Hermione has retreated to the muggle world following the war. She completed her eight year, but then chose to rather attend a muggle university than continue to live among wizards. The scars were too much to bear. One chance encounter in a coffee shop across the street from her flat changes everything.Dramione
-- Chapter 1: Lunch with Harry --
Hermione yawned, putting a balled hand up over her mouth as she stretched out sinking into the chair. She signed and stared at the textbook in front of her. Abnormal Psychology In a Changing World is an interesting read but she can't help the questions in her head that keep distracting her from reading. She just finished the chapter on psychopathy and it made sense to the extent she so far understood, but her mind kept wandering back to the war and she fell into a living dream again. Images flashed, colors of spells vivid in her mind, screams of agony filled the memory in loud echoes as she recalled Bellatrix's laughter and the resounding voice of Molly screaming Not my daughter, you bitch. The sound of the Avada Kedavra spell had a searing quality to it comparable only to a droplet of water on a hot stove. A doorbell rang shaking Hermione out of her memories and she quickly wiped a tear away that she didn't even noticed had fallen.
"Shit, Harry." She whispered to herself and quickly got up to open the front door. Harry came to visit her every once in a while, sometimes bringing Ginny with him, other times Ron. The latter two never came alone because the Muggle world was overwhelming and they felt almost scared to tread it alone. Last time she saw Ginny, the redhead gave the inclination of maybe considering coming alone next time for a girl's weekend, but has been iffy on actually going through with it, considering it has been three weeks since the idea was proposed. Harry came every other Friday at 3 pm like clockwork for a late lunch simply to catch up.
She opened the front door and smiled. Harry's black hair was as messy as always and he was sporting a sheepish grin holding a white box in hands, "Doughnuts?" he greeted.
Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "Oh geez ,Harry, yes, yes to doughnuts. Come in while I get ready. I've been studying all day and lost track of time."
She walked away from her front door, letting Harry shut the door and walked behind her kitchen peninsula turning on the tap. "Coffee or tea?"
"Ugh, tea please."
She turned to fill both tanks of water, for both the tea pot and the coffee pot and saw Harry, on the other side of the peninsula stuffing his mouth with a coconut glazed doughnut, elbows resting on the hard cold marble top.
"How's everyone?" Hermione asked as she began to make her cup of coffee and his tea.
"Wondering when you'll step foot in the wizarding world again, but other than that, fine." He then proceeded to swallow the bit in his mouth.
"Chew first then speak, I don't want the Boy Who Lived to die by chocking on my kitchen. And Harry I do come back. I just seclude myself to practice magic and once I've completed what I've set out to learn or practice, I return here."
"I've survived eating at Hogwarts, I'm sure a doughnut won't be the end of me. 'Mione you know that's not what I meant. It's been 2 years since you graduated Hogwarts, and three since the war and in those two years you haven't once gone to the Burrow, not once visited Hogwarts, not once stepped foot anywhere in the magical place world where you once roamed freely. You still have family there, you have us. Your little magic practice trips to secluded undisclosed locations don't count."
Hermione placed a cup of mint tea with honey on the side in front of Harry and took a sip of her own coffee. She placed her cup down and began to walk towards her bedroom, "We've been over this many times Harry."
"Just because I heard it doesn't mean I understand it. I still do respect it as it is your decision."
She let out a humorless laugh and closed her bedroom door behind her. Harry was well through his third doughnut thinking about his next training session in Bulgaria when Hermione's voice broke his train of thought, "If you eat one more you won't have space for actual lunch."
He shot her a frosted smile and Hermione laughed as she closed the latch on her watch.
"You look good," he commented, eying her from head to toe. She wore dark high wasted jeans, a white Rolling Stones t-shirt beneath a black leather jacket, and white converse sneakers.
Hermione smiled, "And you have pink glaze on your shirt." Harry glanced down at his black plain t-shirt and moved to retrieve his wand, "Muggle world Harry!" He groaned, rolling his eyes at Hermione placing items into her leather purse and walked comically into the bathroom, "I hate this place sometimes."
"Spoiled brat," she commented to herself as she quickly scanned her wallet for how much money she had, before placing it in her bag, and grabbing her keys. She opened the door just in time for him to strut out, pouting about the small wet spot on his shirt before she shut the door behind them, letting it lock automatically.
They sat in their usual spot by the window in a little antique restaurant. Hermione was drawn to its rustic feel, the wood décor, the 1940s lamps and chandeliers, dishes, and how quaint their tea cups were. There was a perfect spot by the big window display with two wicker chairs that looked like sofas due to their incredibly comfortable pillows. Most days she brought her notebooks and textbooks down here and studied until the twilight hit through the window in a romantic way. Simple, beautiful escapes. The staff was beyond nice and the food was as brilliant as the establishment, so when Harry came to visit her, she immediately took him there.
They ordered their usual, keeping up random chit chat until the food arrived. Harry took a bite of his burger, wiped some runaway sauce from his mouth and made a mph noise that made Hermione look up from her salty waffles. He kept his eyes wide, rubbing his hands with a napkin before swallowing and dipping a French fry into some ketchup.
"Yes?" she said before she took a bite of her waffle.
"How's university going?" He threw the French fry into his mouth.
Swallowing, Hermione rested her hands on the plate, fork and knife still in hand. She thought for a moment before beginning to cut again, "It's alright," she responded,
"There's an option now to go abroad for a semester, Fall/Winter of my junior year. I'm considering it." She took another bite, and watched Harry for a second before moving to get her cup of tea.
Harry looked visibly surprised but she couldn't tell whether it was a bad surprised or a good one. His comment didn't clarify and his tone was concealed by a mouth full of food, "Where?"
"Harvard," she sipped her tea.
Harry nodded as if he was banging his head at a metal concert, "Wow, 'Mione, that's excellent. You're excelling in both worlds like a true know-it-all bookworm."
The brunette flashed a sarcastic smile. Harry returned it with a cheeky grin, "I'm joking, that's great news. Why are you considering it, you should take it."
"Because I would have to be paired with another student, and they are refusing to tell me who else might get the transfer along with me." Hermione offhandedly replied, looking around the room. Harry wiped his mouth with a napkin and looked around, as well. "I need the waitress," she clarified, "more tea."
Harry shook his head muttering something about the weird British people and took another huge bite of his burger.
"On average, the British drink more coffee than tea. Plus, you're just as British as me. You're not escaping the stereotype by stating someone else belongs to it."
Harry rolled his eyes at her tone, "No, but explain that transfer thing. What's the issue again?" he changed the subject.
"The university pairs students to go on transfers. Only the best students are allowed to go because the transfer includes a massive research project that is submitted at the end. A research grant is included so not everyone qualifies. Out of the women in my year, I qualified…" Harry muttered something along the lines of of course and Hermione shot him a glare before continuing, "But the haven't yet announced the male winner, if there is one. I'd rather go alone or with another girl honestly, but apparently no one in my year is good enough for the grant."
"I'm going to ignore how stuck up you sound and ask whether if no one meets the criteria, no one goes?"
Hermione shot him another look, "If no one qualifies, no one qualifies. However the reason I said I'm considering it is because I don't know whether I should. The longer I'm not part of the wizarding world , the easier I find it not to be. If I go abroad, it might solidify that."
"There is a magical community in America. We'll pull you back in somehow. Stop running away Hermione. Don't let the pureblood assholes win by chasing out the best witches of our age. It's better than having killed you. I know you feel if you hadn't been there – if muggle borns and muggles stay separate, it'll be better, but.. Their traumas, their reasons for war are far misplaced from reality. Voldemort for his reasons, everyone for reasons that starter off as personal and became generalized rage over time. Don't let misplaced rage take away your friends, family, and life."
Hermione quickly smiled at the waitress that began to clear their table and asked her for the check before leaning into her arms in the table, "Harry, there's a reason wizards hate muggles, and when I dug into the history I almost wanted to go back in time and let them kill me. Why on Earth is it called the Ministry of Magic, as if it's part of a bigger government? Why did the minister have to alert the head of Muggle UK that he was bringing a dragon into the country? Why is magic so regulated? Think Harry and think about what the Muggles had to have done to wizards for them to bow basically to Muggle law and conditions. I completely understand them, now. I tried, I saw, and now I know my place isn't among them. I'm muggle born. I've learned magic, I've had a great time, and now I'm returning to the world I was actually born into." Hermione finished and placed money into the tiny plate with the check on the table.
"Hermione, I love you, but you're not who I remember. I want the old Hermione back, not one that wants to be the one believes history is somehow her fault. You're not trash among them. You're studying to be a mind healer,"
"A psychologist," she corrected.
Harry rolled his eyes and stood up, "Either way, figure out how to heal your mind or go to someone who can help. I want my Mione back. But yeah, Harvard is still an amazing opportunity, and I am proud of you, and I know everyone else will be, too. You continually amaze. Don't doubt yourself when you know how brilliant you are."
Hermione smiled and stood up, picked her purse up from the window sill, and walked through the front door that Harry held open for her.
"I think if a brother were on my flesh and blood, he wouldn't be as awesome a brother as you, Harry. I love you." She stood on her tiptoes and hugged him.
"You, too. Be safe until next time." He hugged her extra hard for a second and then turned on his heel and began to walk away. Hermione stared after him for a moment before noting the clouds had begun to darken. Quickly, she turned and walked towards home.
Authors Note:This will be a slow processing fic. If anyone is interested I will continue. There will be 2 chapters per main character before they finally meet. So the next chapter will not feature Draco just yet. This has also been written from an Android phone MS word app so please be kind if there are mistakes or spelling errors or if this whole thing is suddenly misformatted.Thank you!