Hey! This is my first story in a while, so bear with me while I get back into the rhythm.

As usual, I do not own any of the characters or the world they live in since those all belong to the wonderful JK Rowling.

Hope you enjoy!

As Hermione walked outside the flat she shared with Ron, she felt the cool November breeze tickling her cheeks. She stood at the bus stop, waiting for the bus headed to downtown London. It had been almost 5 years since the war had ended, and nearly 4 years since she had completed her education at Hogwarts. It wasn't as if she was incapable of simply apparating or flooing to St. Mungo's.

Of course, any time Ginny tagged along she would use magic to transport herself to the wizarding hospital to avoid inconveniencing her friend. But on days like today, when she was going by herself, Hermione enjoyed the time the journey took. She enjoyed the pensive moment she had while she waited outside for the bus to come. She enjoyed the familiar jostling of the bus that she had ridden to her first day of muggle school, to her first trip to Diagon Alley.

For a long time, Hermione had lived in the muggle world. Now that she was living with Ron and working at the Ministry, she hardly ever had the time to indulge herself in the mundane muggle pleasures she did so enjoy.

As she rode the bus downtown, Hermione thought about everything that had happened since the war. Harry, never one to rest, had immediately settled into Auror training after the war had finished. In he was now one of the top Aurors in the office, despite being relatively new to the department. His passion for work meant he often worked late hours, much to the chagrin of his girlfriend. Ginny was stubborn about making Harry feel bad for working long hours. When he wasn't in earshot, however, she would readily admit how proud she was of him and how accepting she was of his work schedule. She just needed to hold something over his head if she ever wanted to level the playing field in their relationship.

While Ginny was constantly pushing her life with Harry forward, Ron, who had been dating Hermione since the Battle of Hogwarts, was rather keen on keeping his life simple. He would occasionally help George out at the joke shop, but everyone knew that he didn't have to work a day in his life with all the money they had received as a thank you for their efforts in the war. He and Hermione had a good relationship, after all, they had been friends for nearly 12 years now. But he was quite happy to settle into a routine. After work, they would talk about their day, then eat dinner, then he would turn on the telly to the quidditch channel she had set up for him, and settle into watching his favorite sport with her curled up at his side with some of her readings for work. It was all very nice and comfortable.

As the bus jolted to a stop, Hermione looked up and realized she had to get off. As she crossed the street, she saw the inconspicuous front of the wizard hospital. She sighed as she walked through the front door and breathed in the strong smell of potions. Although very different from the ultra-sterile smell of muggle hospitals, St. Mungo's was still far from smelling or feeling comfortable. But it was very familiar for Hermione.

See, this was the final part of the routine that her life had become. Granted, this part had nothing to do with Ron's fondness for simplicity. In fact, this was a part of her life that Ron never took part in. She walked along the familiar corridors until she reached their room.

Her parents were in there, chatting away as usual. The obliviate she had cast on them all those years ago had been powerful enough to save them when the war got bad. However, when the war ended, it was still too strong for their memory to be completely healed. To them, she was just a kind woman who came to check on them every week.

The healers insisted that their memory showed signs of improvement and that the potions they were prescribed would take time to restore them to their former selves. They assured her that with time, things would improve. But until the time that their memory began to return on its own, it was best not to try and bring up things from their past. Feeding them memories might bring her comfort, but it was likely to permanently alter the way they knew her and thought of her when their old memories should return. So until the day that they could recognize her on their own, she would be the kind volunteer who came to entertain them every week.

She walked into the hospital room, a small cake in her hands.

"How did you know it was my birthday?" her mother asked. Hermione willed the pain not to show in her eyes. Even after years of this, the forgetting never got any easier.

"The nurses told me. They wanted you to have a nice visitor." Hermione's mother smiled.

"How lovely. I'm rather glad to have the company, you know how dull Harold here can get."

"Hey!" her dad retorted, although the smile in his eyes betrayed his angry tone.

"Kidding, love." It brought Hermione so much joy that they still found such happiness in each other after all this time. At least she knew they had each other. "But really, it's so lovely of you to think of silly old me today. It can be hard since we don't have any close relatives left. No one else to celebrate with."

The words stung. No matter how many times the Grangers referenced their lack of family, it still killed Hermione to keep quiet when all she wanted was to hug them and explain to them that they still had a daughter and she was right here and they could be a family together! But again, that was against the healers' instructions, so she had to gulp it down.

"That's a real shame." She responded. "But I'm always happy to celebrate with you."

"What a kind young woman! Your parents must be so proud of you." Harold exclaimed, patting her on the arm.

"I hope they are." She held his eye contact for a moment, then gave a small smile. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I need to use the loo."

Hermione slipped outside the room as the couple cut into the cake. She took a deep breath. She had to maintain her composure. Just as she was rubbing her shoulders in preparation for reentering the room, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Hermione?" a man's voice questioned from behind her.

"Neville? Oh, how have you been, it's been ages!" She cried as she hugged her friend and former classmate.

"I've been alright. New job at Hogwarts, new flat with Hannah, well there's not much to complain about! What are you doing here?" She shifted her weight and he could tell that she was trying to formulate an answer. Then he saw the sign on the door behind her. "Your parents- blimey, it's been ages, surely they're—" but he stopped when he saw her eyes drop. "Goodness, Hermione, I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

"Thanks, Neville. You of all people would understand."

"Of course. Why don't you tell me about it?"

So she did. She explained how the potion for undoing the obliviate was working as the healers had expected, just slightly slower than normal. How the healers explained that they must just have stubborn minds. She ranted about how she couldn't be their daughter, how much it hurt that she couldn't just be there for them. How lonely it all felt.

"Blimey, Hermione. You seem so distraught."

"Well, I haven't exactly been able to talk to anyone about it. Except Ginny, but she has her own problems, so I don't want to worry her with all the sad details." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as her gaze shifted to the floor. She became suddenly aware of how vulnerable she was.

"What about Ron? Haven't you two been together for ages now? Surely you can trust him."

"He-" How could she put this nicely? "He sort of shuts down anytime I bring up family."

"Oh." She could feel his judgement weighing on the silence between them. Now she really felt uncomfortable. "Well, I'm not sure I'm the best person to help with that myself, but I do know something that might help you. With all of this." He made eye contact. "I don't know if you knew, but Luna has been working as a counselor lately, and she runs this group session every week for war survivors. You know, to talk through grief, and confusion, and morality and stuff. And I really think it helps. To see how much the war has impacted others too, to get some advice from others who are struggling with similar issues." They sat in silence for a moment, letting the vulnerability between them hang in the air like a candle in the Great Hall. Neville pulled out a slip of paper, and quickly jotted down some information. "Here. This is where and when we meet, every Thursday at 5 o'clock. Please do think about it." Neville stood up, and Hermione followed suit.

"Thanks, Neville. Really." She gave him a gentle hug. "We really ought to catch up sometime. Hopefully in a cheerier venue next time." He chuckled lightly.

"I'll see you around, Hermione."

She looked down at the slip of paper in her hand. Sighing, she gently folded it up and put it in her pocket. She knew as she walked back into the hospital room, as she saw her parents' faint smiles, that she would be going to that meeting.

a/n: next chapter we should be getting into more of the drama and more of the fun stuff. Lemme know what you think!