Hey everyone!

I didn't realize how much I wanted an a/b/o Harry/Hermione fic until someone mentioned in on the Harmony & Co. Facebook group.
I know a few people (myself included) have decided to take it on.

I've taken kind of a different path for mine, and I really hope you enjoy it!

This work is my 2018 NaNoWriMo project, and as such should be done by the end of November!

(I know, I don't NEED anymore WIP's but, I digress.)

I will post chapters as I finish writing them, but no more than once a day.
I promise I haven't abandoned my other work! Please be patient with my ragged self!

Hermione Granger knew she was an intelligent girl. She'd been the top student in her year since she was in primary school, and even as a muggleborn who knew nothing of magic before coming to Hogwarts, she was the top student in the magical school, as well. She'd spent hours in the library every day for the past three weeks trying to figure out just exactly what was wrong with her, and she'd hit brick wall after brick wall, with vague references to a bizarre wizarding hierarchy, and encouraged medi-wizardry diagnostic spells to confirm status.

Hermione well knew her status in this world, thank you very much. She'd known since her first year when some seventh year Slytherin had sneered in her direction and mumbled about the dirty creatures being allowed to attend Hogwarts. Back then, she'd been confused about what he'd meant, but over the years she'd come to nearly loathe being called a mudblood, though now that the war was over, she'd heard it very rarely.

She wasn't about to wander into the hospital wing and try to explain to Madam Pomfrey that she was uncontrollably warm, to the point of meandering the castle in just her jeans and a tank top, despite the crisp winter air. How could she describe the feeling of wanting to search out some powerful partner to ravish her? The ridiculous amount of wetness her body was creating between her legs? No. This situation was much too embarrassing to go to Pomfrey about.

So she'd taken refuge in the library, digging through piles of books and scrolls and research and only finding the most basic of information. The other students steered clear of her, for the most part, as she'd begun mumbling to herself and banging her forehead on the table repeatedly in frustration.

It was like this, surrounded by massive stacks of paper, head resting on the table, that Harry found her.

"Hermione," he whispered, reaching out and shaking her shoulder to wake his sleeping friend.

She raised her head quickly, a look of desperation on her face as she took in the presence of her best friend standing next to her.

She sent him a small smile. "I wasn't sleeping. Just..." she trailed off, looking at the mess she'd created. "I can't find what I'm looking for."

He grabbed a few books from the table. "Let's put these away. You can try again tomorrow," he told her, "Dinner is in twenty minutes and you haven't been there for days, so you're going tonight."

"No, Harry," she moaned dejectedly. "I can't! I have to find this. I can't waste time."

Harry set the books back down, crossing his arms against his chest. He looked at her with a smirk. "Hermione. You said if I can back for eighth year with you, we'd spend time just being in school, learning and having fun without the threat of imminent death breathing down our necks. We don't have an classwork since the holiday is starting next week. So this," he gestured to the stacks, "can all wait."

Hermione knew it could wait until tomorrow. He was right. She'd barely spent any time with him in the last few weeks, and he wouldn't have even bothered coming back for their eighth year if it wasn't for her encouragement. He'd planned to just step into the Auror Corps and be done with it, but only Hermione rationalized with him in a way no one else even bothered to try. She was the only person who really understood that he didn't want to fight bad guys or evil or police the world.

So he'd come back to Hogwarts, much to the dismay of Ronald Weasley, who'd gone fame hungry after the final battle and was out spreading stories of his great heroics to any reporter, witch, or wizard who'd give him the time of day. Ginny hadn't come back for her seventh year, she was married to Seamus Finnegan during the summer when it'd come to light that she was pregnant.

Harry had been devastated, for a while, because he thought that Ginny had been at Hogwarts waiting for his return so they could be together, but instead, she'd been with Seamus, and if the rumors were true, many others, in his absence. He'd gotten over it fairly quickly though when he realized they'd never have been right together anyway. He wanted a quiet life and she wanted fame and (his) fortune.

So, he'd followed the one person who'd been true to him for seven years running, and came back to school. He hadn't been sure, at first, what he wanted to do, now that he didn't want to be an Auror, but he'd developed a passion for teaching. Hermione had recommended it to him, naturally, reminding him of the times he'd taught the D.A. during fifth and sixth years.

He'd scoffed at the idea. He never thought he'd been good at it, even then, it was just something that had to be done, but over the course of the year, many of the younger students, and several of his fellow eighth years, had approached him for help with the Patronus charm, and when each one of them were successful, it only cemented the decision in his mind.

He'd spoken with McGonagall and she'd been quick to offer him a teaching apprenticeship, to begin after his graduation and NEWTS. Neville Longbottom had accepted one as well, and they'd spend two years working with the current Hogwarts staff before they'd take on positions of their own.

Neville would be taking over for Pomona Sprout as the Herbology teacher. He'd even volunteered to lead Hufflepuff House in the interim, if necessary, being that the hat had nearly put him there during his sorting. Harry would be taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. He'd be Head of Gryffindor House.

But right now, he wasn't thinking about his apprenticeship, or anything else, except the woman sitting frazzled before him, describing all the reasons she couldn't possibly leave the library yet.

"Hermione!" He exclaimed, his voice stern, almost angry. He was aggravated at the little witch. He missed her, and she was working herself to the bone, as usual.

He didn't expect it to work, but she snapped her mouth closed instantly and was looking at him with an odd expression in her eyes.

"Let's put these books away, go to the Great Hall for supper, and then we can go walk to Hogsmeade after. You don't need to be in here tonight," he told her, voice still firm.

Curiously, she nodded her head and started gathering up the books to return them to the shelves.

What the hell? Harry thought. She'd never given up a fight about leaving the library that easily. Something was up with her, something big by the looks of the stacks of books she'd gone through just today. He didn't have the slightest idea what it was, but he was determined to find out.