Tears fell from her eyes, as she left the note on the kitchen counter. It had been long coming, and the end had been inevitable. The sunlight pouring in from the small window over the sink made the diamonds in her engagement ring glitter as she left it under the note. Ron would be broken hearted, but he would get over it, she just couldn't handle it anymore – being Ronald's prized fiancée, listening to his mother drone on and on about her need for grandchildren and listening to Ginny constantly babble about wedding plans. It was too much pressure; it drove her and Ron apart. If this was what it was going to be like even after they were married, she was glad she was getting out now. Harry wasn't going to be pleased, but it had been years since she had cared what he thought. He was happy and she was not, he would understand eventually. Taking one last look around her cottage kitchen, she apparated.

The leaky cauldron was just how she remembered it, simple wooden furnishings and furniture. Tom, the innkeeper, waddled over to her with his toothless smile, "Do you need a room Ms. Granger?" he asked, oblivious to hear tear stained cheeks, looking at her packed bags which fell next to her feet. Hermione sniffled and let Tom bring her bags up to the dusk soaked room, she dragged her feet up the stairs sulking as Tom left her by herself. She lay on the bed and stared up at the ceiling wondering if she had made the right decision. Hermione thought about going back long and hard, she could make it back easily before Ron came home, but she knew she would regret it even more than she had if she left him. He would come after her, she had to get out, until he cooled off, but where would she go? Hermione sat up and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She had grown into her body over the years following their final tango with the dark lord. She was not unattractive but Ronald had made her feel beautiful, he appreciated her in a different way, made her feel special.

They had been together since Fleur and Bill's wedding, but had several falling outs before they were official when the war had finished. Ron was different from how they had grown up; he was more affectionate and loving, different from the Ron that she had known growing up. She loved him, but things changed. Hermione needed space, Ronald would understand, then again, he had always been quite stubborn all through their teenage years.

Hermione pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Things had changed; she needed to find where she was going. Ronald had proposed right out of Hogwarts, she was only twenty-one, for Merlin's sake. She was just barely legal in the muggle world. Hermione threw open one of her trunks and searched through it for a change of clothes. She found a dark green V-neck tee shirt, which she paired with her dark jeans and cream-colored sweater. Hermione looked at herself in the mirror and walked out of dusty room.

Diagon Alley was right out the back door of the leaky cauldron, but for the first time in a while, Hermione didn't need magic, she needed an escape. She had left her wand in her room, and stuffed some muggle money in her back pocket – she hadn't walked through muggle London since before she was admitted to Hogwarts. It felt as if she was welcoming an old friend back into her life. It was the same as always – small streets, cars zooming by and tourists roaming the already busy streets. As usual, there were wizards and witches walking about the streets attempting to find their way to the Leaky Cauldron. Some of them even stopped her, recognizing her from the many articles that were written about the "Golden Trio" after the war had ended. She shook them off, and kept walking stopping by a coffee shop that looked fairly new.

It was quaint and small, and decorated in a lot of green furnishings. But it was cozy, Hermione walked up to the counter admiring the decorations around the shop. There was only one person working behind the counter, even though the shop seemed crowded enough. "Can I take your-" He stopped, staring at Hermione. She recognized his sparkly gray eyes, the ones that had just watched when she was tortured, and the voice that had mocked her for years. Her eyes went cold as he said in a soft voice, "Granger?"