down from her room to look at the odd bit of parchment which, unbeknownst to all three, held the very key to her future.

For without that bit of parchment Hermione would have never found herself on the Hogwarts express, she would have never met two strange little boys who would grow closer to her than any others, and she would have never learned of the magic that dwelled in her. Hermione owed that letter quite a lot. In the passed seven years it had opened countless doors while closing hundreds of others. When it first arrived it acted like a drawstring to a set of curtains she didn't know existed, illuminating a whole new world inside her own. Hermione could hardly remember what it felt like to be normal, in any way. She wasn't an ordinary girl. No, she was a witch, a talented one at that. From the very moment that this truth had been discovered she had been placed on a path that no one had really understood until it had ended mere hours ago. And it was with that final self-inflicted blow that Hermione's world had felt small once more.

It was for the sheer magnitude of the evening's events that Miss Hermione Granger was up wandering the ancient corridors of the school she loved so dearly as the rest of the castle slept…

The muffled taping of her thread bare trainers hitting the polished marble of the astronomy tower echoed through the halls as she made her way amongst the debris. Her breathe was shallow and burdened, and hung in pockets all around her. She had made this journey a hundred times, or more, though never in quite the same settling. Of course, she had wandered passed these same portraits and through these same turns and narrow passage ways, her feet had marched along this very path, but never had it been in such shambles. Never before had the outside wind been able to gust through with such freedom, never before had the golden framed pictures that marked the walls been so empty, and never before had she herself felt such unease.

The war was over. A simple statement in theory, yet in practice she found it far more difficult. It was all over. The running, the lying, the secrecy, all of it done. The voice buried deep within her subconscious constantly telling her that somewhere eyes were on her, was finally quiet. No more monster to catch. No more evil to collapse. No more responsibilities consuming her life. Their life. It seemed as though ten minutes ago she was just another eleven year old boarding a bright red steam engine, and now here she was, all grown up and watching those close to her suffer. So much joy and yet so much despair. It seemed as though they'd all lost something because of this war, some far more than others.

When the battle had come to an end, when Voldemort's body lay still, relief had filled everyone. Cheering and shouting erupted from every corner. The euphoria was evident. Though it wasn't long before Harry was pulling Ron and her away again. There were yet more explanations and decisions to be made. Harry had spared no time in telling them of Snape's memories, the resurrections stone's actions, and of this visit with Dumbledore in King's Cross Station. Once both Ron and Hermione fully understood the complexities of Lord Voldemort's downfall they had made their way through the ruble to Gryffindor tower. Sleep came easy to all three, they were each more exhausted then they really knew. Though, for Hermione, sleep did not stay. As the hours passed she began to toss and turn, until her eyes no longer hung with weariness but rather stared on completely awake. She could no longer lay, waiting for sleep to find her. No, instead Hermione reached for the sneakers she knew so well and a faded pink jumper. With no direction in mind she slipped passed the two slumbering boys and headed for the halls.

In no time Hermione had found herself in one of the many empty class rooms of the astronomy tower. And there she sat, glazing out a broken window on to the Black Lake as it shimmered in the moon light. Until a small noise awoke her from whatever deep thought she had been consumed in. It was a noise she'd heard hundreds of times, one that in any other light would have been annoying. It brought a smile to Hermione's face even without turning around. She new that sound by heart because it was that very sound that had brought him back. Without that sound Ron would have never found his way back to her. She turned her head from the broken glass to face the door way. And there he stood, his deluminator, empty of light, resting in his palm.

"Hey" he muttered, his eyes not meeting hers.

"Hey" she muttered in response.

"What are you doing up here, Hermione?" he asked in a voice just barely audible.

She stammered, trying to find the words. "Nothing" she said "just thinking"

"Oh" he replied, his eyes tracing every part of the desecrated room but the windowsill upon which she sat. They stood there, for a moment, simply taking in one another's presents. It felt as though so much had changed from that instance, mere hours ago, when she had kissed him. Everything had seemed so different then. They did not know what the night would bring. It was all or nothing and she had chosen all rather than dying with nothing. Ron had always been there, for as long as she could remember. They were a team, she, Harry, and Ron. They'd grown up fighting evil the grownups wouldn't even speak of. And through it all they were best friends, they fought of course, they were only kids after all, but when it came down to it they needed each other. Hermione knew this; it was the only thing that gave her hope when Ron had left them. Somewhere, deep down, she always knew he would return.

"Listen, Hermione" his eyes locked on hers as he made his way through the maze of over turned desks and forgotten text books. "I'm retched at words and even worse at actions but-"

"Ron please, you don't need to" Hermione interrupted.

"But I do, Hermione, I really do" he stared into her eyes with such emotion, Hermione felt as though he was seeing something no one else could.

He finally came to a stop and rested himself next to her on the wind chilled windowsill. His round face so softly dusted with faded freckles suddenly became contorted with stress; his fingers began to twist over each other in an attempt to distract from the tension drifting through the air. He sighed allowing his shoulders to shrug and his eyes to drift away from hers. "I-I-I'm just so sorry" he uttered, in a harsh whisper. Hermione watched as his eyes close. He took one last steading breathe and looked, once more, in to her eyes. "I'm such a prat" Hermione made some noise of disagreement but it was drowned out by Ron's continuing words. "I left you both, all alone in the woods. I'd known what I was getting into since first year but I-I just couldn't -I thought-" He dropped his head into his hands. His voice came through muffed and staggered. "Hermione, I thought you fancied Harry, and I just couldn't stand it. I'm so sorry. I know it's no excuse but please know that I never meant to hurt you."

"Harry?" she said in disbelief. "Harry?" she repeated. "Ronald, you can be so thick at times.

"What?" he asked, his eyes peeking through the cracks in his fingers.

"Can't you see that it's you I've fancied since 4th year, not Harry? Couldn't you see how crazy it drove me when you were with Lavender? Or how worried I've been whenever you've been out of my sight in the past year? Didn't you notice how angry I was with you for leaving? Or how much I sobbed when you left?" Ron stirred and lifted his heads from his sweaty palms. "It's you Ron, it's always been you. Why else would I have kissed you?" asked Hermione

"Well I dunno, I thought maybe in the heat of the battle n' all-" Ron began but was soon cut off by Hermione's lips being pressed furiously upon his own. "I love you, Hermione. I've known that I love you for a while now but I could never work up the nerve to tell you. I really do love you, Hermione and I'm so sorry." He said with increasing speed as he and Hermione separated.

"I love you too, Ron" She said as a soft smile found its way across her face. "That feels good to say"

"I know" replied Ron, gently kissing her forehead.

They sat there for a moment, Hermione lying across Ron's chest, both just now taking in the finality of Tom Riddle's demise. Hermione had nearly drifted off when Ron insisted they go back to bed. The young couple walked hand in hand back along the darkened halls and as they did the halls didn't seem quite as desecrated or as haunted as they had mere moments ago.