When the pale serpentine body of Lord Voldemort; Tom Riddle, He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, hit the hard stones of hogwarts the survivors erupted into cheers forever marking that moment as the end of the war. Most of them, Hermione herself included, thought that Britain was finally free to go back to normal. However, that proved to be false. Relics from the war were thrown everywhere you went, writen on the faces of everyone you saw. Once where there were smiles and bright eyes, now a perpetual sense of gloom hung in the air and touched and affected everything and everyone.

The plane rocked violently, Hermione gripped tightened on the arm of her plush seat. How muggles dealt with this on a daily bases she could only imagine. If only we could have disapparated. She turned her attention to the gingered haired man seated to her right. His eyes transfixed on the window. He'll never be the same.

"What you thinking about George?" He broke away from the window to look at her. His eyes were puffy and red.

"Fred." He turned away from her. She held his hand but said nothing. What do you say to a person who had lost their other half. Wounds like that rarely healed. Sleep found her about an hour into the flight. She was standing back in Hogwarts, the familiar grey stones of the halls around her. At either end the hall disappeared into darkness. Slowly The walls moved closer and closer toward one another, with an eerie creaking noise as if they were made of wood. Hermione ran as fast as she could down the hall but it seemed there was no end to this particular hall of Hogwarts. Eventually the walls were skin tight around her, she screamed as she was being squashed. Suddenly, at the end of the hall a blonde petite stood with her bareback turned away from her. Hermione yelled for her help, and slowly the blonde turned toward her. Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

She was shaken awake by George. "We've landed." All around her people were either unbuckling their seatbelts, yawning, or stretching. Her eyes were golden, Hermione thought before unbuckling her own seatbelt and filing in line to deplane. George moved in behind her, grabbing their bags from the overhead compartment. The line was slow moving, many people ahead of her see saw Ron and Neville restlessly leaning from foot to the other. It took a few minutes but they got off the plane and followed the signs posted inside Fork's International Airport to the taxi lane. Located on the south side of the airport, the taxi lane was crowded to breaking point with people. They moved through the crowded pushing and being pushed every step of the way. Finally that made it to the roadside, where Hermione stuck out her body and hand to hail a yellow taxi. Moments later a taxi driven by a old brown skinned man pulled up to them and he hoped out to open passenger side door for her. The boys loaded their luggage into the boot of the car as she seated herself.

"Where to miss?" The driver asked her. She had to think for a moment before the address Kingsley had told her come back to her. The ride from the airport to their new home took almost an hour due to traffic. "People just starting to get off work." The old man had informed them, honking the horn repeatedly. The traffic had begun to let up when they turned off the highway and toward a small residential area. Small independent shops were everywhere and nice little family homes. "This is a nice area."

"Yes." The driver replied "But where you're going is nicer than this." He finished as he turn down a small side road. As they continued to drive the small shops appeared less frequently as did the homes. In their place big victorian style houses popped up, each more grand and isolated than the last. The sun had started to set by the time the cab rolled to a stop at the end of the driveway of a large two story, brick-colored, Tudor style house. "Well here we are."

"You can't be serious." Neville said from the back seat.

"This is the address you gave me." The driver said laughing and stepping out of the drives side to help them grab their bags from the car. They all followed his lead. While the guys struggled with the luggage, Hermione took in the house before her. She had explicitly told Kingsley nothing too grand, good to know that he hand taken her words to heart. The house was built on what had to be a few acres of land. Plants of every variety colored the front yard. She could see a small portion of the backyard from where she was and was able to glimpse what seemed to be a pool.

The men unloaded the taxi and Neville paid the nice gentleman and together the four of them made their way up to the front door. A small white envelope was nailed neatly to the door, Hermione took it down and carefully opened it.

I hope your flight to America wasn't too unpleasant, having to ride in those metal death traps can make anyone uneasy I bet. Anyway, I hope you find your new home to your liking please consider it one of many gifts the wizarding world owes you.

The letter was signed by Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of magic to the United Kingdom. At the bottom was a postscript.

Harry has returned to the ministry, he looks better. Not great but better.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She hadn't seen Harry in so long, it was good to hear that he was back home. Hermione passed the note to George before wiping her eyes dry. George read the letter before passing it to Ron who in turn read it before passing it to Neville. Each had tears in their eyes by the end of it.

She pushed the door open.

The house was decorated in equal amounts of grandeur as the outside. The bedrooms were located on the second floor. Each door had a plaque with their names written on them. Each made their way to their respective rooms to unpack. Her room was large, no doubt the others were too, she threw her luggage on top of the large bed. Already fully committed to putting off unpacking for as long as possible. Instead she walked around her room. It consisted of a walk-in closet almost as big as the room itself. "What a waste." She had mutter when she saw it "I'll never own enough clothes to fill this room up." Next to the closet was an small bathroom, so she wouldn't have to share one with anyone if she didn't want to. Dressers made up the rest of her room apart from a small dark wood vanity, with what seemed to be hundreds of small boxes on it. Hermione picked up one of the small delicate boxes and recognised them for what they were, jewlery. She opened up the box to unveil a beautiful pearl necklace. The necklace was even more beautiful around her neck as she observed in the mirror. "Thank you Kingsley."

A small envelope hidden amongst the boxes caught her eyes as she stood up. She picked it up. It was sealed with green wax. On the back a name was written.

Draco L. Malfoy.

Hermione stood shocked for a moment. Why is he writing me? She quickly tore open the letter. The letter was short and to the point. He had only bothered to write down a couple of words.

We're even.

Hermione crumbled up the letter and threw it aside. "I didn't do it because I wanted anything you stupid git." Hermione took off the necklace and placed it back in it's box before making her way to the boys rooms. All the rooms ended up being similar in layout to hers. Minus the separate bathroom.

Together they made their way back downstairs to the living room. George and herself took up residence on the couch that faced the television. After a couple minutes of Hermione explaining how it worked, he was flipping through the channels looking for something good to watch. Neville and Ron headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner for all of them, Bacon-Wrapped Rosemary Chicken Marsala. Hermione hadn't eaten yet so her stomach growled as the air began to fill with the smells of chicken, bacon and herbs and spices. She had tried to sneak a piece of bacon but her chefs were vigilant today and wouldn't allow it.

Only after diner was done and everyone was fed, Hermione decided to remind everyone that they had school tomorrow.

George just moaned "I don't see why I have to go to school. I'm old enough to be done with muggle school."

"Because I said so!" Hermione yelled at him, turning her attention to the other two boys.

"We should just drop out, we already finished bloody school Hermione!"

"Need I remind you Ronald, that we are only seventeen years old? We may have finished wizarding school but here in the muggle world we have a whole year left!"

"Besides I can't be the only one who excited to go back to school."

"Trust me you are, Hermione. You were always good at school. The top of everything. Not so much for the rest of us." Neville said. "I was only ever good at herbology and I doubt that they have that as a subject." Hermione at never thought of it like that. She had always loved learning it. It was only natural that she had jumped at the opportunity for them to return to school. It never occurred to her that her friends may not have been so inclined.

Shit, now I feel bad. "Look guys, I'm sure it just going to be another boring year of work. Nothing we can't handle right?"