Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Not Everything
Summary: It's been twelve years since the Golden Trio has graduated from Hogwarts. Eleven years since the finial battle and ten years since Hermione Granger has spoken to the people she once called friends. FW/ HG Fic.

Granger Residence
Kitchen Table

Staring blankly out into space, Hermione attempts to deliberate for the umpteenth time what her options were. Picking up the letter that was delivered earlier that morning by owl post, Hermione notices the once familiar black ink. This is what my parents probably felt like when they first received correspondence from someone in the magical community.

Running her fingers over the edge of the parchment unwanted memories resurface.

"Hey Mione," greets Ron holding up a letter. "I think someone has made Head Girl!"

"Ron!" shouts Hermione attempting to grab the letter from his hand. "Give it here!"

"No Ronnie," laughs Fred racing into the room. "Give it to me!"

Swallowing hard, Hermione scoffs at herself. As if anyone from Hogwarts would be writing me now. The magical community pariah. Putting the letter down on the table, Hermione closes her eyes. Tears for frustration and pain well up in Hermione's eyes.

"Mione," gasps Ginny gripping her hands painfully. "Let him go. Just let Fred go."

Scoffing at her, Hermione pries her hands out of Ginny's. "What are you talking about? Are you telling me to let my fiancée Fred go? Go where?"

"Bloody hell, Granger," snaps Ginny angrily. "My mother's not about to let her son marry a mudblood like you." Gasping in shock, Hermione just stares at Ginny.

Gawking at Ginny, Hermione didn't see that Ginny was backing up. "Ginny!" shouts Hermione as she reaches for her.

Blinking her eyes open, Hermione wipes her checks with the palm of her hand. Enough of that! It's been over for about ten years now. Gently, Hermione touches her finger to the small cut around her right eye. Even if… maybe Ginny came clean. And he just can't face me. Shaking herself, Hermione snorts in self-disgust. Yeah right, Granger. Like she's going to come clean now after all these years. Turning her focus on the letter innocently laying on her table, Hermione shakes her head as to clear it.

Standing in her kitchen, Hermione hears Fred's footsteps long before she sees him. "Fred! I'm so glad that you're home. Do you know that your sister deliberately hurt herself? I'm telling you…." Feeling intense pain radiating from her arm, Hermione look up into Fred's furious gaze.

"My sister didn't do anything!" shouts Fred as he jerks her arm hurt. "You shoved her into the oncoming path…"

"I did no such thing," interrupts Hermione only to be shoved against the wall.

"How does it feel?" demands Fred as he storms away from her into their bedroom.

Gathering her courage, Hermione steps away from the wall and head towards the bedroom. Opening the door, she instantly notices that Ron was in the room as well.

"Ron?" greets Hermione coming into the room. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping my brother leave you," states Ron calmly. He gathers several things into his arms. "Don't!" snaps Ron angrily. "Attempt to tell me some fob story about how this is Ginny's fault. As far as I'm concerned I don't know you." With saying that he apparates away.

"Fred! You have to listen to me," pleads Hermione as she chases after him. "I did nothing to Ginny! I swear."

Holding up his hands, Hermione could see the muscles in his jaw. "She's my sister, Mione!" Looking down into Hermione's sorrowful face. "I can't think right now. Not here." Seconds later, Fred is gone with a loud crack.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Hermione shakes her head. "What the hell is she telling everyone?" Huffing Hermione stalks over to the closet and grabs her cloak.

Sun light pours in by the family room window, Hermione picks up her wand and flicks it. The spell she uses causes the curtains to close slowly so that the light doesn't wake the sleeping occupant on the couch.

The new mornings light reminds her of the fading light from that fateful day.

Stalking up the street, Hermione was just about to enter St. Mungo's see Ginny Weasley in person when she almost collided into Harry.

"Oh Harry," gasps Hermione putting a hand over her mouth. "I didn't see you."

"That was obvious," states Harry sarcastically. His green eyes burning with unsuppressed hatred. Hastily glancing behind her, Hermione doesn't see anyone else on the street.

"Is everything alright?" asks Hermione slightly concerned.

"What do you care?" demands Harry his green eyes blazing at her. Staring up at him uncompressible, Hermione fruitless gestures about herself.

"What?" stutters Hermione. "I care very much," states Hermione reaching to place a comforting hand on him only to have him jerk away. "What's going on Harry?"

"You… you're dead to me," hisses Harry angrily at her. Stepping back, Hermione regards Harry as a possible threat. Giving her one last finish look Harry turns and stalks away from her.

"That's it!" shouts Hermione at his retreating back. "Don't you want to even hear what I have to say?" She watches at Harry continues to walk away from her. Snapping out of whatever trance she was in, Hermione starts to walk towards the hospital only to have Harry swing around.

"You're not going in there," bluntly states Harry warding Hermione off.

"Oh yes I am," states Hermione getting angry herself. "I want to hear what lies Ginny is spreading about me."

"Back off Hermione!" shouts Harry violently pushing her away from the door. "You're not going anywhere near her."

"Why?" demands Hermione looking at Harry beaching eyes. "Why? Telling me what she's saying about me… and then tell me how you can believe her, after all the times I believed you."

Instead of answering her, Hermione finds herself at the end of Harry's wand. Seconds later she feels his spell hitting her chest rather hard. Hitting the ground, Hermione struggles to breath as the settings fade from her view.

"Mom?" a voice from the doorframe startles Hermione out of her memories. "Are you going to open it or just stare at it?"

Turning to look at her nine-year-old daughter, Hermione summons up a smile. Her beautiful daughter had strawberry blonde hair with loose curls. Her clear crystal blue eyes shone with intelligence that was beyond her age. She was exactly Hermione's height when she was that age.

"Elizabeth," answers Hermione while gesturing for her daughter to take a seat at the table. "Something's are not that easy."

"So who's it from?" asks Elizabeth peering at the letter closely.

"It's probably from someone I thought I knew," mutters Hermione picking up the letter once more. Taking one last look at it, Hermione throws it in the trash. "Something's are better left forgotten."

"Is it from my father?" whispers Elizabeth hopefully. "Maybe he heard that it's my birthday next week and he wants to come."

Sighing heavily, Hermione shakes her head. Picking up her wand, she summons the letter out of the trash. Taking a deep breath, Hermione breaks the seal. Opening the letter, she quickly reads it. Swallowing the lump that has formed in her throat, Hermione hands her daughter the letter.

"It's just a subscription re-newel for the Daily Prophet," mutters Elizabeth. "When did you ever get this magazine?"

"It's the wizards newspaper," corrects Hermione. "The last time I got it was three week before I left Britain." Hermione watches as disappointment seeps into her daughter's eyes. "I'm sorry, Eliza."

"No," dismisses Elizabeth. "It's been nine years going on ten years," she quietly states. "If he was going to recognize me as his child, he would have done so by now."

"Even if he never recognizes you, that however doesn't mean that you're not important," reassures Hermione giving her daughter's hand a gentle squeeze.

"I know Mom," states Elizabeth. "Let's eat breakfast before Uncle Bailey gets here."

"What would you like?" softly asks Hermione.

With shining eyes, Elizabeth bits her lower lip. "I would like a bagel with cream cheese, but I want to get it the special way."

Pinching her nose, Hermione smiles. "Did you do your homework?"

"Yes Mom," happily states Elizabeth. "I have completed my doctorial on the down fall of the modern man for Professor Gable in human resources. And I have finished reading your third year history of magic textbook!"

"Alright," mutters Hermione giving in. "Go to your room and get your wand."

"YES!" squeals Elizabeth jumping up from her chair. Hermione watches as her daughter races up the stairs towards her room. The door chimes, let Hermione know that Bailey has arrived.

Getting up from the table, Hermione steadily makes her way to the front door. Looking out throw the peek hole, she smiles when she recognizes Bailey's business suite. Can't be too careful. Undoing the three locks she has on her door, Hermione opens it for Bailey to walk in.

"Good morning," greets Bailey as he gives Hermione a kiss on her forehead. "How are you today?"

"Alright," mumbles Hermione earning a sharp look from Bailey.

"What happened?" gently asks Bailey as Hermione closes the door and locks up the door.

"The other world," mutters Hermione as Bailey slightly flinches. "Only this time, Elizabeth saw the letter."

"Was it anything important," questions Bailey as he takes off his over coat.

"Just a subscription re-newel," chirps Hermione.

"Uncle Bailey!" shouts Elizabeth rushing into his open arms. "Are you going to stay for breakfast?"

"Well champ," happily greets Bailey. "I'm going to do more then stay. I was planning on making my special chocolate chips pancakes."

"Chocolate chip pancakes!" squeals Elizabeth happily. "Mom, can he? Please?"

"Yes sure," laughs Hermione at her daughter antics. "Better him then me." She lags behind, watching Bailey and her daughter head into the kitchen. Lifting her hand to her face, Hermione once again touches the small scare near her right eye.

Until Later