MODF: Hello, all! I'll make it short and sweet… Here's Chapter Two!

Info: Hermione left the Wizarding world after it happened. She tries to put it all from her mind, but what happens when echoes of her oppressed past haunt her and she is asked to return once again to the place she called Home?

Warnings: Post-war and Post-Character death. Do not read if this upsets you.

Romantic relationships to take place.

Do not read if you are a pureblood/hate Muggleborns, 'cause this pairing will FRY YOUR ARSE :D

(Especially if you are from Slytherin, or if you are Snape, who hates everything with a burning passion.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any characters here and within (unless I state otherwise… which I probably won't.) I am not making a profit off of this, people! It's simply for entertainment! J. K. Rowling is the brilliant mastermind behind the Potterverse. So… On with the Fanfiction!

Chapter Two

Of Ghosts and Home

Hermione awoke that morning on her floor still crouched in the corner, not feeling at all as refreshed as she should after sleeping for so long. Groaning, she picked herself up off of the polished wood floor and, glancing over at her desk, saw the long black box flipped over with her wand balancing precariously on the edge of the desk. Grasping the wand in her shaking hand she suddenly felt the old comfort of wielding it swell inside of her.

'Wingardium Leviosa,' she whispered, a small smile on her face. The box put itself back together and floated back into the drawer. The drawer shut itself with another flick of her wand.

"Packing should be easy now that I have my wand," she thought to herself. "But there's always what to do about this flat..."

She contemplated leaving it 'as is', butimmediately dismissed the idea, shuddering at the thought of the inches of dust she would have to clean upon her return. She was far too attached to it to let it go, so she eventually decided upon leaving the keys with her neighbour, a kindly lady who she knew wouldn't mind cleaning up, as she offred to do it all of the time anyways. She would just have to send her some money for doing it… She would also have to continue paying rent. And there was always her previous job, which she would have to resign from immediately. Sighing, she left off to start her day with some tea and some toast at the café.

By five o'clock Hermione had her affairs settled and by six o'clock she was strolling leisurely about the village of Hogsmeade, glancing at the items in the shop windows as she passed them. She had opted to apparate to Madame Rosmerta's as it was much easier to move baggage that way. She simply left it with Rosmerta, (who, in her thirties, still looked just as radiant as she ever had,) who had it sent up to the castle.

Now she found herself reminiscing about old times in the warm, silent streets of that little village. It was something straight from her past as she walked along by herself, and suddenly she was 13 again. It was her first trip to Hogsmeade, but Harry didn't get a slip to permit him entrance, she was walking alone with Ron.

She was 15, on her way to the Hog's Head, where she was to help organize 'Dumbledore's Army,' the small club working against the evil Dolores Umbridge as well as the corrupted Ministry of Magic.

She was 20, running down the road, wrapped in a traveler's cloak, beside Ron and Harry. They were running towards the horrid tortured screaming coming from the other end of the street.

She was 21, walking from the castle, her back turned on everything she had held close, everything she had known for a greater part of her life.

And then she was 25 once more, walking in silence towards lingering ghosts and memories from her past. She had a feeling she could not shake. A feeling deep inside that the road to reconciliation with her past would not be as smooth as the road she walked on that warm summer evening.

There was a single carriage awaiting her arrival in the dusky nightfall. Te air around her was thick with heavy, sickly sweet perfumes emitting from flowers and trees on the outskirts of the school grounds. The carriages were the same as she had remembered them; dark and looming they were still pulled by a pair of shadowy, skeletal Thestrals whose blank eyes shown brightly at Hermione as she stared at them. She grimaced as she ran her hand across the bony back of one of them, remembering that night she and her friends rode these beasts to the fateful battle at the Department of Mysteries.

"Harry had lost some of himself the night Sirius died,' she thought to herself, sighing sadly. 'We all did …"

The door to the carriage swung open with a slight creak and she carefully stepped inside. The road was a bit bumpy, but she was thankful for the carriage as it started to downpour. The cool summer rain hit causing eerie mists to furl up from the grounds, bleeding red in the setting sun. The carriage bumped along, and looking into the distance she could see the familiar imposing figure of Hogwarts Castle looming overhead, a giant shadow against the watercolour skies.

Hermione stared out into the mist, into space, until the carriage shuddered to a halt and she stepped out of it. She looked up in awe and reverence at those heavy wooden doors that were as a stronghold to the great stone fortress. Pulling them open she was breathless upon entering the Entrance Hall of the castle. It was exactly as she had seen it the first time; the same old paintings decorated the same stone walls. The same rich red carpeting was draped over the same stone floors. The same suits of armour stared at her as she entered, and as she looked up, the ceiling was so high she almost couldn't see it. She couldn't help but smile as she looked at the door that led to an antechamber, remembering the first time she had entered, led there by Professor McGonagall to await her sorting. She remembered the nervousness in the pit of her stomach at the mystery of what was to happen next.

Smile still touching her lips, Hermione took a deep breath and pushed through another set of doors— the doors to the Great Hall. It was the point of no return. They opened with a loud 'whoosh', and wonderful chattering of students and clinking of silverware poured out, filling her with their echoing laughter. She felt comforted walking into the familiar room. She was finally home.

Thousands of heads turned in her direction as she entered the Great Hall, and the chattering grew louder as she proceeded down the aisle between two of the long, wooden tables toward the staff table at the head of the room. Looking towards it, she still half-expected to see Dumbledore's wonderful eyes twinkling at her, Snape's angry glaring at random students in the Hall, and McGonagall's stern glance as she spoke with her colleagues. She found that time had changed this part of Hogwarts; the place where Dumbledore once sat was now occupied by Harry, whose emerald eyes gleamed as he looked into hers and smiled. Where McGonagall once sat was a now empty chair, which was presumably for her. And where Snape would have sat was a stunningly attractive man with slicked back platinum blonde hair and eyes grey-blue like stormy winter skies. Those striking eyes met hers for only a moment before they narrowed at her and looked away. Tearing her eyes away she stood before Harry who, embracing her, whispered gently into her ear.

'Welcome home, 'Mione. We're glad to have you back.'

Draco Malfoy had been quite curious to know who exactly Potter had found to replace Minerva McGonagall as the Transfiguration professor. While he had constantly questioned the Man about the holder of the position— every day for one whole month, to be precise— he was waved off each and every time. This was due, of course, to Potter's lack of awareness. If he knew anything at all he would know that when a Malfoy wants something, a Malfoy gets it. Always. Of course Potter was a stubborn fool, and so Draco was forced to await the new Professor's arrival.

He had to admit himself to be taken aback when he saw none other than Hermione Granger stroll through the doors of the Great Hall half way through the Welcoming Feast, a small smile tugging at her lips, cheeks flushed from the warmth of outside. Not too much had changed since they had last saw each other; Her hair was bushy as ever, but thankfully it was pulled into a ponytail at the back of her head, keeping it slightly tame. Her skin was the colour of butter cream, and he couldn't help but notice that the soft black cotton skirt trailed down over miles of long, smooth leg. Were he not a man of dignity, it was likely he would have drooled. He also couldn't help but notice that the same heavy air of practicality and bookishness practically radiated around her. No, her appearance changed slightly, but she was more than likely the same old Granger.

Their eyes met only for a brief moment; he didn't allow himself too long to gaze into her big, brown eyes before giving her a Malfoy-esque glare (purely for show,) and looking away. He couldn't be caught staring at her without cause, of course. That would be undignified. Potter embraced her and whispered something in her ear before tapping his wand against his glass and turning to address the students.

'Boys and Girls, Ghosts and Staff, I beg your attention for just a few short moments before you go about your business. I would like to present to you our new Transfiguration teacher, Professor Hermione Granger. I am quite sure you will make her feel welcome here, as she is my guest and has come to teach you as a favour to me.' Everyone clapped for her, including the Draco himself who clapped politely, and she flashed a smile before taking the empty seat next to Harry. The feast went on as it had before, and her glance never returned to look upon him.

MODF: Wheeee! Sorry about it taking so long… It was Draco's little section that took the longest, actually. Damn him! XD So yeah… Your reviews would be lovely! I know I have two people who added it to their favourites list, but only one review … Special thanks to my first reviewer, Sweetblood-theDraconianDevil. Chiao for now!