Chapter 1: Adrift and at Peace.

Hermione Granger was a bookworm. She was a know-it-all, a Gryffindor, a muggle-born, and a very gifted witch. Yes, she was many things - some boring, some admirable - and most of them were common knowledge. But she was a number more things - fascinating, exciting, and tempting - which were unknown to virtually all.

At the end of her 6th year she returned briefly to her parent's home. Although she loved them dearly, they never seemed to have much time for her. Sure, they would take her on elaborate vacations to exotic locales, but they were so consumed in their own joys that she often felt like a third wheel. It was frustrating. However, now that she was much more grown-up she found she didn't have, nor need, much time for them. It was with this realization that she returned to their home and collected her belongings. The home was bereft of life, as her parents were again away on one of their little outings, and so she left them a letter on the refrigerator to explain her departure. The letter would most likely lay there collecting dust for quite some time until the pair saw fit to return. But she didn't care. She was an adult now, physically - thanks to her use of the Time-Turner in her 3rd year - and had been one in mind for quite a while. A last glance around her childhood domain, and she left to return to King's Cross Station.

She arrived in Hogsmeade much later that night and grabbed a handle of her overloaded trunk with one hand. Stepping out into the warm July night, she removed her cloak, flung it over her shoulder with her free hand, and made her way into the small wizarding town. With Voldemort having been defeated during their previous school year she had little to worry about. It was an exhilarating feeling to be able to walk down the streets at night and worry only of the perversions of mankind, rather than the psychotic, destructive ways of a maniacal moron.

She made her way to almost the end of the main street and turned towards the direction of Madam Puddifoot's. Beside the sickeningly sweet home of public displays of affection a new structure had been erected, which appeared as if a large wooden ship had sunk halfway into the ground at a 90-degree angle. Its name still eerily visible with the worn brand reading "Adrift and at Peace", it also displayed a sign, dangling from the helms wheel, upon which was scrolled "Parlor of Shadows". Hermione entered the haunting façade and was met with the comforting atmosphere of the tavern, the smell of musky wood reminding her of an old library and a certain potions master. A tall, lanky figure with dark circled eyes and wildly tangled black hair appeared at her side and swept her into a hug.

"Daimion!" she cried in excitement as she returned his embrace. When he let go of her, she smiled warmly at him.

"It's so good to see you again," he said, his smile huge.

"I missed you dearly," she said, and then gazed around.

"Check it out," he gestured toward the main room, and she stepped toward it, taking in every detail of her surroundings.

At the far end of the main room was a large stage that came out in the form of a rounded platform at the very center of the front. On the floor before that sat a vintage grand piano with many small, round tables and chairs surrounding it. Intimate booths lined the side walls, several more sets of tables and chairs were scattered around the room, and near the entrance was an open alcove housing the bar. Elegant, curving staircases on either side of the stage led to the floors above. Hermione's eyes sparkled as she took it all in and gazed back to her friend proudly. He smiled and gestured for her to come over to the bar.

"Was it a happy parting, or were they absent as usual?" Daimion asked as he he went behind the bar to grab two butterbeers.

"It was the latter, as always." Not wanting to talk more of her recent past, she changed the subject. "Excited for the grand opening?" He chuckled.

"Nervous, but excited," he said. "What about you?" Hermione exhaled.

"The same," she replied, her smile shaky.

"You'll be amazing," he said, uncorking a bottle and handing it to her. She took it gratefully. "Cheers!" They clinked their bottles and each took a swig. "I can't believe it's all coming together. It's about damn time, y'know?"

"No kidding, Dimmie – I remember when you first dreamed this place up," Hermione reminisced. "I wish you would have come to Hogwarts with me. Oh! I can't wait to introduce you to all of my friends!"

"Well," he started slowly as his smile partially drooped. "That will, obviously, have to wait. I mean, we don't want to blow your cover just yet, right?"

Her face fell a little as well. "Oh. Yeah, I guess I sort of forgot about that."

"Ah, no worries, Min; there'll be a time for that." Hermione nodded and sighed, sipping her drink. "Wait till you meet everyone!" When she quirked her eyebrow at him, he laughed. "The staff, I mean. They're quite the bunch!"

"Knowing you, I don't doubt that," she giggled. "I'm assuming your penchant for giving everyone a nickname has extended to them, as well?" Daimion laughed.

"You know it," he winked. "Speaking of which," he said, as the door opened.

Two women walked in, chattering excitedly, and carrying bags. Daimion walked out from behind the bar.

"Oi, girls; there's someone I'd like you to meet," he said. The two girls immediately peered around him at Hermione, and she blushed. "This is Min."

"We've heard so much about you," the two girls said in unison, as they practically bounced over to make their introductions.

"I'm Doreen, or Dead, as Daimion prefers," said the first girl, with a bright smile. She was tall, with snow white skin and black hair that fell in impossibly large rings, her curves exaggerated by a tightly laced corset. Hermione thought she looked like a doll. "I'm in charge of the bar."

"And I'm Bomb," said the other girl. She was slightly shorter than Dead, with big, fiery red hair, and fiercely freckled skin. Her severely arched eyebrows were at odds with her large grin. "I'm the hostess and head waitress."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," Hermione smiled.

"I was just about to take Min up - show here the rest of the place, and let her get settled in," Daimion said.

"Go on, you're going to love it, Min!" Bomb swooned.

"We're going to work on getting this stuff put away," Dead said, setting down a few bags on the bar. "We're up late, always, so feel free to come on down if you're up late!"

"Thank you," Hermioen beamed, finishing her drink. She turned to Daimion. "Shall we?"

"Indeed. It's room 14 on the 3rd floor," he said, then reached in his pocket and handed her a key. "Your trunk will be in your room." He gestured toward one of the staircases. "After you, my dear."