It had long passed, the final battle between Harry and Voldemort. War as it commonly has to tendency to do so changed her, beyond recognition. It had been four years and she still woke in the night drenched in cold sweat, Her dreams were often of the bloody battlefield. Members of the order and death eaters lay bloodied, eyes wide starring at nothing. She had been in the thick of it all. One of the leading witches against Voldemort; she had stared death in the face and cheated it. She hadn't done it alone. She and two young wizards were the beacons of light in so much darkness.

In the atrium of the ministry of magic was a large portrait featuring 'the trio'. Unlike most wizarding painting this was unmoving. Ronald Weasley, a tall, freckled, wizard with aqua blue eyes, and red hair down to his shoulders. His hand at his side gripping his wand, his stance and eyes exuded determination and strength. A girl stood with a hand on her hip and her other hand at her side holding her wand also. Her long auburn curls fell halfway down her back her bangs swept across her forehead. She had chocolate eyes that sparkled with dynamic energy .She was a very pretty young woman; she glowed with fire and intensity. But between the two was none other than Harry Potter. His wand raised, his emerald green eyes bright, courage seemed to emanate from him. His disheveled jet-black hair revealed a lightning blot scar. He had charming boyish good looks that were distorted in his concentration.

A golden plaque shined luminously under the portrait. It read in black elaborate cursive

The Trio:

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger

The portrait stood as a reminder to the wizarding world to the three young people who led the wizarding through the darkest of times in history. They were dubbed the most powerful and important wizards and witch of their time.

After graduating from Hogwarts the war raged on for five years until it culminated in the bloodiest and epic wars the world had ever seen. Hermione and Ron were there when Harry had finally defeated Voldemort. There had been a flash of golden light, which lit up the battlefield like a second sun. The light dissipated the ground was smoldering smoke rising rapidly.

"Harry!" she remembered screaming "HARRY!" she could faintly hear Ron yelling also, like he was far away even thought they were right next to each other. A black shadow moved toward them obscured but smoke. Their hands clenched on to their wands instinctively. Then the shadow began to take shape, a knot in Hermione's middle recoiled instantly as she saw those familiar emeralds green eyes. Harry's hair was matted with blood, dirt, and ash; he was covered head to foot in it all. Hermione ran to Harry and flung her arms around his neck.

He was ready for it. Once upon time Hermione had hugged him like this and knocked him to the floor with such force he had a bruise on his bum. He was older now, taller, and stronger. He could easily pick up the petite girl. Tears streamed down their faces.

Ron walked up to them a grin on his face. His two best friends released each other briefly to pull him in to the embrace. It was the happiest moment in their lives. It was over!

This did not last long. They were torn apart shortly after. Harry who had worked for the ministry as a top secret operative was sent away on a 'secret mission'. No one knew where he had gone, he hadn't written. Hermione and Ron remained close throughout this.

It had been a year after; Hermione had been offered a job to go work with a group of wizards who dealt with Vampires in Romania and all over Europe. She'd accomplish so much in her short life a desk job wasn't what she wanted anymore. Part of her also hoped she'd find Harry.

Present time

Hermione Granger stomped in to a small house on the out skirts of a small village in Romania. She wore black britches, high black boots, an unbuttoned white oxford shirt, a black tank top under that, and a simple silver crucifix rested on her chest as it heaved in anger. A clunky belt hung slanted on her hips. Wooden stakes, her wand, tiny bottles of holy water, a sheathed sword hung off her right hip. A band on her left thigh held a sheathed dagger as well.

Slamming the door behind her " I wish you'd refrain from that." Came a voice from a near by couch. The speaker was a tall lean, handsome man, barely older then Hermione. He had classically handsome features, pale skin, navy blue eyes and dark brown hair that was about the impair his vision.

"Pietro, I thought you were in Austria?" She said as if trying to find out what he'd done wrong. (Pronounced Pee-A-tro)

"It's just splendid to see you too Hermione." He said giving her a mischievous grin. He crossed the room towards her; he walked like a lion moving on its prey of course this is how he always walked. Pietro was a confident brave man who sometimes bordered on arrogance. He leaned on the kitchen counter where next to Hermione who was fixing herself some tea. "What's got your knickers in a twist," he paused smirking "this time?"

"Those villagers! I tell them to stay in at night, they as usual blatantly ignore me." Hermione growled pulling down a teacup roughly.

"Well Hermione, they always do that." Said Pietro taking her teacup she'd just set down and taking a sip.

"No but last night there was an attack on these a pair of young lovers, out on a midnight snog." She then paused seizing the teacup from him, he smirked playfully but Hermione ignored it. "I go down to inquire and they blame me! Bloody…" the rest was inaudible as she muttered under breath.

"Well can't say Austria was any better, everything was just peachy, till Sebastian was called to the ministry." He took out a silver flask taking a hearty swig. "He was righted gutted about it."

"What? The ministry hasn't contacted us since, well since I came."

"Well I reckon you can think on that during the trip." Pietro said casually. Seeing her confused expression he elaborated. "We're to," he motioned between him and Hermione " set up in a new village that's having problems with an especially nasty gang of vampires."

"When do we leave?"

"One hour." And with that she was running up the stairs.

Exactly one hour later Hermione was yelling at Pietro to hurry up. She had shrunk her belongings and supplies and placed them in a small bag hanging off of her belt.

When Pietro finally was ready swearing colorfully under his breath they apparated. When her feet felt ground again there was a small 'oomph' beside her as he had lost his footing. They were in the more mountainous region of Romania, and Ancient castle was high above a small valley where a tiny village stood. Smoke rose from the thick trees surrounding the town. The artificial darkness created by the trees reminded Hermione of the forbidden forest. They were on the out skirts of the small village and quickly made there way in to town.

To be continued……………….

A/N: I don't know it is a weird idea huh? Well I was just inspired to write something along this story line. Review please!