Hermione didn't know what to do. Not only were all of her loved ones dead, but she had no way to contact her parents to see if they were still alive. She pulled her wand out of her pocket, and stared at it. It was useless to her. With most of the wizarding world dead, there was no one she could summon, no one to come to her aid. Muggles were going to start looking for her at any moment, knowing that she was one of the few to survive the war. There was only one thing she could do. She had to go into hiding.
The trek up the mountain was difficult, but Hermione made it in record time. The same cave where the trio had hidden before the war was still there, empty except for the table, stack of old newspapers, and cot in the corner. Hermione had an overwhelming feeling of home, which brought on feelings of terrible sadness at realizing this time, she was alone. She placed her backpack on the floor and sunk onto the cot. The blanket smelled of dirt and winter air, and the pillow was slightly damp, but she didn't care. This was all she had.
Her head began to pound, like it usually did before one of her migraines took over, and she closed her eyes. Her memory was becoming muddled and confusing.
Maybe I should just start at the beginning, she thought. So that's exactly what she did.
Hermione remembered that first morning, and the smell of fresh pancakes wafting up to her room. The day was bright and remarkably warm for spring. Only one other person had they keys to her apartment, so she didn't have any trouble figuring out who was making breakfast. And her suspicion was proved correct when she walked into the kitchen and found her favorite red head at the stove.
"Good morning, beautiful," Ron said. He came out from behind the counter and swept Hermione up into a hug.
"Good morning love. What's the occasion?" Ron only ever made breakfast on a special day. It wasn't their anniversary, it wasn't her birthday, and it wasn't a holiday.
"Do I need an occasion to spoil my beautiful girlfriend?" Ron started nibbling Hermione's neck, making her giggle.
"I guess not," she said. From over Ron's shoulder, she could see smoke beginning to rise from the stovetop.
"Um, love? The pancakes…"
"What?" Ron looked up, and seeing the smoke, rushed to turn off the stove. The pancakes were scorched black on one side.
"How about we go out for breakfast instead?" Hermione laughed.
Once Hermione was showered and dressed in a light, flower print summer dress, they walked the 4 blocks to their favorite diner, and sat at their usual table. The waitress, an older woman named Sue, came to take their order.
"Well look who it is. Let me guess…you burned breakfast?" she joked at Ron. He laughed nervously and grew a nasty shade of red, causing Hermione's suspicion to grow. Did everyone know something she didn't?
"Yeah, the pancakes were black as coal. I'll have a cup of coffee, and some orange juice," she said.
"I'll have the same," Ron said, still bright red, and Sue left. He took Hermione's hand from across the table and smiled, seeming to recover.
"So how have you been lately? Sorry I haven't been around much, Harry and I have been swamped at work." Ron and Harry worked in the Auror office at the Ministry of Magic, and although Voldemort had long since been defeated, there were still Death Eaters who were growing more and more powerful. Recently there had been threats of a second war, causing Harry and Ron to work overtime most days.
"I've been fine, trying to get all my paperwork done. There have been so many trials for those suspected of working for the Dark side, it's been difficult to keep up," Hermione sighed. Her job on the Council of Magical Law, as part of the Wizengamot, was stressful to say the least. Although Ron and Hermione worked in the Ministry together, they hardly ever saw each other during the day.
The coffee arrived then, and Sue gave Ron a questioning look that he returned with a shake of his head, as if to tell her no. Hermione had no idea what was going on, but she decided to ignore it for now. She figured reason would show itself in due time, and it was better for her to wait.
After breakfast, Hermione had a meeting with her boss, Chief Warlock Grisela Marchbanks, but Ron told her they were having dinner that night with his family at the Burrow. He told her to be ready by 6 and gave her a goodbye kiss, and then he Disapparated. Hermione's meeting was at the Ministry, in Griselda's offices. Griselda was very old, and a very sweet woman, the first woman to ever hold the position of Chief Warlock. Hermione loved working under her, and felt she always delivered justice where it was most needed.
When she Apparated to the main entrance to the Ministry, she could feel everyone staring at her. Even after she flushed herself in and was walking toward the lifts, everyone's eyes were still on her. Some were even pointing and whispering. Hermione was confused and disturbed. She had received this kind of attention after the war and she had taken her first job at the Ministry, but it had been 5 years.
What in the name of Merlin is going on? she thought, stepping into a lift. When she reached her floor, she got off, dying to get away from the prying eyes.
Griselda's office was quiet, lined with shelves loaded with books, paintings of past Chief Warlocks on the wall behind her large mahogany desk. Hermione smiled when she saw Albus Dumbledore in his frame, and when he saw her, he winked, as if he knew something she didn't.
"Good afternoon, dear," Griselda crooned from behind her desk. Her slight frame was being swallowed by her midnight blue robes, and her tuft of gray hair stuck out from the top of her head. She was so grandmotherly that at times, Hermione forgot that she was her boss.
"Good afternoon, Griselda. I brought the papers for the Donovan case. I know you said you needed them next week, but I figured since they were done…" Hermione trailed off.
"Oh yes, of course. Just leave them with Abigail on your way out. However, that is not why I wanted a meeting with you."
"What would be the reason?"
Griselda motioned for Hermione to sit down, and shuffled some pieces of parchment around her desk, looking for something. When she found the parchment she wanted, she handed it to Hermione.
"I received this from the Minister yesterday. It has to do with a young man we've been following, who we suspect might be a supporter of Dark magic. The Minister wants someone from the Wizengamot to follow him, and I figured you would be the best for the job."
Hermione tried to take all this in. Griselda wanted her to follow around some man, like a spy, to gather information on him. But why would she choose Hermione?
"Why me? I've only been on the Wizengamot for 3 years. There are many more who are more experienced, better qualified."
"Well, dear, I chose you because you know this young man."
Hermione froze. She knew him? But who on Earth could it be? She flipped the parchment over and looked at the back. It was then that she saw the name, written in curly black script.
Draco Malfoy.
"And now she wants me to follow him around!" Hermione was pacing back and forth in her living room, while Ginny Weasley sat on her couch. She had called Ginny to come over as soon as she returned from her meeting. Ginny was a great listener, letting Hermione vent and fume until she was blue in the face.
"Well, it's not like it will be a difficult job. We already know he's on the Dark side. He has been since he was a boy. You remember Lucius, I'm sure Draco followed in his footsteps to becoming the next big Death Eater," Ginny said sarcastically.
"I know that, but how does she expect me to follow him around? He's bound to notice if his old school enemy appears everywhere he does," Hermione sighed, exasperated.
"Use Harry's invisibility cloak. He barely uses it anymore; it just collects dust in the front closet now." Hermione laughed at this, just what Ginny intended. "Mione, you need to not stress yourself out so much. You already work much more than you should, we hardly see you, and Ron is always complaining that you're distant when he's with you."
Hermione sat on the couch next to Ginny and sighed. She was right. Hermione was stressed more than any 24 year old woman with a great job should be. And it was true; she skipped out on a lot of dinners at the Burrow because she was doing paperwork or reading up on a trial. Her relationship was always second to her job; her personal well being was always second to her relationship. She needed to loosen up.
"Oh Ginny, you're right. I'll just have to figure things out as I go, I guess. I don't know what else to do."
"Let me help you, love," Ginny said, getting up and grabbing Hermione's hand. Giggling like a school girl, she led Hermione to her own room, and began pulling clothes out of her closet.
"Ginny, what are you doing?"
"Finding you a decent outfit to wear."
"For what? It's just Sunday dinner with your family. Nothing special…right?" Ginny just winked at her and continued pulling clothes out of the closet. A half an hour later, Hermione stood in front of the mirror in a pale pink chiffon knee length wrap dress, nude sling back heels, and holding a white sequined bag. Her hair was loosely curled and piled on top of her head, and her makeup was light but gorgeous. Hermione still had no idea why she was so dressed up, but she decided it was best not to ask any more questions.
"I know Ron told you to be ready at 6, but I'm taking you there instead. He got caught up doing something with Harry." Ginny said, fixing a curl in Hermione's bun. The two women walked into the living room and Apparated to the Burrow's front lawn. Hermione could hear laughter and conversation through the kitchen windows. It seemed like more people than normal.
"Ginny, who's here?" Hermione asked as they walked to the kitchen door. However, Ginny just remained silent, and opened the door with a loud bang.
"Mum! We're here!" she shouted. Immediately everyone grew silent, and Mrs. Weasley appeared in front of them.
"Oh Hermione, how wonderful to see you! You look absolutely lovely! Come in, darling, come in." She led Hermione into the living room, Ginny trailing close behind. Hermione was right, there were more people here than during normal Sunday dinners. Remus and Tonks' son, Teddy, was sitting next to Victoire, looking adorable in their little robes. Bill and Fleur sat next to them, Charlie next to Bill, and the rest of the Weasley clan scattered around the room. Ginny ran over to Harry, who was holding their first son, James.
"What's going on?" Hermione asked. She looked around the room again. "Where is Ron?"
"Right here," said a voice from behind her. She jumped and spun around. There Ron stood, wearing a crisp white dress shirt and black slacks, looking absolutely handsome.
Hermione wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.
"Love, what's going on?" Hermione would keep asking all night if she had to, she wanted an answer. Ron took her hand and kissed it, then got down on one knee. He pulled a velvet box out of his pocket and opened it. Hermione's breath caught in her throat.
"Hermione Jean Granger, ever since the first time I laid eyes on you in first year, I knew I would love you. As the years went on, I did love you. I loved you more and more, and if Harry hadn't pushed me, I never would have told you." At this, Harry smiled and winked. "Hermione, I love you. Will you marry me?"
Finally, Hermione knew what everyone kept from her. She felt the tears coming down her cheeks, felt her heart fluttering in her chest. Her head was nodding yes before the word could leave her lips. Everyone in the room began to cheer and cry as Hermione dropped to her knees in front of Ron and he slipped a ring onto her finger. It was stunning, white gold with a large square diamond, encircled with smaller diamonds. She could not stop herself from kissing him again and again, in front of everyone.
Dinner that night was the best dinner she had ever had. Mrs. Weasley and Fleur had worked all day to prepare it, and it showed. Hermione could not keep her eyes off her ring. She couldn't believe it. She thought it would have been much later, perhaps after they had gotten that flat together like they planned. Looking at Ron now, she couldn't help but smile. He surprised her, and she couldn't be happier. She had found the love of her life, and together, they would live a long, happy, prosperous life. She just knew it.
2 YEARS LATER
"No, I can't take the day off, I've taken off too many days this month, and Griselda is getting concerned."
"Well then who do you suppose will accept the package when it gets here?"
"I don't know! And I don't care! Can't you just wait until Saturday?" Hermione had had enough. She stormed out of the flat and ran down the stairs in a hurry. Tears streamed down her face before she could stop them, but she didn't care. Ron was so fucking inconsiderate and selfish. It was his package, he could get it himself. She was his wife, not his housemaid. Sometimes, Hermione wondered if Ron even knew the difference.
Ever since they got married, their marriage had begun to crumble. Their engagement was storybook perfect, and they were a typical head-over-heels in love couple. The wedding was beautiful, with a dress handmade by Mrs. Weasley, on a cliff overlooking a luscious green valley in Scotland. Their honeymoon to Greece was lovely, 2 weeks' worth of swimming in the ocean and walking through the cobble stone streets. But the day they returned home to their new shared flat, the arguments began. Ron seemed to think he was king of the world, and insisted everything be done his way. Hermione was always trying to reason with him. And to make things worse, he had formed a companionship with Jack Daniels. Ron was never the same after that.
As she neared the diner, it began to rain. She began to run, and was dripping by the time she swung open the door. Sue saw her and a pitied expression crossed her face. She knew it was a bad night, and didn't say a word when Hermione plopped down at the counter, just poured a cup of coffee.
The night wore on, but Hermione didn't leave. Even after the last customer left and Sue was wiping down the last table, Hermione remained seated on her stool. Just as Sue was about to leave, she dropped a key in front of Hermione.
"It's a copy. Front door. Keep it. Lock it when you leave." Then she left.
In the dark of the diner, Hermione took a deep breath. She couldn't let this go on, for her sanity's sake. It was suddenly clear what she had to do. She had to leave Ron. It would be difficult, she knew. Leaving him meant leaving the entire Weasley family, and she loved them dearly. Leaving him meant ending a marriage everyone had been waiting for since their second year. Leaving him meant having to deal with an enraged Ron who would fight it until the end.
Locking the door behind her, Hermione headed back to the flat. She would have to execute this carefully. She couldn't just walk in and say "Ron, I want a divorce". He would go crazy, and more than likely he had been drinking while she was out. No, this would take time, and craft. It would take the cunning and smarts Hermione was known for.
When Hermione walked into the living room, it was eerily quiet. The lights were all off, and the moonlight was the only thing illuminating the room. There were empty whiskey bottles on the coffee table, confirming Hermione's earlier suspicion.
"Ron? Hello?" she called out. When there was no answer, Hermione flipped on the lights. In the sudden brightness, she could see dirt all over the floors, and what looked like broken twigs on the couches.