CHAPTER ONE

Summary: This wasn't the life she'd expected to have after the War; tracking fugitive Death Eaters hell-bent on revenge, avoiding her fame and running from an overbearing ex-boyfriend and his mother, insistent that they marry. But when Hermione temporarily settles on a quiet patch of territory in the States and meets a handsome young man, her life changes for the better as he gives her a new outlook on life and a new love. The kind of love she had craved and that she needed. Rated for language, violence and sexual content.

Disclaimer: I do not own canon events and characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and Stepenie Myers. I am not making a profit from writing and posting this fanfic. As for the descriptions of appearances for the Twilight characters, all my research is based on the books and not the movies. I have also changed Seth's age by a year, instead of him being fifteen, he's now sixteen, just to make the age gap smaller.

I am aware that American schools tend to end earlier for the summer, than British schools do, and so in order to get the timeline right for the story, I had to change a few things, and the pack will still be attending school for a short while, until I state otherwise.

Also, I do respond to reviews and I do answer questions but when I reach the editing stage I tend to remove my responses and ANs as to not potentially give any spoilers to new viewers. I promise I'm not ignorant.

This fic does have Ron/ Molly Weasley bashing, and Cullen bashing! (Mostly Edward and Bella).

Page count: 7

Tuesday 23rd May 2006

Hermione lay sprawled on her bed in the bedroom of the magical tent she had purchased. She stared up at the bland ceiling with tears silently falling down her face. She felt anger, despair, betrayal. The reason for those feelings?

Ronald Billius Weasley.

The war had been over for thirteen months and in that time, the Wizarding World had slowly been rebuilt and its people mourned their losses and began to move on. Businesses now thrived, Hogwarts was once again shaping the next generation of witches and wizards, marriages and pregnancies flourished, Death Eaters were captured and crime was on the down thanks to the remarkable work of the Law Enforcement Department. The Ministry was no longer corrupt, every employee had undergone a thorough background check and if anyone was found to have been a Voldemort sympathizer, they either lost their job or they were demoted and observed closely until they'd proven themselves worthy of the position they'd once held. And all that wouldn't have been possible without the dedication and hard work of Kingsley Shacklebolt, the newly and officially voted Minister of Magic.

Whilst Harry and Ron had opted to start Auror training and helping to track and capture the fugitive Death Eaters that had escaped after the Final Battle, Hermione had chosen to return to Hogwarts to complete her education. It hadn't been what she was expecting, if she were honest, as she hadn't returned as a seventh year but an eighth year. Due to that fact, Hermione and her fellow eighth years didn't have the same restrictions as the rest of the school; they were allowed to apparate, floo or port-key home on the weekends and they were allowed to visit Hogsmeade whenever they wished as long as they didn't do so during class times or misrepresent the school with their behaviour. The eighth years were also allowed the privilege of being without the restriction of a curfew and they'd all been given access to the restricted section in the library, something Hermione had taken advantage of as much as possible.

With only a total of twelve eighth years returning to Hogwarts, McGonagall had understood that they were no longer students but soldiers and survivors of war. They'd seen and experienced more than most being on the front lines and for that reason, they'd been given a shared common room and their own dorms far away from the remaining school populace, something Hermione had appreciated.

Every student with the exception of the new first years had to not only repeat the material from the year before due to the poor education they'd gotten during Voldemort's control, but they also had to learn the material for their expected year. That was where Hermione and other eighth years had gotten lucky; they'd had to repeat their seventh year, and so whilst most of the school was in classes, she only had to attend lectures for seventh years and the rest of the time she'd had independent study. When the school year came to end and she graduated, she left with twelve NEWTs at O level under her belt, something she'd worked incredibly hard for and she was proud of.

Before Hermione returned to Hogwarts, she and Ron had started dating. They would write to each other during the week (though her more than him, as expected) and she would visit him every weekend at the Burrow with as he lived there along with his parents, Harry and Ginny. She'd believed their relationship to be going well and it was three months into their relationship when she'd decided to lose her virginity to Ron, and three weeks later, news about their relationship and sexual exploits were splashed across the Daily Prophet.

Things had only gotten worse from there; when she returned home for weekends, Ron would always insist they go out for dinner, or for a drink, or to a club and Hermione had quickly understood that Ron had developed a taste for fame. Where she much preferred to avoid the press, Ron sought them out, posing enthusiastically and giving autographs and interviews without a second thought. He loved the limelight and Hermione hated it and it had marked the start of their relationship going south and been the start of countless arguments.

Ron had yelled at her, saying that she wasn't the same Hermione, that she was duller, sadder and that she needed to learn to have fun. They'd been through a war, her parents had been murdered, she'd been tortured, she'd killed people! Of course, she wasn't the same Hermione! No one was the same after what they'd face. She knew the horrors of the world, she knew monsters existed. She was no longer naive and ignorant. She wasn't a child anymore.

After that, things had started going downhill really fast.

Two months later, photographs of Ron dancing and drinking with scantily dressed women started cropping up in the Daily Prophet. She had, of course, confronted him and he'd downplayed the situation, saying that nothing happened. Hermione had taken him at his word as the photographs only speculated what was happening, they didn't show the whole story.

Due to the build-up of students, the eighth years took their NEWTs in March whilst the seventh years took them in June as normal, and with that, Hermione had officially graduated 31st March.

Flashback...

Ronald had failed to show for her graduation ceremony but Harry had been present as had Arthur Weasley. Once the ceremony had been over, she'd retrieved her trunk and left Hogwarts for the final time, using the pre-arranged port-key to travel to the Burrow. The unusual home had been bustling with activity, everyone being present to celebrate Hermione's graduation, but she hadn't seen Ron on her arrival. After greeting the others, she'd noticed Ron's hand on the clock pointing to 'home' and she'd gone in search of him.

After checking all of his usual hiding spots in the Burrow, she'd headed onto the grounds, checking the shed and seeing his broom not being missing, searching the fields and not seeing him hiding amongst the tall grass and walking by the lake, not seeing him lounging by the water. She was planning to head back to the Burrow when she thought of one final place to check, the treehouse. It was older than the Burrow itself, it having been built by the previous owners of the land before it had been gifted Molly as a wedding gift. The treehouse was a place of the Weasley children had frequented when growing up, spending most of their summer days by the lake, in the treehouse and playing Quidditch, including herself and Harry.

Arriving at her destination, she carefully climbed the ladder, halting to a stop when she reached mid-way, freezing when she heard a noise; a grunt that was followed by an overly dramatic moan.

Hermione felt her body shaking as she heard a distinct slapping sound that was followed by more moans and without a second thought, she steeled herself and continued up the ladder, climbing up onto the platform and pushing the door open.

She felt bile rising in her throat, her stomach churned and her breathing stopped.

Ron stood with his t-shirt creased, his jeans and boxers down his ankles and he grunted as he shagged the witch with her skirt up by her hips and her legs wrapped around his waist. Her top was missing, leaving her bra-clad and her hands gripped Ron's shoulders, her nails painted a too-bright pink as they dug into his skin. Hermione's eyes travelled upwards to see blonde hair and brown eyes. Lavender Brown.

She stumbled back, the railing catching her fall before she plummeted to the ground and a sickening gasp fell from her lips.

Ron's head snapped to glance behind him, his eyes widening in horror.

"Hermione!" He cried, removing Lavender's legs from around his waist before stepping back, ungracefully and none too gently dropping the witch to the ground before he pulled his jeans and boxers up, making his way towards her.

"No, stop!" Hermione ordered coolly, her eyes devoid of any emotion, her features set hard and a sneer on her face.

Ron halted in surprise, his face paling.

"How long? How long have you been fucking her?"

"I..."

"How long, Ronald?" She snarled.

"Seven months," Lavender answered, a cruel smirk marring her features as she pulled herself to her feet, shifted her skirt down legs and pushed her hair over her shoulder smugly.

Hermione's eyes snapped to her, narrowing hatefully.

"I see. Well, then, you can have my sloppy seconds. He wasn't that good in bed anyway," she said meanly, turning her back to them and heading for the ladder.

"No, Hermione, I love you! Me and Lavender are nothing, she means nothing to me. It's you I love. It's always been you! I'm sorry, I won't see her again, I promise! In fact, I have this for you."

He hastily fished his hand in his jean pocket and pulled out a black velvet ring box, opening it to reveal a simple silver band with a solitaire diamond sat in the centre. She stared at him coldly.

"Marry me?" He pleaded.

"You can't marry her, I'm pregnant!" Lavender shrieked. Ron twisted to look over his shoulder, his already pale colouring taking a sickly hue as he dropped the ring box to the ground in surprise. "Almost three months."

A dark, mirthless laugh left Hermione.

"No, go and fuck yourself, better yet, there's the mother of your future child over there, go fuck her instead."

Hermione turned and she couldn't get away from him fast enough, and rather than climbing down the ladder, she jumped over the wooden railing of the platform, falling ten feet before hitting the ground. When she landed, she hurt her ankle but paid it no mind as she made her way to the Burrow as fast as she could, ignoring Ron's shouts of her name and Lavender's screeches.

She pushed the door open and stormed into the living room, seeing it bustling with every Weasley present bar Ginny, all of them waiting for the celebratory dinner to be served in Hermione's honour. When they noticed her arrival, all talk and laughter halted to sudden silence at the sight of her flushed skin, tears falling down her cheeks, her wand gripped in her hand but most alarmingly, the little golden sparks crackling around her wilder than usual hair.

"Mia, what's happened?" Fred's brow furrowed in concern, sharing a glance with his twin brother.

During the Final Battle, Hermione had saved Fred's life when she'd discovered his weak pulse, alerting her to the fact he was still alive. He'd been presumed dead due to his crush injuries from the wall, no one having expected him to survive such an incident and with his lack of movement and response, his vital signs hadn't been checked. Hermione understood why given the death total and the high volume of injured, and whilst she'd been horrified that his condition had been overlooked, she knew there wasn't anything she could do other than alert the medi-witches. He'd been rushed to St. Mungo's and she'd visited him in the hospital every day, allowing a distraught George the chance to take a trip home, shower and dress and get a few hours sleep.

She and the twins had never been as close as she and Ginny were, or even Harry and Ron, but she knew they'd always considered her a sibling with her constant presence in the lives and in their home. They'd grown up together no matter the two year age gap. Whilst Fred had been in the hospital, she and George had gotten to know one another a little better and a bond slowly formed, that bond carrying over to Fred once he woke from his coma two weeks later and was released from St. Mungo's two weeks after that.

Hermione's mother hen tendencies made an appearance, coddling the older wizard until she annoyed so much, he blocked her access to WWW, something George had found great amusement in, undoing his brother's restrictions just to watch Hermione scold him for hours on end. Fred had never been more relieved when she finally returned to Hogwarts but George often wrote to her, admitting his brother missed her annoyingly endearing behaviour.

Hermione knew that if there was ever a problem she couldn't discuss with Harry, Fred and George would be her next option.

"Ask him," she snarled and she whipped around, her wand pointing in Ron's direction as he entered the house with Lavender trailing behind him.

"Hermione, please," Ron begged, looking very pale at the looks he was receiving, especially since Lavender was behind him and still without a top, not bothering to cover herself up, much to Hermione's disgust. The witch had no shame.

"Tell them, Ronald. Tell them how you've been cheating on me for seven months. Tell them how you've been fucking the Gryffindor Queen of Sluts behind my back. Tell them how you've slept with all those women you were photographed with by the Daily Prophet. Tell them how when I caught you shagging Lavender, you proposed to me. Tell them how she's nearly THREE FUCKING MONTHS PREGNANT!" She snapped, her wand arm visibly shaking in her fury.

She heard gasps and exclamations of surprise from behind her.

"Is this true?" Harry questioned, his tone cold and his green eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

"No, of course, it isn't, Harry," Ron denied, "We're mates, you know I'd never do that to 'Mione."

"You fucking liar, I caught you with your pants down your ankles and her thighs wrapped around you whilst you fucked her into the wall of the treehouse," she snarled, dropping her wand in favour of lunging for him.

George quickly intervened, catching her mid-jump and trapping her in-between him and Fred as they both folded their arms around her and quietly shushed her as she let out cries of betrayal, anger and despair that were muffled by their robes.

Harry drew his wand but was quickly restrained by Bill and Charlie, his arms pinned behind his back as he struggled to break free, the Curse Breaker and the Dragon Tamer trying to restrain him without hurting him but he was putting up a fight.

"I'm going to kill you!" Harry warned darkly. "When they let me go, I'm going to fucking kill you!"

Ron paled further and took a step backwards.

"'Mione, we're still getting married, we talked about it, remember?"

She drew back from Fred and George, the twins being reluctant to release her lest she attempts to throw herself at Ron beat him with her tiny fists, fists they knew she knew how to use. Her punching Draco Malfoy in the face had been the talk of Gryffindor Tower for weeks and she'd become a legend in their eyes.

"Fuck off, Ronald! You're dead to me and now I have to go to St. Mungo's and get myself checked over. Who knows what I've caught from you?" She spoke coldly, reaching up to wipe the tears from her cheeks before she turned her back to them and headed for the fireplace, grabbing a handful of floo powder and stepping inside.

Fred and George had both threatened vengeance on Ron before following her to the hospital. She'd cried on them as she waited to be seen to by a Healer, later getting a clean bill of health. When they headed to the nearest floo network, she'd realised she'd had nowhere to go, having previously been staying at the Burrow, but the twins had to her aid, demanding she stay with them.

She'd spent days crying into her pillow or one of the twins' chest, both having taken it in turns to be on 'Hermione Watch' as the other tended to WWW. When she'd no longer had any tears left to cry, she'd come to the decision that she needed to leave, she needed some time away for herself and she'd offered her services to Kingsley.

After completing a crash course in Auror training, personally taught by Harry and Kingsley, Hermione's plan was to help with the tracking and capturing of fugitive Death Eaters, something required focus, time, effort and travelling. It was exactly what she needed. After both her efforts in the war and her training, her reflexes were faster, her instincts were honed, her ability to cloak herself was up there with the best of them (it being her speciality) and her battle and her duelling skills were better than most, especially for someone of her age.

Three weeks after her graduation, she left England and headed for America.

Her plan was different to the current MLE strategies. Whilst they were tracking the fugitive Death Eaters through sightings, known associates, purchases and known behaviour and such, Hermione's plan was to do the opposite. She was going to bring them to her, especially when they'd all fled England, slowly making their way through Europe and towards the other continents. She knew they wouldn't miss the opportunity to kill Undesirable Number Two and War Heroine, Hermione Granger.

She deliberately used traceable magical transportation, she deliberately left trails that led to her, she never disguised herself or her appearance, she signed autographs and took photos with those that recognised her and she used her real name, making no attempt to hide it. And it had all worked.

During her journey to America, she'd already caught captured three Death Eaters, sending word to Harry and Kingsley, who sent a team of Aurors to retrieve them. She wasn't technically an Auror; she was treated more as a free-lance worker but with her being the recipient of an Order of Merlin: First Class, it gave her a lot of leeway, and now, there were fewer than fifteen fugitive Death Eaters to be caught.

Present time...

That was how she found herself in La Push, Washington, crying on her bed. She hadn't been there long, three days at most. She'd pitched her tent in the woods of La Push and it was simple but much nicer than the tent they'd used when they'd been hunting for Voldemort's Horcruxes.

Her current tent had a total of six rooms, almost double the size of the previous one. It held two bedrooms, the master bedroom was found at the very back of the tent, holding a queen-sized bed, a bedside table, a wardrobe and a chest of drawers all in cream. She hadn't bothered to decorate, leaving the room beige and cream with dark flooring. To the left of her bedroom was the bathroom, it housing a sink, shower and toilet, the colour scheme being the same cream and beige as her bedroom. To the right of the bathroom was the second bedroom, slightly smaller than hers and also not decorated.

In the corridor leading to her bedroom, she had her makeshift potions lab with orange-red walls, two workbenches sitting two cauldron's each, two cabinets on the wall, one filled with potion ingredients, the other filled with completed potions, potions that she would likely need – healing potions and salves, Polyjuice, things of that sort. She'd erected a series of wards to prevent the potion fumes from seeping into the rest of the tents, as well as to ensure the correct brewing environment with Ventilation Charms and Temperature Management Charms.

The open planned living room and kitchen were positioned at the front of the tent, the living room consisting of one black couch and the matching armchair with a dark wood coffee table and two matching bookcases positioned on the wall with all the appropriate Enlargement Charms to fit her growing collection of books. The kitchen was simple with an oven, cupboards above and below the dark wooden countertop and a sink, the walls being a calming shade of blue.

There was a reason she had chosen La Push and Forks. Aside from the reason that it was a small town and somewhere Ron would never find her or think to search, she'd read a file at the Ministry that stated there was a coven of vampires in Forks and a pack of shape-shifting wolves in La Push. She'd read the entire file front to back several times, absorbing all the information she could and admittedly, it wasn't much. She knew the pack of wolves protected their land and they never harmed humans, only vampires that came onto their territory. She disliked vampires and had since the Final Battle but it couldn't be helped; she believed that as long as she avoided them, she'd be fine.

There was something inside her of her that had drawn her there. Something deep down, something in her very magic and she hadn't been able to explain, the only logical explanation being that it was a psychological reaction. By having those magical beings nearby, she believed she would feel less isolated whether they knew about her or not. She hadn't yet seen any wolves but she also had the suspicion that it would soon change. She didn't know how long a duration she'd stay in La Push, but she would catch as many Death Eaters as possible whilst she was working on her anger.

Having Death Eaters chasing her helped her with that, her anger, she had an outlet and she knew they wouldn't hold back and so she didn't either. She'd come to realise that she hadn't loved Ron, not like how she should've done. She loved him like a friend and had for a while, it was likely why they always argued, why they didn't fit as a couple. They couldn't be more opposite. What made her angry was the fact that he'd cheated on her for seven months of their relationship, no matter how shitty a relationship it was. He'd cheated on her. He'd betrayed her. He'd lied to her. He'd treated her made a fool of her. He'd made her feel self-conscious about her body due to the remarks he'd make. He wasn't good for her, not as a boyfriend and not as a friend.

Sighing and sniffling, Hermione lobbed a pillow across the room before wiping her tears from her face with the backs of her hands, suddenly startling when she felt an alarm being triggered. It was set against Death Eaters and another had found her.

Fantastic, she thought.

A scary smile pulled at her mouth before she sat up and pulled on her white converse to go along with her blue skinny jeans and her white woollen jumper. She stood and crossed to the mirror, scrutinising her appearance. Her usually soft and kind features were set hard, determination and focused. Her ivory complexion held a few scars from over the years, most on her torso and left arm, but she had a few on her back, one on her neck and another on her left temple, too, the latter being visible whilst the others were hidden by her clothing.

She pulled her hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of her face and she drew her wand, taking a breath before she left the tent, apparating a mile away from it and knowing they would pick up her trail. And they did.

She hadn't been expecting two Death Eaters to be facing her, though they looked unkempt, their hair messy, dirt on their faces and black robes and they were missing their masks. Hermione recognised them both. Lowel and Perce, two low-level Death Eaters but they'd caused a lot of damage during the battle.

"Mudblood!" Lowel spat.

She smirked, a coldness to her eyes that would rival the Dark Lord himself.

"Death Eaters," she tipped her head slightly.

She was outnumbered, she knew it and they knew it and then the battle started. They didn't hesitate to use dark magic where she stuck to grey, questionable magic. Whilst not as damaging as their own spell casting, hers packed one hell of a punch, not only due to the force she was placing behind her spell work but because Hermione was channelling her bottled up anger from the last eight years and putting it to use.

They had several cuts on their faces and bruises forming on their bodies. Hermione was faring better; despite being outnumbered, she was more battle experienced and smaller, she had power and agility on her side. She had a few tears in her jumper, scrapes on her hands and cuts on her arms.

She turned on the spot and ran through the woods, coming out onto the beach which she'd explored the night before. It was an open space, meaning they had more room to move and less of a chance of being hit or of her being backed into a corner.

Her feet hit the sand hard as she ran as fast as she could, wanting to put as much distance between them as possible, ducking curses and throwing her own spell work over her shoulder in return, smiling when she heard one of them hiss in pain.

But she didn't notice the crowd of people on the beach before it was too late.