The remainder of the summer was spent primarily attempting to avoid the media in any shape or form. There was utter chaos in the wizarding world; the Ministry of Magic had all but crumbled and there were heated debates about what the future of the wizarding world ought to look like.

Despite her irritation with the media and the relentless questions about the final battle, it was only a matter of weeks before the boredom of sitting around the Burrow reading books hit Hermione. She would pace around the gardens while Ginny and Ron circled on their brooms high above in the sky. The act of flying seemed to be the only hobby that could appease the two, who were still most often silent and avoided conversation.

Harry had disappeared not long after Fred's funeral. He wasn't specific about where he was going but Hermione had a strong feeling he was probably spending some time alone at Grimmauld Place. At first she was aggravated with his disappearance, but she could also sense that there was tension between himself and Ginny, and she had to accept that he might need to deal with things in his own way.

Still, Hermione felt unsure on how to settle her own confused emotions in the wake of everything. She had been keeping herself occupied fussing over Ron and helping Mrs. Weasley get back on her feet. But now things were starting to quiet down, and slowly life moved forward. But she wasn't entirely sure if she was ready to move forward with it.

She had begun to take dreamless sleeping potions on a somewhat regular basis to avoid reminiscing about the pain Belletrix had caused her, or the dead faces of loved ones, or the stinging fear she had felt when she believed Harry had died in the final battle.

The dreams could be cured easily enough, it was the waking thoughts that she was beginning to struggle with. She missed her parents more than she had imagined she ever could, and longed to be home in the comfort of the bed that had once been hers, in the house that had been so wonderfully ordinary.

She would think about the re-occurring dream she has been experiencing, in which she was married to Ron and they bid their children farewell on the Hogwarts Express. In the dream, everything seemed so simple and happy. But now, an 18 year old girl who had experienced death, torture, loss and evil; she was unsure if life could ever truly be that simple.

Ron swept down from the sky on his broom and landed neatly on the ground. He walked over to Hermione, who had discarded her book carefully to the side, and was deep in thought, her brown eyes glazed over as she fell into the deep maze of her own thoughts and discontent.

Ron waved his hand slowly in front of her face and she jumped, as if being woken suddenly from a deep sleep.

"Sorry if I scared you" Ron grinned sheepishly, sitting beside her on a lawn chair where she had previously laid herself out to soak up some sun and catch up on some more reading.

"Oh, it's fine, I was just thinking."

"I've been thinking a bit while I was up there" he confessed, looking slightly nervous. "And, well... the thing is... bollocks, I'm no good with this sort of thing!"

"Oh just spit it out Ronald!" she exclaimed, the bossy Hermione tone in full force.

"Don't rush me!" he retorted, his face fully turning red. "Alright, well it's clear that we fancy each other. I've had a sort of thing for you since maybe our second year. And I was wondering... would you be my girlfriend? Like... officially yah know?"

He looked nervous and eager and suddenly stood up and began to pace while Hermione thought of her response. Shouldn't this be automatic? she wondered. After all, she had never had a proper boyfriend, and even with all the distraction of war, she still very much wanted the experience of romantic love. She had spent much time over the past few years imagining Ron as her boyfriend.

"Yes" she finally responded, feeling a twinge guilty for making a poor nervous boy wait nearly a whole minute.

"Wicked" he grinned, and quickly he bent down and kissed her roughly on the lips and then walked off into the house. After he walked away, she tried to return to her book, but she felt like she was in an emotional tornado and the more she tried to slow it down the harder it pressed.

It wasn't just the encounter with Ron, it was the repressed dreams and missing her parents, and not being sure who she was anymore or where the whole damned world was headed. She felt the harsh sting of tears suddenly fill her eyes, accompanied by a sick swelling in her stomach.

She quickly tucked the book under her arm and nearly ran inside, where she was fortunate to avoid encountering any Weasleys. She sought the refuge of the guest bedroom where she had been staying and hurled herself face down on the bed, wanting badly to cry, to cry herself into sleep, but the tears just weren't coming.

Hermione sat upright in the bed and looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was pale and her eyes puffed and red. Who is this girl? she found herself wondering as she gazed upon her own reflection. This certainly wasn't the same eager to please little bookworm who had gotten on the Hogwart's Express years ago.

"Well, this won't do" she finally muttered to herself, and used her wand to fix up her appearance. She needed to get out of the Burrow for the night, to clear her head a bit. The longer she stayed here, the more she remembered that the home she had known with her parents was gone.

She suddenly thought of Harry, and decided it was absolutely time to visit him. She had missed him terribly the past two weeks. Their time searching for horocruxes had brought them closer together than she thought possible, and when he wasn't near she felt almost fearful and frantic.

Being around Harry will help she decided conclusively. Quickly, she packed a few things for the night and the decided she ought to tell Ron where she was headed.

She found him sleeping in his bed. Mud still on his clothes from chasing gnomes from the garden earlier in the day, he looked much like the 11 year old boy she had met on the Hogwarts Express. He lay curled up like a child, his knees drawn into his chest as his mouth lay gaping open, a faint snore coming from the back of his throat.

She sat on the edge of the bed and studied him closely, hoping his dreams were more pleasant than hers. From his even breathing and content expression she decided his dreams must be pleasant and she shouldn't wake him. She wondered if it was the happiness of her agreeing to be his "proper girlfriend" that allowed him to sleep so soundly. She hoped so.

She wrote him a note on a scrap of parchment explaining that she suspected Harry was at Grimmauld Place and she had decided to check up on him. The note also told Ron he ought to come to Grimmauld Place if he woke up. In truth, she hoped he wouldn't because she needed a little time to clear her head, but she didn't want him to be hurt that she ran off the first day of being his "proper girlfriend".

Before she left she gazed down at sleeping Ron once more, his peaceful breathing making her feel a bit more relaxed. Carefully she stroked a wild red strand of hair away from his face and kissed him softly on his brow, her eyelashes barely brushing his closed lids.

_

HARRY was just about bored out of his mind at Grimmauld Place. He sat in an armchair before the heath, one leg lazily hanging over the back as he twirled his wand through his fingers in an absent minded manner.

He had been unable to handle being at the Burrow much longer, and while Grimmauld Place held just as many haunting memories, it was easier than dealing with the whole social end of things. Here he could pace around and brood and nobody could give him any shit for it.

But, pace and brood though he had, he was no closer to feeling any sense of certainty about the future. If anything, he simply felt more bored and annoyed with himself. While there was still much to be done in the wizarding world, this was one of the longer periods of quiet time Harry had experienced since the day he turned 11. And he simply was unsure about what to do with himself.

A loud POP from the other room alerted Harry that he had a visitor. He didn't even have to try to flex his mental muscles to guess that it would be Hermione. Harry had told Ginny that he would be at Grimmauld Place in case she wanted to speak with him, but some part of Harry knew that wasn't about to happen soon. Harry liked to imagine Ginny showing up suddenly and throwing herself into his arms. He liked to imagine her saying she wanted to be with him, her soft pink lips on his again as the lilac smell of her fiery hair fills his senses. She was different than any girl he'd ever known, and he didn't want to lose her, but he didn't know what else to do but sit and wait and see.

"Harry?" called a voice that distinctly belonged to Hermione Granger.

"In here Hemione" Harry called back, his tone even and unaffected.

She entered the room cautiously, as though nervous she might be interrupting something. "I had a feeling I'd find you here."

"I knew you'd figure it out" he grinned. "After all, you are the cleverest witch for many billions of decades."

"That's severely exaggerated" she snorted. "Actually, the first witch to..."

"Ugh, please not a history lesson!" Harry groaned.

"Oh fine Potter" Hermione retorted. The friendly banter felt good. Normal. Right. She had become so easily comfortable around Harry. She sat in another plush arm chair besides him and they stared into the empty fire place, both lost in their own thoughts again.

Harry had allowed Kreacher to stay at the kitchens in Hogwarts. The work seemed to keep the angry old house elf busy, and there were too many memories associated with Grimmauld Place for either of them to be happy in each other's company. Thus, Harry had the obligation to offer Hermione a drink without the assistance of a house elf.

"Yes, I think that would be nice" she replied airily, as though still trapped in her own dream world.

Harry went into the kitchen and looked to see what he had to offer. He hadn't been terribly effective about shopping, although he had plenty of money in his vault at Gringotts. As he searched the dusty, cobwebbed cupboards he realized he didn't have as much as a single bag of tea. All he could find was a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey.

He returned to the sitting room where Hermione had curled her legs underneath her and was still staring at the empty fireplace. He cleared his throat and she nearly jumped. He held the bottle up sheepishly, and the sight of him standing there with a bottle of strong alcohol casually dangling from his hand made Hermione laugh.

"Oh, I know" Harry mumbled. "It's a bit pathetic how bad I am at shopping. I'll run to the store quick, what would you like?"

"Oh, don't bother" Hermione hurriedly responded. She didn't want him to leave, and she was too comfortable in the quietness of the house to go with him.

"Well... would you like some then?"

Hermione eyed the bottle somewhat suspiciously, trying to make up her mind. She remembered reprimanding Ron for trying to drink it, but they were over 17 now, and it was legal.

"Oh hell" she cursed. "Why not?"

Harry found two glasses and dusted them out. Hermione cast a spell to chill the glasses and they poured half a glass each. On the first sip, Hermione was disgusted, but soon she found herself liking the way the warm fluid settled in her stomach. She felt her nerves calming.

"I'm sorry to come bother you here; I know you wanted to be alone. I just wanted to check up on you."

He gave her a strange look, as though he knew that there was more to her visit than just fussing over his health and well-being. He knew her too well.

"Alright" she confessed with a sigh. "I suppose I've had quite a bit on my mind lately, and I needed somewhere quiet to go."

"It's hard to be around a family when yours is gone" he responded. She gave him a look of surprise. How had he known that was exactly how she felt? But of course, he had experienced that sensation much of his life.

"Do you plan to go back to Hogwarts?" she suddenly asked, wanting to change the topic. They had not breached this subject since the final battle. The school had once been a place of comfort and magic to them, but now it was battle field where many lives had been lost.

Harry stood, not answering right away, but finishing his firewhiskey with a long swig. He walked over to the fireplace and started some slow burning, blue flames. As he stood there, she watched him thinking of how different he looked. He had grown, and he was beginning to look more like a man. As he rested his elbow on the ledge above the fire place and leaned casually back she noticed how poised he had become, how comfortably he now moved in his own body. Awkward teenage years were starting to be behind them and she nearly blushed when she realized how attractive he had become.

"I have been thinking about Hogwarts a lot" he finally admitted, having found his tongue. "A large part of me doesn't want to go back. I'm afraid of facing the memories of those darkened corridors. I'm not sure that I'm ready to sit through classes or eat dinner in the Great Hall without Dumbledore there. I know it can never be the same again. And yet... I feel like I should go back. There are so many pieces left to be put back together, and Hogwarts is maybe where I should start. I'm not ready to tackle the political issues the Ministry of Magic is wading though. There is still a lot more I need to learn before I can be an auror as powerful as Kingsley. I do think, that I need to go back and finish the seven years I set out as an eleven year old to complete."

Harry had only just firmly arrived at the decision as he was talking to Hermione, and it felt good to have some resolution. Yes, he would go back to Hogwarts and face his demons. And along the way he would help mend the school so it could once more be the wonderful place that Albus Dumbledore had provided for Harry as a child.

Hermione smiled, pleased by Harry's answer. "Well, I'll be going back of course. I feel like I've been away from the library for far too long!"

They both laughed at this and Harry felt a sense of relief. Going back would undeniably be difficult, but it was something that needed to be done, and he knew it would be a lot easier with Hermione by his side.

He raised his glass to her. "To Hogwarts!"

_

THE next morning Hermione returned to the Burrow. Ron had not come to visit Grimmauld Place, and when she returned she found that he had only just awoken from a very long, but much needed sleep.

"So, did you see Harry?" Ron asked as he sat down to breakfast with Hermione.

"Yes, he was there as I suspected. We had quite a bit of Firewhiskey so I ended up sleeping in the guest bedroom."

Ron laughed suddenly, nearly choking on his porridge. "You? Drinking Firewhiskey? Well, I'm sorry I slept through it now!"

"Oh ha ha Ronald. But seriously, you ought to visit him. He seems alright, just a tad bored."

"Well, he knows where I live" Ron said defensively. Hermione rolled her eyes, deciding not to get in the middle of a battle of male pride.

"But listen, I was thinking... now that you're my... well, my girlfriend" the tips of his ears burned red at the word, "I would like to take you out on a real date. Like what proper couples do and such."

She quickly accepted his request, liking the idea of being out of the house and of doing something a bit more normal than the same old hunting horocruxes, fighting dark wizards and trying to preserve Harry's life. After years of excitement and adventure, a simple dinner out sounded wonderful.

"Are you going to go back to Hogwarts?" she asked him suddenly, her conversation with Harry suddenly coming back to mind.

Ron looked suddenly uncomfortable, and his pleasure at the idea of a date drained from his face. He began to push his remaining food around with his spoon. "I sort of told George that I would help him with the business."

Hermione didn't know what to make of this. She felt education was incredibly important, but then she also knew how much George would need Ron at this time. "Ron... are you sure that's best?" she questioned, trying not to sound judgmental.

Despite her careful wording, Ron jumped up angrily. "I knew you wouldn't understand! Who needs seventh year after all we've been through? George and Fred never finished and they created a successful business, why should I go back and listen to dusty old professors? What is left at Hogwarts for me besides a pile of shitty memories and old pains?"

Hermione felt a sharp jolt of anger run through her. She had been passive for many weeks now, letting the hurt of others distract her from her own pain. But now he had hit a nerve and the careful walls she had assembled came crumbling down. "What about me Ron?" she shouted, louder than she had intended. "I'll be there, and so will Harry. I'm sorry that means nothing to you! I know you lost your brother, but we all lost a lot. The least you could do is not be such a git sometimes!"

Not wanting him to see her cry she turned sharply and ran to her room where she used enchantments to seal off her doors. And in the darkness of the dingy guest bedroom that had become the closest thing she had to home, Hermione Granger finally had a meltdown.

*AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's a slow start but eventual action, adventure and romance to come. If you like, please review. It's literally been 6 years since I've written fan fiction, but my distaste for the epilogue finally compelled me to write this!