She left the next morning, owling her resignation to Kingsley with a note of regret and a sincere apology. He had found her before she had been able to get too far, making her promise to stay in touch; he expected to hear from her at least once a month, he said, or he'd come and find her. She agreed, it seemed like her best bet and really, she'd miss him. Kingsley wasn't the Minister of Magic to her, he was Kings, the man who had fought beside her, taught her spells in Grimmauld place, kept her safe on the back of that damn thestral. He was like an honorary Uncle in many ways and it would be strange not to see him regularly as she was used to.
But she needed a clean break. The wizarding world, while in many ways wonderful, had not been so for her and she was tired. Tired of having to work harder than anyone else to prove her worth, tired of fighting, tired of continually being told she wasn't good enough. Harry and Ron were just the last straw.
She made her way into muggle London, wondering where to go next. Several train rides later she found herself in Edinburgh. It was far enough away that she was unlikely to bump into anyone and she had no ties to the place so no one would look for her here. Not that she expected anyone to be looking.
She settled herself in a tiny flat with a view of the Castle. She'd fallen in love with it immediately, making a serious dent in her Order of Merlin award money to buy it. It was worth every penny. She warded it, too used to having the wards up now to feel safe without them, no one would find her here unless she wanted them too. And for the first time in a long time, she felt at peace.
News of Hermione Granger's disappearance hit the headlines before she'd been gone a week, many speculated on her whereabouts, surely the brightest witch of the age wouldn't just abandon the world she'd fought so hard to save. Ron was in his element, giving interview after interview about how the Golden Girl was nothing but a money grabbing shrew. Many believed it.
But with each interview the strain around the-boy-who-lived's eyes deepened, and he began to wonder if maybe Hermione hadn't been telling the truth. With each interview, Ron seemed less and less upset about her disappearance, revelling in the fame it brought him. He was nothing like the friend he had been and the change was disconcerting.
George had been the one to confront them after it became apparent Hermione and Ron weren't together any more. He had been incensed when Harry had told him what each of them had said.
"And you believed him?" he'd screamed at him. "You actually believed that Hermione cared about the fucking money? She had a decent job, Harry, money from her parents, money from the Order of Merlin and money coming from me for the products she helped with. Why would she give a fuck about the money?"
That had pulled him up short, he'd forgotten Hermione had stayed with George for a while while he was falling apart after Fred's death. He'd forgotten she'd helped him with his product line as she encouraged him to rebuild the store, slowly helping him put himself back together again. To find George, when all he'd known was being The Twins.
He'd hesitantly voiced that maybe that was the problem, she had all that money and Ron was still on a trainee wage.
George had scoffed at him, looking at him like he'd never seen him before and replied "Ron also has the Order of Merlin money, and after next year he'll be on a full aurors wage. Why bring it up now? And when, ever, has Hermione given you the impression she cared about money?"
And he'd been forced to admit that he had a point, but Ron had seemed genuinely upset, why would he have done that if it wasn't true?
George still wasn't speaking to them, devastated by the loss of the witch he saw as a little sister, especially after all the other losses they'd sustained. Harry hadn't been brave enough to ask if he'd heard anything from her. He hadn't expected her to disappear, still it had only been a week, maybe she'd just gone on holiday for a bit to get herself back together. She'd come back, she always did. It would be fine.
Two weeks after Hermione had left, he was confronted with Lavender Brown at the Burrow dinner table, looking incredibly cosy on Ron's arm. He'd overheard them laughing at how they'd ran Hermione off, commenting on her lack of Gryffindor bravery in the face of her humiliation at being unable to keep a man. It made him want to be sick, realising that he'd done it again, chosen Ron over Hermione and to make it worse, she hadn't even been surprised.
And as the weeks turned into months, Harry began to accept that it wasn't going to be fine. She wasn't coming back and it was his fault. George was still not speaking to him, although he'd heard via Percy that Hermione had at least been in touch with him, apologising for not letting him know she was going, inviting him to see her new place. He'd gone apparently, told Percy she was settled and happy but he wasn't going to say any more. Harry had tentatively asked Percy if maybe he should owl her causing Percy to laugh, although it held no humour. Apparently Hermione had mentioned that she had warded against owls and taught George how to use the muggle post system, so he shouldn't bother. Dejected, Harry had given in. He'd been a terrible friend to the woman who had always been there, and now, he had to live with it.
Severus had been next to Minerva when the story of Hermione's disappearance broke. The woman's noise of dismay was enough to startle him out of his usual silence.
"Are you well, Minerva?"
"Miss Granger, Hermione. She's left."
He arched a brow at her. "That is hardly news Minerva, Hagrid said as much a week ago."
"No, Severus. They're saying she's left our world. Resigned from the Ministry. Kingsley is quoted here, saying he knows where she is and that for now, she's not coming back."
He looked at Minerva in shock. She had always been so stubborn, so damn headstrong, he couldn't quite believe she'd leave over the breakdown of a relationship. It didn't make sense. It made him wonder what else had been going on. Surely she'd come back, she was a witch after all. Although, leaving didn't mean she hadn't gone to another magical community, he knew many of the other Ministries had taken an active interest in procuring the brightest witch of the age, especially after her NEWT results were released to back up the claim. Although if they had, someone would have heard of it, he was sure. And there was no mention of it in the papers. Maybe it would come. If she was working for another Ministry someone would be gloating and the papers would pick it up. They'd hear soon enough. It was the only thing that made sense.
"I see." was all he said to Minerva, who went back to reading the article as if it would shed more light.
"I wish she had come to me." he heard the Headmistress whisper.
And while he would never admit it out loud, he agreed.
Hermione was exhausted. Tourist season was in full swing and the shop was busy. She really needed to hire some more staff but there was never enough time. Despite her well documented love of books, she'd never seen herself running a book store and yet, here she was. It wasn't a decision she'd ever regretted, A New Chapter had been her safe haven when she was adjusting to her new life. It stocked every type of book she could think of, with cosy little seating areas and a tiny cafe, it was everything she loved in a book shop. But it was hard, far harder than she'd expected, not the customers, those tended to be lovely, but the long hours, and the paperwork were slowly killing her.
She just wanted to sleep. Not that it would be happening, she had several more orders to place before going home. It would be worth it in the end, it would have to be. She wasn't alone any more, she had someone who relied on her making this work. It was the reason she hadn't given in the first time she'd had to brave filling out a Tax return.
That thought made her laugh, if only they could see her now. Hermione Granger, brightest witch of the age, stupid enough to forget contraception, almost beaten by HMRC. Not that it mattered, not really, Cordelia was the best thing in her life and she would make sure she could give her everything she could ever wish for, even if it meant living on less sleep than should be physically possible.
She thanked the Gods again for the money that meant she had been able to move when it became clear that she wasn't suffering from some horribly long lasting bug. Leaving her flat had been a wrench, but she needed more space now, especially with the nanny that had quickly become a necessity as she tried to juggle both her daughter and the shop.
Helen Jones, a squib Kings had put her in touch with, had become one of Hermione's favourite people. Older than her by several decades, the woman had fit seamlessly into their lives, agreeing to live in due to the unpredictable nature of Hermione's work, especially during the madness that was The Festival, her own children long since grown.
She had made it her mission to take care of Hermione alongside her charge, and Hermione would forever be grateful. Cordelia adored the woman as well, having no other family, baring Kings and George who were still very much present in her life, she looked up to her like a surrogate Grandmother rather than a nanny.
At two, Cordelia was her mother in miniature, the man who had sired her as lacking in her features as he was in her life. She was intelligent, bossy and stubborn, but unlike Hermione, she was a social butterfly, with many little friends made from the various groups and classes Helen took her to. She was the driving force behind everything Hermione did, one look at her daughter reminded her why she fought so hard to keep going when she often didn't want to drag herself into another day fuelled only by coffee.
And so, Hermione continued to brave publishers, entitled authors, tax returns and late nights during high season, dreaming of the slight lull in autumn before the madness of Christmas began. Her life looked nothing like she thought it would but she was happy, lonely at times, but happy and really, she had everything she needed right here.
The day Harry Potter handed in his auror badge made national headlines. He'd known it would, but he was tired. Tired of missing out on his family, James was almost three, Albus two and he felt like he never saw them, he was on missions so often. It wasn't what he wanted for his children, so he'd resigned after a chat with Headmistress McGonagall, agreeing to take up the defence post. It would be a change of pace but he was looking forward to it. Ginny's look of relief when he had told her his plans had been enough for him to know that he was making the right decision. They had all lived through too much for him to make her worry constantly that he wasn't coming home.
Being back in the castle was slightly jarring, especially as he was now the professor. Addressing those professors who had taught him for six years by their given names left him feeling distinctly uncomfortable.
The brief "You'll get used to it, Harry", from Minerva, hadn't been as reassuring as he was sure she'd hoped, he couldn't imagine a world where he would ever get used to calling Snape, Severus. Not that he spoke to him often, the man's glower was enough to prevent him getting too close. Still, he was glad to be back, even if it was strange and Neville was slightly cool with him. He had been since Hermione left, Hannah had apparently told him how upset she'd been and about their conversation, neither of them had remembered silencing charms.
He wasn't sure if Neville was in touch with her, maybe he was, he knew George was. It had been five years since he last saw her and he missed her more than he had thought possible only realising how much he had taken her for granted after she had gone.
His relationship with Ron was non-existent, he hadn't been able to face him after discovering Hermione had been telling the truth. They met at family occasions at the Burrow, Ron having married Lavender and had three children, he couldn't avoid it but they were barely civil. Even now, Ron or Lavender would occasionally make a comment about Hermione that would have George having to be held in place by Angie and Harry curling his fists at his side.
He sighed as he went over his class plans again, wishing Hermione was here to look over them; she always was better at planning than he was. He still hoped she'd come back but it was looking less and less likely.
George told him very little. She was happy, her life was good, she was settled. Meaningless words that didn't really tell him anything at all. He'd asked George to take a letter of apology one year, not long after she left but he'd refused. Told him he'd had enough chances, it was time to leave Hermione alone, if she wanted to contact him she would. He'd pass on that he was sorry but that was all he was willing to do; what Hermione done with it would be up to her. And as he hadn't heard a word from her there was no misunderstanding her decision. She had finally had enough. And he hated it.
When Minerva had told him she'd hired Potter, he had almost quit. But he had nowhere to go, Hogwarts had been his first home and thanks to Albus' manipulations, he'd never really left. So he'd stayed, watching the-boy-who-lived-to-annoy-him swan about the castle, interrupting his peace. He'd noticed Longbottom giving the boy a wide berth, that was interesting. Maybe he'd bring it up the next time they met for chess.
Neville Longbottom had been a surprising revelation to Severus. No longer the cowed little boy of his school years, Severus had felt compelled to apologise for his behaviour when the boy had returned to complete his apprenticeship. The look of shock that had graced the boy's features had amused him for some time afterwards. They had managed a tentative friendship once Longbottom had joined the staff, which was still baffling but the boy, man, was surprisingly good company. His potions skill was practically zero but he made up for it with his vast knowledge of the plants Severus often used and he had surprised himself by requesting Longbottom's assistance when he happened to be looking for an ingredient with particular properties. He had never been disappointed.
"You look like you're trying to solve all the world's problems, Severus!" The very man he had been thinking of interrupted his musings.
He arched a brow. "Had I been so inclined to fix the world, Mr Longbottom, I would have figured out a solution before now. As it is, I'm too tired to be bothered. It's Friday, after all, world fixing should be saved for a Monday."
The boy grinned at him. "Chess?"
He dipped his head in acquiescence, watching as the boy set up the board.
"How has your week been, Severus? Ready for the return of the students?"
"Quiet, just the way I like it. And no, Mr Longbottom, I am not. I would be perfectly happy if the little sods just stayed at home."
Snorting, Neville responded, "I've told you to call me Neville, Severus. It's been years. Mr Longbottom makes me feel simultaneously old and like I'm back at school!"
Rolling his eyes "If you are old, Neville, then I must be practically dead."
"Not quite yet, Severus. You've at least a couple of decades of students to terrorise first."
A reluctant smile twitched at the corner of his lips. "Indeed."
They played in silence for a while, both deep in concentration, neither willing to concede a loss to the other. At Severus' checkmate an hour later, Neville grinned. "Damn. I was sure this one was mine. Never mind. Rematch tomorrow?"
"I'll be here. Although I believe there are plans to welcome our newest family to the castle properly."
At Neville's grimace he continued "I was under the impression you and Mr Potter were friends?"
The boy sighed. "We were, once. But having heard how he treats his friends, I can't say I'm hugely fond of him currently."
Severus arched a brow as Neville rolled his eyes. "You could just ask directly, you know? He's the reason Hermione left. Obviously Ron had a lot to do with it, bastard that he is, but Harry taking his side, again, well. It was the straw that broke the camel's back from what George says. She felt like she had no one left to keep her here and she was tired of having to prove her worth, so she left. I don't think it was anywhere near that simple but the end result is the same."
"What makes you say that?"
"Hermione's parents' memories couldn't be restored '' at his look of confusion Neville continued "she obliviated them and sent them to Australia during the war. She was worried about Death Eaters getting to them and no one in the Order was offering to help so she took matters into her own hands. She had hoped she'd be able to restore their memories once it was over and it was safe for them to return but the Healers in Australia said it would never happen. She was devastated. And then there was everything that happened during the war, she was always the worst hurt out of the three of them, not that Harry or Ron ever admitted that. To then find Ron in bed with Lavender and have Harry take his side? I think it was all too much in too short a time. If the situation with Ron had happened five years down the line, she might have stayed. She has friends here, George stays in touch, as does Kings. Hannah and I are meeting her next week before the students come back. I've missed her, she was my first friend. I hadn't realised anyone knew where she was until I bumped into George last week and he slipped up. All my owls returned, although George says she's warded her house against them, so I suppose that makes sense. She taught him how to use the muggle post system and bought him something called a mobile phone? Either way, I'm hoping she'll teach me, I don't want to lose touch again."
Severus sat silently contemplating that information. It made sense, far more sense than the woman just leaving because of a failed relationship. He had thought of her often during the five years she'd been absent. He knew Minerva had too, feeling inexplicably guilty that she hadn't felt she could come to her for help.
"Give her my best." He said finally, noting Neville's look of surprise. "The annoying witch saved my life and forced me to recover. I owe her. And, if you could, ask her to owl Minerva. The woman misses her."
Neville smiled gently. "I'll try."