((Have you ever had a story idea slam into your head while you were doing the most routine of things? That's where this came from. Please, review.))

Chapter 1::
Heavy Baggage

The war had ended. The world was starting to look like a better place for Hermione Granger. Many had fallen, their lives consumed by the hate and evil that once was. Those that survived had made a promise to each other on the that day. They promised to live their lives to the fullest to honor their fallen friends. Hermione had been the one to think of that promise. Everyone immediately following her example. She had been happy in the days that followed.

Having admitted the love he felt for her, Ron quickly made plans for their life together. Hermione, having realized that all she felt for Ron was snuffed out through time, told him that she wanted to remain friends. He fought her at first and said that they belonged together. It hurt her so much to see the pain in his eyes, but she couldn't stay in a relationship with someone she no longer felt for in that way. Not now, after all they had already lost in their lives. She knew it would have ended terribly. After many fights and words they regretted, Ron finally understood and bowed out gracefully.

Since then, Hermione had kept her promise.

Until the day she went to the doctors for a routine check up.

Having muggle parents, Hermione still went to yearly check ups with her regular muggle doctor. Every year it was the same. She was happy and healthy, going to live a long life. But on this fateful day, she knew something was wrong. He had taken much too long with her exam; asking her questions that he never asked before. It started with the bruise she had on her arm. Thinking it was from the battle a week before, she had said she bumped her arm. Still skeptical, he ordered a blood test.

She and her parents sat in the exam room for an hour. All the while Hermione was feeling nervous. When the doctor finally came in, his face was drawn, white. This didn't look good for her.

That was when she heard the words that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

"Hermione you have leukemia."

It's been a year since the day she was told she had cancer.

At first it had been painful and heart breaking. She cried with her parents and locked herself in her room for days. In a state of denial, she was frightened to face anyone. She was more afraid to face the truth. After all that she had been through, it was almost impossible to believe she would have to go out slowly, unable to truly fight. Sure, she went through treatments and several tests to beat the silent killer that was eating her up from the inside.

During the last year, her friends thought she would just take long vacations with her parents to celebrate a clear life ahead. In reality, her parents were taking her from hospital to hospital with hopes of saving her life. Each hospital she went to was much the same; all had told her that her cancer was too far progressed to really be cured. She had tried chemo, keeping her small pump hidden in her big shirts and jackets. Luckily, she hadn't lost her hair and didn't need to explain to her friends.

Now, as she was preparing to return to Hogwarts for the seventh year that she and her fellow classmates missed due to the war, she was out of options. Having also gone to wizarding hospitals, she had literally tried every venue that money could buy. Her cancer was just too far progressed. All they could do for her was make her comfortable, they had said.

Two years is what they gave her. Two years at the most and six months at the minimum.

No one knew aside from the doctors and her parents. She had wanted it that way. If Harry, Ron, or anyone else knew, she would be treated like a feather. She couldn't have it that way. She was better then that and she refused to back down. Yes, she was at peace with her cancer. Yes, she knew she was going to die sooner then everyone else. But, they were just turning their lives around. Harry had finally started to live a peaceful life without any death or shadows following him around. Hermione wasn't about to take away that little piece of hope he had growing in him. He and Ginny deserved to be happy.

So, as she stood looking in the mirror of her bathroom, she decided to pretend like everything was normal. She had months before any extremely prominent signs of her sickness showed. She would take those months and be as happy as she could; living life normally.

"Mimi? It's time to go." Her mother called to her from downstairs.

Her parents had started calling her Mimi again; both not wanting to let go of their dying little girl. Hermione knew it was their way of coping. She never corrected them anymore.

"Coming, mum." Her voice was normal, not shaking.

Grabbing her trunk, she checked her wardrobe again to make sure she looked nice enough. Since she stopped responding to chemo, she never had to carry the pump around anymore. That left her free the wear tighter clothes. Now, she wore a cute lavender sweater with a nice pair of black jeans; a charmed Black Magic rose in her hair for luck. The only sign of her advancing illness was the slight discoloration below her eyes, the purple bags that were starting to form.

Snapping away from her painful thoughts, she headed downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs were her wonderful parents. They'd grown closer in the last year, spending every minute together that they could afford to. Now, as she was going to school, they looked heart broken and sad. They didn't want her to go.

"Mimi, are you sure you want to do this? What if you have an episode?" Her mother was crying.

"I'm going to talk to Madame Pomphrey when I get there, Mum. I'll tell her everything so that she'll know what to do if that happens. I promise I'll be fine." She hugged her mother before turning to her father.

"Don't forget," he pulled her in for a fierce hug, "You promised to come home if you got too weak. Please, keep that promise."

Hermione started to get teary eyed as she watched her father start to sob. "I promise, daddy." She hugged him and her mother again, twice as hard as before.

"You'd better get going, Mimi." Her dad handed her a bouquet of Black Magic. Her favorite. "You'll be late."

Her mum kissed her on the cheek. "We love you, Hermione. Write to us everyday."

She smiled. "I will. See you soon."

With that, she grabbed her trunk and apparated to the train station.

Looking around, she didn't know what to do. Ordinarily, she would walk onto the train and save a compartment for her, Harry, and Ron. Now, as she looked around at all the students she knew returning for their final year, she was at a loss. Nothing was the same. The war had touched this platform, making it feel different. The last time she stood here she was going to her sixth year, happy as can be. Today she was dying,

"Mione!"

Hermione turned at the voice and smiled when she saw Ginny running towards her, nearly knocking her to the ground. "Hey, Gin!"

The excited redhead backed away and smiled, "We were waiting for you. When you didn't show up early like normal, the boys sent me out here to look for you while they saved out compartment. Come on," she grabbed her best friend's trunk. "Let's not keep them waiting."

They boarded the train and walked down the narrow hall to their compartment. Hermione slowed down behind Ginny, her breath running shallow. She hated it when this happened. At random times, she would grow tired and weak. It was just one of the few symptoms that were taking effect on her body at this stage.

A few doors up, Ginny walked into a compartment and out of sight, giving Hermione the opportunity to lean again the wall and gather her breath. This didn't last long, for a harsh bump sent her to floor in a heap. Turning to glare at the rude person that knocked her over, all she saw was a hand being held out to help her to her feet. Sighing, she grabbed the hand and held onto the wall to steady herself. She said a silent 'thank you' to the person before she looked up. When she did, she wasn't sure if she should glare or just collapse in surprise.

"What are you staring at, Granger?" Draco Malfoy's voice came out in a sneer.

She raised an eyebrow, "Nothing. I just didn't know you were returning to Hogwarts. I thought you hated it here."

"I do and not like it's any of your business, Mud--Granger," the word 'mudblood' was outlawed a year ago. "But this is part of my sentencing. Instead of getting sent to Azkaban the Minister decided to put me on house arrest and banned me from using any magic for a year. Along with that I had to come back to Hogwarts with the rest of my year and prove myself worthy of not getting my wand snapped."

She nodded, as if this all made sense to her. It did, somewhat, she supposed. "I see. Well, nice seeing you, Malfoy, I'd better get to my compartment."

Draco sighed as she started to walk away. "Granger?"

Hermione turned as she reached the door of her compartment, "Yes?"

He looked like he wanted to say something, but then settled for something else. "Don't go telling your friends about my reasons for being here. I don't need them rubbing it in my face."

"Very well." Her response was short. She really needed to sit down.

"Hey," he tried to get her attention again.

She raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"You should get some sleep. Those bags look heavy." He smirked as he walked away.

Hermione froze. She didn't think anyone would notice her eyes yet. After all, they were that dark quite yet. Sighing, she decided to place a concealment charm on them for now on.

This was going to be a long year.