Chapter One
Hermione scratched the scar on the inside of her forearm nervously. A deep, red line was etched into her skin, like her own personal dark mark. Her eyes were closed tightly, trying to repel away the dreams that she knew would come, yearning for once to have a peaceful night of sleep.
It was like this every night. She would scratch her arm anxiously in her sleep before waking up in a cold sweat from nightmares.
This particular night was no different. The scenario was running through her mind. She was in the Forest Of Dean, the snatcher in front of her. She knew deep in her mind that nothing was going to happen to her. She was so careful. He couldn't see her, could he?
Her heart pounded, hear ears rushing with blood.
She didn't come from pure blood lines. They wanted her dead. Out of Hogwarts. Sent to a mental institution in the muggle world. Considered crazy by the muggles and not accepted by those of her own kind.
She felt like she couldn't breathe. Hand were around her neck, cutting off her supply of air.
All of a sudden, she sat up in her bed, gasping for breath.
Her face had smothered itself in her pillow and her necklace was caught on her bushy hair, tugging her neck back.
Untangling it, Hermione took a large breath. She was safe in the burrow, thoroughly protected by spells that Molly Weasley and Arthur had put up in their own superstition.
The war was over, but they were all traumatised.
George hardly ever finished his sentences, obviously used to Fred being the one to finish them. Every time no sound came from the area next to him, or from behind him, he sadly finished his sentence, always sadder at the end of it than at the start.
Ginny had been having a hard time since her first year at Hogwarts, because of the chamber of secrets. She tried to return for her sixth year, but it was hell for her with the Death Eaters running the school.
Harry was a completely different story. Guilt followed around him like a dementor following a criminal. His eyes were hollow, his heart heavier than before.
Arthur and Molly were especially cautious, putting up more barriers than necessary because they didn't want what happened to Fred to repeat to any of their other children.
The clock on the side of her room had the big hand between the 7 and the 8, and the little hand was halfway between the 4 and the 5. 4:37. There was no way she was going back to sleep now.
Her wand was underneath her pillow, in the pillowcase so that no one could take it away from her easily, without waking her up. Her room was already bright, as she was now scared of the dark a little. She was getting better at handling her fears than she was at the end of the war.
A letter slid under her door, addressed
Hermione Jean Granger,
The Burrow,
The door at the end of the corridor on the second floor.
She made her way across the room to pick it up. Only on place was that precise with the addresses. The Hogwarts stamp holding the envelope together confirmed her suspicions.
Carefully opening it, she picked out the letter.
Dear Hermione Granger,
We are pleased to invite to return back to Hogwarts, School for Witchcraft and Wizardry for your final, seventh year.
The staff and newly appointed Headmistress acknowledge that there is a repeat in years, and formally apologise to those effected directly by this change, namely the new first years and the previous years first years, as the selection was not generous in the last year, and for that there is going to be an exceptionally large class of first years, containing the previous year's first years, and the new ones that will be passing through the school.
Hogwarts offers counsellors to those students needing the extra support in the duration of the next year. The school also offers condolences to those who have lost loved ones during the war, however does not wish the students to feel unsafe in their grounds. Fresh, stronger magical barriers have been put up, granting only those who have been invited in entrance.
Please find the enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment.
The Term begins on September 1st. We await your owl of confirmation no later than July 31st.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress.
Hermione sighed deeply. Where else was she to go? Her parents had no recollection of who she was, and Arthur was about to go back to work. She did not see herself being of much use around the Weasley household.
Immediately, Hermione wrote back.
Dear Headmistress McGonagall,
I would be delighted to attend Hogwarts for another year.
Hermione Granger.
Hermione tiptoed her way downstairs, the letter in her hand. She quickly gave it to Errol, and then watching as the bird gradually and gracelessly flew out of sight.
She sat outside in the morning cold, the wood beneath her frozen from the night's loss of the sun. Her legs were tucked up to her chin, her arms wrapped around them. She didn't doubt that someone else would be awake soon, as none of them could really sleep well after the war.
Molly had to take a sleeping potion before bed. George and Ginny slept with the scent of lavender. Ron and Harry, who shared a room, slept with their beds as far away from the door as possible, with their beds closer together than they were before the war.
"Beautiful morning, isn't it?" Hermione ripped out her wand, standing up quickly. It was Arthur.
Mr Weasley took a step back from her, holding up his hands in surrender. He was in his robes, ready for work.
Hermione lowered her wand and apologised. "Sorry, you gave me a bit of a fright."
Arthur shook his head and smiled at her sadly. "I should have announced myself. If Molly wakes up, you tell her that I've gone to work for me, will you? Don't want her to worry about me."
"Sure thing, Mr. Weasley." Hermione smiled back. "Good luck for your day at work."
"Thank you, Hermione." She watched as he left the property, before apparating away to work. A crack filled the air, before he disappeared out of the air.
She watched the dew on the grass melt as the sun rose in front of her.
An hour or so passed, and the sun sat on the horizon nicely, spreading light around the earth. Hermione heard footsteps barrelling down the stairs.
Harry and Ron.
"Where did she go?" Harry seemed distressed. Hermione shut her eyes for a moment.
"I have no idea! If I knew, don't you think I would be there by now?" Ron argued. She could hear them running around, gathering things. She decided to go and ask what the whole hullabaloo was about.
As she stepped foot into the household again, their heads snapped up. Their wands were on the kitchen table, along with a few healing potions.
Relief passed over their faces, as they came forwards to embrace her. Obviously she wasn't the only one having nightmares of her disappearing. She would have been one of the first to be killed by Death Eaters because of her bloodline of muggles.
Ron awkwardly stood to the side as Harry hugged Hermione tightly. "We were so worried! Where were you?"
"Just outside," Hermione replied, rubbing his back gently. "The sunrise if very beautiful."
Harry let her go, before getting out teacups and began to brew tea. Him and Hermione were still used to doing things the Muggle way. It fascinated Arthur Weasley in particular.
They all sat around the end of the dining table, drinking their cups of tea.
"I got a letter from Hogwarts," Hermione broke the silence. "I'm going back there to try and get my last lot of credentials to be able to get a job. Did the two of you also receive letters?"
They nodded, Ron humming in agreement.
"Are you going?" She inquired. She wanted them to come back with her, so she wouldn't be alone, but she knew the likelihood of them wanting to come back after the horrific events that took place there.
Harry shrugged. "I dunno yet. Maybe."
Hermione knew not to get her hopes up.
She finished her cup of tea, right as Errol returned with the morning post. The bird flew right into the closed side of the window before he entered through the open side. Errol dumped the post on the table before flying away around the house.
The Daily Prophet
Will Hogwarts Really Always Be Called Home Anymore For Students?
Story by Rita Skeeter.
Hogwarts, the battleground for the recent wizarding war, has sent out it's acceptance letters for another year. But who will return to the place that many students, passed or alive, called home once? Is it really safe to send our children there?
Many parents have queried with the new Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, asking about the safety of their children, knowing that Hogwarts best didn't do right before. Others have been asking if she is really the best option for Headmistress, and if there-
Hermione stopped reading the junk of a news report, dropping it on the table in front of her.
Ginny was the next to slump down the stairs. Her hair a mess, and her eyes barely cracked open, she let her feet stomp on the steps to where the others were sitting.
"I'm not returning," She whispered to them, sitting next to Harry. "I can't. I've finished, almost, anyways. I can just get Mum to teach me, or you, Hermione."
Hermione understood her reasons for not wanting to return to Hogwarts. They were probably the same as Harry's and Ron's reasons.
Hermione nodded in understanding.
Another owl came through the window- one none of them knew. There was a letter addressed to Hermione perched in its grasp.
It dropped it in front of Hermione, before exiting, smoother than Errol could ever achieve, through the window.
She hastily opened it, not believing a word it said.
Dear Miss Granger,
I am very delighted that you have decided to accept the offer to return to complete your last year of schooling. The teachers and I did a vote, as well as a prior vote amongst the prefects, before the letters of application were sent out, and we have decided that you are the most suitable candidate for Head Girl.
Congratulations on getting the position.
Your duties start on the train to Hogwarts. It includes helping the first years make their ways to the boats, and making sure everyone gets on and off the train suitably, and getting everyone in their robes before disembarking the train.
I look forwards to seeing you again when school begins. It's been much too long.
Sincerely,
Headmistress McGonagall
"Oh my goodness!" Hermione all but screeched. "I got Head Girl."
Harry, Ron and Ginny all looked at her, stunned. "What?" They said in unison.
"I got the position of Head Girl this year! I already wrote back to Hogwarts to say that I would like to go back, and McGonagall just sent me this letter giving me the position of Head Girl!" Hermione babbled happily- the happiest she'd been since the war finished.
"Congratulations!" Ginny cried out, grinning.
"That's amazing!" Harry smiled comfortingly at her.
Ron just looked at her in amazement.
The two of them decided that it was best to not pursue the relationship between the two of them, as it was a bit inappropriate for the time. Ron needed a good friend to be there for him- not a girlfriend.
"Well then I guess we better get going to Diagon Alley then," Molly said from behind Hermione, at the bottom of the stairs, with George trailing behind her. "Have the rest of you decided yet?"
"I'm not going back," Ginny said definitely.
"Neither," Harry nodded in agreement with Ginny.
"I don't think I want to go back. Harry and I already got job offers to become Aurors," Ron said nonchalantly, as though it were no big deal. "Training starts about the same time as school does."
Hermione had almost forgotten about their letters of recognition from the Ministry. All three of them had gotten them, thanking them for their work during the war and offering them positions. Harry and Ron accepted, but Hermione denied it, saying she wanted to do something else with her life.
"Just me then," Hermione said to Molly.
"We'll leave at 11."