Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters/situations you recognize. They belong to their rightful owners; I'm only borrowing them. I'm making no money off this and never will.


"Alright, Dear, we're going to have to make this quick… International calls are expensive. Our trip is going well. Sarah and Ian are allowing us to stay until we catch our flight back home. I hope it's an early one. Australia is so far away. I can't believe they cancelled our flight. Anyway, Sweetie, we'll be home soon.

"Again, I'm sorry we didn't let you take us here and back home. You know how I feel about your gift. But I must go now. Your father sends his love. I love you too. We'll be home soon. I promise," Hermione Granger heard her mother say through the speaker.

Dr Matilda Granger had called her daughter at three o'clock in the morning. Apparently has no consideration for time differences. Oh, Mum, she thought.

Matilda and Marcus Granger were in Australia visiting some old friends. It had been two years since the end of the war. Hermione was twenty. She had gone looking for them after the memorial services for the fallen and found them quite easily. Restoring their memories was difficult but it could be managed. Her parents still got "Australia-sick" as they would say and decided that the best cure for this was the go there during the summer.

That morning she had an interview for a position at Hogwarts teaching Charms. Professor Flitwick had decided to retire. Or take a rest from the job. He was still undecided according to Minerva (she insisted Hermione start calling her that). Until he did decide, they would need someone to take the position. It would be considered temporary.

It was a little strange having McGonagall fire-call her during her Muggle-job lunch break but that was how things went when you were connected to the Network. The only people to use it were Harry and Ron.

Hermione had chosen to step away from the Wizarding World. She needed to get her priorities back into order and find out just who "Hermione Granger" was. Since she was eleven, her whole life consisted of Voldemort and his defeat. Now that it was over, Hermione felt out of place. Her mother was pleased with her decision.

Not only did she want to rediscover herself (she was confident when she was ten) but she wanted to leave from all the intruding bustle of the Daily Prophet. They kept sending her owls, demanding answers to questions, trying to divulge the Boy-Who-Lived's secrets, hopes, fears, dreams, and the occasional love life and interests.

Stepping back into Muggle life was hard. Some wizards and witches considered it offensive. If she doubted it before, they made sure she knew. They send letter after letter, Howler after Howler, asking why she would betray Wizarding Britain after all she had done for them.

But it was her life. She could do whatever she pleased. And there was nothing she wanted more than get away from everything.

She didn't plan it as something permanent, just until things quieted down. Then she would "get a job at the Ministry, marry Ron, and have a thousand little Weasleys running around." George said it best. Ron wanted a family. Not just a family, but a F-A-M-I-L-Y.

At this point in her life, Hermione wasn't ready to be thinking about children and Ministry jobs. She wanted to just go on living life as Muggle-y as she could.

But she could never stop using her magic. To do simple things like wash the dishes or difficult things like tame her Gryffindor lion's mane of hair. She protected her small house with wards and silencing charms and made it just a tad bit bigger on the inside than it was on the outside.

She had a room specifically for the practice of spells and charms. There would be neither vase breaking nor cushion ripping in her house. If anyone had said three years ago that Hermione was good at spells and charms, they would faint if they saw what she could do now.

And that's probably why McGonagall fire-called her asking for her immediate help. September first was just a few days away. Hermione would still have to make plans. She would be provided chambers, the textbooks she would need, and Flitwick's old lesson plans, that way she knew where the students were.

Hermione had agreed to an interview, which she knew would be agreeing for the job. She sent in her Muggle resignation and started packing her trunk.

Seeing as how she was already awake, though she missed her mother's call, she decided to continue packing and then get prepared for her interview.

Hermione wouldn't have admitted it but she was nervous. Truly nervous for this job. She had never thought she would ever teach. Granted, she pretended she was a teacher when she was little and when she got older, she gave it some thought. Where could a young witch find a teaching job? Especially when the youngest teacher at Hogwarts was old enough to be her father?

She would never admit to being frightened. She would not show it in her interview. Hogwarts was her second home. And now she was going to live there again. Doing what Hermione Granger does best.


AN: This won't be a very long story, just a little plot bunny without a happy ending. I decided to split it by chapters instead of the "oooOooo" which sometimes can't be avoided, but can this time. I hope it doesn't annoy you; I'm sorry if it does. Feel free to tell me.

If you liked it, or disliked it, and want to review, go ahead. Constructive critism is welcome; after all, how can I get better without it?

I want to thank my best-friend beta (more like "alpha") reader. Any mistakes you see here will most likely be my own... a lost in translation type of thing. She also came up with the title.

Thanks for reading!