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Chapter 1: She Wasn't Going Back
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“You know the wizarding world is back to normal when Rita Skeeter starts posting The Daily Prophet again,” Hermione grumbled, picking up the newspaper. It had been two months since the battle and even though the world was still recovering, Rita Skeeter was always capable of finding false gossip. Today it was about Harry and Ginny’s relationship. “This is total bullocks,” she said as she flicked through the paper.
“Listen to this,” Hermione said when Ron walked through the door into the Burrow’s small kitchen. “‘Does the young and red-haired Ginny Weasley really love our favorite wizard, Harry Potter, or is it just a scheme to get back at her brothers for years of neglect and mistreatment?’” she quoted, throwing the paper on the ground. Ron smirked at Hermione and placed a delicate kiss on her cheek.
“You worry too much, Hermione,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “Now, come on. We’ve got an interview at the ministry.”
Harry, Ron and Hermione walked through the ministry. “It looks like it has gone back to normal,” Hermione whispered into Ron’s ear, noticing that the previous fountain had been demolished.
“Still gives me the chills each time I look at it, though,” Harry commented, who was also staring at the fountain. Ron nodded in agreement. “Why are we even here anyway?” he demanded, looking around.
“We broke a lot of laws-” Hermione started, but Ron cut her off.
“Yeah, to save the world.” Hermione shot Ron a quick glare before finishing her statement.
“We broke a lot of laws, I’m sure we have at least some charges to face. That, and I’m sure Kingsley wants to have a chat; discuss school.”
“Only you would think of school,” Ron sighed, kissing her fondly on the cheek.
“Harry? Mr. Shackelbolt will see you now.” The three friends spun around and saw Percy Weasley standing at a door with a clipboard in his hand. The trio smiled gratefully at Percy as they passed him. Percy returned the favor. Even though he was smiling on the outside, Hermione could see Percy dying on the inside. She wanted to reach out and hug him; tell him that Fred’s death wasn’t his fault, but alas, she said nothing.
The next few days passed by with a blur of camera flashes, interviews, and eating somewhere in between. Everyone wanted to know the story; their story. But Hermione knew that by the time it came to print, each story would read differently. One story would tell of their heroic victory from their Kingdom of Ashes to the ruins of an ancient school, while another would tell of their downfall, it would tell the world what it wanted to know, not what it needed to know. And oh, how right she was.
From War to Love
Reported by Rita Skeeter
It hasn’t taken Miss Granger long to feel at home again, has it dear readers? Rumor has it that Miss Granger — the ‘other’ member of The Golden Trio — and Mr. Weasley were seen in London having a large row in a muggle coffee shop. When I entered that coffee shop (the name shall remain undisclosed) later in the week, it became apparent that Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley were having an argument over another boy. The lovely waitress I talked too replied that she did not hear a name mentioned throughout the row. Although, my sources tell me that it was over Mr. Viktor Krum, whom, if dear readers, you remember, was Miss Grangers first love interest back in her fourth year.
Miss Granger, the brains of the fabulous trio, seems to be trusting her heart over her head lately. Is that really a wise move, Hermione? You do remember what happened last time, don’t you? You remember, don’t you dear readers? She chose Mr. Krum — the famous Bulgarian quidditch player — over Mr. Potter.
Has the additional member of The Golden Trio broken the heart of Mr. Weasley for the last time?
More on page 5
Hermione stared at the paper, an unknown emotion boiling in her throat. She tried to reason with her thoughts, she tried to tell them that it wasn’t true, but nothing was working. Her mind had already devised several ways to kill Rita Skeeter. She had no right to post that! Curling her fists into tight balls, Hermione inhaled deeply. She wasn’t going to let this get to her, but it did. That was the problem. This got to her.
Exhaling, Hermione closed her eyes, in a forlorn attempt to stop the tears that were threatening to appear. Opening her eyes, an idea came into Hermione’s mind. A terrible idea. An idea that would only benefit her.
She was going to do it.
She wasn’t going back. She was sick of the way that the public looked at her: “The brains,”
“The additional member of the Golden Trio,” and “The bushy haired, muggleborn Hermione Jean Granger,”
She wasn’t going to tell anyone she was leaving. She was sick of everything; not just Rita Skeeter, but the entire wizarding world. Ever since she became friends with Harry and Ron.
Hermione took one last fleeting glance around the burrow and frivolous memories returned rapidly.
‘No!’ she told herself firmly. She was leaving, there was discussion—not sure what you mean here, but it’s really awkward and doesn’t make much sense. She didn’t want to leave them, she loved Harry, she loved Ginny, and she defiantly loved Ron, but she knew deep down that this was the only option.
Since the article had been published, she had confined herself to the rickety walls of The Burrow; telling everyone that she had caught the flu. No one questioned her. When, in truth, she had been packing. One small thing at a time.
Blinking away the tears, Hermione tightened her grasp on her bag and spun around on the spot, leaving no trace that she ever existed in their lives. It would be another six hours until everyone would wake up and discover her missing.
Ginny woke up the next morning to find Hermione’s bed already made neat and tidy. Not a crease in the sheet folds. Ginny smiled.
“Typical Hermione,” she said to herself, burying her head in her linen sheets. “She’s probably having breakfast already,” she added, closing her eyes again.
The battle was over and there was no reason for her and Harry to not be together forever. “Just like the fairytales,” she smiled into her pillow.
“Ginny!” Harry said loudly from outside her door. Ginny jumped out of bed, and, throwing on a pair of crumpled jeans and a top she ran down the stairs. Harry and Ron stood at the bottom of the stairs, both wearing the same clothes that they had worn yesterday.
“This had better be good,” Ginny grumbled as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.
“Have you seen Hermione?” Harry asked, rubbing his eyes. Ginny assumed that neither Ron nor Harry had gotten any sleep last night and she couldn’t blame them. Ginny only had around four hours of sleep herself.
“You woke me up to ask for Hermione?” Ginny said, folding her arms across her chest. “Why do you look so worried?” she added when she saw the concerned looks on the boy’s faces.
“We asked her to meet Ron and I at the top of the hill a few hours ago,” Harry explained, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“Hermione?” Ron asked, peering over Ginny’ shoulder, hoping to see Hermione.
“She’s not in there,” Ginny said, indicating to her room. “Harry, listen, I’m sure Hermione will be back. It’s the aftermath and everyone’s in shock. And we all know Hermione, she’s probably just gone for a walk,” Ginny said thoughtfully, entwining her hand with Harry’s. Both boys pondered on that statement for a moment before nodding and realizing that they overreacted.
“You’re probably right,” Harry said, kissing Ginny and running back down the stairs quickly, Ron followed in suit. But Hermione didn’t return the next day, or the day after that. By the end of the month, the list of the missing went up and Hermione’s name was there, printed in black.
Hogwarts re-opened their doors the next year and only Ginny returned to school. Both Harry and Ron joined the ministry as aurors, keeping an eye out for Hermione. Neither of them wanted to accept that she was missing. Hermione, their Hermione, wouldn’t just go missing. They never gave up searching.
Hermione sunk into her couch and turned the television on, she had no idea what she watching but it was a good way to pass the time. It had been almost two years since she left Hogwarts and no one had found her yet. Occasionally, she would see someone she went to school with in the busy streets of London, but they never saw her. She had mastered the art of becoming invisible whilst still completely visible.
Ring, Ring, Ring, Ring, Hermione’s landline started to ring. Muting the television, she answered the phone.
“Hello, Hermione Granger speaking,” she said automatically.
“Hello, this is Mrs. Avalon calling from St. Peter’s boarding school. How are you?” A smile spread across Hermione’s face when she heard the voice of Mrs. Avalon. Several weeks back, Hermione had applied as a teacher at boarding schools around England in an attempt to get a job.
“I’m good, how are you?” Hermione replied, running her free hand through her hair. Through the phone, Hermione could hear the scraping of chairs on wooden floor.
“I’m good, I’m good. I have talked to the other teachers at St. Peter’s and we have all taken your application into great consideration, and, after watching your interview video we have decided to offer you the position as the English Teacher.”
“Really?” Hermione exclaimed. Taking a deep breath, Hermione regained her composure and said in the calmest voice she could manage. “Thank you, thank you so much!”
Mrs. Avalon laughed slightly. “It’s okay, your resume was quite... Remarkable, if I do say so myself.” Hermione’s eyes shifted uncomfortably. Her mind quickly went back to the moment when she wrote her resume. “How soon can you come?”
“I can be there by the end of today,” Hermione said, she only used magic in certain circumstances. She could disapparate there quickly.
“That would be great, Miss Granger!” Mrs. Avalon exclaimed.
“I’ll see you there then,” Hermione said and hung up the phone, excitement running through her veins. Hermione let out a small squeal of happiness and began to pack her things. Sighing, Hermione grabbed her wand and, muttering a few words under her breath, she watched as all of her things zoomed neatly into her suitcase.
She packed up her clothes and everything into a large suitcase and disapparated to the town about a mile away from St. Peters, where she caught a bus to the school.
It was old, but not nearly as old as Hogwarts. The school was large and in the late Victorian style with lots of windows and steps leading up to a large, oak door. There was even a small verandah that overhung from the second floor. Vines were creeping up the walls and a large oak tree projected over the left side of the school. A fountain lay outside the doors.
“Wow,” Hermione said to herself and knocked on the large, oak doors. She waited patiently for several minutes until someone opened the door. Someone she did not expect.
A.N: Yes, re-edited again, but you have to admit this one is better right? We know why she left :) Even though I've said it in my summary, I have to thank my beta "EnigmaticEyes16" who is writing the amazing Sirrah Malfoy.
This story is undergoing major changes and (hopefully) will make more sense when it's done :)
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