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Sweet Home London by Amynoelle
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Sweet Home London

Amynoelle

Author's note: I know this might be confusing, but timeline wise, Hermione and Harry were married for another three years after the events of the last chapter. Something traumatic happened that will be alluded to briefly here that led to their breakup. You will find out in later chapters what it was. This chapter lets you know what Hermione has been up to since the end of their marriage.

Thank you to all who have reviewed. A special thanks to Heaven for all the help and encouragement! And contrary to popular belief, I really don't have it in for Harry & Hermione. I love them just as much as you guys do (really!).

Chapter Four
Time

Time, you left me standing there
Like a tree growing all alone
The wind just stripped me bare
Stripped me bare
Time, the past has come and gone, gone
The future's far away

("Time" by Hootie & the Blowfish)

Five Years Later

New York City, New York

Hermione stood in front of her closet and surveyed the clothes before her in frustration. She honestly had no idea what to wear and she was running out of time. Andrew would be here in less than 30 minutes and she still had to blow dry her hair and put on her makeup and pick out an outfit. It certainly would have helped if he would have told her what they would be doing or where they would be going, but he'd been tightlipped about it. The only thing he'd divulged to her was that she needed to look nice.

Did he mean "nice-casual" or did he mean "nice-formal" or "nice semi-formal"? She had a feeling it was something big as he'd been looking quite pleased with himself. Though, honestly Hermione had no idea what he had in store.

She usually wasn't running so late, but at the last minute she'd had to fit in two parent-teacher conferences at the end of the school day and both had lasted much longer than she'd intended or planned.

When she'd arrived in New York two years ago, she'd enrolled at NYU taking childhood education courses. She'd obtained her certification soon after and for the past year had taught fifth grade at one of the public schools in Brooklyn. She'd always seen herself doing something in the education field. Though her job could be quite demanding, it had also been very rewarding. She enjoyed teaching her students and felt that she was making a difference in their lives. That was what meant most to her---that she was making a difference.

Her roommate, Abby Scanlon, was perched on Hermione's bed eating a pint of ice cream and staring at her roommate in amusement.

"You're not making a life-altering decision, Hermione," Abby said, as she took another bite of her Cherry Garcia Ben & Jerry's ice cream. "Just pick an outfit and get dressed. The clock is ticking, you know."

Hermione turned to her roommate and scowled. "I know. I know. I just don't know what to wear. Andrew has this annoying habit of being vague sometimes. I mean, what if I choose to wear jeans and a blouse and he shows up in a tuxedo?"

Abby looked thoughtfully at her roommate. "Well, if I were you, I'd wear your little black dress. My mom always says you can never go wrong with an LBD."

"Do you think?" Hermione asked, taking the dress in question out and holding it against her terry cloth robe.

Abby nodded. "You better get a move on. Loverboy will be here soon."

"Why do you insist on calling him that?" Hermione said, taking the dress with her and heading back to the bathroom.

"Because I know it gets on your nerves," Abby said, picking up a magazine from Hermione's bedside table and thumbing through it as she finished her ice cream.

"You don't like him, do you?" Hermione called to her.

Abby frowned. "It's not that I don't like him, per se. It's just that at times he seems a little too good to be true. But, I guess it's to be expected. What with him being the son of the governor and all, I guess that slick image comes naturally to him. He has political blood in his veins."

Hermione stuck her head out of the bathroom and frowned at Abby.

"You just haven't gotten the chance to get to know him," she said. "He's really sweet and funny when you get to know him. His father is always pushing him to campaign all the time. If you ask me, he would like to see Andrew in the White House someday."

"And you could be First Lady?" Abby teased. "Oh my Lord! I'm sharing an apartment with the future First Lady of the United States."

"Oh for heaven's sake!" Hermione said, laughing. "Will you quit being so dramatic! He did ask if I wanted to go with him to Australia for Christmas."

"Australia, huh?" Abby asked, impressed. "But, I have a feeling that isn't all he's going to ask you."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, as she began applying her makeup.

Abby stood up and walked over to the bathroom and grinned in amusement as she watched Hermione quickly and expertly put on her eye makeup, blush and lipstick.

"I'm talking about 'The Big Question', Miss Granger. You know him getting down on his knees, asking for your hand in marriage. Blah, blah, blah."

"Spoken like a true cynic," Hermione said, with a laugh. "It's too early for that anyway. And quit being so dramatic, Abby. Could you please get my pantyhose and my slip from the dresser? I forgot to bring them in here with me."

Abby sighed and walked over to the dresser. She placed her now empty ice cream container on the top of the dresser and called back to Hermione, "Which drawer are they in?"

Hermione called back. "Top drawer, please."

Abby opened the drawer and rooted around for the slip and pantyhose, but as she did so, she caught sight of a picture frame. Curiosity got the better of her as she picked the frame up and saw a very handsome man with piercing green eyes staring back at her. He looked to be in his early twenties.

Now that Abby thought about it, Hermione had never really been all that forthcoming with details about her past, especially about past relationships. She always seemed to change the subject rather expertly whenever Abby mentioned old boyfriends or romance problems. On numerous occasions, Abby had asked her and each time, she'd come up empty-handed. She knew her roommate was hiding something, but she didn't want to press her to talk about something she obviously didn't want to share. But, as Abby stared at the handsome man in the photograph, she knew that she had to ask Hermione who this man was and why his photograph was tucked away in her dresser drawer.

"Did you find them?" Hermione asked impatiently, coming out of the bathroom and staring at Abby.

"No," she said, shaking her head. She turned to face Hermione properly and held the frame up for her to see. "But I did find something else much more interesting. Do you mind telling me who Mr. Green Eyes is here?"

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks as she looked at the picture of Harry. She thanked her lucky stars it wasn't a magical photo and that Harry hadn't been moving around inside the photograph. No one in America knew who and what Hermione really was. She'd planned on keeping it that way.

When she'd left England two years ago, she'd closed that chapter on her life. She'd vowed to put the painful memories behind her and start her life anew. A life of her own. A life where she wasn't thought of as Harry's wife or Harry's childhood friend. It was very difficult; to say the least, to leave everything she'd known and everyone she'd loved behind. But when…well, she didn't like to think about the main reason she'd left. It was much too heartbreaking to remember. But, no matter what she did or how she tried to forget it, it was always there and it had left a hole in Hermione that she didn't know could ever be filled.

"It's no one," Hermione said quickly, taking the frame from her roommate and tucking it back inside the drawer. She took out her slip and pantyhose and headed back to the bathroom. She closed the door firmly behind her.

"No one?" Abby repeated, unconvinced. "You should have seen the look on your face when you saw no one's picture. Your eyes kind of sparkled there for a minute. Is Mr. Green Eyes the reason you left England?"

There was no response. Obviously, Abby had hit a nerve. She knew she ought to let this go, but for some reason, she couldn't.

"Hermione?"

There was still more silence from the bathroom. After a couple of seconds, Abby heard the hair dryer click on. Defeated, Abby went back over to the drawer and pulled out the photo again.

"Whoever you are, Mr. Green Eyes," Abby said, looking at the photo, "You most definitely aren't 'no one' to Hermione."

*******

Hermione brushed Abby 's questions off as best she could. Luckily, she'd been saved by the bell…the doorbell as it were. But, it wasn't Andrew who greeted her, but the limo driver. The driver politely explained that Andrew was running late as well and asked for the car service to pick her up and bring her to the destination.

Andrew Keegan was the only son of Joseph Andrew Keegan, New York's second term governor. He was 30 years old and graduated from Harvard Law School. Already one of the top young legal minds in the country, Andrew worked for one of the most prestigious law firms in the state. His specialty was civil law and he'd quickly made a name for himself taking on the tobacco industry and winning millions of dollars for his clients.

He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. He stood at just over 6'2 and had short brown hair. He had an athletic build and Hermione couldn't remember a time when he didn't look absolutely put together. He was also one of the sweetest and funniest men she'd ever met in her life. After what had happened to her, she needed someone like him in her life. He knew all the right things to say and do and he loved her.

She hadn't been looking to fall in love when she'd met Andrew. In fact, she'd pretty much settled on staying single and alone for the rest of her life in the wake of what had happened in London. She'd met him at the New York City Public Library of all places. She'd go there every weekend and get lost in the stacks and stacks of books. She'd been carrying a heavy stack of books to the checkout counter when she'd bumped into one Andrew Keegen who had politely helped her pick up the books.

She could still remember how adorably apologetic he'd been. To make up for his clumsiness, he offered to take her out for coffee. Her first response had been to politely turn him down, but he'd persisted and she'd agreed. To her surprise, they sat in the coffeehouse for nearly two hours talking and talking. He'd asked her out and again to her surprise she'd said yes. Now nearly a year into their courtship, things were progressing quite nicely. She didn't feel for him as strongly as she had for Harry, but that was to be expected. What she and Harry had was a once in a lifetime sort of love. Hermione didn't think a person could be so lucky to find that twice in a lifetime.

Again, she tried to not think about him so much. He was in her past now. Her life back then was in her past now. She hadn't seen him in two years. It was strange, she couldn't help but think that someone who had been such a huge part of her life, who defined who she was and how she saw herself was not an everyday presence in her life.

When she started thinking like this, she reminded herself that you can never go back. Once you decide to put the past behind you, you had to stick to it. Thinking about what could have been and what had been was only going to make her sad.

She hoped that he was doing okay. What had happened had affected him just as much as it had her. Part of the problem, she knew now, was how neither of them confided in the other about how much it had affected them.

She'd met with a New York City attorney shortly after arriving in New York City. The divorce papers were drawn up within weeks and they'd been sent to London four times. Each time the papers were sent back, unsigned. This infuriated her to no end. For all intents and purposes, their marriage was over. All that he had to do was sign the papers. Why was he being so difficult?

In the past two years, she hadn't spoken to anyone from her old life. This included her parents, Ron, Lavender, and Parvati. She couldn't give her parents the satisfaction of knowing that they were right all along.

"Miss Granger?" a voice called to her, breaking her out of her reverie.

She looked up and saw the driver turned around in his seat, staring at her.

"We're here," he said.

Hermione nodded and looked out the window as the driver got out of the car to open the door for her. As he did so, she noticed that they were in a back alley of some sorts.

"Where are we?" Hermione asked, a little uneasy.

"Mr. Keegan asked us not to say anything," the driver said. "He asked that I just escort you inside."

Hermione looked around the alley uncertainly as the driver led her through a set of double doors and then down a dark corridor. To her relief, she caught sight of Andrew standing at the end of the hall.

He looked quite handsome standing against the wall, beaming at her. She couldn't help grinning back at him.

"So have you decided yet?" he asked her when she finally reached him. She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

"Decided about what?"

"Australia," he said, as he took her hand and led her down another long corridor.

"Australia?" Hermione asked him, suspiciously. "That's four months away, Andrew. You want me to decide on that now?"

They walked through another set of double doors and into a dark room.

"I was thinking 300 to 400 guests," he said, as he stopped walking and put his arm around her.

"For Christmas?" she asked him, in disbelief.

"Not for Christmas," he asked.

"Andrew?" Hermione asked, "Are you on some sort of medication? What's going on? Where are we?"


Hermione blinked in surprise as all around her lights turned on. She looked around the room in shock to find that she was standing in the middle of Tiffany & Co. All around them, associates stood at jewelry cases, beaming at her and looking at her expectantly. She felt her hands beginning to tremble as she looked over at Andrew who moved to stand in front of her. He took her trembling hand in his and got down on one knee.

"Oh my God," Hermione whispered.

"Hermione Jane Granger," he said, smiling up at her. "Will you do me the incredible honor of marrying me?"

"Oh my God," Hermione repeated. It was all that she really knew to say. "Are you sure? I mean, if you're not, we could just go back out to the car. It's not even been a year, Andrew."

"Shhhh," Andrew said, getting to his feet. He took both her hands in his and looked deep into her eyes. "You know that I never, ever do anything rash, and that I never ask questions that I don't already know the answers to, but at the risk of being rejected again. I'm going to ask you one more time."

He got back down on one knee and looked up at her. "Hermione, will you marry me?"

"Yes," she said, smiling down at him. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

He got to his feet quickly and swooped her up in his arms, twirling her around as the sales associates all beamed back at the happy couple.

When he put her down, he pointed at the numerous displays of rings. "Pick one."

****

Thirty minutes later, she and Andrew were in the back of the limo on the way to a fundraiser at the governor's mansion. He'd explained that he hadn't told her about that part of the evening because he knew she'd never really liked fancy parties like this. It wasn't her scene, she always told him, but he wanted to show off his fiancée. When he'd told her this, she'd teased him about being so cocky and assured that she would say yes.

"I can't believe you did all of that," she said, looking down at the gold engagement band on her finger. It was truly an exquisite ring.

He leaned in and kissed her softly. "I'd do anything for you, Mione."

She grimaced a little at the nickname he'd given her. She'd never liked that nickname and anyone who'd tried to use it in her presence she'd always let them know that she didn't care for it at all. But, Andrew seemed to be stuck on it, and she figured she'd allow him to call her that. She'd just have to start calling him "Drew" or "Andy" which she knew he also disliked.

At that moment, Andrew's mobile phone rang and he answered it after giving his fiancée a quick kiss on the cheek and a quick apology for the interruption.

As she looked out the window, she couldn't help but remember the last time she'd been proposed to.

(Flashback)

They'd been outside for nearly 20 minutes and Harry hadn't said anything. They'd sat at the picnic table in the backyard. Hermione had told him all about her disastrous conversation with her parents, but he'd only contributed a "uh-huh" and a "yeah" when prompted. His mind was no doubt elsewhere. And if she wasn't mistaken, he was quite nervous about something. Every few seconds, he looked over at her as if he was about to say something, but he would stop short before saying what he so obviously wanted to say.

"Harry?" she asked him, as he paced in front of her for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"Hmmm?" he asked, distractedly.

"What are you on about?" she asked him, concerned.

He stood still and looked at her.

She put a hand to her mouth. "Oh! It's something bad, isn't it? What is it? Haven't we had enough bad news for a lifetime! Please tell me it's not anything bad!"

He stepped toward her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It's not bad," he said reassuringly. "At least, I don't think it is. I'm kind of hoping that you won't either."

She looked at him, her eyebrows raised. "Okay. What is it?"

"I've thought about this for a long time," he said, running a hand nervously through his hair. "I've even practiced what I'd say to you in front of the mirror. Crazy, I know!"

She smiled. She knew all too well about practicing speeches in front of a mirror.

"I just wanted everything to be perfect and I wanted to say all the right things," he said. "And then I figured what my problem was. You can think about something all you want to, but you aren't really going to know what you'd do or say until that moment comes and you have to do it."

He took her hands in his and she smiled warmly at him, willing him to go on.

"Just say it," she said, stroking his hand with her thumb. "You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

He nodded. With a deep breath and a smile, he looked into her eyes and he knew what he wanted to say. And he knew that this was the right time to say it.

"We've been through so much together," he began. "You've been by my side through everything---good and bad. You've been the one constant in my life. When I've felt lost or like the whole world was falling apart, I could look to you for comfort and you'd always be there. I don't know what I did to deserve it, but I'm grateful to whatever brought us together."

Tears shone in her eyes as he spoke.

"And I know we're young and I know people will tell us we're crazy," he said, with a slight laugh. "But, if you'll have me, Hermione Jane Granger…" his voice trailed off and he let go of her hands. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. Hermione felt her hands shaking as he got down on one knee. He opened up the box and she saw the most stunning sterling silver diamond engagement ring.

"If you'll have me," he repeated, looking up at her. "I want to marry you. Will you marry me?"

She didn't know what to say. She was stunned, shocked, amazed, and touched all at the same time.

"What do you say?" he prompted, smiling up at her hopefully. "Yes, no, get lost? What will it be?"

She gave a laugh as she smiled back at him, through her tears.

"You want to marry me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"No," he said. "Professor McGonagall! Of course, you!"

She chuckled.

"Well?" he asked her.

"This is a bit sudden, Harry," she said thoughtfully. "We're only 17."

"I'll be 18 in July and so will you in September," he said.

She grinned.

He got to his feet and dusted the dirt from his trousers.

"You don't have to answer now," he said, a touch of disappointment evident in his voice. "Take all the time you need to decide. I don't want to pressure you. This is a big step."

She nodded.

"We'd better, um, get back inside," he said calmly. This wasn't how he'd expected it to go. Maybe Ron was right, he should have waited.

Hermione was shaking her head at him.

"What?" he asked her, confused.

"Harry!" she said, getting off the picnic table and walking over to him.


"I don't need time to think about it," she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't?"

She shook her head.

"I'll marry you," she said, her eyes twinkling at him.

"You will?"

Again, she nodded. "Unless you've changed your mind?"

This time, he shook his head vehemently. "Not a chance."

He wrapped her up in his arms and twirled her around, and she laughed with delight.

When he finally put her down, she wrapped her arms around him and they kissed, sort of putting a seal on the deal. When he broke the kiss, he pulled the ring from the box and put it on Hermione's trembling finger.

"That's just as it should be," Harry said, giving her a kiss.

"It's perfect," Hermione agreed. "Absolutely perfect."

As she sat in the backseat of the limousine, she couldn't help but remember how young and hopeful they'd both been then. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but in actuality it had only been six years since he'd proposed to her on graduation night. She never would have dreamed that they'd ever be apart, but here they were, an ocean between them both literally and figuratively.

She looked over at Andrew who was hanging up from his phone call and who looked out the window and announced that they were finally here.

Hermione nodded.

"You ready for the paparazzi?" he asked her, half joking. Andrew was one of the most eligible bachelors in both the state and the country. The tabloid press as well as the mainstream press had speculated for months about who had finally caught the elusive bachelor's eye. So far they'd just reported on him dating a school teacher from Brooklyn. She didn't like the attention from the photographers and the reporters. Andrew was right. She liked spending her evenings at home, watching a movie or curled up with a good book. This wasn't the life she would have chosen for herself. But, Andrew being who he was and the bright future his father had planned for him, Hermione had a feeling she better get used to this sort of attention.

As they passed quickly through the parade of photographers, Hermione exhaled as they finally made it inside the comforts of the governors' mansion. The governor and his wife were greeting guests and looked up expectantly when they saw their only son walk in with Hermione.

Truth be told, Hermione wasn't really sure if she liked the governor. He'd never been anything but friendly to her, but he somehow reminded her a little of Cornelius Fudge, the old Minister of Magic. She knew it was silly to think that. She'd only been in his company a handful of times, but she honestly couldn't say that she felt immediately at ease around him. In fact, it was just the opposite. She sometimes felt as if she was in the middle of an interrogation whenever she was around him.

She was about to shake his hand in greeting when Elizabeth Keegan, Andrew's mother gasped audibly as she noticed the ring on Hermione's finger.

"Oh!" she said, taking Hermione's hand. "Are you engaged?"

Elizabeth didn't give Hermione a chance to respond before enveloping her in a big hug. Andrew laughed and joked, "I've decided to make an honest woman out of her, Mom."

"Andrew!" Hermione exclaimed, blushing.

"Get used to it, dear," Elizabeth joked. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you," Hermione said warmly.

She noticed that the governor had yet to crack a smile.

"Dad?" Andrew asked him.

"Congratulations, son," the governor said as warmly as he could muster. "Congratulations, Hermione."

Instead of a hug, the governor just shook her hand. Elizabeth gave her husband a stern look, but took Hermione and Andrew by the hands and led them into the banquet room.

Joseph Keegan was about to follow them when he stopped one of his advisors and pulled him off to the side of the room, out of earshot of his family.

"Yes, sir?" the advisor asked.


"Find out everything you can on a Hermione Jane Granger," Joseph said firmly.

"Everything?" the advisor asked.

"Everything," Joseph said. "Keep me posted."

The advisor nodded and Joseph walked into the banquet room and walked over to Andrew and Hermione, who were still chatting with Elizabeth.

"I would like to welcome you to our family, Hermione," he said coolly.

His tone was neither welcoming nor friendly, but neither Andrew nor Elizabeth picked up on it. They just beamed back at him. Hermione, on the other hand, felt as if one of the happiest evenings of her life was just the start of something that could end very badly indeed.

****
Sometime after 1 a.m., Hermione finally made it back to her apartment. Andrew had mentioned something about wanting her to come home with him, but she had begged off saying that Abby was upset about something and she wanted to check on her. He'd sulked a little, but said he'd understood and would call tomorrow to check on her.

The lights were off in the apartment and Hermione knew that Abby was asleep, but she had to tell her the news. She dropped her shawl and purse on the couch and walked quickly to Abby's room. She knocked lightly on the door and without waiting for an answer, opened the door and crept over to Abby's bed. She gently nudged her and Abby woke up with a start.

"Geez, Hermione!" Abby said sleepily. "I was in the middle of the best dream. It was me and Tom Cruise on an island…"

"Abby!" Hermione said impatiently, leaning over to turn Abby's bedside lamp on. "I'm in the middle of a crisis!"

"Okay," Abby said, rubbing her eyes. "What is it?"

She sat up in her bed and gasped when Hermione put her hand in front of her face.

"I told you he was going to ask you!" Abby said, examining the ring. "Wow!"

She listened excitedly as Hermione shared the details of the proposal and the fundraiser at the governor's mansion.

"So, what's the problem?" Abby asked her, confused. "Most girls would be beside themselves with excitement. You, however, look as if someone just told you that you were banned from the library."

Hermione looked down at Abby's comforter, unsure of how to say this.

"This has something to do with Mr. Green Eyes, doesn't it?" Abby pressed.

Hermione nodded. "Mr. Green Eyes has a name, Abby."

"And it would be…?"

"Harry," Hermione said softly. "Harry Potter."

"And who is he to you?"

Hermione looked up at Abby. "He's my husband."

Abby's jaw dropped. "You were married?"

Hermione shook her head. "I still am married."

"Oh, dear," Abby said. "You have got to tell me everything. Start from the beginning and leave no details out."

Hermione sighed as she began to tell Abby all the details of her life as one Hermione Jane Granger Potter. She left out the magical parts, of course, but by the end of the story, Abby was still staring at her in shock and amazement.

"What are you going to do?" Abby asked her.

"I have no bloody idea," Hermione said.

******************