A/N: This story will be written in the first person from Hermione's POV unless otherwise specified. If you have a problem with this I apologize but it is important for it in this story for perspective purposes. If you like my other story "Kiss This", I have no doubts that you will most likely like this one as well. So please Read, REVIEW, and above all Enjoy!

Prologue…

The golden trio graduated Hogwarts nearly ten years ago, Ron and Harry did exactly what everyone expected them to, they became Aurors, however with the fall of Voldemort and the majority of the death eaters either dead or in Azkaban the need for Aurors have been minimal. However the third member of the trio did something no one ever expected and if you were to see her today you would hardly recognize her. Hermione Granger is no longer the Hogwarts know-it-all bushy-haired buck-toothed child that she once was, she is now a grown women who knows who she is and isn't afraid to show it. In two weeks will be the ten year reunion at Hogwarts for Hermione's graduating class and Hermione has decided that it's time to be seen again.

CHAPTER 1: HORSE SHOES AND HAND GRENADES

Who ever said life was supposed to be easy must have been a permanent resident at St. Mungo's; because life has been anything but easy for me. Then again that is to be expected when you are a muggle born living in the wizarding world. Since I was eleven years old I have tried to fit into the stuck up stiff society of pureblood assholes, and have always been looked down upon because of my parents. Well I'm now 28 and I've given the wizarding world something to talk about, I will no longer conform and try to fit it, I am going to be who I am, a muggle born witch! I have given up on traditional wizarding robes and after a short stay in Texas after graduation I have taken up to wearing tight black jeans, a short midrift shirt, and a leather jacket. And what else would a muggle born drive but a Harley. I think by now everyone within Diagon Alley has gotten used to seeing my Harley on a daily basis, but it will never cease to amaze me how the purebloods turn their noses up when they see me coming. One would think their shit don't stink they way they walk, but I know better, they bleed red just like me. I've chosen to embrace my heritage as they do.

As you would expect I run my own shop, an apothecary if you can believe it. I find that my attire is more conducive to potion making and tending to herbs than robes. I named the shop in memory of my mother, a constant reminder of who I am and who I am proud to be. Welcome to Mishka's! My mother was named after my great-great grandmother who was Russian; I always loved my mother's name; because of it no one really knows that I, Hermione Granger, owns Mishka's and I like it that way. It's one less person to look down their nose at me. I have charmed my business so that the only use of magic inside and to the building is my own. Any other magic tried will be useless and will fail. No one ever said I was the smartest witch to come out of Hogwarts in a century for nothing ya know.

So here I am, another day, another knut, not ten minutes after I open I find the biggest asshole of them all standing at my counter. Of course he doesn't recognize me; short straight black hair would disguise even the Weasley's. I great him nicely of course, wouldn't want to give away to quickly who he's dealing with, even though I could hex him till his nuts fall off, doesn't mean I want to deal with the insults this early in the morning. He's been coming in here for three weeks and always wants the same damn thing.

"Good Morning Mr. Malfoy, what can I get for you today?"

"Good Morning Mishka, when are you going to get rid of that muggle contraption that you ride?"

"At present, Never!" I say rather confidently, "I don't plan to sell my Harley, it belonged to my father and I happen to like riding it. It's better than a broom!" I knew this would insult him, he IS the king of brooms, or so he believes anyway.

"I rather despise that contraption you have…"

I cut him off, I wasn't in any mood to listen to his complaints against my bike, "Mr. Malfoy either tell me what you are here for or leave my shop. What I drive is not your concern."

"Mishka are you ever going to go to dinner with me?" He whined; he does that frequently, it is his own way of changing the subject.

"Does a snowball have a chance in hell?" I counter; I wouldn't date him if he was the last man on earth.

"Go to the Hogwarts reunion with me at least." He was pleading, even reached for my hand.

"Again, when a snowball has a chance in hell I may think about it, until then either buy something or leave. I will not ask you again." I jerk my hand away from him and point towards the door.

For now he has conceded and leaves my shop.

"God Damned inbred asshole, why can't he just leave well enough alone!" Every time he shows up I'm half tempted to ward my shop to keep him out, but then that would just raise more questions that I don't need. In my seven years at Hogwarts I never like Draco and now 10 years after graduation I still can't stand the asshole.

"Besides, he's infatuated with a person that doesn't exist, he doesn't like me, Hell, he don't even know me." I rant to myself, this is a common occurrence.