This Bitter Earth

ONE

A/N: Welcome back, Dear Readers! Have you missed me? I bet you have. Well, I hope you took this time to heal from the wounds of Daylight because you're going to need your strength for This Bitter Earth.

Just as a reminder, this is a work of fan fiction and I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter. I took inspiration from both the Deathly Hallows book and movies for this story so you will see some scenes re-written to fit into the plot here.

A big thanks to vanelle565 for betaing and not being afraid of my typos and a special shout out and my eternal gratitude to Bree, mysweetorangetree, for being alpha/beta and my personal cheerleader. You get my first-born or whatever. You know how bad I am at saying thanks. And always, thank you to all of you dear readers for coming back and joining me again for another fic. I love you all.

Chapter 1

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"Draco!" Hermione's eyes shot open, wide and wild in the darkness of her bedroom.

Her chest rose and fell heavily and her body was tensed against the mattress beneath her. She was out of breath despite lying still, or at least mostly still. The blanket of her bed was wrapped tightly around her, somehow twisted in the throws of her dream.

Her dream... it had changed. Where it had once been dark tiled halls and spinning doors it was now wide open grounds, a star-bright night sky overhead and wet grass underfoot. Trees loomed in the distance, silent and strong. She would run to them, pushing herself onwards, lungs burning and legs aching. She slowed as she made it into the clutches of the forest. Everywhere she turned looked the same; tall skinny trees, nettles strewn over the ground, downed branches in the distance.

Then she would see him.

Stepping out from behind one of the shadowed trees, trying to hide behind a cold metal mask, but she knew it was him. It had always been him. Only him.

But not anymore. Now she was alone and shivering in her childhood bedroom and he... he was gone. She untangled her legs from the sheets and pulled them up against her chest. The lights from the street permeated through the thin curtains around her window, lighting the room that was barely hers anymore.

Short white shelves lined the walls crammed with books. Children's books, educational books, novels, classics, history books, and spell books all carefully organized and perfectly straight. Hermione bit her lip and glanced at the door. Sometimes she woke up her parents, but tonight they seemed to have slept through her disturbance. Maybe because she only screamed his name once tonight.

Softly getting out of bed and walking on the balls of her feet, Hemrione crouched down in front of a shelf. She ran her fingers over the creased backs of the books there. Paperbacks. Books she had read years ago. Devoured more than read really; Hermione used to burn through the pages, eagerly drinking down the ink of each word.

She hadn't read a novel in years. Ever since the end of her fourth year, she had devoted all her readings to either school work or strictly research. She left no time to enjoy the stories. She had a purpose, a drive, a job. Hermione glanced at the small white desk pushed far back into the corner where a stack of newspapers lay. Copies of the Daily Prophet that she had scoured through for any hint or mention of... of him.

She could say it was research, keeping up with what was waiting for her in the magical world and it was. She read them for that reason too, but... it was his name that she searched the papers for first. Any mention of a sighting or... anything. But the only time he ever appeared was in her dreams.