One year. That's how long it had been since Voldemort fell. In scientific terms, a year is the period of solar days required for one revolution of the earth around the sun. Hermione no longer thought in scientific terms however. To her it was just another day in hell.

Sighing to herself, she rolled out of bed and stumbled over to the sliding glass door of her balcony, pulling on a pair of boxers and t-shirt along the way. Still bleary with sleep, she squinted one eye and glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 3:41 AM. She knew better than to try to go back to sleep. Sleep was as elusive as the nargles Luna was always on about. Smirking, she stepped out onto the patio, letting the warm ocean breeze soothe her nerves. She was always twitchy when she first woke up. At first she assumed it was because she was always dreaming of Malfoy Manor. When that crazy bitch crucio'd her to hell and back again. Lately though, she knew it was more than that.

She let out a small growl of annoyance before snatching her cigarettes off the patio table. She pulled out a joint and put it up to lips as she heard the sliding glass door open. Turning, she sparked it; inhaling deeply and glancing up at her visitor. She watched the tanned blonde goddess fall into the nearest seat and leaned back against the railing, blowing a cloud of smoke into the breeze. She took another drag before she offered it to the blonde who took a long, slow hit off it while gazing at Hermione, her eyes filled with lust reflecting in the moonlight shining down on them. She just grinned back at the girl, realizing she didn't even remember her name. She was just the latest in her conquests. Something to pass the time with. Dull her senses and keep her mind off her past.

Taking the joint from the girl she turned back to the rail, watching the waves roll in. Hermione glanced down at her throbbing arm, seeing the jagged "mudblood" glaring back up at her, still raw and red. It refused to heal and she kept it hidden under a glamour at all times. She rubbed at it absently, taking another hit to numb the pain. The blonde came up behind her and wrapped her arms around her waist, nibbling the side of her neck. "Why do you keep staring down at your arm?" Hermione sucked in a breath and flinched away from her, her hackles immediately up at having been caught. "I think you should leave now, Maria." The blonde scoffed and pushed away from her. "My name is Jennifer", she all but screeched at Hermione. Wincing at the shrill tone, Hermione shrugged dismissively and several moments later she heard the door to her apartment slam shut.

She collapsed into the recently vacated chair, stamping out the joint in the ashtray before scrubbing her face with her hands. Today was the anniversary of the end of the second Wizarding War. They had been hailed as heroes, but the Golden Girl was as far from golden as she could be. The war had changed everyone, but perhaps the most surprising changes had been in Hermione herself. The girl who once thought that being expelled was the worst thing in the world, had done a 180.

In the days following the end of the war Hermione had struggled to return to normalcy. She tracked down her parents and returned their memories, explaining to them why she had done what she had. They were furious but most of all, hurt beyond belief. They had asked for time; time to come to grips with what she now was and what she had done to them. They were no longer as accepting of her being a witch now they fully realized what she could do with the magic she wielded. War weary and with no place to stay, she had headed to the Leaky Cauldron. Unfortunately, being the Golden Girl did not offer her the privacy she needed to recoup her thoughts. After spending a night drowning her sorrows in firewhiskey, she realized she needed time away. Away from the wizarding world. Away from where every person on every corner knew her name and had an opinion and pre-conceived notion of her. Just away. So she decided to get out and see the world. To go to places where no one knew her and she could be whoever she wanted to be. After a quick owl to Harry and Ron to tell them not to worry and she'd be back when she could, she'd set off. She'd been bouncing around from continent to continent ever since.

Currently, she was renting a condo off Ft. Lauderdale beach and tending bar to make ends meet. She had become the epitome of "party girl". It kept her mind off the things she'd rather not remember. It wasn't the healthiest way of coping, but it wasn't like she could rattle off to a therapist about a wizarding war without being branded a complete nutter and locked away. At least that was one of the many ways she justified it in her mind.

Scratching the back of her neck, she grabbed a cigarette from the packet and lit it, rubbing at her now throbbing temples. All this reminiscing wasn't going to do wonders for her sleep. She flicked the ash off the end of her cigarette and brought it up to her lips as she felt something warm and wet on her arm. Glancing up at the sky she furrowed her brow. Not a cloud to be found. Looking back down, she realized she was bleeding. She dropped her smoke into the ashtray and closed her arm around the letters carved into her arm, her head swimming at the pain it caused.

Groaning, she got up and headed to the bathroom, shoving it under the sink and rinsing it as best she could. As she was trying to decide if she should shower or just bandage it she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Feeling a prickle on the edge of her magic, she realized someone had apparated inside her wards. Just as she was darting to the bedroom to grab her wand, there was a knock at her door.

She dove for her wand before spinning around, a white knuckle grip around it, leveling it at the door. She held her breath and waited, heart pounding in her throat, listening for any movement. She was considering where to disapparate to when the knock came again. Louder this time, more insistent. Eyes wide with fear, she unconsciously took a step back. Her fight or flight instinct had kicked in but her mind was racing so quickly she couldn't decide if she should stay to fight or hightail it out of there. An exasperated huff sounded from the other side of the door and Hermione cocked her head to the side in confusion. " 'ermione Granger, I know you are in zere. Enough of zis nonsense. Open ze door or I will do it myself."

Was that...Fleur Delacour?