A chilly gust of fierce August wind howled it's way through the warm, chocolate brown strands of hair, blowing them apart. Recklessly.
Her pale skin, shone in the waning light of the moon in the night sky. Fresh tears of trepidation glistened in the rounded corners of her eyes. Drunk upto and way above the brim of her pride, she couldn't even stand straight , on her own two feet, now.

Even at the age of 25, Hermione Granger was a mess.

She fumbled with the clasp of her burgundy clutch, before finally managing to take her cell out. Maybe, if she could give Harry a call...

Then she typed the number in , her fingers uncoordinated with the touch of the keypad on her mobile. She waited for the phone to be picked up. Maybe Ginny would.

It never was.

Tears prickled through her eyes as she slumped down on the cold pavement, her back leaning against a street lamp. Not a single soul was around to help her.

Once alone, always alone.

Hermione didn't want to say it. Hermione didn't want to admit it out loud that she was alone in this miserable world of hers. She simply didn't want to. But the truth of her thoughts lay deep inside the cracks and crevices of her heart. And she knew it.

The most appropriate thing to do at such a moment would be to wail like a baby and forget her existence. 
And so she did. Because it made sense. Maybe it was the vast amount of alcohol flowing wildly though her veins, gushing over her invisible wounds. Maybe it was because of the immense vulnerability she experienced as a woman, lying nearly unconscious on the street. Or maybe it was due to the fact that her fiancé cheated on her with a random model at Witch Weekly's. 

But she didn't feel good. Not one bit. So she covered her face in her face and broke down in the middle of a dark alley in the heart of London. 

The inky black sky gave her company, as if it reached down and patted her head. Like her Dad would.

Her Dad wouldn't care if she had no friends.
Her Mum wouldn't care if she failed an important mission as a Head Auror, specifically designated to her.
They wouldn't care if she couldn't manage to keep a boy in her clutches for long enough, even though he was her best friend since the beginning of it all.
They wouldn't care one bit.

Once alone, always alone.

And maybe Hermione didn't want to care anymore, as well. Maybe that's why, when a soft voice said, " Trust me this one time Granger", she allowed herself to relax in her stranger's arms, relishing in their unfamiliar familiarity.

Oh Merlin! This is hard work, but that makes me love it all the more. What did you think of this chapter? You really do need to get your shit together for this book, haha.