AN: So I am going to throw this story up here as well and see how well things go. This is a much newer story from the other I posted earlier. I hope everyone enjoys it. Again, go easy on me since I am new at all of this. I can't wait to hear what everyone thinks.

Just a quick reminder: This is a SS/HG fic. Please no flaming. If you don't like the pair, don't read it! :D

Rated M for a REASON!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the Harry Potter universe. Therefore anything you recognize isn't mine.

Chapter One

So It Begins

"But, Mum!"

Hermione looked up from her slightly awkward position crouching by her sons book case. It was late, and Hermione had just finished reading Hugo's favorite story, Tales of the Beedle Bard. She smiled at the young boy. Hugo was bouncing on his heels, his bright, blue eyes alight with excitement. Hermione smiled. His mood now was much better than the dark, sullen one he had had previously that day. His older sister, Rose, was probably just getting finished with the Welcoming feast, freshly sorted and ready to get some rest so that she could begin her classes in the morning. Hugo had been deeply effected by his sisters going to Hogwarts without him. Hermione and Ron had sat him down on more than one occasion to explain that he would get his letter in two years, when his sister would be going in for her third year. Hugo had not been at all pleased, but had finally resigned himself to his fate. He now had realized that he would have his parents all to himself for a while, and that suited the boy just fine.

Ron, who had been leaning in the doorway smiling at his wife and son, let out a throaty laugh. "I never thought that I would see anyone but you so excited to read a book, 'Mione," he grinned.

The corners of Hermione's mouth twitched as she put the book back in it's rightful place on the massive shelf. Not many wizards Hugo's age had such a collection, nor kept so orderly. Hugo had managed, though a spitting image of his father, to inherit his mothers talent of organization, as did his sister. The two siblings had always been neat and tidy, and had always liked things just so. Hermione was relieved at this fact, for if the two had received their fathers knack for creating a mess, she would have been in a sizable amount trouble.

"Oh, hush, Ron," she scolded, not very convincingly. She stood from her crouch, turning toward her son and husband, looking around the pristine room. "I have been reading to you for over an hour, Hugo, it's time for you to go to bed. It's way past your bedtime."

"But, mum-"

"Hugo," Ron warned, his eyebrows lowering. If there was one thing she was thankful for about Ronald, he always had a marvelous do-what-your-mother-says voice.

Hugo did not need telling twice. He knew his father well enough to know that that tone was to be obeyed. Hermione smiled again, going to her sons bed as Hugo scrambled to get under the covers and get comfortable. Ron came up beside the bed as Hermione sat down. She leaned over carefully to kiss the boy on the forehead, tucking his orange mop of hair to the side.

"I love you, baby boy," Hermione murmured, meeting the wide eyes of her son. He had gotten so big, so fast.

"Mum," Hugo groaned, but Hermione could see the small smile of content on his face.

"I love you, my son," Ron said in turn, kissing Hugo's forehead as well, his arm draping lazily over Hermione's shoulders as he did so.

"Night, mum. Night, dad." Hugo whispered. His eyelids already fluttering closed. The excitement on the day had done a number on the small boy.

"I better not catch you up reading again, Hugo," Ron said, barely containing a smile. "You need to sleep once in a while."

"Yes, dad."

"Night, dear," Hermione said, getting up gracefully and following Ron to the door. "Sweet dreams."

Hermione heard her son mutter his acknowledgment as Ron turned out the light and closed the door noiselessly. As though flipping a switch, the calm demeanor of the witch and wizard changed. The appearance of the perfectly united couple had melted away, leaving the air heavy with tension that one might-if they tried hard enough-to see. As though their spines had absorbed this tension, they went ridged. Hermione's eyes went cold and hard, while Ron's held a deep sadness and regret. Hermione, nose in the air, turned her back on her husband without a word. Making her way swiftly down the hall to the next landing and descending the first set of stairs.

The house that they had bought was to big, especially for a family of four. It was so big, in fact, that they could have easily held the entire Weasley clan with no problem at all. It was a beautiful square house, with large windows and whitewash siding. The inside was full of warm colors and cherry wood floors, and a great, curved staircase just as you walked into the home. It was grand, but only just.

Hermione had insisted, even though the couple could have afforded it, on not getting a mansion. She wanted a home for her children, not a palace. If she had known then that they were not going to having more children, she would have chosen a smaller home. Hermione and Ron had planned on having a much bigger family, but things never seemed to go as planned. She worked for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and Ron was an Auror. They didn't have much time for another child due to work, and they most certainly did not have the perfect marriage to support another edition, either.

Hermione sighed, as she turned again to the next set of stairs. She wished things had been so much different in her work life, but she was content. Academia would have been her first choice, but the Wizarding world had looked up to the Golden Trio after Voldemort's demise. So, she had decided to take up law enforcement instead. She had two beautiful children, wonderful friends, and a supportive family. No, Ministry life wasn't her idea of the perfect job, but she was decently happy and intended to make the future of her children as bright as possible, despite their father.

"'Mione," Ron called after her, quickly matching her pace and over taking her with his much longer legs. Grabbing her elbow gently, he turned her to face him, his blue eyes searching hers.

Hermione jerked her arm away from him like his hand was a poisonous spider, whirling around to confront him. Her face had taken a bright, blotchy flush, while her eyes had darkened and teeth had gritted with anger. Combined with her golden curls the witch had taken on the uncanny resemblance of a lioness ready to pounce.

"Don't. Touch. Me."

Ron took a step backward hastily.

Hermione Weasley was terrifying when she was angry.

"'Mione, please, hear me out-" He pleaded with her, his hand falling limply to his side in defeat.

"I am done "hearing you out", Ronald," Hermione spat, advancing on him and jabbing him in the chest with a finger. "You are not coming to bed with me. So if that's what you want, you can forget it. Stop following me."

She turned back, making her way to the stairs and descending them not so quietly, nor gracefully.

Ron had the gift of being able to throw Hermione into a temper, but recently her tempers had been getting much more frequent and volatile. The air around her was already crackling with magic, and Ron had only spoken a few words.

"That's not what I-" he let out a huff and stomped his foot. His interpretation of a four year old was surprisingly accurate. "Look, I'm trying to make things right, 'Mi. What else do I have to prove to you that I will never touch her or any woman ever again?" Ron said, trying his hardest to appease her.

Many wizards would have already chucked this argument to a loss and gone to bed, but not Ron. Whether it was bravery or stupidity that made him follow his wife during arguments no one would ever know. Whatever the reason, he continued to follow the infuriated witch.

Hermione rounded on him again, her brown eyes flaming. "You can't prove anything to me, Ron!" she yelled. "How many women have there been over the years, that I know about? Ten? Twenty? Maybe more? How many times have you lied to me and told me you would never cheat again? I am not going to stand here and make anymore excuses for you. I have been covering for you in respect of your family for years. I'm not taking responsibility for you anymore after what you did. I won't."

"But, Hermione, I came clean. I want to make-"

"You were honest with me about Lavender," she said. Hermione's voice had lowered suddenly, almost warningly. "But there was something else. Wasn't there, Ron?"

"Well, uh," Ron stammered, his ears turning a deep shade of crimson. He knew his world was about to come crashing down around said ears any moment now.

"No. It wasn't just Lavender," Hermione snarled. "Not only did you break my trust again by cheating on me with Lavender, you also tried to go after Luna! What in Merlin's name possessed you to think that Luna would cheat on Neville? Do you honestly think that she and Neville wouldn't come running to me to explain what happened? I want you to know how lovely that conversation was. It was absolutely humiliating!"

"I am so sorry I wasn't upfront with you from the beginning, Hermione," Ron said quietly, hanging his head in shame. "I should have. I just don't know what else you want me to do. I have apologized, I have begged. What can I do to make this right?"

"I want you to sign the divorce papers," Hermione shouted. " I want you to go and leave me and my children alone. I will not let my children endure anymore than you already have."

She choked back a sob, tears springing to her amber eyes, giving them the appearance of whiskey. She wiped a run away tear on the sleeve of her robes.

"I can't even begin to tell you how much I have had to cover for you. How I have had to explain to them why daddy wasn't there when Harry taught them how to fly or when Papa Weasley showed them how a rubber duck worked.

"And you know what's worse? It's hasn't been just the children I have been having to answer to," she cried, the tears running down her cheeks profusely now. "What about Harry and Ginny? Your parents? George and Angelina? Neville and Luna?" She barked out a short, sarcastic laugh. "Though, I am pretty sure that Neville and Luna now have a decent understanding as to why you have been so absent now."

"I won't sign those papers," Ron whispered, his eyes trained on the hem of Hermione's robes. "I want to make this work."

"Well, you have a really funny way of showing it!" Hermione growled, turning back to make her way down the rest of the stairs. She had to make some tea to calm her nerves or she was going to hex her husband from here to London and back. "You will not sleep in my bed. You will not humiliate me and my children!"

"I will not leave my family!" Ron said, his voice finally raised, almost jogging to keep up with her.

Hermione huffed at him, waving a hand to dismiss his statement as one would a bothersome insect. Her patience with the red head trailing her had reached it's end. She had made up her mind. Their marriage was not salvageable. She was not going to make her children suffer through the constant tension between their parents any longer. It was for the best, and no amount of pleading from Ron was going to change that.

They rounded the corner, entering the kitchen. The brightness of the warm yellows and greens contrasted horribly with Hermione's mood. Glaring at the colors as if they had insulted her, she made her way to the sink and began to fill the teapot.

When Hermione did not respond Ron let out an exasperated sigh, crossing his arms over his chest in agitation.

"What are you not going to talk to me now?" he snapped, tapping his foot on the hard wood with an irritating click.

Instead of replying, Hermione closed her eyes, inhaling slowly, trying to calm herself. If she didn't calm her nerves her blood was going to boil.

"You know, Hermione," Ron said, raising his voice in frustration. "I might have made some mistakes and I might not be the best husband or father, but I have been here. Not once have I ever left."

That was the last straw for Hermione Granger Weasley. Whether it was the implication that he had been there for the children more than he had actually been, or that he was suggesting that if she left she was the one destroying everything, she would never know. His words hit her like a bludger to the stomach, knocking every feeling out of her shaking body, but anger.

Hermione whipped around, ripping her wedding band off of her finger. She felt the magic that bound them together spark than rip. Ron's eyes widened in shock. She had enacted the wizarding equivalent to a separation. Something that was almost never done in the wizarding world, let alone a divorce.

"This marriage is OVER!" Hermione roared as she turned again to hurl the ring at Ron.

It was almost instantaneous, but time slowed as Hermione's ring flew through the air. She saw a dark figure in the doorway of the kitchen, a silver mask covering his face, dark, evil magic swirling around him like a cloak. It was then she felt the bone chilling, dark magic seep into her very bones as she realized that the dark wizards wand was pointed directly at Ron's back. Fear tore threw Hermione's veins as she watched a jet of green light come from the tip of the wand. She felt the scream bubble in her throat. She saw Ron's eyes widen in alarm. It was to late, and Hermione's brain knew that before her heart could even register what was happening. The killing curse hit Ron the same time her wedding band did. He was dead before she could react, fear and sadness etched into his eyes forever as his body hit the cold, wood floor.

Hermione fumbled for her wand and looked into the wizard's face as his wand aimed at her. Her skin crawled as she heard the high pitched cackle rip from the dark wizards throat. As her eyes met the tip of the wand her fear drained away, along with the color in her face. She gripped her wand, the familiar feeling of survival tearing at her insides like ravenous wolves.

Hugo.

She could not name the curse that she used as the wizard was blasted back from sheer force. Nor could she say exactly how she managed to get upstairs, or get to Hugo's room unscathed. She only registered briefly that she had nearly been hit by the killing curse twice, and a terrible voice behind her was calling her name.

Hermione flung herself into her son's room, ripping the covers off of him and pulling him from his bed.

"Mum, what-?"

"Hugo," she hissed warningly as she headed back to the door.

"And where are you going, Hermione?"

Her wand followed her eyes as they met the cold, silver mask. The wizard was now towering above her in the doorway, his wand pointed directly at her heart. Hermione's mind was racing, her heart fluttering. She could not Apperate due to the wards. They were cornered. They were dead. There was no way out.

"What do you want?" she yelled, her voice cracking as the fear began to seep back into her body like fire, burning and unforgiving.

"Oh, just your life," the high voice said, mercilessly.

Hermione flinched, pulling Hugo behind her protectively. The dark wizard laughed.

"The boy will go unharmed," he said, his voice like ice. "I will need a witness, will I not?"

"Witness to what?" Hermione spat fiercely.

"Witness that the Dark Lord has returned."

Hermione's eyes widened in terror as the Dark Lord pulled away his mask and she saw his face for the first time in almost twenty years. He had the same red eyes, the same white skin and snake-like nose. The same high-pitched laugh and spidery fingers. Hermione stepped back, gripping her wand fearfully as the Dark Lord laughed. It was impossible. She had helped Harry collect all of the Horcrux's. She had watched him fall as the morning sun had poured into the Great Hall that fateful morning. She had watched him die. There was no possible way that the man before her could be alive, and yet, there he stood in all his infamous glory, a dark humor in his blood red eyes.

"Surprised, little witch?" he asked her, taking a step closer, his wand never faltering. "Do you honestly think that the Boy-Who-Lived would ever truly defeat me?"

Hermione took another step back, pressing Hugo up against the window. She could feel her son shaking in horror and there was nothing she could do. Hermione, the great brain of the Golden Trio, did not have any answers. She couldn't think of any curse or jinxes. She stood there, frozen in front of the most feared dark wizards of all time, unable to do anything. All she could do was blink and remember to breathe.

"Don't hurt my son," she rasped, her voice faltering ever so slightly.

"I'm not after the boy, stupid girl," the Dark Lord hissed. "I want the Golden Trio out of the way, and it ends with you, filthy Mudblood."

"Don't hurt my mum!" Hugo cried, his voice cutting through the room like a knife.

Hermione gripped the small wrist that she had no idea she was holding until that moment. "Hugo," she warned.

The cold laugh stopped her from continuing. "Foolish boy. Your parents obviously have not taught you enough about me." Hermione watched as the Dark Lord's grip tightened around his wand. She knew what was coming. "Avada-!"

The window behind Hermione and Hugo exploded. Shards of glass rained on their heads, but Hermione didn't give a second thought of how or why the glass had shattered so suddenly. She threw herself out the window, pulling Hugo with her. They were falling and Hermione briefly thanked Merlin that she and Ron had bought a three story house. She would have to Apperate. She didn't know if it was possible mid-fall, but she would have to try. Clutching Hugo to her chest she managed to turn in the air as she took a deep breath. The last thing she heard was the Dark Lord shriek in fury.

They Apperated just before they hit the ground. The wind thoroughly knocked out of her as they collided with the earth with a hard thump. She rolled off of Hugo, tears running down his face. Gasping loudly, she struggled to get her footing, dragging Hugo with her as they faced Godric's Hollow.

"Come on, Hugo. Be strong for mummy. We aren't safe yet, ok?" Hermione mumbled to him, wiping his face as they made their way quickly to the front door.

She knew something was wrong before she even got to the door. The door was open and Hermione did not feel the usual tingle of the wards as she past through them. A shiver crawled up Hermione's spine and she pulled Hugo more closely to her. Her wand raised, she pushed the door all the way open, and fought back a scream.

Laying in the foyer was the lifeless body of Ginevra Potter. Her friend lay there eyes were wide, her mouth sagged in shock and fear, as if in mid scream. She was broken, her red hair fanned out beneath her, her body contorted in an unnatural position. Hermione instinctively covered Hugo's eyes and pushed him behind her, fighting the tears that were threatening to spring from her eyes. They weren't safe yet. She had to focus. This was not the time to cry.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Hermione stepped into the deathly quiet house. "Harry?" she called quietly. "Lily?"

Hermione dared to take another step, and the floor creaked beneath her feet. She froze, looking around. She had heard something...

"H-Herm-"

She whirled around. There in the study was Harry. He was crumpled in a heap on the floor, as if he had been slammed backward into the bookcase behind him and slid down it. His blood covered the book case and the floor. His hair was matted in the dark, red liquid, his glasses were broken and lopsided.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, running to him. She barely realized that she was still dragging an almost limp Hugo behind her. She fell to her knees as she reached him, her hands trembling. Looking quickly over his wounds she knew instantly there was no turning back. Gashes covered almost every inch of his body, some deep enough to show bone. She was to late, it had been to long. It was a miracle that he was still alive. "Oh, Harry! Oh, Harry, I am so sorry."

"T-The ch-child-ren-" he choked.

Hermione nodded, understanding instantly. "I will take care of them, Harry. I promise."

Harry smiled weakly.

"What a touching farewell," a cold voice said, breaking the eerie silence.

Hermione jumped, turning with her wand raised to protect her dying friend and son. The Dark Lord loomed before her, his wand pointed at her heart. He smirked, his lipless mouth curling.

"Gryffindor's. So predictable," he laughed. "Let us end this quickly, shall we? I would rather just get this over with than chase you across Brittan, girl."

Hermione got to her feet, meeting his wand bravely. She would not let Ron, Harry and Ginny die in vain. She would not leave her children and god-children alone. She would fight tooth and nail. She had to. She was all they had left. If she died tonight, she would die knowing that she had done all she could, and didn't run from the fight.

"Here I am," she said evenly. "I won't run."

His laugh cause shivered throughout her body. "What a good girl," he sneered. "Let's get this over with. Avada K-!"

A curse slammed into the Dark Lord's body throwing him into the opposite wall. Hermione blinked hard, her vision swimming as she felt a powerful magic enter the room. A dark cloaked figure descended the stairs quickly, pulling a young Lily behind him by the wrist. Hermione's emotions tore at her insides, jockeying for position. Fear, then relief and hope, then fear again hit her in waves. The sight of the new, dark wizard terrified her yet, somehow, she knew he was there to help as he pushed the young Lily toward Hermione. The little girl was shaking badly, tears tracing her young, pale face as she ran into Hermione's outstretched arms. She wailed into Hermione's side. Hermione only had time to push Lily and Hugo down as a curse flew above their heads.

"Find a place to hide and stay there until I call," Hermione said hurriedly. "Go!"

Hugo grabbed Lily's hand, the two sprinting to the adjoining room as Hermione turned again, her mind on one thing only. The Dark Lord.

The two wizards were dueling fiercly before her, there hands barely visible due to how fast they were moving. Hermione's heart was racing as she raised her wand and aimed it at the Dark Lord.

"Expelliarmus!"

The force of the her spell and what ever hex the dark wizard had thrown at the Dark Lord sent him reeling into the door frame of the front door, his wand flying out of his hand. Hermione and her dark ally moved in, wands still raised, ready to attack again as the Dark Lord slid down the wall.

"This was a warning of my return," the Dark Lord said, the sneer never leaving his pale face. "There will be more to come. So much more."

Hermione flinched at his words, but her wand stayed steady. "You won't hurt anyone else. Never again," she whispered.

The icy laughed filled the foyer once more. "You have much to learn, girl. The Dark Lord will never be truly beaten. I will return."

"DOWN!" roared the dark wizard.

Her ally collided with Hermione, knocking her back and off of her feet. An unnamed curse grazed his arm, and he let out a cry as he fell on top of her. She struggled to roll him off of her, waiting anxiously for the next attack. She looked up, eyes scanning the room fearfully, her wand following them. The Dark Lord was gone.

The dark wizard was on his feet before Hermione could even figure out which way was up, gripping his wand arm in pain. He moved around the room, muttering a few spells Hermione recognized as wards. Very powerful and ancient wards at that. Hermione turned away from him, noting briefly that he had a plain black mask covering his face. She met Harry's dim eyes. He didn't seem to be worried about the strange wizards sudden appearance. Hermione realized he had seemed to recognize the tall, dark figure behind her, but that was the least of her concerns at the moment.

Trusting the wizard to protect her long enough to check on her life long friend, and not of the mindset to wonder why the Dark Lord had let her and the wizard live, Hermione staggered toward Harry. Her limbs were trembling. She was emotionally spent.

"Harry?" she whispered, kneeling down and meeting her friends pained gaze. She raised her wand, preparing to cast a few diagnostic spells.

"N-no," Harry rasped.

"But Harry-"

"N-No, 'M-ione," he said. "R-Ron?"

Hermione winced. He had the right to know. Hermione vaguely realized that the masked wizard had stopped what he was doing and now was kneeling at Harry's side as well. He flicked his wand and Harry sighed. It had not healed him, but the spell seemed to have eased his pain.

"Ron is dead, Harry," she said softly, her voice barely audible.

Harry made a choking noise which sounded like a strangled cry. Hermione met his eyes again; she saw the pain and sadness there. She knew her own eyes reflected the same emotions without even looking. She had not been given the time quite yet to let it sink in that her husband and sister-in-law were dead. Nor did she want to even think about the fact that her best friend would die here before her. Harry turned his eyes to the wizard across from her. He raised a shaky hand and caught the wizards wand arm, his fingers closing around his forearm weakly.

"H-Help her," he begged, roughly. "P-Please, help her. The ch-children-"

There was a pause, the wizard seemed frozen by the request. Hermione's head was spinning. She didn't even know this mystery wizard, and Harry was begging for his help with the children? She didn't understand.

"P-please," Harry begged again. "Please."

Slowly the wizard caught Harry's forearm with his wand hand. He nodded, squeezing reassuringly. Hermione's eyes widened in awe. Their arms glowed with what she recognized as the magic that bound godparents to children. A gift that only parents could give. Hermione's eyes flew to the wizards then to the fading eyes of Harry, alarmed.

"Th-Thank you," he whispered, turning his eyes back to Hermione. "T-Tell the ch-children I-I love th-them."

"H-Harry," Hermione's voice cracked as she squeezed her best friends hand. "I will. I promise, I will."

Harry smiled gently and let out his last breath. It was a long breath, and his green eyes stilled, heavy lidded, ever staring at her with that same, gentle smile. Hermione pressed her free hand to her mouth, trying to keep the tears from coming as they pooled around her eyes. She couldn't cry now. She had to warn Minerva, she had to inform the Order, she had to find Lily and Hugo and she had to find out who her mystery ally was. She reached out with a trembling hand, closing Harry's eyes respectfully, bowing her head.

After a long silence Hermione turned her eyes to her mystery friend. She couldn't see his eyes, the mask covered them as well. She stared at the mask, well aware that he was returning her gaze.

"Who are you?" she asked.

The figure hesitated, then took Harry's arm and gently laid it down next to his body. He lifted a gloved hand slowly, but surely, to his mask, his fingers curling around the face and gripping it carefully. He pulled the mask away gently, as though not to startle her.

Hermione gasped. She knew that face. She had not seen that face in almost twenty years. Emotions flooded through her as, for the second time that night, she stared into the face of a dead man. So many emotions were associated with that face. But as his eyes met hers the emotion that won out all the rest was pure, unadulterated shock. A thin smirk spread across his face in response to her gaping mouth.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley," he said silkily.

AN: And? Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Next Chapter will be up ASAP!