Disclaimer: My name is not J.K Rowling and I do not own the rights to the characters from the original Harry Potter series…. Although if I did, I most likely wouldn't be so stressed about this months electric bill O.o The plot and wording of this fic are mine…Therefore it would be best if you didn't plagiarize my work… If you do, I suggest that you hide it and hide it well.
Author's note: I'm just going to let you know now that I plan on using many author's notes. Sorry if this bothers you, but I feel the need to be witty and sarcastic more often than not. Also, I don't have very much faith in the intelligence of the planet, so I feel I have to explain lots of things and draw pictures for some of the things I say (or write in this case). I will do my best to keep my notes short. Another thing that I will apologize for in advance is my overabundant use of…'s and probably most of the time they are uncalled for and might irritate you, but (for lack of better cheesy line) I feel the need … the need for speed.
-Sighs- and…. On with the show….

DISCLAIMER: WARNING! THIS STORY IS RATED MA FOR STRONG ADULT THEMES AND CONTENT. FROM HERE ON OUT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED… PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION AND ENJOYMENT…………………

My Beta is a fantastic lady by the name of Tonii

Some people use their divine love of literature and writing to turn it into a muse of sorts, as maybe a career for themselves. I merely use my passion in writing as an outlet and an escape for the world that we live in.

Since I was as young as my freshmen year in high school, I knew that writing was a creative outlet that I would and could use as a safe ground, a happy place for lack of better term….

…However…

I also have an uncanny ability to never follow through with ideas that I believe will bring me happiness…so as a chance for me to finish an idea and a dream that I have held onto for years I will, come hell or high water finish this fic.

I cannot do so with out such an amazing beta as Tonii, whom without, you wouldn't be able to make sense of the rants, tangents and scribbling that I fling onto paper.

Thank you Tonii, .net/u/1854106/ 3

Prologue to the disaster that shall now be known as Time to Shine

Hermione awoke to an annoying tapping noise outside. She stumbled out of bed and dragged herself to the window. The sun was barely peaking over the horizon, not yet ready to rise, much like Hermione who was struggling with the lock on her window. After a one sided struggle, she got it open and took the envelope from the owl, who wore an expression of annoyance. Hermione ripped the seal to the envelope and unfolded the parchment. She was still blinking the sleep out of her eyes as the dawns light danced its way through the window pane and onto the warm rug on the floor next to her bed.

Miss Hermione Granger,

The purpose of this letter is to enlighten you of our concern for your future. Here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry we would like to promote successful and meaningful futures for our students. Your outstanding success thus far at Hogwarts is just a minor clue as to what may happen in your future. With respect to this we are providing sessions this year with your head of house to help you decide what career you may want to pursue after Hogwarts. We hope you will attend as we feel this will benefit you.

We are well aware of the current situation regarding a certain dark wizard, but we still insist on Hogwarts being a safe environment for our students.
We are looking forward to your return in September,

-Professor M McGonagoll*

Hermione let out a small sigh of protest and tossed the parchment in the trash bin. She walked over to her window and stared out at the pink and orange sun creeping over the rooftops in the far distance. Birds were perched on the telephone wires and there were very few cars on the road at this early hour.

There was condensation gathering around the inside of her window, letting Hermione know that the weather was getting colder and that, summer was almost over. As soon as the school year began she would be sneaking off to join Ron and

Harry in their hunt for the tools to bring down Voldemort.
She would rather have left with them earlier but she wasn't planning on letting her parents know that she would not be returning to Hogwarts, for fear of their worries and protests. A twinge of regret ate away at her stomach as she considered the letter.

She had always planned to make a successful name for herself. She just never pictured things the way they were panning out. Instantly she was plagued by a feeling of guilt at the selfishness of her thoughts.

Harry Potter had been Hermione's best friend since that day in first year when they had faced the troll together.

Ron and Hermione had been through every obstacle that had faced Harry Potter and fought by his side every time without question. She surely wouldn't stop now, just because she had a selfish desire to complete school.

She was, however, very nervous that her participation in the war would compromise her ability to make a name for herself as anything other than Harry Potter's best friend after the worst fights had been fought. She sat on the edge of her cozy twin bed and gazed out the window and, soon, out of focus as well. Hermione didn't want to focus on anything for too long, because in her state she would probably feel worse then she already did.

"What time are you going to be back?" Mrs. Granger asked as she wiped up a dab of bronze toe nail polish that had trickled down her foot.

"I shouldn't be too late tonight, but I have to run to the library to research the properties of the Seytar root I was telling you about," Hermione said, stringing a pale olive coloured scarf around her neck. "God knows how long that could take. I spent three hours going through textbooks this morning and all I was able to find out was that it aids in the recovery of snapping turtles fallen ill with the flu," Hermione sighed and wore the best exasperated expression she could muster.

"Not exactly the thrilling information I was hoping to find…" Hermionie's words trailed off into nothing as she gathered up a faded suede satchel and a tumbler full of hot, sweetened tea.

"I won't stay up," Her mother nodded to Hermione as she walked out the door,

"Don't have too much fun with your nose in a book Hermione…"

"I can't help it you know," Hermione poked her head back into the doorway, "Harry needs my help…Duty calls and all that..." Hermione trailed off.

By now the sun's light had trickled away, and the sky was glistening in the rays of the full moon. Hermione locked the door behind her and walked down the cobblestone road. Her hand was in her pocket, instinctively grasping her wand. The chances of anything out of the ordinary happening in her muggle hometown were slim, but Hermione didn't want to take the risk of falling victim to a surprise attack.

The more she thought about how close she was to Harry, the more she thought that it was likely that a death eater could be hiding around any corner. With the times as they were, and the awareness of Voldemort's rise, Hermione was taking every precaution she felt necessary to avoid defeat. Her six years at Hogwarts had taught her, more than anything else, to always be on your feet and never be surprised.

The wind fluttering into her face was chilling her to the bone, even though she had bundled up heavily before leaving her parents' home.

The traffic in the streets had almost stopped and Hermione couldn't see any other proof of life as she walked down the quiet, empty street. It was hard to believe that there was such a violent war taking place when the world was so still and silent. People in this world always smiled and acknowledged other peoples existence. The wizarding world had become a place where your eyes were always fixed on the floor or in front of you. The friendliness had faded out as the war unraveled.

Hermione sighed inwardly as she turned a corner and walked into the shop next to the library. Hermione walked to the back of the store and picked up a copy of the daily post and a ripe red apple, but, on the way to the counter to pay for her items, she bumped into a man in the fruit aisle and dropped everything in her hands.

"I'm so sorry sir, I guess I should have been paying a little more attention." Hermione said quietly as she gathered up her things off the floor.

"Especially with the way our world is changing." Came the man's sharp reply, his words laced with an Eastern European accent.

Hermione's head jerked up and she stared at the man. He was slightly taller than Hermione, with a long raven ponytail. He was dressed in a crisp, navy suit and had an air of importance about him, as though used to being noticed. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows in question; her mouth was still slightly agape at his words.

The stranger chuckled wryly and turned on his heel before Hermione even had the chance to question his comment. Maybe, she thought, she had taken his words a bit too seriously. But it had almost seemed as though he was subtly hinting to his presence in the wizarding world. This might have not been such a big deal, but Hermiones' parents lived in a muggle town, far away from anything associated to the wizarding world.

Hermione shrugged as she gathered her now bruised apple, and paper. She was starting to let her fears and worries affect her, and was not prepared to let that become full-blown paranoia. She took a deep breath and walked to the counter with her head held high.

This day felt like most others at this time of year. The sun was just setting, its rays blanketing the horizon in a warm glowing light. The temperature would have been perfect if it hadn't been for the chilly breeze that was dancing in from the west. It was late in the summer but you could still smell the crisp scent of fresh cut grass. The birds had hushed their harmonious singing for the night, and the rush of cars on the street had slowed to a lull.

Tonight was the night that Hermione would be leaving the comfort of her mother's home and going to the Burrow for the last two weeks of summer.

Hermione just couldn't help but feel like something about it wasn't quite right.

. . .