A/N: I like a strong, intelligent, and powerful Hermione in my stories so beware. I also like a strong and powerful Harry that's not a passive lump of emotionless clay.

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Chapter 1

Harry watched as students reunited with their parents, hugging them tightly and murmuring their 'I love yous'. As it did every year, the swell of jealousy filled him and he sighed. A recurring dram of his was he would return to the Platform and his own parents welcoming him back after a school year.

Merlin knows he needed that, now more than ever.

He received his normal crushing hug from Mrs. Weasley and a weary glance followed by a pat on the back from Ron before the Weasley brood hurried on back to the Burrow. Ever since he had a conversation between his two best friends about the general idea of what had happened in the graveyard, he almost felt the disbelief from Ron, which really hurt. He expected Ron to at least believe him, he already knew Hermione would.

During their relatively silent train ride back, Harry guessed that with Ron and the Weasleys being raised on horror stories of Voldemort, it was scary to think that he was back. It would be like someone in the muggle world being told that Vampires were real...which they were, but muggles remained blissfully ignorant of that.

He had felt numb ever since the day after the task, too many emotions were running through him, guilt being at the forefront, that he just shut down. The days just blurred together and he went through the motions, but, to his dismay, his mind stayed occupied. He saw Cedric's death, Voldemort's return, Crouch Jr. almost killing him. Over and over again...

He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned to see Hermione looking at him, her face set in determination with the same car she always had in her brown eyes. She suddenly pulled him in for a tight hug and Harry loosely returned it, a small flicker inside of him enjoying the contact. He was growing used to Hermione's contact, he might even say comfortable. Some days he found himself craving it, but he wasn't sure if anyone else touching him would have the same influence on him.

"Do you trust me?" she suddenly whispered. It was so low that if her mouth hadn't been right next to his ear, he wouldn't have heard it.

The question momentarily threw him off guard, how sudden and random it was, combined with the intensity in her voice. "Yes."

"I'm sorry that I took this," she said, opening her trunk and pulling out nothing, before he felt the watery material as she passed it into his hands. She must have nicked his invisibility cloak from his bag since he started carrying it everywhere. Paranoia was another effect of the graveyard. The cloak could at least offer him a way out if he needed it. Voldemort could be anywhere now, and he was surprised that he hadn't noticed Hermione taking it. It must have been when he went to the bathroom on the train when Ron was sleeping.

She had wrapped something in the material to keep it invisible; something very thick and solid, but not very heavy. 'Featherlight charms?' he wondered. Giving her a confused look, she just shook her head. "Put it on top of your trunk and don't open it until tomorrow night. Trust me, Harry."

With that, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek, lingering a little longer than necessary that made both cheeks color. He felt a swooping sensation in his chest that wasn't unpleasant, it actually felt kind of nice. She squeezed him in a quick hug once more, before she pushed her trolley through the barrier, leaving behind a blushing, stunned Harry.

He quickly put the invisible item on top of his trunk walked in a daze through the barrier, seeing his relatives waiting for him. Vernon scowled when he saw him, but, thankfully, didn't say anything as Harry loaded his trunk into the back of the car.

An even bigger blessing was that the car ride to Privet Drive was silent. It gave him time to think about Hermione's words and actions, which left an unsettled feeling in his gut.

Something was wrong, but he figured he would have to wait until tomorrow night to find out what.

Hermione sat in the back of her parent's car and stared out her window as they started their journey home. The tears had started falling as soon as she kissed his cheek, but he thankfully didn't see them. It had taken a lot of courage for her to do that, and even more for her to walk away.

"Everything will be okay, love," Anna Granger told her daughter soothingly. Hermione nodded her head, but that didn't stop the tears from falling as she gazed at King's Cross, remembering it as her direct connection to Hogwarts.

"This is what we've been planning for." David Granger said as he pulled away from the station, trying to placate his daughter, but knew that this would be hard on her. They hadn't been looking forward to this week since they started planning, but they needed to do this and if they did it right, things would be set the way they should have been.

"I know, but I don't want to forget my best friend, mum," Hermione voice cracked as she all but-wailed the words.

The sight of her daughter's devastated face and the cracking of her voice made her climb from the front seat into the back, pulling her sobbing daughter into a warm embrace as her father glanced in the mirror at his girls. Hermione had been friendless her entire life, so when she wrote about making friends with this Harry Potter, both were ecstatic. It was taking a lot to give up the one thing Hermione wanted in her life, but it would be worth it in the end.

"It's a necessary sacrifice, Hermione. It's for his well-being, and I know that you care about that," she murmured in her daughter's ear.

"More than anything," Hermione said earnestly, her heart-breaking when she thought about Harry's expression over the last couple of days. He looked lost and lonely. To think that he would be going through that with the muggles who mistreated him killed her.

"Sacrifices need to be made. This is the only way to keep you both safe," Anna brushed her hair through her daughter's unruly hair, the same hair she inherited from her. She placed a kiss on her crown as David sped toward Kent, toward their home. Both were sure it would be the last journey they made from King's Cross.

Minerva McGonagall sat in her office, quite upset over the letter she had just read. Miss Granger had dropped it off on her way down to the carriages. She read it a couple of times, making sure her eyes weren't betraying her and took out the bottle of Jameson she kept in her desk.

Miss Granger had such potential to do great things in the wizarding world, but her parents were adamant that she be pulled from the magical world all together. The letter stated that their decision was final and nothing could change their minds. Even though Albus was all the muggleborn students magical guardian, the word of their parents and decisions regarding their child was still theirs.

Minerva was in charge of affairs like this, which made her question why Albus was the guardian when he also had Headmaster, Chief Warlock, and Supreme Mugwump duties to complete. She rolled her eyes remembering his condescension when she brought this matter up.

She had been gradually losing faith in the old Headmaster each year that Harry Potter had been in Hogwarts, but found herself going along with his plans. 'It was for the greater good,' her brain said, though her conscience wanted to disagree. Her head ached and she rubbed her temples, flicking her wand for the whiskey to pour into a glass. The whiskey burned on the way down, but soothed and steadied her. It was a couple of minutes later that she finally stood up, knowing what she had to do.

Reluctantly, she pulled her coat over her shoulders and placed her hat on, before she stepped in her fireplace. She was not looking forward for her journey to the Ministry to report a student dropping out.

Wake up. Make breakfast. Eat scraps. Clean the dishes. Vaccuum the carpet. Make lunch. Eat scraps. Mop the floor. Dust the surfaces. Mow the lawn. Make dinner. Eat scraps. Clean the dishes.

It was nothing new to Harry as he trudged up to his room when they day was done, though there was a slight bounce in his step as he could finally find out what Hermione had given him. He walked in and locked his door, before slipping Hedwig some meat from dinner, to which she hooted a thank you.

He hadn't even unwrapped it from his cloak, leaving it on top of his trunk and saw that it was a plain black box. He lifted the top off and saw inside were three books, a manila folder, along with an envelope at the top with his name on it. He quickly tore it open and read it.

He read it once, twice, a third time to make sure he was actually reading what he was reading. He felt like he had swallowed a dry pill while his stomach had dropped to the floor. He never even realized that he was crying until he tasted salt and felt wetness on his cheeks.

Harry usually hated crying, some times he could distinctly recall was when he found out that Sirius was his godfather because he thought he had betrayed his parents, another time was when he came back from the graveyard with Cedric, laying over the sixth years dead body as he cried 'he's back! Voldemort's back!'

Harry needed a reason to cry and this reason was warranted - Hermione had left the magical world.

He glanced down to the letter in his hands once more,

Harry,

I'm really sorry.

That's all I can really say about what you went through. There are really no words, but I was glad that you had decided to open up and talk to me about it.

Unfortunately, and I'm afraid that I must be blunt, but by the time you read this, I will have no memory of you. I will have no idea who you are, I will not recognize you if you approached me, I will have no recollections of our four adventurous years at Hogwarts. I won't even be a witch anymore.

The reason of this is because my mum and dad have decided to pull me from Hogwarts and, in turn, the magical world. There are no secrets between us and I have told them about Voldemort, his stands, and how powerful he is. They were terrified for me, even before I came to Hogwarts after reading my books, but now they want me away completely. Nothing I can say will change their minds.

I didn't tell you this yesterday was because I simply couldn't. I couldn't look at you and say goodbye, knowing it was the last time I'd see you, the last time I'd recognize you. Some Gryffindor I am. Maybe the hat should have put me in Ravenclaw like it was going to.

I'm going to miss you so much, Harry. You are the greatest friend I have ever had and will ever had. I don't think any muggles would jump on the back of a twelve foot troll to keep someone safe. I would also like to thank you for being this annoying know-it-all's friend when she really needed one. You are a great wizard and an even better person.

To remember me by, I think that you should keep these books of mine. The one top is my favorite and even though you treat reading like a disease, I think you'll find it interesting.

Maybe we'll see each other again, someday. I wish only the best for you, Harry James Potter.

Love,

Hermione

Hedwig must have sensed his turmoil because she flew over to him and perched on his shoulder, rubbing her head against his in a show of comfort.

Thoughts about Hermione left an unsettled feeling in his gut. Now that she was gone, he felt much like he had when he saw her laying on that hospital bed petrified - hollow. He dropped the letter on the floor and placed his face in his hands, feeling like he was floating in the dark abyss, no direction, no reason, nothingness.

He immediately reached into the box and took out the top book she had mentioned - Mansfield Park by Jane Austen. He pictured Hermione reading Jane Austen, all those romance books that he heard girls liked.

He lifted the book to his nose and inhaled, smiling sadly when he caught some of Hermione's scent through the old paper smell. She always smelled so good, which he noticed whenever she hugged him. Like vanilla and old parchment, and her hair, while bushy, was soft and always smelled clean.

He glanced at the other things in the box and took out the manila folder and saw that it was all pictures of him and Hermione. He saw one from first year that was just the two of them outside and picked it up, a fresh set of tears stinging his eyes. At the bottom border, in Hermione's neat first year scrawl, was written - Harry and Hermione, Best Friends Forever.

He frowned as he noticed that Ron had been cut out of every picture and it was just him and Hermione. 'Maybe she had done it after one of their rows,' he shrugged, knowing that they weren't exactly close friends since last year.

He must have looked through the photos for two hours because it was pitch black outside as the sun was still out when he first came to his room. He placed the pictures on his desk before picking Mansfield Park up again.

Above the first chapter heading, there was something written,

If you have me, you want to share me. If you share me, you haven't got me. What am I?

A riddle. Was this Hermione's last lesson to him? He shook his head and put the book on the desk, before dragging himself to his bed. He didn't feel like moving at all, he chest felt empty knowing he wouldn't see Hermione at school next year. He wouldn't see her eyes lighten up when she explained a new piece of information to them, he wouldn't see her mutter 'honestly' when he and Ron did something stupid. He wouldn't watch with amusement as she scolded Ron for his bad table manners. He wouldn't see her face anymore, and this made him really sad.

If you have me, you want to share me...if you share me, you haven't got me...

It rolled around Harry's head as he laid down, staring at the ceiling. He laid on his back, his right side, his left side. His mind couldn't seem to shut down from trying to solve the riddle. Hermione did things with reason, she wouldn't have just wrote it for no reason. She was also never one to really keep secrets from him...

The metaphorical light bulb clicked on over his head.

Secret.

If you have me, you want to share me...if you share me, you haven't got me...

"A secret."

As soon as he whispered he words, there was a blue glow out of the corner of his eyes. Snapping his head over, the book was glowing a dark blue causing Harry to suck in a short breath. He scrambled out of his small bad and over to the book, picking it up and opening it to the first chapter where the glow was.

He then watched transfixed as Jane Austen's words disappeared into the page, reminding him of the diary in his second year, before new scrawl appeared - a very familiar, neat handwritten scrawl.

Hello, Harry.

His eyes widened, "Hermione..."

I am writing this on April 22 in the Hogwarts library, hidden behind a stack of books. You've went off with Ron, doing whatever you boys do. Probably playing exploding snap or chess or just fooling around.

I apologize for being so sneaky, but I didn't want anyone intercepting this and bollixing up all my hard work.

Now, by the time you read this, I will have still technically left the magical world and will have no memory of you. Honestly, my parents and I have been planning this since last month while researching even longer. I've been staying up late and studying runes, charms, spells, anything I can get my hands on to help with this plan.

It's not safe for us anymore, Harry, for reasons that I will explain, but we have some things to do first.

I'm so glad you figured out the riddle, of course it was a logic riddle because what am I always saying witches and wizards lack? It'll keep these private should anyone try to snoop. The riddles will continue above each chapter along with another one of these notes and you need to solve each one by saying them out loud for another letter to appear. I think this will help strengthen your brain a bit. This took a lot of charms and runes work to do, so I just pray that it works.

Anyway, we should get to the point. Harry, you know that I would never lie to you, I would never betray you - disregard the Firebolt incident because I was looking out for your safety - and I would never hurt you. If you truly trust me, Harry, open the large brown tome.

Harry glanced in the box and found it at the bottom. It was heavy, but felt a little hollow and their it made a clinking noise when he moved it to his bed. Frowning, he opened it, eyes widening when he saw that there was a square section cut out of the paper.

In the square, he found a vial full of a bubbly green liquid inside of it, a small dagger like the one used for potions, and a sharpener for it. He glanced back to the book,

Drink the potion. I will warn you that the next twelve hours or so won't be pleasant, but it is extremely necessary for you.

However, if you choose not to, then all I ask is that you burn everything I have given to you and dump the potions down the drain. You can either get rid of or keep the pictures.

I really hope that you put your trust in my hands with this. More information will follow.

I also ask that you not come looking for me. I don't want to hurt you by not knowing who you are. I know it would hurt terribly if I approached you and you didn't know who I was.

Good luck, Harry.

- HJG

His mind was reeling and his eyes shifted over to the potion bottle with the unappetizing liquid inside of it. It definitely looked unpleasant to ingest, but Hermione said that it was necessary. He had no idea why she was being sneaky like this, but like he said, Hermione did things for a reason.

He frowned as he read, 'It's not safe for us, anymore,' since this was written before the third task. She wasn't talking about Voldemort, so what was she talking about. 'More information will follow.' That was incentive enough to drink the potion and find out what the hell was going on.

He picked up the potion and uncorked the top, bringing it to his lips before he felt like warm water rushed over him and his limbs went heavy. It was kind of like how he felt when the fake-Moody put him under the Imperius.

'Don't do this, Harry. You should contact Professor Dumbledore and tell him about this. She did the same thing last year with the Firebolt...' something whispered in his ear and Harry jumped, turning to see that he was still alone in his room. It was a low hissing like voice, similar to when he heard the Basilisk in second year.

'It's Hermione. She's your best friend,' another voice argued, sounding stronger than the other one. Soothing and warm, kind of like how he'd imagine his mother's voice to be. It also added the determination to his body again, ridding the hazy feeling.

'Ron is your best friend, Hermione is merely homework help when needed. You can't trust her, you can trust the Headmaster or Ron. Why don't you write them about this? I'm sure Ron would love to talk. Maybe you could talk to Ginny, too. She's a good listener and very pretty too...'

'No,' the voice cut through his confusing thoughts like a knife. 'Hermione is your best friend, Harry. Think of everything she's done for you. First year, she saved you by lighting Snape's robes on fire? Or solving the riddle - no way you would have been able to solve it. Then she did something no one had ever done before when she hugged you. Remember how nice that felt? What about becoming petrified so that she could research int he library? What about third year when she reported the broom, knowing she would bear the brunt of your anger, just so you could be safe. She helped save Sirius, without the time turned, he would be dead. She spent hours researching in the library for you, to help you with the tournament. Then you pushed her aside in favor of Ron, just like you always do. So, what are you going to do, Harry?' he felt a warm feeling all around, like the feeling he got when Hermione hugged him.

"I trust you, Hermione." he said, before downing the rancid potion with a grimace.

Hermione, once again, was right.

The next twelve hours, Harry had made frequent trips to the bathroom, the potion completely flushing his system from both of the main orifices of his body. He had woken up at three am and made it to the bathroom just in time, only to reappear at five am. Thankfully, Vernon and Dudley could give Ron a run for his money in snoring and Petunia slept with ear plugs in, so they didn't hear him throwing up. He was sure he would be in for a punishment if they did.

As he made them breakfast, trying to breathe through his mouth so he didn't throw up all over the greasy bacon and the thick pancakes, he wondered what was Hermione's reason for this and swore that they had better be good.

He was pretty sure that with the way he was feeling, he would have disposed of the box and flushed the potions, but he remembered what the letter said - it was necessary. He just hoped that Hermione had a good reason for making him feel like rubbish.

It was also paired with the fact that his aunt's screechy voice was making him crawl around her garden, de-weeding it. As a little payback, he up-chucked on her roses with a smile.

When she saw, she went ape-shit and had ordered him back inside and up to his room, promising that Vernon would hear about it later. Harry, feeling the way he did, didn't even mind as he collapsed on his lumpy bed to rest, closing his eyes. His stomach was still rolling around a bit and he decided to go the bathroom just in case.

When Harry opened his eyes, he wasn't in his bed. He wasn't even at Privet Drive anymore. He was standing in front of the local cinema that Dudley always goes to. Glancing around, he saw that the street was completely empty, no cars, no people, nothing.

As he walked inside, he saw that the lobby was empty. Movie posters with bold letters displaying NOW PLAYING were blank, there were no employees or other movie-goers. It was empty, and creepy, and silent.

"Hello?" he called, his voice cutting into the silence, echoing a bit. Harry felt a sliver of fear and reached in his pocket for his wand, but came up empty. He cursed himself for not having it while cautiously walking through the theatre, trying to find someone. He stopped up short at the writing on a door.

Harry James Potter
July 31, 1980 - ?

His mind went blank as he felt himself opening the door and walking into the theatre, glancing around to see it empty, but the large screen was on. He walked toward the seats and took one in the middle. As soon as he sat down, the screen started counting down from five and Harry glanced back where the projection was, wondering who was operating it...if anyone...

The picture formed on the screen and if Harry wasn't sitting, he would have ended up on the floor. It was his mum and dad cuddling with him as a baby, Lily cooing while James looked on proudly, his loving gaze switching from his mum to him. He watched speechless, feeling the tears rolling down his cheeks at the family moment he so yearned for.

A large black dog padded into the room and his baby face immediately lit up as Padfoot changed into Sirius. He watched as Sirius picked him up and swung him around, making him laugh.

Similar scenes followed, each bringing the tears and laughs at his dad parading around with house as Prongs with Harry on his back, Lily scolding him for doing it while his dad looked thoroughly scared of his mum's fiery temper, his mum reading him a bedtime story, cuddling with his dad on the couch. He laughed as his dad brought out his broom and letting Harry on it, only for his mum to scream at him for endangering Harry and threatening relegating him to the couch.

Then came Halloween.

"Lily, it's him! Take Harry and run!"

He watched as his dad defended, wandless, tried to stop Voldemort from entering the house. He watched his father struck down by the Killing Curse. He watched in agony as his mother whispered her loving words as Voldemort walked into the room. She immediately placed herself as a barrier of infallible love between himself and the Darkest and one of the most powerful wizards to ever live.

Sirius showed up, his face twisted in rage that turned to relief as he saw baby Harry alive. Sirius tried to get Hagrid to give him Harry, but Hagrid shook his head. Sirius then went after Peter only to end up in Azkaban.

'Dumbledore's orders?' Harry thought with a frown, 'But Sirius is my godfather!'

He watched as Dumbledore and McGonagall just left him on the doorstep of the Durselys, despite McGonagall's warnings about them. Dumbledore's orders...

"He wanted me placed with the Dursleys!" Harry thought, enraged. Hagrid could have just given him to Sirius and he would have been safe, he wouldn't have had to watch the next ten years.

The scenes following, depicting his years at the Dursleys were watched with nothing but apathy. All the neglect, the starvation, and sometimes abuse was just a typical day in Harry Potter's life.

He felt momentary anger toward the gentle giant, even as he took him away on his birthday. He knew that Hagrid trusted Dumbledore whole-heartedly, and that he was following his orders, but he couldn't help but think that things could have been different.

He smiled when he received Hedwig, his faithful familiar. He watched his face fill with awe at the sight of the Hogwarts Express, meeting the Weasley twins, then meeting with his first friend, Ron.

"Everywhere else full," the gangly ginger said, his face scrunched up.

'But, that's impossible. Hermione said that the Express magically charms compartments if you need them,' Harry thought before frowning as he showed the awestruck boy his scar.

He felt a warm, swelling sensation in his chest as he looked at bossy, eleven year old Hermione. "Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."

Her face flashed with excitement as she saw Ron's wand out as he attempted to turn the rat yellow. Her face was disappointed and relieved that he didn't succeed in the spell and it all clicked to Harry. At first, he thought she was haughty and a bit annoying, but now he knew about Hermione's insecurities. She was disappointed at not seeing her first bout of magic from someone else, but also relieved that she wasn't behind.

From the first second, Ron treated her with disdain and subtle efforts to keep him and Hermione separated. Harry saw himself nod at Ron's, "Whatever House she's in, I hope I'm not."

He watched the flying lesson with a smile, his first experience on a broom, he watched Snape's constant disdain for him. The abuse he threw at Neville, Hermione, Ron, and all the Gryffindors, the ridiculous point deductions.

Then there was Halloween again.

"She's a nightmare - honestly! It's no wonder she doesn't have any friends!" Harry felt his hand clenching, wanting to punch his git of a friend in the face, and then punch his eleven year old self as Hermione ran off crying. Her face was pure rejection and hurt, and seeing it now felt like cold spikes were shooting into his heart.

"I think she heard you," his eleven year old self muttered, not seeing an ounce of guilt on Ron who just shrugged.

Harry felt like right shit, watching himself allow someone the same treatment he had gone through at the Dursleys. When Quirrel announced the troll, he knew that he had to warn Hermione about it. He couldn't just let her die and dragged a reluctant Ron along with him.

Jumping on the troll was the only thing he could think of to distract it. He rolled his eyes when Ron successfully used the levitation charm he mocked Hermione for. He, nor Ron, could believe that she actually lied for them.

He watched all their adventures and frowned when they came to the obstacles that first years were able to complete. It was a little odd how each was perfectly assigned to each of their strengths. First years, yet it was supposed to guard the stone from Voldemort?

Second year started with their reckless attempt at driving to Hogwarts in the Weasleys car. Really, what the hell were they thinking? If they had just waited for Mrs. Weasley, she would have seen that they didn't get on the train and would have contacted McGonagall to come get them?

It seemed that only Hermione truly believed that he wasn't evil during the heir of Slytherin, even Ron was a little skeptical.

He truly looked as lost as he had felt when he saw Hermione lying on the bed petrified, and even now he was feeling the loss of Hermione. Killing the Basilisk was mostly because it had hurt Hermione, his best friend, so he had to kill it for her. He smiled at the pure joy on his face when he saw her un-petrified and the hug that followed.

He frowned, 'Hermione is brilliant, but isn't it a little obvious that Slytherin's monster would have been a snake? How could a second year figure it out, but the teacher's couldn't?'

Third year, he let Ron lead him around by the nose in ignoring Hermione for the Firebolt incident, only talking to her when he had received it back from McGonagall. What kind of friend did that make him? If it wasn't for Hermione and her time turner, Sirius would have been kissed. She helped him keep his last piece of family.

Why did Sirius not get a trial? No one investigated this? Dumbledore could have ordered a trial, for Merlin's sake!

After his name came out of the Goblet, he saw the look of jealousy and anger on Ron's face while Hermione tried to push him to go with the Champions, knowing that the jeers would start and didn't want him to hear it. She stuck by him, though, and that thought made him smile.

He watched as Hermione threw herself into research, standing by him when everyone else thought he was a cheater. She helped him through everything, kept him motivated and focused while he remained broody. As he watched, he felt like he had been using her for research.

The pathetic apology Ron offered to Harry and the way he accepted so quickly, so needy made him frown while the hurt paired with the resigned look on Hermione's face nearly broke him in half. It was then back to Ron and Harry hanging out while coming to Hermione when they needed homework help. She was resigned the backseat while Ron was first again, while she kept researching spells to help him in the tournament.

Why did he forgive quicker for his disbelief and harsh words so quickly, than Hermione for telling McGonagall? Was it because Ron was his first friend? Did he feel obligated? Why was all of this clear to him now, when maybe he should have distanced himself from Ron.

The Yule Ball was an eye opener to how truly beautiful Hermione was, especially in those robes. He felt a flash of envy as she enjoyed herself dancing with Viktor while he and Ron sat with their thumbs up their arses. He remembered the swooping feeling in his chest as he looked at her, the warmth spreading from his head to his toes. Unfortunately, he was at a loss for what it all meant. One big question ran through his mind, however - why didn't he ask her?

The second task passed, his confusion in who he was supposed to take, Hermione or Ron? He chuckled at his look of outrage the shark-Krum took Hermione leaving him to take Ron and Gabrielle. Hermione was his best friend, but one date to the Yule Ball and she was the thing Krum would miss the most?

The graveyard was watched with the familiar numb feeling and he had to close his eyes at Cedric's death. Watching it again, but actually seeing the look of terror and fear on his face, but also some of his Gryffindor Lionheart made it...real.

Voldemort was back.

The screen cut to black and Harry suddenly felt a falling sensation. He snapped his eyes open to see that he was back in th smallest bedroom at Privet Drive. Looking at his watch, he saw that it was eight at night. When he looked out the window, the car was gon and he figured they had gone out to dinner.

He thought back to his...dream? Everything that had happened to Harry seemed a little too convenient and illogical. Everything seemed to be set up perfectly, he was raised in the Dursleys with Sirius out of the way. He was weak, pliable, easily swayed, clinging to support from adult figures in his life. Though, they really gave none. The only constant support he received in all of his years was from Hermione.

It's not safe for us, anymore.

"You're brilliant, Hermione." Harry said with a smile and a shake of his head. She had figured it out and she was trying to help him, and he would follow whatever plan she had. She had never led him wrong before. He groaned and sat up in bed as his stomach rolled once more, quickly rushing to the bathroom to empty his stomach.

In Kent, a family of three gathered around their family table, cartons of Chinese take out scattered around as they looked at brochures of different schools for their daughter. She had been having some trouble in her former school that caused them to have to change.

The Grangers were upper middle class dentists with their own practice and could afford to send their daughter to the best schools in Europe. They were torn between Benenden School which was local or Headingtom School in Oxford. They knew that their daughter had some trouble fitting in since most considered her too bookish and a know-it-all.

As a child, even as a toddler, she couldn't relate to kids who wanted to run around and play hide in seek, getting dirty and not caring. The ones who she could relate to were older and didn't want to hang out with someone younger than them. Anna blamed herself for Hermione's obsession with books.

After Hermione was born, they had found out that she would be the only Granger child and she didn't want to go wrong with the way she raised her. She bought Hermione book after book, first starting with picture and pop-up books, moving on to regular fairy tales until she was a ten year old reading Pride and Prejudice while other children were playing at the park.

It was too late before Anna realized that Hermione was lost within encyclopedia facts and fictional lands where no bullies lurked. It was heart-breaking to see that she had been to blame, at least in part, of Hermione's anomalous behavior for a child.

"Which one do you think, sweetheart?" she asked as she held up the brochures, pulling her daughter's attention from the thick book in her hand.

She grimaced at the sight, "Mum, can't we do this later? Registration isn't required until August," the bushy haired brunette tried to put it off, grimacing at the brochure in her hands.

Anna Granger gave her daughter a look like she wanted to argue, before a hand on her thigh stopped her. Turning her head, she locked eyes with a pair of brown ones that her daughter inherited. In a soft voice, David placated his wife. "Darling, I think that we can afford to wait it a bit, don't you?"

"Alright, Hermione. But, I think that these schools will better than the last," Anna said optimistically.

Hermione gave her mother a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she returned her attention back to her book. Truthfully, she had dreaded going to school, knowing what would await her. The teasing, the name-calling, the general isolation from her peers. She had never had a friend before in her life and desperately wanted one that would accept her for her.