Disclaimer - I obviously do not own any recognizable characters, and will not for the entirety of this story.

This is set well after the end of the war, due to the fact that it is SS/HG, it is not fully compliant to the last two books. Overall - yes. Completely - no. Sorry. Just read, let me know what you think, and we'll be good.

Enjoy!

Prologue

Once upon a time, there lived a young woman in a quiet, little town, in a quiet, little flat, with a quiet, little life. This young woman was not a princess, she was not a Lady, and she was not the daughter of a rich man. She lived quite poorly, actually. Every day, she went to work for a little company that created all sorts of wonderful concoctions in this quiet, little town. Every day, she came home in her rags and cooked the most basic of foods. Every night, she read the same story over and over to her daughter. It was a muggle story (you see, a muggle is a person with no magic, like you and me), about a young woman who cooks and cleans every day for her evil step-mother, and one day she meets a handsome prince who saves her. The young woman never believed she would meet her handsome prince, she believed that this was her life with her daughter – and she was happy about it…right? Well, this is the story of the young woman who unexpectedly finds her happily-ever-after.

Chapter 1

Hermione sighed. For the third week in a row she was working overtime – unpaid overtime. However if she didn't get caught up on her potions, she would be fired and then the problems would really begin. Her boss – Mr. Radhuber – was a mean old man who overworked his underpaid workers. She was a basic brewer, not able to create anything for Radhuber's Remedies, and she was paid less than almost every other worker there. She also had the highest workload. She had to produce a minimum of twelve burn salves, twelve pepper-up potions, twenty itch creams, and five skele-gros a week. On top of that, she was often given additional potions to brew when the company got behind on orders. Her working conditions were horrible, but she had no choice. Being a single, muggle-born mother with a fatherless daughter canceled out almost every job opportunity she had. Heck, the only reason she had the job she did was because she was willing to work cheap – and Mr. Radhuber was nothing if not cheap.

"Bloody hell it's already seven. Mrs. Ruff is going to want extra pay for watching Cheyenne extra today," Hermione groaned. Mrs. Ruff – her neighbor – was no different from Mr. Radhuber – mean and cheap. Every excuse that Mrs. Ruff could get for having Hermione pay more she would – or threaten to not watch her anymore. Merlin forbid if that happened, she wouldn't be able to work anymore and Cheyenne and her would be on the streets. Hermione apparated outside her building in the seedy section of a small town on the outskirts of London, a wizarding section, but a dump none-the-less. She rushed upstairs and successfully avoided her land-lord. Rent was due, and she didn't have it yet. Entering her flat, Hermione saw Cheyenne crying on the couch and Mrs. Ruff tapping her foot.

"That will be an extra sickle – two hours late! I've told you I have better things to do than watch your bastard of a daughter for you. You're lucky I didn't leave the little rat at five on the dot."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Ruff! I was held over at work. Here – a sickle and a knut for your patience." Mrs. Ruff snatched the money and walked out. If Hermione hadn't offered that extra knut, Mrs. Ruff might not show up tomorrow and Hermione would have to miss work. Shutting and locking the door, Hermione looked towards her beautiful daughter still sniffling on the couch.

"What's the matter, darling?"

"Mrs. Ruff said that I was a bad little girl because I was still hungry after dinner, she gave me three crackers and I was still hungry, mummy! I'm sorry I was a bad girl." Hermione sighed, typical. Mrs. Ruff always barely took care of Cheyenne, and she hated the little girl because of the lack of father. She had to find a better life for her and her daughter. Hermione brushed the tears off Cheyenne's face and pushed her long, curly black hair behind her ears.

"Darling, I've told you Mrs. Ruff is a mean old woman and to not listen when she says mean things to you. Here, let's get you something to eat. What would you like?"

"Ice cream!" Hermione laughed. They hadn't had ice cream in months, and Cheyenne knew it. She often said something they didn't have so she didn't have to decide.

"How about some rice, yeah? With butter?" Cheyenne nodded. Hermione prayed they had enough for two; otherwise she would go hungry again. While Cheyenne was thin for a six-year-old, Hermione was dangerously thin, but she never let Cheyenne go hungry over herself. Over the years, it was getting tighter to get food and sometimes she had to stop at a muggle homeless shelter to get something to eat for herself. As Hermione boiled the water, an owl tapped on the window. It wasn't her boss's owl, or Mrs. Ruff's, or even her landlord's owl. She let it in; a large gray owl flew in and perched on the counter holding its leg out. Unrolling the letter, she read:

Dear Miss Granger,

You have been cordially invited

to attend the wedding of Mister Harry J. Potter and Miss Virginia Weasley

on 23 April at the Burrow, 6:00 PM, reception to follow.

Enclosed is an RSVP slip to be returned with Dori (the owl).

Sincerely,

Mr. and Mrs. Arthur and Molly Weasley

PS – Hermione, I know we haven't seen each other since the final battle,

but you were my close friend in school and I would like you to be there. You can bring a guest if you like. I hope to see you.

Harry

Hermione looked and sure enough, there was an RSVP slip. She had left immediately after the final battle. Well, more like she ran away after the battle. That morning she found out she was pregnant and she ran without a word to anyone. For months letters had come begging her to return but she had never replied. Now, nearly seven years later, she missed them. Terribly. Looking at her daughter eating the little bowl of rice, she made her decision. Circling "Attending, with one guest" she returned the slip with the owl before fear could grip her. Surely, she would not run into Cheyenne's father at the Burrow. At least she knew Cheyenne and herself could eat a decent meal for the first time in months.

Later, after Cheyenne had been put to bed and she herself was in bed on the other side of the little room, she thought about what she would say when she showed up with a daughter. A thousand and one scenarios went through her head, and in the end she decided to just let it be. She would deal with it when she got there.

The wedding was today and already Hermione was regretting her decision. She could just not show up, but that would make going back even harder. Plus the promise of food was too good to pass up. Paying Mrs. Ruff that extra sickle and knut meant that now, two weeks later, she had a bare kitchen and Cheyenne was starving – literally. Digging through their closet, she tried desperately to find nice clothes to wear. She knew she was looking for something that wasn't there. Cheyenne had an old, stained, pink frock that would have to do and Hermione's only dress was torn at the bottom. Oh well, so people would know she was poor. It didn't matter anymore anyways, after years of judgment she was well over that fact.

"Darling, come here so mummy can get you ready. We're going to a wedding today, doesn't that sound fun?"

"Yes, mummy, can I bring Goose?" Goose was a small, stuffed, gray cat that Cheyenne had since she was a baby. It was worn beyond words, but it was her greatest comfort. Hermione knew she was nervous meeting new people.

"Of course, darling. Let me get you dressed now, come here!"After wrestling a six-year-old into a dress (which smelled like moth balls) and pulling her smooth, curly black hair into a pony tail, Hermione went to get herself ready. The dress she had, black and plain, did nothing for her. But it was the best she could afford, and it would have to do. Tackling her thick, unruly hair she also wore a simple pony tail. Gathering her tattered purse, she grabbed Cheyenne's hand and apparated them to a hill near the Burrow. It was barely three, but she wanted people to meet her daughter before the ceremony as to not cause a fuss. She was also getting stir crazy at her flat, and if she didn't leave when she did, she never would have left.

As they approached the familiar house, Hermione began to tense. She was about to turn around when a voice called out "Oi! Look! Hermione made it here early!" No turning back now. Hermione trooped forward, nearly dragging a shy Cheyenne along to meet the man in ginger hair who had called her out. People began to rush to him.

"Hello, George. How are you doing?"

"How am I doing? 'Mione we haven't seen you in years, how are YOU doing? And who is this pretty little flower hiding behind your legs?"

"I am well. This is Cheyenne, my daughter. Cheyenne, darling, say hello to George." She only knew it was George due to his sweater.

"Hello, Mr. George," Cheyenne mumbled, hiding her face in her mother's skirt.

"Daughter? Since when do you have a daughter, Hermione? Is she why we haven't seen you in so long?" Just then, a crowd of people arrived around them who had heard that she had arrived. Everyone began questioning her about Cheyenne, and Cheyenne began to cry. Her little cry quieted everyone as Hermione bent down and picked her up.

"Shh, darling, it's okay. Everyone is just excited to meet you! Because you are my little princess, aren't you? And princesses don't cry. Now, sweetheart, tell everyone hello." Cheyenne shook her head in Hermione's shoulder. People chuckled, and George motioned her to follow him down to the house. Around her were Neville, Luna, Lavender, and Charlie. Everyone was trying to coo Cheyenne out of her shell. Hermione knew it wouldn't work, not until she got used to everyone. As they entered the house, Hermione froze. Everyone thought it was because Harry was walking up towards her, but in reality it was because she saw Cheyenne's father and there was no escape now. Hopefully, he would leave them alone.

"Hermione! I missed you so much!" Harry came up for a hug, and Hermione did her best with one arm full. He stopped and looked at the little girl who gazed back at him with deep chocolate eyes still watery from her crying a few minutes earlier. With no direction to Hermione, Harry spoke to her.

"And what is your name, princess?" No response. Hermione nudged her a little, and Harry continued, "Well, what is your cat's name?"

"Goose. He is my friend."

"Well, hello Goose, and could you tell me you little Miss' name?"

"He doesn't talk, silly! My name is Cheyenne."

"What a beautiful name, and how old are you?" At this, Cheyenne finally looked up and Hermione sat her down, her arms aching.

"I'm six and a half. That's almost seven!"

Harry chuckled, "Indeed it is. Now, come. Would you like some chocolate?" Cheyenne's eyes widened – chocolate! She only got chocolate when mummy had an extra knut on her birthday!

"Yes, Please Mister!"

"Call me Harry." And with that Harry led Hermione and her daughter into the kitchen and fetched Cheyenne a large piece of chocolate. Hermione gave no protest, she know how infrequent they got to eat let alone have treats. She let her daughter enjoy today. While Cheyenne ate her chocolate, Harry and Hermione sat at the table and began to talk.

"So I am guessing she is why you left."

"Yes…I had found out the morning of the battle and was scared. Once I had her it was easier to stay away. I'm sorry I never wrote back to you, I tried so many times."

"I understand, what is important is that we have you back. Why are you so thin?"

"Unfortunately, because I am a single, muggle-born mother I don't have many options for work, and what I do have pays next to nothing. I feed Cheyenne before I feed myself."

"You should have written me."

"You know me, stubborn as a mule. It's been the worst this past year since my land lord upped my rent. Now we barely get by. I'm glad you invited me."

"You won't struggle anymore, I'll make sure of it. Now, there is plenty of food in this kitchen. Eat whatever you want, I need to go check on the wedding set-up." Hermione just nodded. It had been a hard few years, with both her and Cheyenne facing scrutiny and discrimination. Never, not once, did someone tell her that they could eat whatever they wanted. The fact that that was a novelty to her struck a cord that hurt. She needed out of this situation.

Just then, the one person she had hoped to avoid joined her in the kitchen.

"After seven years, don't I get even a hello?" Hermione looked at him…shock was evident on her face.

"Hello."

"And, tell me, who is this beautiful little girl?"

"My name is Cheyenne and I am six and a half!" Cheyenne, with her shyness broken by Harry, obviously didn't see the look of horror on her mummy's face that the man who had the power to break Hermione's world up had just entered the room, and fir the first time Cheyenne wasn't afraid.

"Six and a half? My goodness. That's almost seven…years…old. Isn't it, Hermione?" Hermione just looked at him. It was obvious he didn't believe the little girl to be his, rather it looked as if he had just been betrayed.

"Yes, almost seven years. Cheyenne, why don't you bring your chocolate with you and go find Harry. Ask him to tell you about Hogwarts." Cheyenne happily left, for she knew a little about the school she would one day attend but her mummy never spoke about it. She didn't hear the scared tone of her mummy's voice.

"Now. Tell me, Hermione, whose daughter is that? Is it mine? Of course not, you wouldn't have ran. Well, it is Weasley's? No, she doesn't have the hair. Surely it's not Potter's. Perhaps, its someone I don't even know. Tell me, who were you cheating on me with before you fled?" This was turning out horrible. She had to tell him, she promised herself when Cheyenne was born that if her father ever found out, she wouldn't lie about it. Of course, she didn't actually think she would ever run into him, and when she said it all those years ago she had invoked an magical vow. She was feeling the compulsion even now to blurt out the truth, but instead she avoided the question.

"How about you tell me why I saw you in bed with that woman the night before the battle?" A look of understanding crossed his face. That was why she left, and she probably got pregnant right after – silly witch had no clue what she saw.

"I was getting information that led to Harry defeating the Dark Lord. It meant nothing; I am assuming that is why you departed so quickly. Were you so desperate to forget me you had to go and get pregnant right after leaving me?"

"No. I found out I was pregnant – with your child – the morning of the battle." With this Hermione sat down, facing away from him. During their argument she had started pacing, and now that it was out she was dizzy. He just stood there, stunned. He turned, and left the kitchen. After Hermione was sure that he was gone, she got up and looked out the window at her daughter chasing Harry. "I'm sorry that I never told you about her. I won't keep her from you now as long as you don't threaten me. I always loved you, and only you, Severus."

The wedding went as any wedding would, and the entire time Hermione felt the eyes of everyone she had left behind on her daughter. Whispers followed her wherever she went; leering gazes and sounds of shock followed the gossip. No one yet knew who the father was, beside Severus himself. The guesses, however, were quite entertaining. Dean Thomas was one, however that didn't last long. He adamantly denied ever being alone with Hermione let alone conceiving a daughter with her. Another popular one was Harry due to her black hair. Names after names were brought up, but surprisingly, or perhaps not, no one brought up her actual father. Severus seemed to prefer it that way. Hermione did as well. Having to explain the circumstances that led to Cheyenne's conception would be problematic, as neither of them had any desire to admit their former relationship if you could call it that.

Hermione's train of thought came to a screeching halt as Draco Malfoy was brought up as a possibility, and seeing as he was not here to defend himself, it spread like wild fire. People began accusing her of switching sides and that being the reason she left. It took quite a bit of convincing to get out of that one, Cheyenne's hair being a key factor. If he was the father why would her hair darken instead of getting lighter? People these days seemed to have nothing better to do than gossip.

The worst of the glares came from the new Mrs. Potter, as she seemed to feel that Hermione stole her thunder. Any bride would if the topic of discussion was anything but their wedding. Hermione understood and sympathized with Ginny, however she could not stop it, and Ginny seemed to blame her either way.

"So, 'Mione, plan on telling us who the father is?" Ron finally spoke to her, and Hermione was not inclined to answer him until she and Severus had spoken more. Not to mention that Ron had barely said 'hello' when she arrived.

"Why, so you can sort out your bets? I don't think so." Hermione was sure that he held the fact that he wasn't the father against her. Sorry, Ron, but we will never work. Besides, there is someone else. The flashback was disconcerting, she hadn't thought about that for ages.

"You don't have to be so cold to me. Come on, aren't we friends?"

"Friends would say hello to each other when they saw each other for the first time in months, or would have at least tried to write when I first left. You were the only one who didn't write me, did you know that? Bloody hell, Ron, even Krum wrote me and I hadn't spoken to him for years!"

"Well it's not like you were responding anyways! You just upped and left us as soon as Voldemort was killed and didn't even say goodbye!"

"Sorry. I think we are done here," and with that, Hermione walked away to find her daughter. They needed to go home. Go home, and never come back. She found Cheyenne sitting on George's lap, and rushing over she picked Cheyenne up, said 'thank you' to George, and left. Once they were far enough away, they apparated to their flat. Cheyenne was sleepy – Hermione could see it in her eyes. Getting Cheyenne ready for bed, Hermione sent thanks to whatever deity that sent them to food when they did, and put Cheyenne and herself to sleep. That ordeal was over, but little did the young woman know, their little, quiet life would soon be turned upside down.

Author Notes

This is a story in progress, while I do have an idea on where I want to go, I am always open to suggestions. I don't mind critical reviews. Just let me know what you think. I am a busy person, so I will update as I get there. I prefer longer updates, so it may be a while.

Thanks for reading,

Mummy Goose