Harry slowly entered the kitchen and picked up the sandwich Ron had left for him. Ron Glanced up from his meal and nodded, "Good to see you up."

Harry nodded, "Hermione talked to me, I said stupid things." he took a bite of the sandwich and flashed a brief smile in approval.

Ron swallowed his bite and glanced towards the door, "Library?" he questioned.

Harry nodded, "Library." This typically is how their conversations went; they weren't dense by any means. Their conversations on girls, quidditch, politics, and the big bad were quite intense. But the taboo topics, including emotions they both tended to avoid. Hermione was the only one with the guts, or more accurately the heart, to force those issues on the table.

Ron poured Harry a glass of pumpkin juice and handed it to him "You gonna follow her?"

Harry shook his head, "Not yet, she needs her books."

Hermione walked to the library a few blocks away. It was one of the reasons she'd pushed so hard to get the boys to pick the flat they shared. It was nice being so close to work, but it was nicer being so close to books.

Many would argue of course that they were one in the same, her job after all was head researcher at the library. It was a job similar to Hermione actually; half muggle half wizard.

Half of her job was simple supervise the library and assist the students from the university that came by occasionally looking for information only found in her old dusty books. The other half was the decoding, protection and translating of texts, mostly of magical origin, though a few muggle books would occasionally make it into her stack of books.

She could apparate into a closet in her office which was the only place apparation wards weren't activated, today however she felt like walking. Hermione's parents had been killed by the war.

An important difference to note is they were not killed in the war or for the war. Her parents were quite happy with their simple lives as dentists, and Hermione was happy they were out of harm. The Sunday they died was the same as any other Sunday; her mom was making pancakes and her father went outside to get the newspaper.

They weren't aware of the war her daughter was waged in miles away. Not many muggles were and she hated to worry her parents more than necessary.

It is still mainly theory as to what happened. After all the laws of physics were clear, and even magic had to follow it. Energy cannot be created or destroyed. The magical energy that had once existed in the man who brought about so much pain and suffering was freed and let loose among society. It caused much havoc, but the main thing it caused was a freak earthquake that hit London.

Hermione's parents were one of the many who died because of it. It was pure coincidence that they were where they were when it happened. Yes, in a way Voldemort killed her parents, but in a way so did Harry. In a way Hermione herself was responsible for the death of the only family who cared.

Hermione abandoned what was left of her parents house leaving everything of hers in there. She'd let the government sort through that mess. She wanted nothing of the muggle world anymore, a world she obviously didn't belong in. She sought refuge in her books, and her friends. She became dependent on Ron and Harry. She focused her energy on her job and trying to keep them happy. She received most of her happiness from seeing them smile. They were still the golden trio.

Slowly she was re-entering the muggle world, but it was mainly her love of the musty library that linked her to what she once was. As she entered the library she inhaled deeply calming her nerves. She knew she had slightly overreacted with Harry, but he knows she can be a little testy hen it comes to closure. The closure she never received when it came to her parents. She was instantly placated as the subtle scent of musty paper filled her lungs. The scent that let her know she had arrived.

Smiling she said her hello's quickly to the librarian stationed at the front and the security guard near the restrooms. She didn't bother with names, which was usually her strong point, but today she wanted to lose herself in her work. The sooner she reached her work the sooner she'd be able to sink herself into it.

She entered her office and locked the door, she didn't bother with the deadbolt she knew her spell was more effective. She glanced at the stack of letters and sighed. People never seemed to send things to her home address, thinking she was here more often anyway. She opened the envelopes carefully.

Overall it was the same mail as always, several offers for a subscription to Witch Weekly for only 3 knuts a week. There was ripped piece of parchment which Viktor had scrawled, "Paris is beautiful. Wish you were here." The note was a classic Viktor note, simple and sweet, yet no fluff.

Their relationship had ended on mutual terms, and left both of them wishing. Hermione wished that he could have been the one, and Viktor simply wished they could have worked out somehow. It wasn't that he was deeply, madly in love with her, she knew that. He simply wasn't used to people paying attention to him instead of his fame. He had finally found the right lady though, he had been dating Cho Chang for a few months now due to an introduction by Hermione herself.

Hermione quickly sorted through the parchments now that they were out of the envelopes. She quickly cast a spell to sort them and each went in its own pile: merits reply, file appropriately, trash, or wrong address. Finally satisfied with the order of things she sifted through the merits reply pile.

The letters were mostly correspondence with her classmates at Hogwarts and a few invitations to festivities that etiquette required she at least make an appearance at. Pavarti's 21st birthday was something she might enjoy if Ron and Harry planned on attending.

Blaise was holding a four year reunion party for their class which was very like the quiet ex-slytherin he loved finding excuses for drunken orgies.

Malfoy manor was holding an 'intimate get together,' which meant everyone was invited. Narcissa however had been an excellent ally in the war, her donations to the side of good had cost her much more than galleons. Hermione was still not fond of the cold manor, plus the extremely short notice. She was not shockingly free tomorrow night and hence for Narcissa she would attend.

She quickly filled out the RSVP parchments and gave them to one of the library's tawny owls, murmuring a thank you to the bird before burying herself in the old Egyptian book she was trying to decode.