Hey people! This is my first attempt at any sort of fanfiction. Seeing as I'm quite fond of Hermione/Oliver pairings I decided to try my hand at one. I promise Oliver will show up by Chapter 3, soo please be patient! I'll try to update this once a week at the very least so stay tuned.

Read and Review lovies! I know this first chapter isn't all that great, so bear with me and leave CONSTRUCTIVE criticism please x) If I get enough reviews I'll consider giving you all a say in the direction of the story (character names, etc.)

__Chapter One__

A Horrid Morning

The blare of an alarm clock reverberated throughout a tiny London flat, its green digital font spelling 5:45. Letting out a low moan as she rolled onto her side, Hermione Granger quickly pushed the "OFF" button, her bushy brown hair plastered to her face after a troubling night. She had the vague feeling that she'd had a nightmare, but as it so often did, the blare of her alarm clock had interrupted it, leaving it to be forgotten.

Nightmares had grown to be a frequent happening, ever since the war. It had had a profound effect upon her, along with the entire wizarding population. However, the pain and suffering were simply too much for her to bear and she had decided to try her hand at living amongst muggles for a change; muggles that wouldn't notice her flinch at the sight of every person that somewhat resembled one of the dear friends she had lost that fated night nearly a year ago. Harry and Ron tried desperately to get her to come back to the world they claimed she belonged in. They said she was being, for once in her life, "irrational", however, their letters and pleas no longer had an effect on her and they had settled with visiting her every so often. It was obvious that they were far from giving up.

After casting a small frown at the empty opposite side of her bed, she slowly crawled out of bed and stumbled over to her closet, pulling random articles of clothing that she supposed matched out of her closet, finally making her way to the bathroom to prepare herself for the day. Ever since she had landed a job as a journalist, thanks to the papers she forged that stated the university she had gone to, she had fallen into the step of a mundane routine. Wake up, get dressed, go to work, eat, come home. As drab as it seemed, it kept her mind far from the wizarding world. There were times she even almost forgotten it existed…almost.

After a half an hour, she appeared in her shabby kitchen wearing a her typical attire of button up shirt tucked into a grey tweed skirt, her definition of "business attire". Her hair, damp from a quick shower, hung down to her shoulders and her face wore the expression of someone who'd rather be somewhere else. Her eyes flew to the clock on the wall and she felt a pang of nostalgia as she caught herself hoping to see one similar to the Weasley family's, with varied hands with names and location of family members. Yet all that stared back was a bold 6:37, translation: LATE. "Get a hold of yourself!" She whispered to herself quietly and, after grabbing her purse and reporter-style notebook and slipping on a pair of un-noteworthy heels, she was out the door.

She climbed into her old car before realizing she couldn't find her keys in her purse. Her instant reflex was to reach for her wand and retrieve them with a simple accio, however all her hand met was the rough tweed of her skirt, her wand lying hidden in a drawer inside. It was insanely unrealistic of her to have thought she could train herself to not be a witch. It was so ingrained in her. Hermione had tried telling herself that what she was doing was for the best; that it was protecting her from deeper hurts, but on mornings like this, it was easy to doubt her reasoning. Letting out an impatient sigh, she opened her car door and went and retrieved a spare key from the trunk of her car. Once back in the driver's seat, she shoved it into the ignition and pressed on the gas, letting out a yelp as she flew backwards, as a result of unknowingly having the car in reverse. Her foot had jammed on the breaks at the perfect instant, her rear bumper inches from the car behind her. "Bloody hell…" she muttered to herself, yanking the clutch into "drive" and beginning her morning commute to work. "Can this morning get any worse?"

…

"You're fired, Ms. Granger."

Hermione stood before her boss, dumbstruck.

When she had arrived at work that morning, the receptionist had told her that the boss wanted to speak with her, but she couldn't have ever expected this.

"Erm.. excuse me? I- I don't understand."

"I'm sorry but to be honest, your work is far too…out there." Her boss traced apostrophe marks in the air with his middle and index fingers as he stated the last two words. "You were assigned to do a children's story for a preschooler level magazine and you submitted a story about a bouncing cauldron? Please Hermione, this is not the Halloween issue. It's got to be somewhat believable. Your work leaves me backlogged every time and I'm sorry. I just can't afford having you on the team."

Hermione bit her lip, frowning. She had loosely based the story upon one she found in her copy of Beetle the Bard and hadn't even considered how it would sound to a muggle audience.

"I…please just give me another chance!"

"Your 'last chance' was up ages ago. Please pack your things and leave."

Standing frozen before his mahogany desk, Hermione's eyes began to well up. "I…I…"

"Spare me the waterworks, darling. They really won't help your cause" and with that, he looked back down at his work, signing paper after paper.

As tears started marking their sodden tracks down her face, Hermione grabbed her bag and left, ignoring the questioning look the receptionist shot at her.

Sitting in her car, completely baffled by the previous events, Hermione decided upon following the only definitive thought she had: "I need a pint…"

After an hour or so at the local pub and rejecting many a drink from drunken men, she heard a distant ringing. Realizing it was her phone, which rarely ever rang seeing as only two people on earth had its number, she quickly answered.

"Hello?" She asked in a quiet tone, expecting either Ron or Harry's voice to respond.

"HERMIONE? HULLO?"

Definitely Ron. He still hadn't quite gotten the hang of using cell phones.

"What is it Ronald?" She asked, using his full name, which she reserved for the off occasion that she was genuinely upset.

Ron seemed to pick up on it instantly and took on a quieter, guarded tone.

"Erm…"

Hermione heard the phone being handed from one individual from another and it was Harry who spoke this time.

"Hermione, come home."

"What?! Harry…" she frowned. "We've gone over this…"

"No, I mean come to your apartment. We're paying you a visit."

"Oh… er. Alright." She responded and was promptly met by a dial tone.

It was quite unlike Ron and Harry to drop by unannounced and, despite her unwillingness to face their carefully thought out arguments for her return to the wizarding world (especially when she was so close to submitting), curiosity burned within her and she left her third glass unfinished, grabbing her keys and rushing out to her car for what was sure to be an interesting encounter.