Hermione blinked open dreary eyes. Her mouth was stale and her hair a pile of knots on her head. Her entire body hurt and her mind felt like mush. She looked over at the empty bottle of muggle tequila on her nightstand and groaned. The blissful drunken euphoria which kept her afloat the night before would soon give way to catatonia and ravenous hunger, swiftly followed by hugging her toilet bowl for an hour. However, this kind of pain she could handle, this she could tolerate. After all, it was the only remedy she found to be effective most days.

The meeting she had the night before had been her last hope. The man she met at the popular club was said to have life changing information for her, and upon hearing his words it was proven false. A trail gone cold. Years of training and research, all for not. There was nothing else to do now but wait. Wait, and drown herself in vices.

The tapping which had woken her continued and she rolled out of bed, stumbling as she tripped over her boots that had been discarded in the middle of her bedroom. The owl tapped incessantly at her window, a staccato beat which set her teeth on edge.

"Oh come off it you bloody bird." She opened the window and snatched the envelope from the insipid creature as it tried to snap at her fingers. She tossed a treat its way and slammed the window in its face as it tried to make a beeline inside. She flashed her middle finger and laughed as it flew away, it's feathers puffed up in anger. She knew that particular bird with distinct displeasure.

How the hell had Daphne Greengrass already found out she was in town? Wait she thought, she vaguely remembered the answer to that question. Draco Malfoy had seen her at the club last night, fuck.

She broke the delicate seal on the envelope and unfurled the letter.

Dear Hermione,

I heard you were back in London, however, I do not believe I received word regarding your return. Silly me, I must have missed it.

Assuming you are still in town, I would love for you to join us all tonight at Knockturn. Everyone is so excited to see you! Be there at 10.

Love,

Daphne G.

Hermione groaned into her hands. Daphne had quickly become one of her closest friends since they met two summers ago. At the time Daphne's family was struggling with a curse that had been passed to Astoria, her younger sister. The curse slowly drained the witch's life, rendering her first infertile and later dead. It took Hermione 4 months to break and whilst doing so she spent an increasing amount of time with the elder Greengrass daughter. Daphne slowly broke down Hermione's shields and they formed a friendship that was everything Hermione had wished she was able to have with Ginny.

Daphne and Astoria could not have been more different despite their appearances. No one could deny that both girls were Slytherins at the core, however, Daphne was kind and funny and had an undeniable charm. Astoria could not charm a bookstore into selling her a book.

She knew that Daphne lived with a lot of the Slytherins from her year in a flat in Diagon Alley. However, she had never invited her out with her other friends?

Hermione sighed, resigning herself to her fate in more ways than one. She decided against owling her back as no doubt the Slytherin girl knew she would not back out and she had effectively trapped her into a night out.

She dragged herself into an oversized sweater and a pair of knickers, putting on clothes for the first time since the previous night. She spotted her outfit folded neatly on top of her dresser despite her drunkenness.

Hermione shuffled out of her room and into her kitchen, using her wand to begin magically brewing her morning cup of tea. Crookshanks still dozed on the couch pillows and she smiled, tiptoeing over to give him a big smooch on the head.

Crookshanks grumbled sleepily burrowing down further into the cotton.

"What am I going to do with you, hm?" She asked the half-kneazle before plopping down beside him and wandlessly sending her teacup straight into her waiting hand. Her arm shot under the couch blindly grasping around in its depths. She nudged a shoe aside before she felt the cold glass. Her hand snagged the bottleneck and she pulled the firewhiskey out into the light. She plucked the cork from the top of the bottle with her teeth and spit it across the room. She poured a hefty shot into her cup of tea before setting the bottle onto the table. The cup warmed her palms and she smiled in contentment as she took a large gulp of her morning brew.

She picked up the morning's copy of the Daily Prophet thumbing through the pages, humming to herself and bouncing her leg. She snorted seeing Ron's name flash across the headline, another Cannon victory.

While her relationship with Ron had ended amicably, albeit publicly, they had lost touch over the years. The Golden Trio had all declined to return to Hogwarts following Voldemort's downfall at Harry's hand. Ron was immediately invited to a quidditch training camp for the Chudley Cannons and became their newest Keeper shortly thereafter. Ron was currently one of the most well known quidditch players in Britain, even without the added fame from the war. Harry had been practically begged by Kinglsey to enter the auror training program and he had eventually caved. Harry shot up through the ranks becoming the youngest auror the ministry had seen to date. He and Ginny were happily married and almost disgustingly in love with their first son on the way. Hermione would not be surprised if he stepped down from field work soon and began a career in politics. She could absolutely see him as the next Minister of Magic. Hermione and Harry were still quite close and she would pop around to Grimmauld Place regularly to have dinner with the Potters.

As for Hermione, she threw herself into her work immediately, deciding she had no extra time to spare at Hogwarts following the war. She started her potion apprenticeship and later studied curse-breaking under Bill Weasley, before continuing her education abroad. She spent time working under a variety of scholars from different backgrounds specializing in darkest magics, cursed objects, and magical maladies. The more obscure the knowledge, the better. However, it was still not enough. She let her education guide her around the globe breaking curses and devising novel potions for different clients who found no success under others who bore titles similar to her own. And still, nothing.

Three years later and she was still no closer to finding answers. Hermione Granger was 22 years old, and in less than a year, she would be dead.