A/N I would like to thank my awesome beta Severus' Malfoy Maiden. This story is for Shannon (my American Mum), Jess and my Twin Ash, thanks girls for all your support and help. Please Review, it makes me write faster.

'Dreams'
'Thoughts/inner monolog'

Disclaimer I do not own the Harry Potter world (only in my dreams) it belongs to the magnificent JK; I only own this plot and the computer on which it is written. I'm just borrowing it and I don't make any money from writing this.

Chapter One: The Move

Taking one last look around the small flat, Hermione shrunk down her baggage and placed them in a bag. With a sigh, she opened the door and stepped out for the last time, locking it. Spinning on the top step, she Disapparated with a pop.

Hermione steadied herself and looked around the Burrow. She smiled to herself upon walking into the kitchen. It was filled with chatter and laughter and redheads. Hermione was immediately dragged into a group hug by her 'family'. She tried to will away the tears that were trying to spill from her eyes.

The atmosphere of the small kitchen was rather tense, both Molly and Ginny looked like they were on the verge of breaking down. Brunch was a rather large affair; all the Weasleys had turned up to wish Hermione farewell. George and Fred had their heads bent together and were talking in hurried whispers; the excitement was radiating off of them. Smiling, Hermione knew that they were planning something, she just didn't know what. Turning her attention to Ginny; the pretty redhead tried to convince her to come back more than twice a week, to see her.

Fred and George grabbed Hermione's hands and dragged her out into the yard to reveal their surprise. Looking up into the sky, they had produced a send-off message to me out of fireworks. Hugging them both, she turned around led them back inside, thanking them profusely.

After an emotional afternoon, Hermione left the Burrow by international Portkey. She closed her eyes the moment she felt the tugging from just behind her stomach. The feeling of nausea didn't stop when she finally arrived at her destination. She had to keep her eyes closed while she leaned against the nearest wall trying to recover from the length of the travel and the darkness of the night. Opening her eyes, she looked around and took in her surroundings. A little redbrick one-story old colonial style cottage beckoned to her from the top of the hill. She quickly walked up the path that was set between lovely manicured lawns and massive gum trees, to the cottage. Reaching out to ring the doorbell, she paused. The door was pulled open, and the man standing in the entry was wearing the biggest smile on his face since finding out that Hermione, his daughter, was a witch. Giving him a big hug, she nuzzled his chest as he bent down to kiss the top of my head. "Missed you, kiddo. I'm glad you decided to move in with us. Thank you."

Looking up, she replied, "I missed you too, dad. I'm glad I came."

Chuckling, he led her into the house, which was designed in a mix of Victorian and modern.

"Rachel, we have a guest," Matthew called out. Hearing a small squeal in the kitchen, Rachel Granger ran around the corner and hugged her daughter. "Oh, sweetheart, I've missed you so much!"

"Mum, I've missed you too, but I can't breathe," Hermione managed to say through the bone-crushing hug.

"Oh, of course, sweetie," Rachel replied while looking slightly embarrassed.

"It's okay, mum. Do you mind if I go and drop my bags off in my room?"

"It's the third door on the right, remember?"

"Yes, I do. Thank you, mum. I'll be back." Hermione walked down the hall and opened the door to her room. Her parents had done so much to it since she had last visited.

She unpacked and placed her clothes neatly in the dresser drawers then moved on to hanging items in her closet, which she had to magically enlarge to fit everything.

She heard her mother call from downstairs. Sighing contentedly at her handy work, she closed the closet doors and made her way to the kitchen.

Thinking back on those words her father and mother had told her when she let them know that she wanted to move in with them, she felt a blush rise slightly to her cheeks, knowing that she had gone a little overboard with her space.

Back in her room, she looked from the beautifully decorations, to the extremely large walk-in-robe and bathroom that could easily fit 20 people in it, with room to still move to her very private library that was hidden behind a portrait of the Velma Vannott, a. k. a., the 'Lady of the Night', who was the first woman in power in the Wizarding world.

When she had finished cleaning up and everything was in its place, she heard her mother calling her that dinner was ready.

They ate in relative silence. After helping do the dishes, Hermione excused herself and made her way to her room. She collapsed on the bed and quickly cast a silencing spell, so that the ever present nightmares wouldn't wake her parents. Climbing under the covers, as she couldn't be bothered changing, she fell into a peaceful slumber as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She roamed the empty halls, looking for company. Company would ease the heaviness she felt in the pit of her stomach. Quickening her pace, she could hear the footprints of someone approaching behind her. Fear knotted in her stomach and she began to run, frantically looking for an exit. The footsteps were getting closer and the panic was increasing. She choked on a sob as she reached another dead end. The sound of high pitched laughter terrified her. She needed to move. Thinking quickly, she raced towards the sound and took the first exit. Thankfully, the path led to a door. She reached out and turned the handle…

A scream passed her lips and she felt the cold sweat over her body. Climbing out of the bed, she stripped off her clothes and turned on the tap in the shower. She let the hot water wash away the terrible images from her head. Closing her eyes against the warmth, the images she'd been trying to keep at bay spilled back. A picture of Bellatrix standing over her, cackling while she gleefully tortured the Muggle-born witch danced in her mind. Hermione remembered silently pleading to Malfoy with her eyes. She watched Harry being carried out from the forest by Hagrid. She saw her family and the Weasley's all dead.

Sinking into the floor, she let the water fall and watched as it mixed with her tears.

When the water began to lose its heat, she reluctantly got out and wrapped a fluffy white towel around her body, dried her hair with her wand, and walked over to the mirror to stare at her reflection.

Hermione mentally scolded herself. 'Stop being silly, Hermione. Get a grip. Bellatrix is dead, and Voldemort is dead. Your family and friends are safe. Nothing is going to hurt them.'

Sighing, she walked out of the loo and into her walk-in closet. She was looking for something to wear, realizing she wouldn't be getting back to sleep. She walked over to the fireplace and the portrait of Velma Vannott. "Unspoken words," she whispered, watching the portrait swing open and reveal her private library. She selected her favourite book – a Muggle author. Holding the tatted copy of 'Interview with a Vampire', she walked back out of the room and opened the French doors to sit on the sun lounge. The moonlight that bathed the small courtyard allowed her enough to read by.

Breathing deeply, she smelled the lavender and the daisies that her parents had planted. The trickling of the water from the pond calmed her nerves.

Hermione closed the hard-backed book with a soft tuft of noise and laid back to watch the colours of the sky change from a dark blue-black to light grey and blue then to mix with the oranges, reds and pinks from the sun. The sun was slowly rising up after them. Hermione thought it was a beautiful sight to see. Getting up, she removed the silencing spell and returned the worn book. Hearing her father come back in from outside, Hermione decided to get up and make breakfast.