Hermione stared at her hands, pretending to study them. They were staring at her. They always did. She hated going to London. As far as she knew, no other witch and wizard lived anywhere else but London in England except for Ron, her and Mrs. Luther.

She was on the metro. People in seemingly strange muggle clothes that were matched horridly, golf pants and odd-looking spandex shirts, had their eyes riveted on her. They knew who she was, one of legendary three that defeated the dark lord for good. They were the Dark Defeaters, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and of course Harry Potter. No one knew for sure how they did it, the three kept it all quiet and didn't tell a soul. And so, they made up their own version of what happened.

The story was full of heroic tales. It was told as bedtime stories for little children so they would grow up knowing how the world was before they were born, churlish and terrifying. Everyone worshipped the Dark Defeaters, but Hermione didn't want to be known for that. If she had to do it over again, she wouldn't. She wanted back all that she lost...

She flattened her bushy hair against the lightning shaped scar that was burned into her forehead, it was that they were staring at. After all the years in hiding in the countryside, she'd gotten so used to people accepting the scar as a remnant from an abusive relationship.

"King's Crossing." Quite suddenly, the doors swung open and people filtered out. She choked back her tears as she stepped on to platform 9.Her eyes drifted against her will to the barrier that separated 9 and 10. She bit her lips so hard it bled. How many times had she run through that barrier?

She didn't even know if it existed anymore. Dumbledore had finally died in her last year. Maybe that's what set Harry over the edge for good. He had been like a father to Harry, and with all the other deaths... Harry had no chance of being himself again.

Hermione passed the barrier with tears stinging her eyes, remembering her last year with pain.

She barely remembered where his apartment was; somehow she just let her feet carry her. She walked along the sidewalk, watching kids run from house to house with various colored pillowcases.

Hermione laughed. She had forgotten it was Halloween.

She stopped in front of the apartment complex. Now she remembered. He lived in number 4.

Ron and Hermione had visited him only once. They were angry with him for leaving and not telling. They were 18. How young and naive they had been.

Take a deep breath, Hermione tried to calm herself out of sight behind a corner.

"Trick or Treat!" The children cried in their excited voices.

"Look at you!" It was Harry's voice; there was no mistaking it. It was unchanged except for a hint of amusement. "A doctor, a pilot and a witch! But wait, I'm sure witches don't have a wart!"

"They don't?" Asked the witch. Her face was painted green and a huge wart was on her chin.

"No." Hermione said, walking over to the girl, smiling. "In fact I'm positive they don't."

Hermione picked the wart off the little girl's chin.

The little girl's brother smiled. "Come Anya. Let's go." He took her hand and went down the hall to the elevator, ready to conquer the next floor. The doctor and the pilot followed.

Harry's smile quickly disappeared. "What are you doing here?" He hissed.

"It's nice to see you too." She walked in to his apartment. It was plain, with white walls. There was a sofa shoved up against a bookcase and a small television in front of it. She walked over and plopped into the couch, it creaked under her weight.

"Look Hermione, I'm in no mood for games. What," he repeated. "Do you want?"

She sighed and hugged a pillow, pulling her knees to her chest. She thought she could handle it. She thought she could look him in the eye and tell her exactly why she came to him... without crying. She couldn't.

"Hermione?" He asked. His voice was less annoyed and a hint of concern that he was definitely trying to hide.

"I need your help." She said, looking up at him and wiping away tears.

"Why?"

"I came home. I just won my first case, I'm a lawyer now, and I expected Ron to be there."

"You're living with him now? What, did you just CHANGE from one lover to another?" Harry asked, malice was dripping in his voice.

"You!" She said, standing up. "You left me! I had one glorious night with you! I wanted it to last forever, BUT YOU LEFT ME! What was I supposed to think?" She walked over to the small window and watched the children bang on doors below. They didn't have a care in the world now. "I loved you, Harry." She cast his eyes upon him, glaring with a passion that he couldn't describe. "When you left... I didn't know what to do where to go. I felt alone and so used. But then there was Ron. He helped me Harry. We went to your apartment together, 3 years ago. Remember?

"I was alone and scared. So was he! I love him, I think I always had. You helped me see that."

Harry didn't look as deadly he sighed instead. "What happened."

"I came home and saw the dark mark hanging over my house."

Harry choked and turned a pale color. "What?"

"I want him back Harry. I NEED him back. I don't know what to do without him. He's all I have left. You have to help. You're the one that destroyed him last time, I know you can do it! Please Harry! Please!"

Harry regained his composure and shook his head. "No."

Hermione gasped. "You have to Harry. You can't just leave him, they'll kill him! You have to finish him, I know you don't want to kill anyone but-"

"IT'S NOT THAT HERMIONE!" Harry slammed his fist quite hard into the wall. Bits of plaster fell off and when Harry pulled his hand away, she saw it was bleeding.

"Then what is it?" She asked calmly.

"You know what happened last time." His voice was a whisper. "They killed them! They forced us to watch them MURDER your parents and the Weasly's. You saw your mother and father dying and same with Ron."

"And you think that's your fault?" She asked simply.

"Of course it is. Voldemort knew they were my friends. I'm surprised he didn't kill you and Ron. He wanted to kill me by killing everyone else I loved. It's my fault I loved them. Maybe if I'd never been born they would be alive."

Hermione was angry. "Knock it off with the pity act!" She yelled. "They chose to be your friends. Ron and I love you. The Weasleys loved you. I loved you, so my parents loved you. We all loved you. Everything in love has risks." She walked over to the door and through him his jacket. "I need you. I need you to save Ron. You know how to destroy Voldemort for good. You're the only one that can. I'm walking out of this door now. I'm going down the hall to the elevator and holding it for one minute. If you don't come in one minute, I'm letting the doors close and going after him myself. If I die then you're going to live with the fact that you killed both Ron and I." She walked out the door with a short 'good-bye'.

Hermione waited in the elevator, praying Harry would come running out any second. But he didn't. Hermione was starting to get skittish. Every time a door was opened she waited expectantly for Harry's head to pop in.

She looked at her watch.

3...2...1...

Hermione let go of the 'hold door' button. The doors closed and Hermione sank to the floor with tears in her eyes.

Harry hadn't come. Hermione was on her own.

A/N: MORE CLIFFHANGERS! *laughs madly* I'm so evil. I'll get another chapter up... before Thanksgiving. Or on it... whichever. R&R?