A/N: The sandbox known as the world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling; I just build a castle every now and then.
hiraeth - (n.) a homesickness for a place you can never return to, a place which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past [welsh]
If you had asked 10 year old Hermione Granger what her life would look like in 15 years, she'd give you a complete list of goals she'd planned to have achieved by then, including holding a university degree and possibly a seat in the House of Commons if she felt particularly ambitious. Nowhere on that list would you have found staring out a window onto the Tasman Sea, unless you took "Go on an exotic vacation" as "Leave Britain for a few years, and get as far away as possible to do so." And yet, at 25, that's exactly where Hermione found herself, sipping tea and watching the Tasman froth and roil. The water mirrored her thoughts, still wildly unsettled after all of the turmoil that had caused her to flee after the war.
How she found herself in this part of the world was no surprise; sending her parents off to Australia hadn't just been a move to get them out of the way, it had been an excuse to go after them assuming things went well. "Well" being relative in this case, as survival had been achieved at the cost of many friends, the house she had grown up in, and her ability to feel safe in her surroundings. Comfortable people don't have to look at a vivid reminder of just how close they were to being killed on their arms daily, after all. So, congratulating herself on having a very good reason to get away for a while, Hermione booked a flight for Australia as soon as she could without alienating those friends who had survived with her.
In Australia, rather than the peace and quiet she had hoped to find, instead another dagger into her past arose. The memory charms she had placed on her parents had broken almost as soon as they had landed in Sydney, and the only reason they hadn't immediately returned to London was that the next flight didn't leave for hours. During that wait time, the Grangers has discussed exactly why their daughter was intent on sending them away, and concluded that perhaps a vacation was worth taking after all. That vacation turned into a permanent settlement, so when Hermione arrived expecting to bring her parents home, she found they were content to stay where they were. "Thank you for visiting us," they said, "but we've put down roots here, and we have no plans to go back any time soon. Do let us know if you need anything."
Hermione was absolutely shocked. Even if her charms hadn't failed (an outcome she had at least partially prepared for), not wanting to go home was an option that had never entered her mind. It was at this moment she was extremely glad she had purchased a pair of two way mirrors before she left, so that she could instantly contact Harry, the one person she most wanted to talk to right then. After getting Hermione to calm down enough to make sense with what she was saying, Harry dove right to the heart of the problem with one simple question: "Is there really anything here for them to come back to?" The silence that followed was all the answer he needed.
Two days later, Harry arrived. A brief protest that he hadn't needed to come, she would have eventually gotten herself together and returned, was met by a very serious look and a request to find a coffee shop where they could sit and talk. As it happened, Harry had been having similar ideas as her parents. There was very little Magical Britain had not taken or demanded from him, and the only place that truly felt like home to him there was a place he no longer needed to attend.
"All I've ever wanted from life is peace and quiet, Hermione. If I stay in Britain, peace is iffy, and quiet will never come, because of this scar. While I don't want to cut all ties with the place, I just can't live there now. I sincerely doubt the Ministry would let me return to Hogwarts to just be another student, and I'm not foolish enough to believe I've learned everything I need to know to live on. There's only one person I can trust to steer me in the right direction on this, and I'm looking right at her."
Hermione flushed at the praise. Over the next hour, a plan was hashed out and agreed upon: they would begin looking at alternative magical education options, preferably ones away from Britain. Both expressed an interest in learning more about charms, having practiced a lot of them while on the run, and found that a well-respected tutor of the discipline resided in Wellington, New Zealand. She agreed to meet with the pair, and after laying out exactly what she would require of them, their first session was scheduled.
"And now, here we are, enjoying the benefits of that teaching," mused Hermione between sips. Their tutor was a no-nonsense type of teacher, but very accommodating to their questions and interests, and both progressed quickly under her tutelage. A few friends from back home had come to join them, and a small but burgeoning community of ex-pats was developing in Wellington. As a welcoming gift, Harry and Hermione had put up charms to prevent harmful mail from entering the homes of the recently arrived, ones that matched their own. Slowly, surely, the demands, the less-than-polite requests to come back, all faded away.
Hermione sighed as she finished off her tea. The aspirations of her 10 year old self had long been dashed and torn asunder, but those dreams were more a reflection of who she had been, back in Britain. The one constant, always looking for a new challenge to overcome, that stayed and kept driving her forward. At fleeting moments, she still missed the place, but now, Wellington was home. Sharing an apartment with Harry was home. Hermione Granger was home.