A/N: In this world, the final battle took place – but Voldemort was only weakened. Everyone that died in book 7 is still dead – there was just a different outcome. Also, Hermione did not go with the boys on their hunt for horcruxes, due to circumstances that will be explained below. Hermione is very OOC; there is a reason for this, don't worry. Enjoy!

It was 3 in the morning, but Hermione had given up on sleep. She kept dreaming about that night, and after that, sleep was useless. The dreams haunted her, even when she was awake… she did all she could to avoid them. All but removing her memory.

Sometimes she wondered what it would be like to go back to the muggle world. To go back to a place where she wasn't fighting someone else's war, where she wasn't considered scum by those in power… but she had nothing to go back to. She'd be even more alone in the muggle world – waking up to silence wasn't something she thought she could stand. She was used to the hub in 12 Grimmauld Place – the ruckus George was creating next door to her, trying to carry on with the business he and Fred had set up, Teddy crying, Molly trying to sooth him whilst cooking… she was used to it. It was constant, and she needed constant. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and opened the door wordlessly, and began to make her way downstairs.

She couldn't help but want to kick Lavender in the face as she passed her in the hallway – she probably would have done as well, if it weren't for the bump. Just because it's parents had been despicable didn't mean it deserved to be punished. Neither did her brother.

She wandered down into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes in her big jumper and shorts. Ever since she was a child, Hermione had never been able to stand having anything on her legs when she was sleeping, unless it was below freezing. Even then she wasn't comfortable with the duvet on her, but she learnt to live with it. She patted Ted on the head – calming him down instantly – and picked him up. Ted was the same age her brother was – nearly a year old – and playing with him filled in the gap that was created that night a few months before in the summer.

Hermione made her way to the bananas hung by the sink, Ted in arm, and began to mash one up in a cup for the boy, making sure she remembered to take one for herself. As she sat him on her knee, she noticed Lavender walk into the room and glare at her.

"You know, Lavender, it would just be easier to ask me to leave. Looks don't kill."

The girl only strengthened her glare and said nothing. Those in the kitchen had suddenly stopped whatever they were doing – preparing for the enslaught of swearing, physical violence and general nastiness that was about to come. Hermione took that as an invitation to keep going.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I seem to be mistaken," she said in a pleasant tone, as not to alarm the toddler on her knee, "if anyone should be angry here, it's me. So go and sling your axe into someone else's skull, I don't want any of your shit today."

Hermione placed Ted in his high-chair, with a lot of protest from the boy himself, and stalked upstairs, munching on her banana and ignoring the insults from the various paintings around the house. Both her and Lavender had left the school – but for entirely different reasons – and had nowhere else to go but here. Hermione was a saint, in her eyes, for even allowing the girl in to the house, but others saw differently. She was obligated to do it – throwing a pregnant girl to the curb was not the befitting thing to do for an Order member. Everyone had seemed to have forgotten that she was the one that drove an engaged pair apart. But, after all, it was only Hermione, and at the end of the day, she didn't really matter to anyone.

Once upstairs, she hauled out her trunk and began to pack. Even though just a few short minutes ago she had convinced herself that she needed to be here, she couldn't take the agro from everyone any more. All she did was mope, and curse, and mope some more – she was a hindrance, regardless of the amount of work she sent to Harry in order to help him. She left a short, simple note to Molly, thanking her for all she had done, and telling her that she was going to her family home. After her grandparents had died, they left her a large sum of money – just enough to get her through and rebuild the house. Being nice had, for once, paid off for her. It wasn't going to get her much further. She mentally kissed Ted on the head as she dragged her case into the fireplace. It was time for her to go. She needed to get out. She'd been forced to be strong after everything that had happened, so leaving on her own wasn't a big deal. She'd miss some of them… but they'd all abandoned her the moment she stopped doing as they asked without any hesitation, the moment she stopped showing any emotion. She was better off without them.

It was utter chaos. Her house was alight, firecrews, police, ambulances… they were everywhere. All she could do was stand back and watch – she couldn't cast a shield and go in, not with muggles around. She ran to the right side of the house, where there was least damage, praying that her family were in there.

The rest of the night was still a blur.

She remembered a paramedic coming up to her and patting her on the shoulder, giving her a card for a counselor.

She remembered someone putting a blanket around her and guiding her away from the wreckage.

She remembered the stomach-wrenching feeling as she realized she was alone.

She remembered answering questions as to who might have done this.

She remembered collapsing as she thought that the reason her family was dead was because of her.

She remembered the flash of blonde hair in the distance.

Hermione awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in her bed. It was one of the few things that had been saved in the fire, as her bedroom was on the right side of the house. She could hear rattling downstairs. Crap, she muttered to herself, I didn't have any alarms installed. Stupid, stupid girl. She grabbed her wand and headed, cautiously, to the stairway. No muggle burglar was a match for her, but that didn't mean she was any less scared.

The lights were on in the kitchen, and she could smell jasmine tea brewing. What kind of burglar brewed tea? She transfigured her wand into a cricket bat and sprung round the corner.

There was a man in her kitchen, sitting, smiling at her.

A man with unmistakable blonde hair.

"Hello, love."