Chapter One: Life as she knew it…

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything there of! I wish I did, but sadly…

The train ride home had been murder. Not a single person around her had said a single word during the entire ride. Hermione followed along and said nothing as well. All of the world seemed to have fallen away from beneath their feet. They all knew, that with the recent death of Albus Dumbledore, things had now changed, and it wasn't for the better. The scales had now been tipped in Voldemorts favor, something none of them wanted to think about, but alas the thought didn't seem to want to leave them alone.

So they sat in complete silence. They listened to the voices traveling in from the hall just outside the closed door. They wished that they could get over the loss they had suffered as quickly as the people they were sharing the train ride with. No sooner than the funeral had been over their peers began to act as if nothing had happened, no biggie right.

But watching Harry was the worst thing of all. He had lost his parents, his godfather, and now the greatest wizard he had ever known. Hermione looked at the window trying her hardest not to notice the piercing green eyes across from her. Harry Potter had spent all of his life losing the ones that he loved and now he had lost the one person who had given him a second chance at life. It may not have been all that the old man had planned but it was a chance that had almost, if not for his mother's sacrifice, been stolen from him any three months after his birth.

You could see the war he was fighting with himself through those eyes. Sometimes you would see defeat other's you would see an intensely blind rage that just kept building upon its self, neither of which were good things.

As they all said their good-byes Hermione stole one last look at Harry. She was worried for him, even more so than she was for herself, and wouldn't Voldemort love to get his hands on the little mudblood friend of the great Harry Potter. She quickly looked around, her parent's were no where in sight, and that just wasn't like them at all. She found a bench near by and sat down thinking that it wouldn't be too long. To her dismay she sat there or over an hour. Becoming frustrated Hermione grabbed her things and headed toward the door. Once outside she headed to an ally near by. Looking around to make sure she wasn't seen, she shrunk her things and stuck them in her pocket for safe keeping. Quickly as she could she headed toward the nearest bank. She withdrew a few pounds from her account and went out to catch a taxi home.

Giving her address to the driver she sat back and tried to relax. But her worries wouldn't leave her alone long enough to do so.

' What's going on?' she thought to herself. All of this was so unlike her parent's and she couldn't help but think the worst of thoughts. She sat in the taxi wanting to get home as quickly as was possible, but part of her wanted nothing more than to tell the driver to pull to the side of the road and let her out, petrified of what she could possibly find upon her return home. As the driver turned onto her street her head automatically followed the car's rounding of the corner. Her vision focused on her home instantly looking or any sign of an abnormality. Everything about the house appeared as normal as it had always been, that was until she looked at the sky above it.

There in the sky, visible only a few feet above the roof of what had been her home, was the dark mark. Hermione became frantic. The driver noticed something was amiss when people began to flow out their houses at a steady pace, and toward his destination of all places. While he was stopped, astounded by what he was seeing, Hermione hurriedly jumped out of the vehicle and ran toward the house. Leaving all that was left of her senses behind her.

Upon entering nothing seemed to be out of place. But the feeling in the air was different from any she had ever felt in this house. She felt the death that hung in the air like a lead balloon. It clung to her skin as if trying to suffocate her. Slowly Hermione made her way through her home.

After finding nothing on the main level of the house she stood at the base of the steps that lead up to the second story. She wanted to go up; no she needed to follow those steps, to see with her own eyes what had transpired in what was once her happy home. However the thought of what she was about to find made her hesitant.

Only after hearing the screaming of police sirens did she begin her ascension. No longer slowly taking in what was around her, Hermione ran from room to room. Only after finding nothing did she slow. She stood just outside the door to her parent's room. She could hear the people filing in down stairs. Slowly she turned the doorknob and pushed the door wide open. After her first look into the room time seemed to stop, if only for her.

Her parent's lay sprawled across their bed. Her mother's cloths were torn and the position of her body screamed of what they had don to her. Her father had a deep gash across his stomach, and on the wall, written in his blood, was a message.

" Welcome home little mudblood."

That was all it said, and it was speaking directly to her. It was all they had left for her, and the word had never cut her deeper as it did at that moment, it was as if that single word now had the power to cut her soul into pieces. Suddenly someone grabbed her arms and tried to lead her out of the room.

She was screaming, she knew it, she could feel her screams tear through her throat. Still she couldn't hear herself; she couldn't hear anything at all. Everything around her was moving so slow, like it did in the movies, making the reality of what she was seeing all the more real. She felt another tear in her throat as she let out another gut wrenching scream as two police officers picked her up off the floor to remove her from the room. She could see herself fighting as if she were standing in the corner. She could see herself trying to fight off the officers who were trying to carry her from the room. There was nothing she could do now; she knew that, and knowing only mad the pain and the reality feel even worse. She started to think of a million things she could have, should have, done differently.

She thought of all the things she could have said to help them, and then she thought of all the things she had never said. Had she said she loved them enough? Had she ever told them how much they truly meant to her? Had she ever said enough at all?

As she was carried out of the house the old woman that lived just down the street came running toward the frantic child. When the police set the police finally let her go Hermione's knees gave way and she fell to the ground.

The old woman, Julie was her name, sat down next to her and cradled the girl in her lap. Hermione wasn't even aware of the arms that were now holding her tightly, her only thought was ' Nothing is ever going to be the same! Everything is gone. Oh god, what am I going to do?'

The next few hours went by in a blur. Isn't it strange how just when you want and need things to slow down, they begin to move so fast. Hermione stood out side the police station taking in all that was around her. She began to walk to the park she had seen just down the road.

Once she was in a part of the park that was sure to be deserted she found a bench that was well hidden in the shadows and took a seat. She had no idea where she was suppose to go from here. She couldn't go to the Weasley's, it would put them in too much danger, and Hermione would never be able to live with herself knowing that her presence had been the result of their deaths. Hell she could barely live with herself at the moment. She sat on the bench for well over an hour, maybe even two, trying to figure out a place that they would never come looking for her, when it clicked.

It was a long shot, and she knew it, but it was her only chance at survival. Or it would simply lead to her death, which was already almost inevitable, so why the hell not.

She had an idea of where she was going; now all she needed to know was how she would get there. She really didn't ant to risk apperating because she didn't know exactly where she was going… but it was the only choice she had. If she sat there any longer the risk of being found grew at an alarming rate.

Closing her eyes she struggled to clear her mind. After clearing it out as best she could she thought hard of where she wanted to go.

Suddenly she felt herself being squeezed in on all sides, as if she were being pushed through a small tube, and then as quickly as the feeling had come, it was gone.

Hermione opened her eyes to see if it had worked, and then thanked the gods that it had, well at least it looked that way. She now stood at the end of a row of home that looked as if they hadn't lived in for quite some time. At the end of the street there was a house that looked wildly out of place. Although it had the appearance of the other house's, the light the could be seen from a window where the curtain had not been properly drawn, gave away the fact that it, unlike the other's, was occupied.

Praying that she had ended up at the right place Hermione began the long walk forward. Not knowing weather she was going toward her salvation, or if she was taking a long walk only to be face to face with death it's self.

Quietly she knocked on the surprisingly hansom door.