- Chapter 1 -

Manhattan wasn't the first place Hermione would've chosen to live, if she had her pick of the world. She had been quite content with London, but Manhattan was still a nice choice. She had to get away, and New York was definitely far enough.

She strode down the road toward the glass paned high rise, her stylish sunglasses on her face and wavy blonde hair around her shoulders. Her stilettos tapped the sidewalk and the hem of her red dress grazed her legs just above her knees. Hermione, as she knew it, was almost unrecognizable to who she had been 7 years ago. A few years back she had bewitched her looks as well. Nothing drastic, but enough that if she happened to run into someone from her past, they wouldn't realize it was her. Her bushy brown hair was calmed down, changed color, her figure was curvy in all the right places, and her confidence was high, her self esteem solid.

Leaving the magical world was the best thing she ever did, or so she thought anyways. Of course she missed her family, and her friends. Going into hiding was probably the hardest choice she has ever had to make, but without the pressures of the war, Hermione felt like a whole new woman.

"Elaine, can you please get me a latte and today's paper?" She asked petite black haired girl as she strode into her publishing office and placed her black leather down on a modern steeled framed desk.

"Right away Ms. Hodgins," the tiny girl nodded, hopping up from her desk and quickly scuttling away.

The position as Senior Editor of the non-fiction department of the upscale publishing company River Rock Publishing had it's perks. For starters, your own personal assistant. In only 7 years of work in the publishing industry, Hermione made her way to the top of the totem pole and now led the busiest department of one of the finest publishing houses in North America.

"Jane Hodgins," a deep voice rang her name, and before she had a chance to sit and take off her heels, she was shaking the hand of a tall dark haired man in a black suit.

"Chris, please, take a seat," she motioned towards the egg shaped chair in front of her desk. "How can I help you?" She took a sip from her latte and nodded in dismissal at her assistant.

"There's a convention for writers on the fifth that we would like you to attend. It's nothing extravagant, just represent the company, mingle, drink champagne. Of course, we will pay for everything, so there really is reason to say no."

Hermione considered his proposition. Chris was her boss, the higher up, and she did everything he asked to her. However, she hated conventions. She always found everybody was so fake. Hello. How is the business? What new projects are you taking on for this quarter? Boring. But she could use a vacation. "Where is it this year?"

Chris sat back more comfortably, "A nice place really, for a convention like this one. Plenty of people are dying to represent River Rock this year. It's in London, England." He sat back smug, but his smile faltered at Hermione's facial expression. "Is there a problem Jane?"

"No, well, maybe. I think I may have a scheduling conflict on the fifth. I'll have to get back to you," she smiled innocently at her boss and watched as he looked at her sceptically.

After a moment he stood slowly, "Very well Jane, just let me know by friday." He headed towards the door, turning back momentarily before leaving. "Just remember, a lot of important people are going to be there." Hermione nodded reassuringly watching him go.

A pit sat in Hermione's stomach. She was slightly nauseous and a headache began to pound in her head. She couldn't go back to England, even if she wanted to. The Death Eaters were tracking the order members still, no doubt, and she was wanted by many people. After the war, Voldemort took over the ministry and was now running the wizarding world in Europe, and potentially around the world. She knew they were tracking the use of magic, and the whereabouts of those who once were a threat to Voldemort's reign. She couldn't take the risk of even using magic, let alone entering their territory.

The rest of the day passed slowly, her mind reeling of the possible excuses she could use, and the possible consequences if she couldn't find a good enough excuse not to go. She would simply have to say no, not a way around it. She would have to talk to Jason.

Jason Mathers was Hermione's long term boyfriend. Nearing fiance, or she liked to hope, she had been with him for the last five years and they lived comfortably in a one bedroom flat a few streets away from her work. He was the perfect boyfriend. Smart, funny, understanding, thoughtful. Almost something out of a fairy tale book, that a godmother conjured up with magic. Hermione loved him to death, and knew that he could help her out of this one. He knew she hated London, though he believed it was family issues. It was safer if he didn't know the truth. Besides, he wouldn't believe she was really a witch.

The day's end drew near and before long she found herself standing in the kitchen of her flat drinking a glass of wine. Jason stood in the kitchen, cooking dinner, and Hermione watched him, her mind still reeling in thought.

"How was your day, my love?" Jason passed her a spoon with sauce on it and she tasted it before answering.

"It was okay I guess," Hermione shrugged sipping on her wine and tracing her finger in a circle on the table top. "What about you?"

"It was really good actually. I closed a huge deal with the company that our firm is defending and I'm going to get a huge bonus. We should take a vacation," he moved from the kitchen to where Hermione was standing and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He kissed her neck lightly, "Just you and me, in Hawaii, or Cancun." She smiled, and moaned very slightly to his words, but he could tell it was forced. Her mind was elsewhere. "Jane?" He asked, his voice breaking her focus and she responded with a low but distracted hum. "What's on your mind?

She looked up to his eyes to see that he was watching her intently, and she knew that lying to him wasn't an option. "Chris asked me to represent the company at a conference on the 5th. The conference is in London."

Jason frowned, but continued to cook. "Well, I guess you can't go then. London isn't really an option for both of us," there was a slight edge to his voice.

Hermione was slightly put off by his demeanor. "For both of us? London is only a problem for me."

He paused a second and looked at her. "Of course. That's what I meant." He turned back to the stove, and began to serve dinner onto plated. Although Hermione wanted to push, she decided not to argue. It wasn't a subject she could talk about really anyways, but dinner was quiet. Both parties seemed lost in though, and after a quick clean up, Jason announced he was going to the gym, and made a hasty exit.

She prickled with annoyance and worry the whole evening. She didn't understand why he was so put off at the thought of London. Of course, he knew what she had told him about her family and the fabricated situation, but it wasn't nearly bad enough to extract this kind of reaction from him. Alone she sat on her bed, with her glass of white wine. Her legs were crossed, and an unlocked box sat open in front of her. It was a box she kept securely stowed away in the back of the closet. Only she had the key, and Jason had never seen what was inside. In their relationship it was agreed that they were allowed some skeletons to stay stowed away. Hermione had her box, and Jason had a drawer. Of couse she was curious what he could have to hid, but figured with a guy like Jason, it wouldn't be more than a few dirty playboys from when he was a teenager.

She emptied the box object by object. Her wand, some old school books, an old copy of the Daily Prophet. She unfolded the paper and read the headline. "The Boy Who Lives No More." The picture was one of a frowning Harry with a large X across his face. Hermione's heart hurt. 7 years later and the loss of her best friend was no easier. As terrible as she felt, nobody took Harry's death as hard as Ron, and Hermione filled with guilt at the thought that she hadn't even been there for him. Almost as soon as Harry was killed, within days, is when everybody split apart. Hermione couldn't even be there to help him cope. She folded the paper back up and put it aside. Taking out a small photo album and scanning through it slowly. Picture by picture, memory by memory, Hermione hurt. She really missed everybody, and as much as leaving the wizarding world saved her life, she wished they could all be here with her.

The last object in the box Hermione was reluctant to take out. An envelope sat on the bottom, the emerald seal staring back at her. She picked it up with shaking hands and opened it slowly. Unfolding the paper inside, her stomach grew nauseous and heart beat fast as her eyes read the scrawled writing along the page. She fought back tears as she read:

Dear Hermione,

If your reading this, that means you've already gone. To where, I do not know, nor I ever will. I feel that the goodbye I would give in person, would not do justice as to how I feel, and my written words are deeper.

In these months we've worked together, you've brought me a solace that nobody has for many years. I could never justify the things I have done for this war throughout the years, but you helped me find a peace with myself that I never could before. You showed me parts of myself that I thought were lost years ago.

My heart hurts that you have to leave, Hermione. I have lost everything, and everybody in my work over the years, but never have I felt a pain that I am feeling at the loss of you. I know we will never see each other again, so these words mean nothing at all, and my only regret is that I was never able to express my feelings to you.

I will never forget what you did for me, and I hope that you do well in the years to come. Your future is bright with many years ahead. Make a good life for yourself outside this world of madness, and please do not return.

Love,

Severus Snape

She wiped the tears from her eyes and stared at the paper in front of her. Severus gave her this letter minutes before she aparated away from him, and made her promise not to open it for 6 months. Of course she tried to open it right away, but the clever man charmed it not to let her. He always knew of her curiosities and that even in times of danger, her stubborness. She smiled at the memories of all the times he grew frustrated with her inability to listen to what he said.

Hermione put the letter, along with the rest of the objects, back into the box, locked it and returned it to her place in the closet. She heard the apartment door open, and headed to the shower before Jason could enter the room. He would shower in the other bathroom, and go to bed before she was out. After 5 years, his routine was solid and she silently thanked him for that. She just wanted to be alone. Alone in her memories, and in her unforgotten past.