Summary: An unexpected visit brings unexpected and unwanted memories back to
Hermione. Will she go back to the world that she swore to stay away from, or
will she face her past and heal old wounds?
Disclaimer: Although I am obsessed with Harry Potter and Co., I do not own them.
Although I wish I could have just one paycheck from JK Rowling, I don't get any
money from them. I promise to be nice and play gently with them, since they are
not mine.
Where We Live
Chapter 2
The days following the defeat of Voldemort were the most bleak Hermione could
remember. The effects of the plan were discussed in lengthy detail. It was
unknown as to how the culmination of the war was going to affect the wizarding
world, as many of its prominent citizens were either dead or in Azkaban.
Hermione was only able to attend a few of these briefings, learning of the
incidents, which led to the deaths of so many renowned witches and wizards. It
was such a simple idea, planned to perfection. The target was to kill Voldemort,
which they, actually Harry, had succeeded in doing. Getting to Voldemort was the
most difficult, as he was well protected by the inner circle of Death Eaters.
Voldemort had planned to take his attacks into an all out war. He and his Death
Eaters attacked Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, Godric's Hollow, and Canterbury at the
same time. The wizarding world did not know what hit them. Had it not been for
Severus Snape, they would have been caught unawares. Wizarding teams made up of
some of the most powerful men and women in the wizarding community were
dispatched to each of these towns in order to minimize the damage that was being
wrought. Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonogall, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin,
Severus Snape, and Harry Potter were tagged to go directly after Voldemort.
Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and other students and teachers from Hogwarts
were to "take care of" the Death Eater's reeking havoc in Diagon Alley. The
battles were gloriously and heroically fought, and although Hermione was still
in disbelief of everything that had occurred, she was honored to have fought
with the best.
The final count of the number of witches and wizards lost was still being
compiled. It wasn't just the illustrious Order of the Phoenix, who fought, but
civilians; moms, dads, shop keepers, students. It was the most amazing, yet
unbelievable thing she had ever witnessed. It still felt unreal. The war, while
she had been a part of it, was now feeling like a bad dream. She was living a
bad dream.
Days later, she could barely remember her words to Professor Snape that night.
"Professor, where is everyone?" He didn't answer her. He caught her as she
tripped, asked her if she could walk, and together they stumbled into what was
once Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Once inside, they tried to heal their
less serious wounds, using water from the kitchen to clean them. Neither one
spoke, as they did not want to give away their position, just in case. When he
asked her whether or not she would be able to apparate, she had barely heard
him. Thankfully, the Ministry approved apparition lessons for everyone over the
age of sixteen. They apparated to Hogwarts. At that moment in time, she couldn't
have been more elated at the sight, and that was saying something.
At Hogwarts, Hermione was treated by Madam Pomfrey and kept in the infirmary
until she nearly went mindless with despair. She had learned from Professor
Snape, that everyone she loved was lost. She learned that Harry had to sacrifice
himself in order to kill Voldemort, and Ron had died by jumping in front of a
curse meant for Ginny. After Ron died, they killed Ginny anyway. Hermione still
hadn't figured out how she escaped. She knew that the plan had been carried out
flawlessly. The plan...the fucking plan. If it was so perfect, how in the hell
did everyone die? Everyone but her. He told her that she was a hero. A fucking
hero. Well, she didn't feel like one. Hero's didn't cry, and it seemed that she
couldn't stop.
It seemed that he understood her, though. On some basic level, when she screamed
and cursed and threw things, he knew where she was coming from. He had held her
during her most violent crying spells and soothed her in hushed tones. He
listened while she spoke about how much she missed Harry, Ron, and Ginny. She
thought he understood when she spoke of her guilt for living while they and many
more died. He knew how it felt when the world was celebrating while you were
crying, isolated in your own personal hell, that you can't escape. He felt it,
too.
All she knew was that she lost everyone. It was hard to feel pleased when so
many were dead. There was nothing for her anymore. The know-it-all of Gryffindor
felt like she didn't know anything. Not anything important. She knew books,
hell, she could recite from heart the uses for monkshood or aconite, but she
didn't know how to live after a war. She didn't know and didn't care about the
niceties of heroism. She knew that all of her friends were dead. Dead. Not
coming back. Harry, whose courage and strength she constantly marveled at, and
Ron, whose loyalty and daring was unmatched. Her best friends, her brothers.
Dead. And countless others, Ginny, her best girlfriend, the only one she could
share her secret crushes with, Neville, Seamus, Lavender, McGonagall, Vector,
Sprout, Flintwick. The list goes on and on. All dead. And in her head, all she
could think of was how in the hell did she make it out alive.
She had to get out of there. She couldn't take it. She knew that she would never
be left alone. After all, she was a fucking hero now. She wasn't sure where she
would go; her parents had been killed by Death Eater's last summer in a ploy to
get at her and more importantly Harry through her. She just wanted to get away,
to never come back. To be drowned in a river of anonymity. The only way was to
become a muggle. It was, in fact, a brilliant option, one that offered her
everything she wanted.
It wasn't a difficult decision to make, once she thought about it. She had
plenty of money and a house. She could sell it and buy a cottage in the country.
She could read and garden all day long, maybe teach at a local school. She could
go to university and do something with her life besides cry and curse. But she
needed help, and knew that there was only one person she could trust to help
her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The walk to the dungeons never felt so long. She shivered and pulled her cloak
more closely around her. She couldn't figure out if it was the drop in
temperature or her nervousness that made her tremble. She knew that if she
didn't ask for his help, that she wouldn't be able to make the change. It was
now or never.
The large oak doors at the entrance of the room, stood tall and proud, as
intimidating as the man inside. She raised her hand and knocked swiftly before
she changed her mind.
"Come in," the voice inside barked. She guessed that he was not in a good mood,
but figured that he probably never sounded cheerful when he was being
interrupted. She slowly opened the door, peeking her head inside.
"Professor, I...I need to speak with you, if you have a moment," she stammered.
Damn, she didn't know why she was so nervous; he had seen her at her worst. He
looked up expectantly and she continued. "Professor, I was thinking...I would
like to move away from here. I think, no, I am going to move back to the muggle
world. There is nothing here for me anymore, and I can't take the constant
reminders of what once was. I can't live in the shadow of my former self.
I...I'll go crazy." She rushed through it before she could stop herself to
thing.
"You've made this decision already?" he asked.
"Yes."
"What do you need from me?" He asked.
What she wanted from him, she was sure that she wasn't going to get. She seldom
received any kind of praise or encouragement from this man, but somehow, deep
inside, she knew she needed to please him. She needed his blessing. It was all
she had to take with her. "Please sir, I just need to know that, that I am
making the right decision."
"Indeed. Miss Granger, Hermione...it's time you do what you think is right. You
are not a child anymore. You have fought in a great war; you are the lone
survivor of your house. This is your decision to make. Not anybody else's, and
certainly not mine. Yours. I will assist if I can."
"Thank you, sir," she said. In that little speech, he had empowered her to do
what she knew she needed to without the guilt of being a heroine and leaving the
wizarding world. She knew in her heart of hearts that once she said goodbye, she
was not coming back. As she pulled the door closed, she stopped, looked at
Professor Snape and said, "Goodbye, Severus." She gently closed the door, and
walked back to the tower, with tears silently rolling down her face.
Hermione. Will she go back to the world that she swore to stay away from, or
will she face her past and heal old wounds?
Disclaimer: Although I am obsessed with Harry Potter and Co., I do not own them.
Although I wish I could have just one paycheck from JK Rowling, I don't get any
money from them. I promise to be nice and play gently with them, since they are
not mine.
Where We Live
Chapter 2
The days following the defeat of Voldemort were the most bleak Hermione could
remember. The effects of the plan were discussed in lengthy detail. It was
unknown as to how the culmination of the war was going to affect the wizarding
world, as many of its prominent citizens were either dead or in Azkaban.
Hermione was only able to attend a few of these briefings, learning of the
incidents, which led to the deaths of so many renowned witches and wizards. It
was such a simple idea, planned to perfection. The target was to kill Voldemort,
which they, actually Harry, had succeeded in doing. Getting to Voldemort was the
most difficult, as he was well protected by the inner circle of Death Eaters.
Voldemort had planned to take his attacks into an all out war. He and his Death
Eaters attacked Diagon Alley, Hogsmeade, Godric's Hollow, and Canterbury at the
same time. The wizarding world did not know what hit them. Had it not been for
Severus Snape, they would have been caught unawares. Wizarding teams made up of
some of the most powerful men and women in the wizarding community were
dispatched to each of these towns in order to minimize the damage that was being
wrought. Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonogall, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin,
Severus Snape, and Harry Potter were tagged to go directly after Voldemort.
Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville, and other students and teachers from Hogwarts
were to "take care of" the Death Eater's reeking havoc in Diagon Alley. The
battles were gloriously and heroically fought, and although Hermione was still
in disbelief of everything that had occurred, she was honored to have fought
with the best.
The final count of the number of witches and wizards lost was still being
compiled. It wasn't just the illustrious Order of the Phoenix, who fought, but
civilians; moms, dads, shop keepers, students. It was the most amazing, yet
unbelievable thing she had ever witnessed. It still felt unreal. The war, while
she had been a part of it, was now feeling like a bad dream. She was living a
bad dream.
Days later, she could barely remember her words to Professor Snape that night.
"Professor, where is everyone?" He didn't answer her. He caught her as she
tripped, asked her if she could walk, and together they stumbled into what was
once Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Once inside, they tried to heal their
less serious wounds, using water from the kitchen to clean them. Neither one
spoke, as they did not want to give away their position, just in case. When he
asked her whether or not she would be able to apparate, she had barely heard
him. Thankfully, the Ministry approved apparition lessons for everyone over the
age of sixteen. They apparated to Hogwarts. At that moment in time, she couldn't
have been more elated at the sight, and that was saying something.
At Hogwarts, Hermione was treated by Madam Pomfrey and kept in the infirmary
until she nearly went mindless with despair. She had learned from Professor
Snape, that everyone she loved was lost. She learned that Harry had to sacrifice
himself in order to kill Voldemort, and Ron had died by jumping in front of a
curse meant for Ginny. After Ron died, they killed Ginny anyway. Hermione still
hadn't figured out how she escaped. She knew that the plan had been carried out
flawlessly. The plan...the fucking plan. If it was so perfect, how in the hell
did everyone die? Everyone but her. He told her that she was a hero. A fucking
hero. Well, she didn't feel like one. Hero's didn't cry, and it seemed that she
couldn't stop.
It seemed that he understood her, though. On some basic level, when she screamed
and cursed and threw things, he knew where she was coming from. He had held her
during her most violent crying spells and soothed her in hushed tones. He
listened while she spoke about how much she missed Harry, Ron, and Ginny. She
thought he understood when she spoke of her guilt for living while they and many
more died. He knew how it felt when the world was celebrating while you were
crying, isolated in your own personal hell, that you can't escape. He felt it,
too.
All she knew was that she lost everyone. It was hard to feel pleased when so
many were dead. There was nothing for her anymore. The know-it-all of Gryffindor
felt like she didn't know anything. Not anything important. She knew books,
hell, she could recite from heart the uses for monkshood or aconite, but she
didn't know how to live after a war. She didn't know and didn't care about the
niceties of heroism. She knew that all of her friends were dead. Dead. Not
coming back. Harry, whose courage and strength she constantly marveled at, and
Ron, whose loyalty and daring was unmatched. Her best friends, her brothers.
Dead. And countless others, Ginny, her best girlfriend, the only one she could
share her secret crushes with, Neville, Seamus, Lavender, McGonagall, Vector,
Sprout, Flintwick. The list goes on and on. All dead. And in her head, all she
could think of was how in the hell did she make it out alive.
She had to get out of there. She couldn't take it. She knew that she would never
be left alone. After all, she was a fucking hero now. She wasn't sure where she
would go; her parents had been killed by Death Eater's last summer in a ploy to
get at her and more importantly Harry through her. She just wanted to get away,
to never come back. To be drowned in a river of anonymity. The only way was to
become a muggle. It was, in fact, a brilliant option, one that offered her
everything she wanted.
It wasn't a difficult decision to make, once she thought about it. She had
plenty of money and a house. She could sell it and buy a cottage in the country.
She could read and garden all day long, maybe teach at a local school. She could
go to university and do something with her life besides cry and curse. But she
needed help, and knew that there was only one person she could trust to help
her.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The walk to the dungeons never felt so long. She shivered and pulled her cloak
more closely around her. She couldn't figure out if it was the drop in
temperature or her nervousness that made her tremble. She knew that if she
didn't ask for his help, that she wouldn't be able to make the change. It was
now or never.
The large oak doors at the entrance of the room, stood tall and proud, as
intimidating as the man inside. She raised her hand and knocked swiftly before
she changed her mind.
"Come in," the voice inside barked. She guessed that he was not in a good mood,
but figured that he probably never sounded cheerful when he was being
interrupted. She slowly opened the door, peeking her head inside.
"Professor, I...I need to speak with you, if you have a moment," she stammered.
Damn, she didn't know why she was so nervous; he had seen her at her worst. He
looked up expectantly and she continued. "Professor, I was thinking...I would
like to move away from here. I think, no, I am going to move back to the muggle
world. There is nothing here for me anymore, and I can't take the constant
reminders of what once was. I can't live in the shadow of my former self.
I...I'll go crazy." She rushed through it before she could stop herself to
thing.
"You've made this decision already?" he asked.
"Yes."
"What do you need from me?" He asked.
What she wanted from him, she was sure that she wasn't going to get. She seldom
received any kind of praise or encouragement from this man, but somehow, deep
inside, she knew she needed to please him. She needed his blessing. It was all
she had to take with her. "Please sir, I just need to know that, that I am
making the right decision."
"Indeed. Miss Granger, Hermione...it's time you do what you think is right. You
are not a child anymore. You have fought in a great war; you are the lone
survivor of your house. This is your decision to make. Not anybody else's, and
certainly not mine. Yours. I will assist if I can."
"Thank you, sir," she said. In that little speech, he had empowered her to do
what she knew she needed to without the guilt of being a heroine and leaving the
wizarding world. She knew in her heart of hearts that once she said goodbye, she
was not coming back. As she pulled the door closed, she stopped, looked at
Professor Snape and said, "Goodbye, Severus." She gently closed the door, and
walked back to the tower, with tears silently rolling down her face.