(A/N) My grandfather died the other day, so I haven't been updating, but I'll try to get over it so I can update the story. By the way, this chapter is just background for what has happened over the six years that followed after he ran away from Hogwarts.

It had been six long and painful years for Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. He had taken up becoming an Auror after he graduated from the "specialized" schooling that he received after he had ran away from Hermione and Hogwarts. Dumbledore had Harry move in with Sirius, who taught harry everything that he would've learned in school, and more. Since Harry refused to neglect his other studies besides Defense Against the Dark Arts, he still had to make trips to Diagon Ally for all of the school supplies he would've needed, he just enacted those classes with Sirius.

Along with regular Hogwarts training, Sirius trained Harry in Muggle ways of fighting. Poisons and short projectiles became familiar friends to Harry. With a dagger, Harry could nail a target fifty feet away. He kept a dagger in each of his boots, along with specialized dual ninja stars in the folds of his robes inside of his sleeves. Harry didn't exactly excel at physically fighting with just his bare fists, but he could hold his own, for a while.

Harry had sent Hermione only one acknowledgment that he knew she still was alive. He had sent his owl, Hedwig, to Hermione. Hedwig's eyes had watered the day he sent her, which Harry had correctly assumed to be tears. Hedwig was supposed to report immediately to Harry if anything were to happen to Hermione. He still loved her, but after their last argument, he wasn't anxious for a reunion even after all these years.

Harry's job as an Auror had somewhat put a damper on his Quidditch spirits. Harry no longer played officially, but he still practiced in whatever small amounts of spare time he had. Harry didn't really play Quidditch with as much enthusiasm as when Ron was alive. Harry felt that was when his Quidditch spirit had died. Every year, Harry stopped by Ron's grave and put an almanac on Ron's grave that had all of those years Quidditch statistics.

Being an Auror did make Harry feel better though. His partner was Sirius, and they hid almost nothing from each other. However, even with all of Sirius' years of experience, it was quite common knowledge that Harry was easily the better Auror. In fact, Harry had surpassed Mad-Eye Moody last year as the Ministry's best Auror. He had caught over 150 Death-Eaters, which was impressive, but with Voldemort still on the loose, they were all easily replaced.

The war with Voldemort was somewhat at a standoff. No one knew where Voldemort's hideout was, but at the same time, Voldemort wouldn't (or perhaps couldn't) take over Hogwarts. The Ministry, after finally realizing the threat that Voldemort was back, sacked Cornelius Fudge (who died a day later), and made a person by the name of Seth Zerbinski, the Minister of Magic. The new Minister acted swiftly and accurately. The giants were granted pardons for their previous crimes, and were welcomed back to society. The Dementors were all driven out of Azkaban, and into the depths of the earth so deep, that even Voldemort couldn't reach them.

The only thing Harry was uncertain of was Hermione. He knew she was a teacher at Hogwarts, taking over Professor McGonagall in Transfiguration. It took Harry as a surprise. He thought she'd go for Arithmancy, but apparently not. He had pictures of her all over his room at the house that Sirius and Harry shared. She had grown even more beautiful. Her brown bushy hair was tamed so that it wasn't as free-willed as it once was, but just enough so that you thought she was carefree. Her brown eyes were lovely pools that Harry could drown in, even through just the pictures. She had filled out in the breasts, but no where else. She was now about 5' 8", and looked luscious.

Every night, Harry would take a picture off of his walls and hold it close to his heart as he drifted off to sleep. Every night he would dream the same dream. Him and Hermione in a flowering clearing in a forest. The grass would be green, and the flowers would be bright reds, blues, and yellows. They would run towards each other, and embrace. They would gently pull slightly apart, but only enough to kiss. As their lips would touch, Harry would awaken in the morning, with tears pouring from his eyes.

(A/N) This chapter, as noted before, is only for background. I will be writing the next chapter shortly. The faster you want me to update, the more reviews I want. I like hearing what you guys think, good or bad. Thanks.