Chapter 1
prologue
Voldemort is dead. Harry is completely exhausted. The once majestic castle is now a pile of stones, rubble and broken memories. The Great Hall, once a place of festivities and laughter, has become a burial shrine, filled with the bodies of those who fought and, for many, fell.
Hermione Granger contemplates this scene with a dull ache, snuggled in the arms of her best friend Ron Weasley. The war's over. Seven long years of anguish, struggles and sacrifices are finally behind them. The Dark Lord is defeated. But at what cost?
In silence, the two Gryffindors walk up the huge room, their eyes resting in turn on the motionless faces of their comrades. These faces they knew so well, once full of life, are now frozen in eternity. Ron sees his parents in the distance. Molly and Arthur mourn the loss of Fred, and Hermione feels her heart break a little more at the sight of it. She slowly releases her grip and moves forward on her own. His gaze lingers on the bodies of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, who fell side by side.
She thinks of their son, Teddy. A baby only a few weeks old, now an orphan. But Hermione knows that Harry will be there for him. Remus has given her the role of godfather, and the survivor will honour that promise, she has no doubt. However, this thought is not enough to appease the young woman. A new wave of pain washes over her as her mind drifts to her own parents.
Hermione has tried everything to protect them. She had erased their memories, sent them to Australia under new identities. But it wasn't enough. The images of Bellatrix Lestrange torturing her parents, their cries of suffering, come back with unbearable violence. Her arm still burns where Doloris' spell left its mark. His head spins, ready to explode. Panic overwhelmed her. She wants to run away from this room, these memories, but her legs refuse to move.
The world is darkening around her. She collapses, but arms hold her back. A strong and reassuring embrace. She vaguely distinguishes red, platinum blonde, and black locks, but her eyes close before she can understand. Nothingness prevails.
Hermione wakes up the next day, lying in her old bed in the girls' dormitory at Gryffindor. The sun barely shines on the room, but her heavy eyelids are a testament to the hours of sleep her body desperately needed. Slowly, she straightens up and gazes at the silent room. His gaze rests on the next bed, Lavender Brown's. A shiver runs through her as she remembers what happened to her former roommate. Lavender, mutilated by Greyback, did not survive.
The pain returns, like a stab. It lacks air. Panic looms again, but Hermione refuses to give in. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. She has to go. She needs air, calm.
Harry has offered her a room in Grimmaurd Square, in Sirius' old house, but she can't bring herself to do so. Not there, not with all those memories of a war she wants to forget. No, she must move away from this magical world that she had admired so much, this world that took everything from her.
Hermione turns her eyes to the window. The night is still deep, the dawn far away. This is his chance. If she acts now, no one will see her go. She grabs her enchanted purse from the foot of her bed and adds a few essentials. Then, she sits down at her desk, pen in hand. Three letters take shape, each addressed to those she loves most. When she puts them on her pillow, a weight seems to be lifted from her chest.
One last look at the empty room, and it apparates.
Diagon Alley is deserted. The streets, once bustling, are eerily silent. Hermione takes a determined step towards Gringotts, aware that the goblins' welcome will be anything but warm. The events of the last few days have weighed heavily on their relationship.
After long minutes of negotiations, a sincere apology, and a generous donation to help repair the damage caused, the goblins finally agree to his request. The funds in his account are transferred to the British National Bank.
Hermione continues on her way to a Muggle bank, where she makes withdrawals and retrieves valuable documents from a small safe. In the vault, she holds two passports. Her fingers tremble as she contemplates one of them, the one marked with the name of Hermione Granger. After a long hesitation, she puts it back in the trunk. The other, a passport under a new identity, disappears in his bag, along with a sealed envelope.
At this precise moment, Hermione Granger ceases to exist.