Thanks so much to those who reviewed. If you didn't last time well here's your chance. Just click the little button at the bottom left hand corner of the screen ;) Ta!

Melwasul- Sirius is alive as I just cant bare the fact that he's dead :) I love his character and his is just too fun to write (I love the way he and Severus play off one another!) so my story is set differently to Order of the Pheonix. I actually started writing it out before the book came out (I just had to work up the courage to put it on the net). Am thinking of writing a Severus OC with Sirius dead. What do u think? Thanks for reviewing!

Nevillefan- LOVE the name! Yeah I thought both were a bit too nice. Severus is nicer cause he has less stress cause well you'll find out soon ;) and I'm gonna try and make Sirius less refined. He's way better (sexier) when he's a bit scruffier.

Profion- Glad to hear you liked the story and I will continue until all my reviewers boo me off the stage or the screen or wateva. Thanks again!

AN- I do not own Harry Potter but I would love to own Sirius. Ha ha! RIP Snuffles. *sobs*

Chapter 3

Hermione Granger looked around the small apartment that she had called home for the last 4 years. The bare wooden floors were spotless, the walls without blemish, and the bed and bookcase totally bare. The room showed no signs that not long ago it had been the living quarters of an intelligent, hardworking young woman.

Hermione sighed. To tell the truth, she really didn't like change and this move to Hogwarts was actually quite a huge one. At Hogwarts she'd always kept the same friends (Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley), had never mingled with others that were not in her house, had always kept the same routine, and was one of those people that was described by others as stable and reliable. And, though she had had her fair share of adventures, mainly due to Harry and Ron, this had actually become quite routine as well. Every year Harry got himself in a spot of trouble, Ron and Hermione would come along for support, they'd manage to scrape through whatever tight spot they got themselves into, and would eventually come out of the venture fine. There were of course exceptions to this rule, but the point was that the three had not been called Magnificent Three for nothing.

Then, in their last year at Hogwarts, Voldemort and his liege of Deatheaters had attacked the school. Thanks to Snape, the Order had been made aware of Voldemort's intentions and had been able to organize a last defense against the Dark side. With the combined efforts of Harry, Dumbledore, Snape and Sirius Black (and some behind the scenes calculations by Hermione, herself) Voldemort had finally been defeated. Well at least that's what everyone hoped. Yet Hermione had the strange feeling that it had been too easy. Not that their had not been losses. The Weasley's had lost two sons; Bill had been hit by a killing curse by an unknown Deatheater and Percy had been killed by Voldemort himself. Three years later the family was still grieving and Hermione didn't think that Ron would ever be the same again.

Yet the Weasley's had not been the only family affected. Parvati Patil had lost her beloved twin Padma, Professor Sprout and Madam Hooch had also died through killing curses by the robed Deatheaters. And, how could anybody forget the valiant death of Neville Longbottom. Hermione could still clearly picture the moment like it had happened only yesterday. Dumbledore facing Voldemort, his back to Bellatrix Lestrange. The stream of green energy shooting out of Bellatrix's wand, aiming right at Dumbledore. Neville jumping in the way, sacrificing himself for Dumbledore. Hermione remembered running over to the fallen Neville, his head in her lap, him looking up at her blood trickling out the sides of his mouth, and then he had given what Hermione was certain had been a contented sigh as his he breathed his last.

Tears still came to her eyes every time she thought of it. However, this was not the only sad memory that tormented Hermione Granger as she lay in bed at night, struggling to slip into that sweet oblivion. How could she forget the death of her own parents? The night she had come home only to find her house a pile of rubble and an eerie green skull blazing in the sky overhead. The terrible fury and sadness that had threatened to overwhelm her, but even worse a terrible emptiness within her that had never truly died away. An emptiness she had tried to deal with by working even harder, burying herself in her studies so deeply that some were worried she'd never return.

After graduating with top marks (of course), she'd gotten a menial job at the Ministry whilst working full time for the Order coming up with new charms and potions and even new battle strategies. She had been an invaluable member and it had been her planning and research that had helped the Order to their victory. If a victory was what it actually was.

Hermione gave another sigh and with a flick of her wand and some murmured words, she walked out of the small room, her bags following her out the room. Another swish and the door shut behind her. One more chapter of Hermione Granger's life was over and a new one was just about to begin.