Disclaimer: This is a work of FanFiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, trademarked by none other than J.K. Rowling. Other names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products solely of my imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Warnings: OOC / Debatable AU / Fluffy / Profanity / Sexual content

Timeline: Post-Hogwarts / EWE

Important note: This is a (rather lengthy) story of love, friendship and family. Highly encouraged for a bit of light reading. If you are looking for dark themes and angst, kindly look elsewhere. Please enjoy, have a good laugh and review! :)

09/08/2015 – EDIT/REVISION IN PROGRESS

Hermione Granger sat there in utter shock as her boyfriend of nine years stared at her with hollowed eyes after giving his speech that consisted of his wish to break up with her due to the fact that he felt that their relationship was going nowhere and that she was more dedicated to her career than their relationship.

"It's been a long time coming," Ron Weasley continued as he shifted his gaze from her face to the engagement ring he presented to her seven years prior, adorning her left hand. "You're never here, Hermione, and when you're here, you're always talking about your accomplishments or some bloody incident at the damn Ministry!" his voice raised a tad.

Surprised, she drew back in her chair. "W-what?"

"It's always about you. It's never about me or us. We've been together for Merlin knows how long but sometimes I feel like you're a complete stranger. We've been engaged for seven bloody years and not once have we talked about our wedding. If I do bring up the topic, you always have an excuse. It's either you're not in the mood, you're tired or you'll change the subject."

"That's not true," she protested weakly. Looking back, he was right. Sometimes the thought of marriage gave her an unsettling feeling in her stomach.

"You know it is. Tell me, Hermione, and please be honest. Do you want to marry me or not?"

"Of course I do! Just not... now," she finished faintly. "I have a lot of things going on at the Ministry—" She was cut off as Ron gave a shout of frustration and he stood up and started pacing in front of her.

"See, this is what I'm talking about." He stopped moving and stared at her. "This isn't working for me. I love you, Hermione, with all of my heart, but this isn't working for me."

She stood up too, eyes flashing and her fists clenched at her sides. For the life of her, she couldn't say anything. She was angry, yes, but she was shocked. Shocked because she hadn't seen this one coming.

Shocked because he was right. Shocked because the thought of her without him didn't bother her the way it should have.

"Say something, Hermione."

"What do you want me to say?" she said tightly.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I've been thinking about this for a long time and I feel like we're not working on our relationship the way we should have." Wincing, he said, "I don't feel the same way I did before."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Would you hate me if I said the same?"

"Merlin, no," he said quickly and then he smiled sadly. "It's over between us, isn't it?"

Out of nowhere, a big fat tear slid down her cheek as she came forward and hugged his familiar body. "I'm sorry," she whispered against his chest. "I'm sorry we couldn't make it work."

"I'm sorry, too."

They shared one last bittersweet kiss before Hermione fled Ron's flat in Diagon Alley.

It was Saturday afternoon, the sun was past its zenith, and the street was alive and buzzing as wizards and witches of all ages walked by.

She couldn't cry even if she wanted to, but she was with heavy heart. She was bothered most by the fact that she wasn't heartbroken. Shouldn't she feel heartbroken at least a bit? They had been together for nine years and was on the way to a marriage, but somewhere along those nine years, they had drifted apart and didn't even notice it.

Realization struck her and she paused from walking, making the person behind her bump on her chest and grumbled. "What gives," the figure mumbled and Hermione turned around to apologize. But before she could open her mouth, the figure recognized her and she was engulfed in a hug. "Hermione Granger, you clumsy oaf," the figure squealed.

Hermione laughed and wrapped her own arms around the smaller woman. "Lisa Cauliff," she laughed. She was no social butterfly during her Hogwarts days, but she had a few friends outside Gryffindor. Lisa Cauliff was three years her junior in age, but two years behind in Hogwarts.

Lisa Cauliff was the person who proved to her that not all Slytherins were bad. Hermione was one of the few who returned to Hogwarts after the war to finish her education; she met Lisa in the library one evening. In fact, Lisa sought her ought to ask for help in Transfigurations. They became friends ever since, studying together on numerous occasions.

Hermione pulled away from the hug and leaned back to get a good look at the younger woman. "Wow, you're lovely," she gushed, taking in the wavy blonde hair supported by a barrette, the twinkling blue eyes, the small upturned nose and the pink lips that was stretched into a wide smile. The former Slytherin was dressed in a tight peach sleeveless peach blouse, paired with a pair of black slacks and white high-heeled sandals. All in all, Lisa Cauliff was the picture of sophistication, a far cry from the happy-go-lucky, talkative girl she knew back in Hogwarts.

"Thank you," Lisa responded still grinning, always one to accept compliments. "I missed you, Hermione! It's been nine years, how come we never wrote to each other? Oh, we have to catch up! How about Rosa Lee Teabag? I have lots to tell you! Oh, how have you been? I love your shoes. Where did you get- ?"

Hermione grinned. Apparently, her earlier assumption was incorrect. Lisa Cauliff was, and always will be, the same happy-go-lucky girl. She reached up and slapped a hand on Lisa's mouth. "Let's get some tea."

Rosa Lee Teabag was merely three stores away from where they were standing. They quickly walked over to the store, their arms linked. It had been a long time since Hermione went out with a girl friend, except for Ginny, but she usually saw Ginny over dinner and every Sunday for breakfast at the Burrow, along with the entire clan of Weasleys and Harry Potter.

They chose a table beside the window. As soon as they were sitting, a waitress came over and took their order of two cups of Earl Grey and a place of sandwiches with no crusts! Lisa instructed as Hermione smiled in amusement; she forgot how funny Lisa's tendency to be a spoiled brat could be.

"So," Lisa said excitedly. "What's been going on with you?"

"Oh, this and that," Hermione replied offhandedly. "After Hogwarts, I've been working in the Ministry. What about you? What do you do?" Ron was right. All she could talk about was work.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" Hermione gaped at her.

"Yes. Women in my family don't usually do anything." Lisa shrugged. "Anyway, it's a good thing I bumped into you, Hermione." She smiled softly. "I'm getting married next month and I want you to come."

"Oh my! Really? Congratulations!"

The conversation paused as the waitress came back with their tea and sandwiches. They thanked her and continued with the conversation. "Thank you," Lisa said. "It's going to be held in a small town in Cornwall. It's where my fiancé grew up, you see. I'll send you an invitation and include a portkey. Everyone who lives in Little Dunwoodie is also attending."

"Why?"

"Everyone knows everyone over there."

"How quaint," Hermione quipped in amusement. "Little Dunwoodie."

"I think you're going to like it there. I know I did. It's a very intimate little town and everyone is just so polite, so nice."

A thought entered Hermione's mind. "Will I really? I've been thinking of... getting away from the city."

Lisa's perfectly shaped brows drew together in genuine concern as she gazed at her old friend. "Little Dunwoodie is the perfect place. In fact, a friend of mine went there to get away from a lot of things a little over seven years ago. He's been there ever since..." she hesitated. "What happened, Hermione?"

"Do you remember me telling you about Ron, my boyfriend?" At Lisa's nod, she continued. "Well, we recently broke up... just this morning actually. But I'm fine—" she quickly assured the other woman as she let out a moan of sadness. "We're fine. I think. What's bothering me is that it's not bothering me the way it should have. Hell." Hermione let out a short laugh. "I guess I just got a little caught up with my career, you know?"

"I understand," Lisa said gently.

"I'm sorry for laying this one out on you."

"Hermione, we're friends. We haven't been in touch with each other but we're still friends. Anyway, I know how your career means to you. You always said when we were in Hogwarts that you want to obtain a high position in the Ministry."

They smiled reminiscently.

"And did you?" Lisa prompted.

"Yes, I did." Hermione beamed. "I became the director for the Beast Division in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magic Creatures. After three years, I moved to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and became Director for the Hit Wizards subdivision."

"Wow," her companion breathed. "And you're only 27, right? I'm 24 and the only thing I've ever done—blimey! I haven't done anything!" Lisa laughed good-naturedly. "But I really do like my life this way. I travel when I get bored. And when I get married, I'm going to love being a wife and mother."

"You're going to be a great wife and mother." Lisa smiled at her brilliantly. Neither noticed that they hadn't touched their tea and finger food. "Hermione, there's a cottage in Little Dunwoodie that's available for rent. Although it's on the far end of the town, a bit secluded, but it's excellent—the ocean is right on your doorstep. My friend, the one I told you about earlier, built the cottage. The previous tenant died a little over eight months ago."

"Oh," Hermione gasped. "How come?"

"Of old age," Lisa assured her quickly. "She was 90 years old. My friend was sad about it; she was really nice and she baked him great pies."

They chatted more for about four more hours and when hunger overcame them, they nibbled on the sandwiches and sipped their cold tea. But the time came for them to part ways for Lisa was due for dinner with her family in their home in Leeds. Lisa promised to owl her the wedding invitation and portkey the very next day.

When Hermione arrived in her fairly modern flat in Inner Muggle London, she was suddenly engulfed in the arms of another familiar figure. "Harry," she wheezed out, struggling to catch her breath as he squeezed her tightly.

"Ron just told me," Harry Potter said as soon as he pulled away. He grabbed her shoulders and shook her a little. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. Where have you been all day? Ron said you'd left around noon. Are you alright? Do you want to stay over at our place for the time being?"

"Harry," she said in a whine and stepped away from him, shrugging off her coat. "I'm fine. You're overreacting. I was in Diagon Alley, I bumped into an old friend of mine and we were catching up over tea."

"I could keep you company for a while," Harry offered as he walked over to the sofa and threw himself over it. He hesitated. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She sat down beside him on the couch and laid her head on his shoulder. Harry threw an arm around her and his hand rubbed her shoulder. "There's nothing to talk about," she said softly.

After her time with Lisa, she was completely comforted and she wasn't even bothered anymore. They sat there together for a long, silent time... "Do you ever think about when we were at Hogwarts?" she asked suddenly.

"Sometimes," Harry admitted. "Me too. I bumped into my old friend Lisa Cauliff who was in Slytherin, we became friends when I went back to finish my seventh year."

"Oh yeah, you mentioned her before."

"Do you wonder where our old Gryffindor friends are now? What about the Slytherins?" she chuckled. "You ever thought about Malfoy?"

Harry laughed. "Not at all. Do you?"

"I sometimes do," she muttered with a laugh. "I wonder if he has a child, will he be teaching him or her to degrade muggleborns like he did?"

Harry's brows furrowed. "What brought this on?"

"I'm not really sure."

"Well, I don't really want to talk about Malfoy."

"Sorry," she muttered sheepishly. "I've been reminiscing with Lisa all day and she talked about him for a bit." She sat up and turned to face Harry. "Ron told me I'm too involved with my career. Do you think it's true?"

He hesitated for a bit. "Well... yes."

"I think this is my wake up call, Harry. What do you think of me taking a break from it all? Go away from the city, cramp up in a small cottage beside the ocean, meet new people."

His eyes widened and then he grinned. "I think this is a great idea. Hermione, we've been working together for seven years at the Auror Office. I couldn't remember a time when you had ever gone on vacation. You're the first to come into the office and you're also the last one to leave for seven whole years. I think it's about time!"

"Really?"

"Yes. What do you have in mind?"

"Cornwall."

"Cornwall! What's in Cornwall?"

"A lot of things. I've never been there, but there's this little wizarding town called Little Dunwoodie. From what Lisa has told me it's tiny and a bit rural but everyone is nice and apparently, everyone knows everyone. There's a cottage for rent at the far end of the town and she told me that the ocean is just by the doorstep."

"Well, it looks like your mind's been made up," Harry stated. "How long will you be gone?"

"Indefinitely," Hermione said decisively.

"You're not serious?"

"I am."

"But why?"

"Ron made me realize that I should concentrate more on my personal life," she admitted. "And when Lisa was talking about how she's going to be a good mother and a good wife—well, I felt this pang in my chest. I know now that I do want to be that as well, besides having a great career."

"And you're all going to find this in Cornwall?"

She frowned. "That's not what I meant. Maybe. Who knows? I'm going there to just take a break. Reassess my life. I'm not getting any younger."

A week after her breakup with Ron she spent the past week seriously thinking about Little Dunwoodie. It seems that after the breakup, she had little interest in her work and everyone noticed.

Had she been too hasty in saying yes to Lisa? For the past five days, she came in to work late a couple of times and left at promptly five. Harry asked what was wrong and assured him it had nothing to do with the breakup because it was the truth. He seemed to be accepting, but he still doubted her.

Friday night, before she left the Ministry, she slapped a resignation letter on Harry's desk and he signed it, no questions asked because they had already talked about it.

Funnily enough, she didn't look back. Not once.

She found that she was actually looking forward to leaving the city. She cleared her flat of the little possessions she had–clothes, books, photo albums, etc., and left the furniture in their places.

Very early the next day, she left the city. It took Hermione about almost a day to get to Little Dunwoodie. From London to Plymouth took about three hours or so and from Plymouth to Penzance in Cornwall took about two hours. In Penzance, there would be someone who would take her to Little Dunwoodie. Since she was unavailable, Lisa arranged for her fiancé, Cade Alastair, to fetch Hermione from the train station.

As she got down from the train, pulling her suitcase behind her she was immediately approached by a tall man with curly light brown hair. He was smiling in open friendliness and his eyes were twinkling even in the dim light of the evening.

"You must be Hermione Granger," he said extending a hand at her.

Before she took it, she lifted an eyebrow at him. "How could you tell?"

"Lisa showed me a picture of you," he responded, unfazed by her wariness.

Hermione took his hand to shake it briefly. "Sorry, I have a tendency to become a little wary with strangers."

"Well, you're going to have to let go of that habit while you're here. May I take your suitcase?" At her nod, he grasped the handle and pulled it to him. "We best be going." He guided her out of the platform and to her surprise, there was a black sedan car waiting for them.

She couldn't but ask, "A car?"

"Yeah," Cade muttered as he took out a set of keys from his front pocket and clicked on the lock control. He opened the door behind the driver's seat and threw in her suitcase. "Well, get in," he said as he opened the door to the driver's side.

She quickly opened the door and stuffed herself in. "People in Little Dunwoodie love to walk so they can socialize," he said in explanation. He grinned at her as he put the key in the ignition and started the car. Adjusting the rear view mirror, he started to drive. "As for my family and I, we live up the hill a little far from the main street and where everything else is so we needed a car. We're not in any way connected with the floo network and there is an anti-apparition jinx around the whole town. So we decided to use muggle cars."

"Interesting," she murmured.

"Oh, by the way, I want to give you a little heads up about your landlord. His name's Dane Mackenzie and mostly keeps to himself, but he's a pretty nice bloke if you get to know him." Cade flashed her a quick smile before he focused on the narrow, dark road again. "You'd have to understand, after being involved in the war nine years ago, he was pretty shaken up."

She shot him a suspicious glance. "Dane Mackenzie, you say? What did the war do to him?"

Cade shrugged his shoulders as he maneuvered the car to the right. "I'm not really sure. He never talks about it with me. See if you can crack it out of Lisa, she insists that it's not her story to tell."

"I- I know, a few people who were involved in that war. I've never heard of him. Was he a—?"

"I really have no idea, Hermione," Cade cut her off in a firm tone.

A taut silence fell inside the car.

Hermione stared out of the window, deep in thought. Who the hell was Dane Mackenzie? An Auror? A Death Eater? A student?

Little Dunwoodie was an adolescent town and it truly was tiny. The houses and establishments were either made from stone or bricks that reminded her of rural living. The main street consisted of two pubs, three restaurants, a small hotel, the local auror station, a barbershop and a salon, a grocery, an apothecary, an all-around bookstore, a sweets shop, an ice cream parlor, a Quidditch supplies shop, a small coffee and tea shop, five clothing shops, a few more other stores. There was not much, but everything one needed was right there. One need not to look elsewhere.

They passed by the main street and turned about four more corners. The road led up to a rocky hill now and she caught a glimpse of the ocean, despite it being dark on the road. The road, though, was bare but she could see two houses illuminated by yellow lights at the far end. "Dane likes to keep the house alight because it's too dark out here."

"And where do you live?" Hermione asked. "You said you live at the far end of the town."

"We actually live at the far south side of town," Cade responded as the car started slowing down. "This is the east side. If you think if the town's a bit too far, you can borrow one of Dane's trucks. He has three."

"Oh, I couldn't do that!" Hermione assumed that her landlord was a muggleborn and she looked forward to meeting him, despite her wariness over this intriguing involvement in the war.

"No," Cade chuckled. "He insists his tenants to use his trucks. He even lets you pick which one you'd like to use." He pulled the car into a wide driveway upwards and in front of the cottage.

The main house (which was significantly larger than the cottage) was sitting atop the highest point of the lot and the cottage was about sixty feet away from it, on the lower side of the lot. The cottage was quite small and bluntly square made of granite walls that were about two feet thick. The garden between and around the two structures were very spacious and the grass was neatly trimmed. There were a set of assorted trees that framed the entire lot.

"I'm going to love it here," she said out loud as soon as she was standing in front of the cottage.

"Wait 'til you see it during the day," Cade chuckled again as he came up behind her, her suitcase on his hand. He left it standing beside her. "Dane's a lucky bloke for find this house. It was abandoned, but he came to it one night when he got lost. Do want to come inside now?"

Hermione hesitated. "What about the landlord?"

He glanced over at the main house and he looked around briefly before turning to look around her again. "Look, only two trucks. He must be in town."

"Oh," she said in disappointment. She was looking forward to see this Dane Mackenzie for herself, the mention of him being involved in the war nine years ago resurfacing. "Well, I guess I'll meet him tomorrow."

Cade handed her the cottage's key and promptly left.

Hermione sighed, picking up her suitcase and walked slowly to the front door. She was awestruck at the sight that greeted her. Little Dunwoodie was a wizarding town indeed but the cottage was full of muggle equipment.

Upon opening the door, she was immediately greeted by the living room as it stretches along one side of the house with a comfortable looking orange couch in front of an open fireplace, a flat screen TV and a DVD player. She was delighted about that telly and the DVD player because in her own flat in London, she didn't own either of those, being too caught up in the Wizarding World and never spent enough time at home.

Beyond the living room was the dining room which contained a rather small dining table for four and the kitchen had a dishwasher, modern units, electric cooker, microwave and a fridge. The entire place was carpeted, she observed with awe. The cottage was comfortably more furnished than her own flat in which she had been living in for the past six years. Closing the front door, she saw an entryway to her left and caught sight of a small flight of stairs. Upstairs were two bedrooms; a double bed in one, the other with twin beds and an empty room, together with a fully tiled modern bathroom. There was also an extra room at the far end of the hallway and it contained a washing machine. All in all, she found the entire cottage very charming and very homey.

It reminded her a bit of her childhood home and felt guilty for not visiting as often as she should have. She had indeed taken a lot of things for granted because of her focus on her career. Nobody told her that being successful also included losing one's soul in the process.

She found herself back in the bigger of the two bedrooms. It was big enough for a bed, a vanity and a lounge chair. The window adjacent to the bed was wide and proved a great view as she saw the flickering lights from other homes and cottages and the town. She can hardly wait to see it in the morning and if she moved farther to her left, she could see the ocean clearly from beyond the main house but it blocked its view partially.

She thought of unpacking but suddenly the long train ride caught up to her and she collapsed on the bed, on top of the covers. It was firm but soft enough for her to sink in the middle of it. She was only able to kick off her shoes before she drifted off to dream land.

It was about five hours later when she was jolted awake from her deep sleep, her heart beating fast, thinking that she was being summoned to the Ministry due to a raid or something when she remembered that she passed her resignation the day before she left for Little Dunwoodie.

It was dawn and glancing at the clock on the small bedside table confirmed that it was a little past four in the morning. The morning twilight was painted in a hint of pink, a hint of blue and a hint of indigo.

It was beautiful.

She sat up in bed and stretched lazily, and then fumbled to turn on the lamp. She was still wearing her button down blouse and she was unbuttoning it as she jumped from the bed to look outside the window. She was, however, unprepared for the sight that greeted her.

Just as she stood by the window, she had shrugged off her blouse, a man was directly looking up at the window. Her eyes widened and with a loud cry of dismay, she stumbled back—thankfully—half on the bed.

That could only be Dane Mackenzie. Her landlord.

Mortification filled her to the core and she could feel her blush all the way down to her chest as she lay there on the bed, her legs dangling over the side. Oh what must he think of me now? She thought to her herself frantically.

He probably thought she was some common tart... or something. Oh Merlin.

"It's either that or he's delighted," she muttered out loud. The lamp's light was very strong and it lit up the entire room so she was pretty sure he had gotten an eyeful.

She groaned out loud and sat up. She could just die right now. She crawled on the floor from the bed and pulled the curtains to close them.