DISCLAIMER: Everything that you recognize from here on is property of the amazing mind of J.K. Rowling.
Chapter 1 Back home
The lights were off in Gryffindor Tower and the students were fast asleep in their beds since it was well past midnight. Well, not all students. A certain witch with bushy brown hair and brown eyes was still up and sitting in a corner of the common room, buried deep in her copy of Arsenius Jigger's "Magical Drafts and Potions" which she had read about five times by now. She knew practically each and every letter and punctuation of the book, but still kept studying it. After the battle of Hogwarts, she had thought long and hard about what she wanted and needed to do with her life. Returning to school seemed the only logical thing to do. The new Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, along with Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, had assured Harry, Ron and Hermione that returning to Hogwarts wasn't by all means necessary after their vast contribution and sacrifice to the defeat of Lord Voldemort. Yet, for Hermione it was necessary. Even though she was always welcome to stay at the Burrow or Grimmauld Place, she never truly felt like she belonged.
She had tried to make things work with Ron, tried to reciprocate his feelings, but there was no use to denying that they were just too opposing. He was laid-back, humorous and quite likeable to others, even though he wasn't notably gifted in regards of wisdom and wit. He made up for it, though, with is unconditional affection for his family and friends. And he wasn't the slightest bit interested in books and grades. She, however, was of a curious and ambitious spirit. She found delight in spending hours immersed in books. Her intellect was unmatched among her peers which made her stand out ever so often. But it also made her lonely more times than she cared to admit to herself, especially after the war. She loved the Weasleys and loved being around them, but she would never be able to explore her own potential well enough had she stayed with them. So, she decided that going back to Hogwarts to finish her N.E.W.T.S. was what she wanted to and should do. When she told them about her decision, they were mostly understanding. Even Ron offered his support, though hesitantly, due to their somewhat restrained state of relationship ever since they had broken up.
The first few weeks of the school year had passed by in what seemed to be a blink of an eye. Having been on the run with her two best friends for so long, it took some getting used to the relatively defined schedule of a student, again. Whenever she didn't have to be in class, she found herself provided with a new kind of free time. She used those hours to either browse through the sheer inexhaustible inventory of the library, study for her upcoming exams or engage with some of her old friends. One of those old friends was Hagrid, the gamekeeper of Hogwarts and professor of Care of Magical Creatures. On Saturdays she usually took a stroll down to his hut outside the castle, on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Normally, they had tea and he would tell her stories about the oddest of creatures that he had encountered over the years. Sundays she reserved to finished any pending projects such as essays and homework. With that routine established, she felt a sense of normality to being back at school, even though she was a year older than her classmates and far more experienced in so many different worldly matters than most witches and wizards will find themselves to become throughout their entire lives.
Hermione had trouble staying awake. The content of "Magical Drafts and Potions" seemed to blur before her eyes. Ever since she'd returned to Hogwarts most teachers had been kind and welcoming to her. Most even treated her as friends, because of everything they all had been through. All, but one certain dungeon bat. Professor Snape, Master of Potions, wasn't known to be a kind and caring person, nor was he particularly forgiving to what he determined to be errors, even before the war. But now he was downright cynical. No one really knew, how he'd survived the attack of that vicious snake Nagini. Whatever had saved him must have been so unspeakable that he turned into an even greater arse. And Hermione appeared to be his favorite target to humiliate. More than once had he embarrassed her in front of the class by diminishing her flawless work or blaming another student's mistakes on her, just because he felt like it. Whenever she tried to argue with him about it, he would simply take points from Gryffindor or give her multiple hours of detention. In order to avoid being picked on by her teacher, she convinced herself that she'd just have to study even harder, which was almost impossible considering her zealous nature.
Exhausted, Hermione set the book aside and snug up the stairs and into her bed in the girls' dormitory. Uneasy sleep had fallen over her almost instantly. It was part of the aftermath of the war. Much like everyone who had been fighting in it, she was haunted by nightmares. Nightmares of the Dark Lord, of pain and torture. Heavily panting, she woke up and stared at the small mechanical clock on her nightstand her parents had gifted her with for her first year at the school. She treasured it, especially now that her parents were gone. She had erased any memory they had of her to protect them. They didn't remember ever having her, their only child. She told herself that they wouldn't forgive her for it and that they would never understand why it had been necessary to do, because they were Muggles. She kept it, so that at least she could remember them. 8:50 am, the little hands showed. DAMN!
The diligent young woman had never been late to any of her periods before and she was determined to not staring it now. She rushed herself out of bed, performed a quick grooming spell and ran down the flights of stairs from Gryffindor Tower to the Dungeon.