Chapter 1 –

A/N: Unfortunately, I do not own any of the characters and this is simply me playing in the beautiful world JK Rowling created. Feedback is always welcome. I plan to post a chapter every few days until its finished. I am already just about to the end so there shouldn't be any gaps or long waits. Enjoy!

Taking one last look around the flat that had been my home for the last year, I was satisfied I hadn't left anything behind. After all, there wasn't much to gather in the first place. I had run away to Australia just over a year ago with a single bag that contained all my essentials and hope in my heart that I would be able to undo the damage I had caused to my parents. Unfortunately, life didn't seem to work in my favor lately.

I smoothed back my hair and wrapped it in an elastic to keep it in place. It was longer than I used to wear it and I was thankful that the once bushy mess now hung in smooth waves. It was certainly easier to care for and less maintenance. The flat I was leaving held little in terms of positive memories for me, but I couldn't deny I had grown in the time I was here. You see, before my sudden trip halfway across the world, my life had been a complete mess.

Obviously my whole life hadn't been a disaster. I had a nice childhood with parents who loved me, though it was a little lonely. I had always been different and found making friends to be difficult. Books had been my passion from a very young age and it was difficult for other kids to understand that. Add in the weird things that seemed to happen when I was around and it was just easier for me to be a loner. I had accepted that all the way until the summer after my eleventh birthday. That was when my life took a drastic change.

It was a warm July day and I was out front tending to the garden with my mother. Gardening had always been a favorite pastime of hers and, while I didn't particularly enjoy it, I always helped her as an excuse to do something together. We were chatting about the beautiful day and the tulips we were planting when a throat clearing startled us. We turned to see an older woman in a green cloak staring at us fondly.

We weren't expecting visitors, but the woman quickly introduced herself as Professor Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress of a boarding school in Scotland. At first my mother was confused, but professor McGonagall offered to explain inside.

When the words began to flow from her mouth, I hung onto every syllable. It suddenly all made sense. Odd things had happened when I was particularly emotional all my life. One time, at school, there was this bully named Marissa. She loved to tease me about my thick, bushy hair and this time was particularly bad. I remembered being so upset that I wished her perfect blonde hair would just fall out. No sooner had the thought crossed my mind, her hair actually did begin to fall out in great heaping clumps. Marissa ran home screaming and had to wear a wig for over a year until it grew back to an acceptable length.

Professor McGonagall now had a reason why those things happened. I, Hermione Jean Granger, am a witch. I accepted the information willingly and without question looking forward to the fresh start at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with people of my kind. Unfortunately, I learned early on that people in the wizarding world were just as cruel as those in the muggle world. Worse, here I was a minority and looked down upon for being muggleborn.

I could handle the teasing, I had years of practice and a whole library of books to study and learn that kept me occupied enough that I didn't worry about it too much. However, then I became friends with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. I didn't know it at the time, but the bond we formed after fighting a mountain troll that year brought us down a path I could never had expected.

It all culminated last year as the war between light and dark came to an end during the final battle at Hogwarts. Harry, Ron and I had been on the run for about nine months prior to the battle on a mission that often seemed impossible. We slept in a tent in the middle of nowhere, had little food, lots of frustration, and almost no direction on what to do next. It wasn't easy as we tried our hardest to save the world from the man who called himself Lord Voldemort.

Ron became frustrated and left us part way through our time on the run, only to return with a weak apology. Things were terribly strained between us after that. Before he had left I had a bit of a thing for the scrawny red head. His leaving broke a trust that couldn't be repaired. We needed him and he was gone. Harry was quick to forgive and, after being captured and tortured, I eventually forgave him as well. However, I knew things would never be the same.

Unfortunately, I didn't ever get a chance to find out if I was right or wrong. Our side won during the final battle, but at great cost. Ron was dueling one of Voldemort's elite followers when a spell hit the wall behind him. The wall was already cracked from the intensity of the fight that raged around it and that one final hit sent it crumbling. Ron's neck was snapped and he was gone instantly. He became one of more than fifty brave fighters who lost their lives that night.

After the final battle, I couldn't take it anymore. I was welcomed into the Weasley home, but Ron's parents had six other children to look after, plus Harry, and at the time I really just needed my space. So I took off after the last funeral and attempted to locate my own parents. Before going on the run I had placed a strong memory charm on them and sent them to Australia in an effort to protect them.

It was pure luck I had survived the war and it appeared that luck had run out. Three months after trying to locate my parents I learned they were involved in a car crash six months after their arrival. A drunk driver hit their car head on and they were dead in an instant.

It was at this point that my life lost all meaning. My parents were dead and the boy I had at one point thought I would marry was gone with them. We had one the war, but I had lost everything that I had ever known. That peaceful. Happy future I had dreamed of while we were on the run was shattered.

I could have gone back home at that point, but for some reason I just couldn't face it all. Before I had left home the media was ruthless. Everyone wanted a story and a photo and it was impossible to get any type of peace when I left the house. As one of the surviving members of the so called, "Golden Trio" the expectations were ruthless. I had no desire in my depressed state to go back to that chaos. At least in Australia no one knew who I was.

In the end, it was good for me to be on my own for a while. The time alone gave me time to come to terms with my parent's deaths. I did what I could to protect them from the harm that I knew was headed for them. As for what happened, that was outside my control and was an unforeseen outcome. If I had done nothing, their death wasn't just a possibility, it was a certainty.

Ron's death took a little longer to get over. We had just started to repair our friendship when the final battle took place. At first I thought I was torn up at not just the loss of a best friend, but the loss at a potential spouse. For so long everyone had assumed we would be together and so that image was in my head as well.

It took a while for me to realize part of why I was struggling was the guilt I carried from feeling relief. I knew deep down a relationship with Ron would have never worked. Honestly, our friendship barely worked most days. He was hot headed and held outdated beliefs while refusing to listen to other's viewpoints. I believed in research and evolution and standing up for what I felt is right. It wasn't uncommon for us to go days and weeks without talking after one of our rows and leaving Harry to play the middle man. He liked quidditch, I liked books and we really had few things in common other than Harry. I can only imagine if we had tried to mix a romantic relationship into our already rocky friendship.

Now here I am. Its been fourteen months since the final battle took place and I finally feel that I am beginning to heal. The lease was up on my flat and I just couldn't bring myself to sign again. The wounds were still there, but I was healing and I missed home.

There was a whole flock of hippogriffs taking flight in my stomach as I reached for the portkey. For once in my life I was making a huge change with no plan in place. As I counted down in my head, I barely had time to panic before my whole world spun and dropped me a few miles from the entrance to Diagon Alley.