A/N: Hello All! This is my new fic about Hermione's life right after the war. Just to let you know, it's Dramione with HarryxBlaise on the side.

I'm hoping to post one chapter a week, but knowing me, I might more often than that once finals are over.

I do not own Harry Potter of the HP world... Unfortunately.

Chapter 1

One thing that Hermione could admit was that she was wrong about just how hard the aftermath of the war would be. She went to the funerals of those who died and visited those who were injured during the Final Battle and every battle beforehand.

But one thing was clear. It didn't help.

She often found herself sitting in the kitchen of Grimmauld place after the nightmares. She would pour herself a glass of Fire Whiskey and watch the fire from the fireplace dance in its reflection. Harry would go here often, and they would sit in silence. He was the one who convinced her to start in the Wizarding World, that she belonged there.

She didn't. Not anymore, and maybe not ever.

She had originally gone to the Burrow after the war but decided not to say after the loud and frankly disruptive fight and breakup between herself and Ron. It would have never worked, not after what he did — abandoning her so easily.

She knew that he also lost his family, that he was afraid that he would lose more. But she and Harry were his family too, right? No. And that's when the doubt started.

Ron tried to understand when she pushed him away, and she couldn't blame him for their young relationship dying so soon. She just could feel anything. She wondered if she had ever felt anything but pain. She was numb, and from what she can remember, she always has been.

Harry understood Hermione knew he did. He and Ginny had broken up because they wanted different things. Ginny wanted to join a Quidditch team, and she wanted Harry to take the Auror offer from Kingsley but when Harry got a letter informing him that he could return to Hogwarts for what would be a normal year.

Hermione and Harry both agreed when they got their letters. They were going back for a second chance, a new beginning to start something new, both tired of fighting, of always being on the lookout.

Ron was joining Cuddley's Quidditch team as Keeper and was against going back to school altogether.

Like Hermione had thought since he abandoned them in the Forest of Dean. He didn't understand.

On the morning of September 1st, Hermione and Harry left Grimmauld place hand and hand, supporting each other like they always had.

Once they had gotten to the train station, the whispers began. People waved and cheered as they walked by. Hermione pushed herself closer to Harry, who looked straight on, not acknowledging those who wanted his attention.

They found an empty compartment, and Hermione, out of habit, warded it shut, ensuring that no one from the outside world would get in.

Harry sat down, and Hermione began to pace anxiously.

"It doesn't feel like I hoped it would," Harry said, "I feel like a circus animal."

"I know what you mean," Hermione replied, panic slowly engulfing her at the idea of this being her new reality, tears threatening her. "I don't like it. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe we shouldn't have come back. Oh Merlin, Harry! What are we going to do?"

Harry pulled her down next to him, "Breathe, Hermione," He whispered, "If its a mistake, we'll leave. We'll go somewhere far away… I've heard Brazil is a nice place, we can go there."

Hermione snorted out a wet laugh, wiping away wayward tears. "Okay," Hermione said, "if we hate it, we'll go to Brazil, leave everything behind."

The rest of the train ride was silent, Harry stared blankly outside the window, and Hermione fidgeted, picking at her lips until they bled.

When the train finally stopped, Hermione didn't budge. She made a mistake. A huge, mistake. She should have just stayed in Australia with her parents as they begged her too a year ago when she "obliviated" them.

Harry had to coax Hermione up and out of the compartment, opening the door from the inside breaking the warding. Harry threw his arm over her shoulder, holding her close, whispering words into her ear.

It's was from the corner of her eye that she saw a streak of blond hair, and Hermione's body froze, her hand jumping straight to her left forearm where the slur was forever etched into her.

"Don't look at him, Herms," Harry said, "he isn't here, you don't have to talk to him ever. I'll make sure of it."

Hagrid started to call out for the first years. There weren't more than 20 children eagerly oohing and awing at what they saw.

Harry ushered Hermione into a carriage pulled by the thestrals everyone could now see.

At the Great Hall, Hermione sat next to Harry, other Gryffindor's sat around them, but Hermione kept her eyes on her play the entire time. After the sorting the only sounds in the room were two first-years chatting away, other, more silent conversations muted by it.

They must be Muggleborns, Hermione thought to herself, as she watched the two new Gryffindor's talking together.

For the first time, Hermione looked up, her eyes landing on the pale blond boy across the Hall. He sat alone, isolated from all the other Slytherin's at the back of the table. A few Slytherin's looking his way with worry, and Hermione could understand why. He was thin. Not as thin as he used to be, but he still didn't look healthy. No healthier than she looked.

Eventually, Malfoy's eyes met her's, and he held her gaze for a moment. His eyes were hollow. His eyes had seen so much, too much. Not unlike Harry's. Or Neville's. Or Ron's. Or hers.

Malfoy was the first to look away. He blinked several times, his lip quivered for a moment before standing and stomping out of the hall.

Blaise Zabini stood up as well, running after him, calling his name.

"Death Eater." Seamus said, "Why did he even come back?"

"Seamus—" Harry, Neville, and Dean said at once.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Finnigan," Hermione said.

The room went silent, and from the corner of Hermione's eye, she saw Harry's jaw go slack.

"This was a mistake," Hermione said, to Harry before standing up, moving to leave, "We shouldn't have come back."

Hermione stormed out of the Great Hall, anger coiling in her chest.