Author's Note: Hello all! So I've been working on this story for a few weeks (it's been really hard because I keep getting stabbed in the face with writer's block). It's getting far too long to just have as a one-shot, so I'm going to separate it into chapters for ease of reading. I am nearly finished with the entire story, but would like to get out the first part as a kick in the pants to finish the story because I know you guys won't let me slither out of it. There may be some sexytimes later on as well as violence, but I will warn you ahead of time so that you won't be blindsided by it.
Chapter 1: A Very Grimmauld Christmas
The three figures flew through the forest on spectral steeds that could only be seen by those who understood death. It was no question that death was no stranger to the man with rounded glasses and black hair tied back from his head or the tall, thin man with the fiery red hair that stood out from his scalp as though he was currently being run through with an electric charge. The third, a woman with dark, flashing eyes and wild snarls of bushy hair, pressed her charge and flew ahead of the other two as though possessed. Upon her face was a look of righteous fury that burned with lethal heat.
There was no question as to the goal of the three as they cut through the night with scarlet Auror's robes whipping out violently behind them.
They would find the evil they sought.
And then they would end it.
Five years later...
A figure appeared on the front step of Grimmauld Place with only the faintest sound of crackling static. She wore midnight blue robes dusted with tiny flakes of snow. It gave her the appearance of being wrapped up in a sky full of stars, though she was, in fact unaware of how similar it looked to the cloudless night sky above her. Her hood was pulled down and a scarf was wrapped tightly under her nose to protect her face from the freezing winter wind. She knocked briskly and the door opened to admit her.
"Hermione, I'm so glad you could come!" Harry appeared, wearing a hand-knitted sweater bearing a large 'H' and a pair of thin-legged jeans. He smiled at her, though the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.
Hermione pulled back her hood, unwrapped her scarf, and stared at him, her eyes such a dark brown that they nearly seemed black in the candlelit hallway. Her hair fell around her face in short, springy twists, but even though she only had a few fine lines in her face to signify that she was merely in her late twenties, each strand was a perfectly even silver, as though they'd been spun individually and affixed to her head. In a stark contrast to the lively appearance of her hair, her expression was neutral and almost cold.
"Thank you for inviting me," Hermione said, her voice emotionless.
"It's been awhile. I wasn't sure if you'd be able to make it," Harry continued, running his hand through his hair. It was obvious from his body language that he was nervous around her. "Ginny and the kids have been asking about you….even Molly's glad you said you'd come."
Hermione stared at him, not at all fooled by his obvious lie. "I know I remind them...of what they lost…"
Harry shook his head. "C'mon Hermione! Ron would hate that you've become like this, and after he saved you from that nest of manticores!"
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head. "Maybe this wasn't a good idea. I know how they feel. They wish Ron was walking in through those doors, not me. I don't blame them for that. You know what happened after…."
"He died a hero, Hermione," Harry said, touching her shoulder gently. "He died saving you, the one person he loved more than anyone in the world. He died doing what he wanted to do. You didn't have to throw yourself into being a ruthless huntress who exterminates magical creatures just because he isn't with us any longer."
"There's no such thing as a good death. You, out of everyone I know, should understand that. You are right about one thing, though. There's nothing I can do. He's gone, Harry," Hermione said evenly, her face still eerily expressionless. "All I can do is ensure that no one else has to endure what I did."
They reached the door to the dining room and Hermione lagged behind Harry, though she said nothing else.
"Come on. It's just one evening. Then you can go back to killing all the nasty beasties in Britain," Harry said affably, and Hermione simply nodded, following him as he pushed open the doors.
Inside, there was a lively sort of chaos that only the Weasley family could produce. Hermione looked around with a steady gaze, her expression flickering slightly as she saw the toddler running around in footie pajamas and the infant on Ginny's lap.
"Come on in, Hermione!" came Molly's cheerful voice from the head of the table as she stood and blustered over in a ruffle of robes, "We've set a place for you here, dear."
Hermione took a few steps, being careful not to touch anyone or anything. She stood stiffly and quietly as she waited for Molly to show her to her spot.
"You look...good," Molly said, her eyes lingering on Hermione's hair for a moment too long. Even though Molly's hair was streaked with gray, it was still largely fiery red, just like her children's hair. Hermione was aware that the silver in her hair, a reminder of just how close the manticore's poison had brought her to an untimely death, was also a reminder of how Ron hadn't made it.
"Thanks," Hermione said, averting her eyes and taking a seat at the marked spot, which was across from Ginny.
"Well, I'll let you two catch up," Molly said, a strained smile on her face, "I have to check the spinach puffs."
"Thank you for the invitation," Hermione reiterated, her gaze moving to the infant in Ginny's lap.
"Hey," Ginny said, making a face at the baby, who giggled. "Have you met little Albie?"
"I thought Harry said his name was Albus...after the headmaster," Hermione replied.
"Well, yeah, but I think we like Albie better, don't we? We don't speak of your middle name, either. It's not like you at all, is it?" Ginny said in a singsong voice as she snuggled the giggling baby and tickled his chubby cheek. "James Sirius Potter! Don't play with Uncle George's Exploding Snap deck!"
The toddler turned around and gave her a look that was all defiance.
Ginny arched her eyebrow and pulled out her wand. Instantly, James was lifted into the air and placed against the wall with a Sticking Charm. Rather than seeming upset about it, the little boy clapped and kicked his feet with excitement.
"Little bugger thinks it's a game," Ginny said. "That's the third time tonight, if you'll believe it."
"Ah," Hermione said, twisting the striped Wizard Cracker that had been in front of her on the table in one hand.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I've been going on all about myself. How's the monster extermination business? Harry says it's rather glamorous," Ginny said with a knowing smirk. "I can't wait to get back to the Harpies after Albie is six months. Your mum is going stir crazy without any broom practice, yes she is!" Ginny cooed at Albie, who drooled and bobbed his head.
"Ginny I'm sorry, but...I have to...get some air." Hermione stood and turned, leaving the Wizard Cracker, which was now somewhat worse for wear, on the table.
"Ok, Hermione, I get it. But just so you know, if you're ever looking to dye your hair-" Hermione didn't hear the rest of Ginny's words, as she slammed the library door behind her and stood with her back to the dark wood, breathing in the comforting scent of parchment and old pipe tobacco.
Hermione walked over to the windows and opened one slightly, allowing the cold air to cool her neck as she drew back her collar slightly. She knew her face was as deadpan as ever, but there was something about seeing Ginny with her children only reminded Hermione of everything she would never have. She'd only just found out about her pregnancy when she'd been set upon by manticores and something had broken inside of her when she lost both Ron and their unborn child after the incident. There were still days where she wished she'd followed them when she had the chance, for she knew it was all her fault.
She'd not realized that sudden dizziness was common in the first trimester. Without a doubt, she knew that if she'd only been less stubborn about waiting to notify the office until she'd passed her first trimester, she would never have accidentally fallen through a rotted floorboard into a manticore nest. The poison would not have taken them and cruelly allowed her survival. She would have had a family if not for her selfishness.
And so, she was cold. Emotionless. Nothing touched her. Nothing affected her. She would never love anything or anyone enough to do something stupid again. She studied and she killed dangerous creatures. Sometimes she hoped that the monster would win so she wouldn't have to keep going, but inevitably, she came out of each encounter with a stronger reputation than ever before. She made better money than when she was with the Auror's office, and because she was her own boss, she could choose her own assignments and could work as many hours as she wished.
She worked more often than she did not.
Hermione pulled out a small bag and tapped on it with her wand to enlarge it. She'd bought all manner of gifts for everyone, because she only spent the bare minimum to survive, and she figured she'd do something to make up for all the years she'd begged off or simply pretended to forget that she'd been invited. She had a flat she never really used other than to sleep and store some her clothing when she wasn't on an assignment. There were, of course, a few bookcases full of books, but that was for research. With a final sigh, Hermione closed and latched the window before dragging the bag into the dining room.
"I brought presents," she said, but everyone was talking and laughing and Hermione knew that no one had heard. She moved quietly to the Christmas tree by the fireplace and deposited the nicely wrapped gifts underneath it before turning and slipping back out into the front hallway.
Her black and tan eagle owl, Sebastian, found her moments after she stepped off of the stoop of Grimmauld Place and into the cold, snowy street. She could see that the earlier clouds had temporarily receded, leaving a moonless night sky above her as Sebastian alighted on her left shoulder, his claws digging into the thick, leather padding she had installed in her robes along with Impervious charms that had been woven into the fabric. He was heavy, but she barely seemed to notice his weight as he extended his leg and she pulled the roll of parchment free. With her other hand, she pulled a dried frog from her chest pocket and fed it to her owl, who gulped it down happily.
"You can go home, Sebastian," Hermione said, allowing him to walk down her sleeve. She cast a warming charm on him for good measure and he hooted with pleasure as his feathers grew fluffier than usual.
He looked sideways at her and hooted.
Hermione allowed a tiny hint of a smile to grace her lips. "You be safe as well."
Hermione flung her arm up and gave the owl a springboard to launch into the air. In moments, he was gone. Hermione looked at the coordinates under the nearest streetlamp and nodded.
"This should be keep my mind off of things," she muttered to herself.
With a fizzling crack, Hermione Disapparated just as Harry opened the door to his house and raised his hand to wave her back into the house.
"Oh, Hermione," Harry said, turning reluctantly to go back inside. "Can't you see that I'm worried about you?"