Unofficial Portkey Archive

Title: With Love (2/6)

Author: Seiryuu

Author e-mail: byoon@ucsd.edu

Category: Romance

Keywords: Post-Hogwarts, Harry, Hermione, H/H, Harry/Hermione

Rating: PG-13.

Spoilers: Mild references to events in PoA, and possibly the other books

Summary: Harry sends Hermione her owl, without an answer. Why won't he respond to Hermione? Just what is he thinking?This, unlike my earlier works, will be a multi-chapter extravaganza.

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. Allusions to several popular actors and events are used without permission and are owned by none. The Wheel of Time series is owned by Robert Jordan. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note: I thank Vlada for helping me with this idea. I also thank Michelle T. for her enthusiasm in reading my stories. I thank Hecuba for discussing with me how Hermione should react. Review, please.

Chapter 2- From Harry to Hermione: January 11, 2012

January 9, 2012

Hermione Granger was no fool. She knew her double life as a Muggle doctor and a witch doctor could not sustain itself for too long. Yes, there were many who successfully managed to live with that sort of life (and Harry Potter flickered through her mind, again. He was starting to annoy her, although it was only the fault of her subconscious), but she was on call nearly twenty-four hours a day. If you counted both hospital hours together, sometimes she was on call forty-eight hours a day! It was hard for her to be ready to answer to both hospitals, and although one was a specialized hospital working to find cancer, they both piled a lot of work on her.

Hermione, however, was not one to give up. It was hard for her to admit to anyone, much less herself, that anything was out of her reach. It was the principle many parents drilled into their children: "If you put your mind to it, you can do it!" Of course, the maxim was utter nonsense, but that had never stopped the over-achievers from taking on too much work, only to end up crashing and burning. Hermione refused to believe she was one of those to fall apart.

However, the evidence was against her conviction: when she was not working at the Muggle hospital (the Royal Marsden Hospital, which focused on trying to cure cancer), she was at the London Wizarding Hospital. A well-educated surgeon (who was also a very dedicated oncologist) was very much in demand in both worlds. Sometimes, her shifts for the two overlapped, and Hermione was forced to take drastic measures to fulfill the needs of her vocations.

It was hardly a surprise to her neighbors when Hermione stepped out of her car on that Saturday afternoon, looking bedraggled and tired. Still dressed in hospital scrubs, she hurried up the steps leading to her house, talking on her cell phone. She fumbled with her handbag one-handed with practiced ease, trying to find her keys without stopping to look in her bag.

"Look, Nelson, injected RDU90 has shown no signs of curing liver cancer, but it hasn't spread so far. I don't think it's too big of a stretch to say that if we combine that with another type of treatment-say the Nevlon-Bott scanner-it might actually start the curing process for those damaged cells. I admit, it's a bit unorthodox for experimental drugs, but I think it's worth a shot." She paused as she brought out the keys, and unlocked her door. She frowned as she opened the door.

"No! I can't emphasize it enough! Don't use RDU90 with other injections! That's just a mistake waiting to happen. The response it showed when mixed with Diggle's formula shows that it would violently reject such a mixture. The risk of that is too great. No, not really. There's no precedent of it doing the same thing with machines." She waited for the response. "Just… trust me, Nelson. I have a gut feeling about this thing." She sighed, and placed her hand on her forehead. "I… I'm sorry. I'm just a bit stressed about the whole thing. We're so close to finding it, but…"

She walked into her kitchen, placing her bag on the counter. She nodded, though he couldn't see her. "Yes, we have reservations at the Biagio Chez Victor on Monday. It's for 7 PM. I love you too. I'll see you later," and with that she hung up the phone and put it in her handbag.

She looked around her kitchen, feeling a bit aggravated at having to argue with her fiancé. She walked over to her refrigerator, and looked in it for something to eat. Of course, there were always some of her favorites in the fridge; Hermione was too meticulous to have forgotten to buy the groceries. She pulled a bottle of pumpkin juice out and took a long swig. She smiled. It was a bit risky to have the pumpkin bottles in her fridge (she sometimes entertained Muggle guests), but the hassle of having an enchanted fridge separate than the one she used was too much for her to follow the laws. It was a very minor infraction, and was a law broken by everyone.

She glanced at her Muggle wristwatch, checking the time. It was five minutes to nine; in five minutes, she would be free to go back to her bedroom and change out of the hospital scrubs she had been wearing for thirteen hours. She picked up the remote control, left on the kitchen counter for exactly this type of situation, and walked into her living room.

She flipped on her television, which had been modified to receive the Wizard stations as well as the Muggle stations. (Of course, it was not modified to run on magic instead of electricity like a proper wizard television; that would have drawn questions from many of her guests.) All television stations are the same, Muggle or Wizard, Hermione mused. They all show stupid commercials. She paused in her surfing to watch one that showed a dancing peanut. She checked the station- it was an American Muggle station- and sat down on her couch to watch.

The dancing peanut turned into a dancing frog, and the dancing frog turned into a dancing dog. A slogan, garishly decorated in neon green and yellow, flashed, "They all jump for ice cream" on the top of the screen. A deep voice came from the screen. "These are all satisfied consumers of the Amazing Scamand Ice Cream!" The words changed to fit the name. The voice continued, "Are you willing to try it?"

Thankfully, the screen faded into black, and the scheduled show began to run once more. Hermione shook her head; it was another of those "Hollywood" shows, and she had no time to indulge in gossip. She raised her remote to change the channel, when something the announcer said made her pause.

"And today, on Access Hollywood, we have a special that many of our fans will enjoy. We have exclusive footage of the filming of the new romantic comedy, Still the One, and interviews with Harry Potter and Leslie Kingsley, the stars of the movie. This is an Access Hollywood exclusive; no other show has been allowed on the set!"

The scene changed from the broadcaster to an outdoors movie set; people walked by the camera, awkwardly holding big pieces of equipment. A male voice gave a voice-over as the camera moved forward, looking at extras laughing and the director sitting in his chair.

"I think that Still The One is the best work I have ever directed. Harry Potter and Leslie Kingsley have a chemistry that is just glowing, and they are both pleasures to work with. They follow orders well, and rarely have any problems with any of the actors." The director, Hermione thought. Who the hell is he? She didn't recognize his face, or his name. It was odd that such a high-profile movie was given to an unknown.

The screen changed to an interview room, with the director and the interviewer facing each other. The interviewer asked the same question that Hermione had had.

"How do you feel about such a high-profile project given to you? This is only your second work; your first one, while critically acclaimed, was not a blockbuster. Do you feel that the studio is taking an unnecessary risk with you at its helm?"

The director showed no indication of having heard his insult. "No, not at all, Pat. Though It Was Written did not set any records, people still enjoyed watching it. Many people say that it was the type of thriller that has not been seen in many years. In fact, many say it's filled a hole Hollywood has had for over fifty years."

The scene changed to a montage of Harry and Leslie acting and talking together. It finally ended at a scene where Harry and Leslie were laughing together at some mistake someone else had made. They made jests, gesturing wildly with hands and arms to emphasize what they said.

Even now, just seeing a picture of Harry made a surge of emotion go through Hermione's body. She felt happy that Harry was happy; she felt angry at what had happened, so long ago; she felt anxious that he would not answer her letter, in which she had so foolishly let her heart bare to him; she felt jealous that Leslie Kingsley might have taken what had been Hermione's place in his heart.

The scene changed once again to Harry and Leslie sitting together in front of Pat O'Brien. Harry spoke first, and Hermione smiled. Today, ten years since Hermione had seen him in real life, he sounded exactly the same as her memories.

"It's been amazing, working on this movie. Leslie's just, an amazing sweetheart." Hermione felt another twinge in her heart as Harry turned to his costar and smiled. Leslie laughed back, and added,

"And Harry's also a great, great guy. I might have made a move to him, if I weren't so madly in love with David."

Pat O'Brien leaned forward. "So you admit there's some truth to the rumor that sparks have flown between you two on-set?"

Harry laughed out loud, and threw his hands up in a resigned manner. Leslie smiled, and said, "I would be lying if I said that I felt nothingtowards him in the two months that we've been working together. Harry's an amazing guy; I think he's the type of guy who has fans of all ages following his every move. I was shocked, and I still am shocked, that he doesn't have a steady girlfriend."

Pat smiled, and turned towards Harry, smiling conspiratorially. "Speaking of such, I heard of an incident that occurred just this Tuesday at the hotel you are residing in currently. I believe a reporter asked you," and he glanced at a piece of paper in his lap, "'Is it true that you're still in love with your old sweetheart from college?'"

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. The camera switched to a close-up of Harry's face, and the shock in his face, as was the grimace that passed through his expression were captured on the screen. He glanced at his sides, uncomfortable, and muttered softly (though it was caught easily by the camera), "Well, that came out quickly enough."

He shifted in his seat, looking behind him, then straight at the camera. He spoke clearly, into the camera, as if directing the words straight at Hermione, sitting a thousand miles from where he was currently.

"Pat, I can't deny that my old sweetheart was an amazing woman to be with. She made my world, and made it one very easy to live in. I cherish all the memories I shared with her, and I must admit that I've never fully recovered from our break-up. But-" and Harry shifted his gaze from the camera, and stared at the off-screen Pat. "But, we haven't spoken in over ten years. It's hard to love someone you haven't seen in so long."

Leslie laughed, and the camera switched to her. She smiled at Harry as he turned to look at her. "Don't believe a word of what he tells you, Pat. Harry's just too shy to admit he still has a picture of that girl in his bedroom."

Hermione was shocked, the second time in the same minute. He still has a picture…? Her thoughts shifted to the promise they had made to each other on the graduation day from Hogwarts.

"Harry! Sit still for a minute and let Ron take a picture of us!" Hermione said, laughing, as Harry kissed her on her nose. He took her in his arms, stepping behind her, and kissed her cheek as Ron took the picture.

"Thanks, Ron," she said, stepping out of Harry's grasp. She took the camera from Ron's hands, and turned to face her boyfriend once more. "Well," Hermione said, lifting an eyebrow at him, "That's another picture for the archives."

"No," Harry murmured, and hugged Hermione once more. He whispered softly in her ear, "I'll always keep that picture in a special place of my heart."

Hermione returned to the present to see Harry blushing furiously; his whole face, from his forehead to his cheeks, was reddening with an intensity as to match Ron's hair color. "I-it's a graduation picture! We're both in it!"

"In a rather compromising position," Leslie added, smirking. Harry groaned.

"I knew you were going to say that, Kei! Jeez!" He mock-pushed her to the side, and she slapped him on his arm. Pat laughed.

"Well, thank you both for agreeing to do this interview. Leslie, you're going back to your house in London after the film is finished, right?" She nodded. "And Harry, you're going directly to the set of your new movie by Peter Jackson, no?"

Harry nodded. He was still a bit red, but he looked as if he had gained control of his emotions. "Might as well do some blatant promotion while I have the TV space. It's called The Wheel of Time: The Eye of the World, and the first of an eleven-part series. It was originally a book series, and I believe Peter's planning to make all eleven, and the first one's set to come out maybe in 2013 or 2014. I'm glad to be working with Peter again; he's a very close friend of mine."

With that, the show switched to the credits, as Pat O'Brien talked of what was to come the next day.

Hermione switched off the television, still a bit shocked that she had been mentioned. I wonder if he meant what he said in that interview, she wondered. His words reverberated in her mind.

"It's hard to love someone you haven't seen in so long."

She hadn't lied when she had written her letter to him; she didn't want Harry as her boyfriend. She had strong feelings toward her fiancé, Nelson Spencer. However, a vague feeling of disappointment ran through her mind whenever she contemplated his words. The feeling was inexplicable, but it proved impossible to dismiss.

She went up her stairs to her bedroom, still thinking of those few words that had garnered such a strong reaction from her mind. Checking her watch once more absent-mindedly - 9:01 - she opened the bedroom door and went straight to her closet. Unbuttoning her shirt, Hermione faced the closet, looking for the shirt she slept in. She was so unsettled by Harry's interview that she almost missed Thalia, her owl, tapping on the bedroom window.

She noticed eventually, and she turned quickly. "Thalia!" She said excitedly, and nearly fell over on her bed in her excitement to reach the window. She cursed briefly as she stumbled, but she reached the window and flung it open.

Thalia flew directly to the top of the closet, where a perch waited her. She perched quickly on it, and stopped moving almost immediately.

That's okay, Hermione thought, Thalia's tired from the journey. For heaven's sake, she's crossed the Atlantic twice! But Hermione had waited four days for Harry's response, and she was hardly in a mood to wait for his answer. She reached up to Thalia on her tiptoes.

"Thalia, honey, give me the response Harry gave you. Please? I'll give you your favorite treat in a minute, just please give me his letter."

Thalia raised her left leg in response, and Hermione's heart gave a jump as she looked at it. No note was attached, and Harry's response was evident.

He doesn't want to speak to me again, Hermione thought, stunned. After what he said to that interviewer on that show, he still doesn't want to talk to me. She stumbled back, and sat down on her bed dazed.

At first, she felt nothing but unmitigated grief and a sense of loss. Of course, she had not spoken to Harry in such a long time that such a response was expected; but even after their break-up, she had known that their friendship was too strong to be broken so easily.

Look where that thought led you, Hermione thought bitterly. I let out my heart to Harry, and he just decides to ignore me. Well, forget him. I can live without him in my life.

She frowned at the reflection the mirror on the closet door gave her. "I can do it!" Hermione shouted at herself. "Damn you! Just… damn you and your bloody self-righteousness! I can live my life without you! I can do just fine, damn you!"

She rose quickly, and half-ran to her bathroom. Soon, the sound of the water falling from the showerhead drowned out the sound of her sobs.

January 11, 2012

It was fortunate that she had received Harry's response on a weekend. Had she gone to her work in her state, it would have been a disaster. She was hardly herself throughout the two days; she tried to pretend everything was all right, but everything was a bit skewed. She answered phone calls as usual, but she was unable to remember what she had told Nelson to do with the experimental serums the night before. Her friend had called; ten minutes later, she had forgotten what her friend had said, to say nothing of what she had said. She tried to read the medical journal related to liver cancer, but after three hours, she had only read the words "It is evident" over and over again.

But by Monday, she was able to go to work. She went with relish, trying to prove to Harry in her mind that she was able to continue with her work. Her co-workers noticed that something was wrong, and tried to keep the workload out of her desk. Hermione didn't even notice.

She left work early that day, going home to get ready for her dinner with Nelson, her fiancé. She parked her car inside her garage, and stepped out to her mailbox quickly. She had to get into an evening gown picked out a week in advance, and she was in anxious to show him how she looked.

She grabbed the mail she had gotten, and walked towards her front door in a hurry. She glanced at the letters briefly. Publishing Clearing's House. You Might Have Won Twenty Thousand Pounds. You Are Already Cleared For Your Own Credit Card. She nearly threw the whole stack away in disgust, and would have, had it not been for Elvis.

The last letter in the stack had an Elvis for a stamp; he was moving and thrusting his hips at her, with that famous grin on his face. She could hear his voice, softly crooning the words to his song, "Can't Help Falling In Love With You".

Magical mail- I wonder why they didn't just owl? Hermione thought idly, looking at the writing on the middle of the envelope. It was written in an odd sort of handwriting, as if the writer had tried very hard to control his messy handwriting (and had barely succeeded). She was able to make out:

Hermione Granger
Just Outside the Front Door
56 Elm Park Road
Greater London, UK

Someone who had wanted very much for the letter to get into her hands had written it, no doubt. In the second line, Hermione recognized a very complicated spell that tracked her current position all the time, and made the letter follow her no matter where she went. The letter had no return address on it; the stamp on it showed that it had been sent on that same day.

Giving in to her curiosity, despite running a bit late, Hermione opened the letter where she stood. She let the envelope drop to the floor, and opened the cream-colored paper in her hands. The handwriting on the letter itself was much more familiar to her eyes; it was Harry's.

What the hell is this? She wondered angrily, but she read on.

January 11, 2012
Dear Hermione,

Yes, this is Harry James Potter. I know you were probably angry that I didn't send a letter by Thalia to you-("Hmph!" Hermione said out loud, "probably?")-but you must understand what I had been feeling at the time. You had ignored me for ten years. We left each other on less-than-polite terms. I felt so angry towards you in the first years, and that sort of buffer is hard to get over. I let Thalia go back to you without a response after I gave her some treats and a well-deserved rest in my suite.

But I was able to think a bit more clearly about our situation after I had done so. 'What was I doing?' I asked myself only an hour after I let Thalia go. 'Hermione wants to make amends and you say no?' It tortured me through the day, and I was hardly able to work. I did an interview later that day, too, and I don't think I carried myself very well. He asked about you; I was so surprised I nearly fell off the chair.

I can't believe it took me this long to realize that I was being an ignorant arse- will you forgive me for this slight lapse in being a gentleman? I was off, furiously writing this letter to you, immediately after I remembered the good times we had together. And we damn well had some good times together, no? Just remember Washington D.C., right? (Hermione blushed. Washington D.C. was seared into her mind.)

No matter. I really hope you've read this far; your temper can get quite fierce when it is aroused, and I'm sure I did. Because here's the big crazy revelation: I can't live my life without you.

Sure, I might seem like I'm doing all right when you look at my career. I'll not flatter myself into thinking that you search the magazines to read articles about me or to see the pictures of me at public outings. I look perfectly normal, right? Wrong. Truth is, I've been searching for something to anchor myself to reality ever since I was exiled from Eden. I've been working so hard, moving from set to set, to try to avoid thinking about the emptiness in the bed next to me every night.

I'm not so sure I succeeded, because you're still on my mind all the time. I'll be doing something mundane, like cooking breakfast, and I'll think 'Hermione would have loved this', or 'Wouldn't she be chewing me out right now!' You've spent ten years without talking to Harry Potter; I've been talking to Hermione Granger every day.

You say that you don't want to date. Fair enough. I love you so much, but I'm not so greedy as to dump the gift of our friendship back because I have some strange notions of trying to have the whole cake. You'll never hear a peep out of me. I'll be the perfect vision of the Harry you knew the first six years attending Hogwarts-I'll be the loyal friend you used to have.

You tell me that you're engaged to a Muggle that doesn't have any clue what you really are. Can you deal with that? The fact that you're a witch is more than half of what you are. You are Hermione Granger only because of the experiences you had, being a witch. I mean, can you picture a Hermione that didn't know that nobody could Apparate into or out of Hogwarts?

My advice? Tell him immediately. Throw this letter to the table and pick up the telephone and tell him now! Because unless you tell him, everything you tell him is a lie. That's something a man can hardly stand. I'm sure you know what I mean through experiences neither of us is eager to recollect. I don't know if he'll take it well; he might explode and turn away from you. But that's a risk you have to take. If you ask me, he'd be a fool to do so, but some Muggles are too set in their ways to accept any major changes. Your fiancé might be one of them.

I really hope you reply to this, Herms, and I hope you take my advice to heart. Know that I will always remain your devoted friend and confidant, no matter where else life takes us.

With love,
Harry Potter

Hermione leaned against her front porch. Even though he had not seen her in ten years, Harry had captured exactly the problem that she had with so few words. He still knew her enough to figure out so quickly the problems she had. He was, to quote him, 'the perfect vision of the Harry she knew the first six years attending Hogwarts'. It was something Hermione could rely on and use as support in this fluctuating world.

A deep voice came from behind her, and she jumped. "Hermione, what's wrong? Why are you still standing in front of your door? You went home nearly an hour ago!"

She relaxed a bit and turned to face her fiancé. Nelson Spencer was a tall, handsome man with slightly graying hair. He was kind and treated Hermione with the utmost respect. He never did anything to hurt her, intentionally or otherwise, and he even made love slowly, respectfully. Sometimes a bit too slowly, she thought ruefully, before she chased those thoughts out of her head. It was a serious moment for her, and it wouldn't do to ruin it with improper thoughts.

She looked at Nelson with an appreciative gaze. He was sharply dressed in a tuxedo, and had a bouquet of white roses in his hand. He saw she noticed the flowers, and he thrust them at her, smiling. "For you," he murmured, and stepped forward to give her a kiss.

Hermione stopped him with a gesture. "I'm sorry that I'm not ready yet," she said sadly. "I think my plans for the evening have changed significantly."

Nelson frowned. "What's wrong, sweetheart? Did the hospital called you for an urgent case? When I left, there didn't seem to be any problems."

She shook her head. "No, nothing like that. Will you please come inside?" She unlocked her door and pushed it open for Nelson. He walked past her as she gathered the envelope and the junk mail scattered on the floor.

She followed Nelson to her kitchen, where he was sitting on a chair calmly. He had placed the flowers on the kitchen counter, and was staring at her questioningly. That was one of the reasons why she had loved him; nothing fazed him. She stood leaning on the counter, facing him.

He broke the silence first. "Well, Hermione?" He smiled at her, but she didn't smile back.

She hadn't been this nervous since the day that Harry asked her out for the first time… Don't think of him, idiot! She berated herself. Think of the here and the now! Don't be nervous! Despite her convictions, she stuttered a bit when starting to talk.

"N-n-Nelson, we've been together for a long time now, right?" He smiled.

"Six months today," he answered. Hermione nodded.

"Right. I have to tell you, I've fallen in love with you since then and have cherished every single moment we spend together. You bring me joy and I feel happy when we're together. But there's something about me that you need to know desperately, something that's been gnawing at me for the last six months."

He waited attentively. She stared at his face for a moment, twisting her hands, before continuing.

"Nelson, I am a witch."

That drew no reaction. Hermione frowned and continued. "I've known I was a witch since I was eleven. I went to Hogwarts, a magical school in Scotland that all magical children attend. In addition to my work at Royal Marsden, I also work at the London Wizarding Hospital."

He sat there silently. Why can't he say something? She wondered, a bit annoyed. This is important!

He finally spoke. "You have time to work at both hospitals? How is that so? I'm assuming the magical hospital keeps the same types of hours that we do." There was no inflection in his voice.

Hermione frowned, thrown off track. "Err… I manage," she said. She walked forward towards Nelson. She looked into his eyes, trying to read what he was thinking. "Honey? Don't you have anything to say?" She said.

He was still rational. "Can you show me a spell you can cast, right now?"

Hermione nodded, and pulled out a wand from her purse (Nelson drew a sharp breath, but didn't say anything). She said clearly, "Accio Pumpkin Juice!" The refrigerator flung open, and a bottle of pumpkin juice flew into her had. She handed it to Nelson, still gazing at him concerned. "It's a wizard drink. It tastes really good; try it! I mean, it's not really enchanted or anything, but it's just a drink that all wizards and witches drink. There's nothing in it that can be considered odd; well, except the Pumpkin juice part of it…"

You're babbling, she told herself forcibly, trying to make herself calm down. Why isn't he saying something? Why isn't he saying anything? Please, just say something! Despite her best attempts to understand his position, she was starting to panic.

"Nelson?" She asked softly. He was still in the same position in the chair, alternately staring at her face and at the bottle of pumpkin juice in his hand. He said nothing, his expression still stoic. Hermione jumped when he finally spoke.

"I want to meet some of these… people. I want to see how they're like."

These people. Those words reverberated around in Hermione's mind. Not wizards or witches. These… people, as if we were freaks. Trying to not let her fears get the best of her, she tried to think rationally.

Where can I bring him that isn't too magical, to scare him? I need to show him warm people, to show him that we're just like Muggles. A place with care... love… Any public place is out. No Diagon Alley. No Cannons versus Hornets. The hospital where I work? No, too much mayhem to properly show him the care we have for each other, and anyway some of the illnesses might scare him. I need a family setting… oh!

Hermione tried to smile at him reassuringly. "We can go to the Burrow and meet my very close friends, the Weasleys!"

"And how will we get there?" Nelson's calmly stated question stopped her. She quickly went through all the possible ways, and the only possible way was by Floo Powder, but that was so disorienting to anyone on his first try. No other choice, she told herself firmly. She reached for her can of Floo Powder and started to lead Nelson to the fireplace. She explained as they walked along.

"Umm… we have a type of powder, that we throw into a fire and we say the area we want to go to. We're going to go to 'the Burrow', so you have to throw this powder into the fireplace and say "The Burrow" as clearly as you can, okay?" He nodded, as if it was a routine thing for him to walk into a fireplace.

"Ready?" Hermione's voice trembled a bit, but she berated herself for letting it do so. She smiled uncertainly at Nelson. "I'll set it up, so you can go through. I'll follow you through. Just don't be scared, and remember to say it clearly."

She stepped forward, and pointed her wand at the dormant fireplace. "Incendio!" It lit instantly, as if it had been burning for hours beforehand. She gave a quick, reassuring glance at Nelson, standing behind her. "It's a bit disorienting, so watch out." She turned back, throwing the Floo Powder at the fireplace. The fire grew even larger, and turned an emerald green.

Nelson stepped forward past Hermione. He paused for a moment, staring at the magical fire; then, as if he had pulled together his resolve, he stepped in, letting the fires surround him. Hermione heard his voice, calm and as cold as a cucumber, say, "The Borrow!" loudly and clearly.

The green fire roared up for an instant, growing even brighter than before; then it decreased, losing its green gleam and becoming a normal fire. Hermione stared at it for a moment, wondering What have I done?

After a moment, she pulled herself together and Apparated to the Burrow. She only hoped that Ginny and Molly were home, and in a hospitable mood.

When Hermione appeared on the bottom of the stairs in the Burrow, Molly was already standing in front of Nelson in the living room, talking and smiling. He was talking back, though not smiling. Hermione drew a deep breath, and stepped forward trying to place a smile on her face.

A hand grabbed her shoulder, however, and stopped her. Hermione was turned around, and she stared into the face of Ginny Weasley, her close friend. She had been a year behind Hermione when attending Hogwarts, but she had become her closest female friend through the years. Tall, pretty, skinny, gifted with bright intelligent eyes and long flaming hair, Ginny was the epitome of the Western version of the word 'beautiful'. Right then, she had a perplexed expression on her face.

"Hermione?" She asked, smiling uncertainly. "I thought you weren't coming until Saturday. And isn't that your-" She stopped. Understanding showed in her eyes. "It's your Muggle fiancé?"

"Yes," Hermione said quietly. Ginny nodded, and opened her mouth to speak.

Hermione never got to hear what Ginny had to say. Molly, having heard voices in the other room, came towards them, leading Nelson by the hand.

"Hermione? Are you there?" Molly called out, smiling. Hermione stepped forward, Ginny only a step behind. Hermione smiled at Molly.

"Hello, Mrs. Weasley." Molly frowned, and shook a finger at Hermione.

"Hermione! You're 32 years old. You have a right to call me Molly."

Hermione smiled again, and walked closer to Molly. They hugged, and Molly patted her back as if she knew what turmoil Hermione was going through at the moment.

They separated, and Hermione nodded to Nelson, not knowing what to do. She held her hands together, and bobbed once, pushing herself up with her toes and relaxing.

"Umm," Hermione said, and she gestured to Ginny. "This is one of my best friends, Virginia Weasley. She goes by Ginny, and she works at a newspaper as a journalist. Ginny, this is Nelson, my fiancé. He's a Muggle, but I'm showing him to the magical world. And I'm sure you've already met Molly. They're like a second family to me, and I hope you like them too."

Nelson stepped forward and shook Ginny's hand, not quite enough to be friendly, but enough to be considered polite. "Hello," he said coolly, and Ginny returned the greeting, just as coldly. Hermione saw immediately that they didn't like each other.

They stood silently for a moment, waiting for someone else to start talking. When no one did, Molly starting walking towards the kitchen. "Come!" She called over her shoulder. "I'll bake some cookies, and we can sit around and talk!" Molly took out her wand to bring the ingredients out onto the counter.

"No!" Nelson said loudly. Everyone stopped and looked at him. "No," he continued in a calmer voice. "I'm not going to spend any more time in this house. Hermione, take me back to my house and leave me be. I don't want to speak to you ever again."

Hermione couldn't talk for a moment, and only stared at Nelson's eyes, agape. Nelson spoke again without waiting for her to answer. His voice was eerily calm, and that fact drilled his words into Hermione's mind even more.

"How could you keep this sort of secret from me? I spent so much time with you, and I thought you were just a very nice girl. But you're some sort of… disillusioned, devil-worshiping freak? I don't know how you did those tricks you showed me, but you must have sold your soul to the devil to do it! You don't have proper clocks, and you deal with witchcraft! Your friends, as you call them, wear clothes that aren't normal-are they necessary in your demonic ceremonie-"

A bright flash of light interrupted him, and Nelson stopped talking immediately. His eyes glazed, and his mouth remained open.

Arthur Weasley stepped forward from behind Hermione, where he had just Apparated in from his work. He patted Hermione on the shoulder, who had tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry," Arthur said, his voice deep with regret. "Some Muggles just don't understand the type of people we are. They can't cope with the fact that there's been magic all along."

Hermione nodded, not really hearing the words. She looked down at her fingers, and the only ornament she had worn on them. The engagement ring.

It had a gold band, and a huge diamond set with small crystals lining it. Hermione had gasped when she had first seen it, and it had unbalanced her hand the first few days that she had worn it. But since the fourth, when he had proposed, she hadn't taken it off. Until now.

She stepped forward on unsteady legs, supported by Ginny. She stood on her tip-toes for a moment, placing her engagement ring in his coat pocket. "Goodbye," she whispered to him, and with tears falling down her cheeks, she kissed his cheek for the last time. She fell back, unable to support herself anymore. Ginny caught her as she fell, and helped her to the couch, hugging her and whispering reassuring things to her. Hermione lost it, crying fully, unable to keep herself together any longer.

Arthur tapped his wand on Nelson's forehead and whispered a few words, and a Memory Charm was set in Nelson's mind. He stepped towards Molly. "He'll only remember that he went to Hermione's house and broke up with her," he said softly. "He won't remember any of the-the other stuff." He paused uncertainly. "You-you'll take care of Hermione?"

Molly gave her husband a stern look. "We'll take it from here, you take care of the fool over there." She gestured to Nelson, who still stood dazed in front of the stairs. She frowned. "Ginny and I'll make sure Hermione's okay. Women business, you understand."

Arthur gave a small smile. "There's the woman I love. Make sure Hermione's really okay? She's like another daughter to me."

Molly gave him an 'Are-you-daft' look. "Like I said, we'll take care of it. Now, go fix the Muggle!" She hurried to the refrigerator, taking out milk and starting to make cookies.

Arthur smiled at the sight of his motherly wife, who was taking care of someone who was like a daughter to him; he turned then, said "Right," softly to himself, and took Nelson by the shoulder. He led him outside towards his enchanted car, ready to drive Nelson to London.

He met Ron, his son, on the front porch. He had a wide grin on his face, and his hair was as tousled as Harry's usually was. "Dad! We won tonight, and man was it an exciting game!" His grin faded at Arthur's look.

"Not now," he said, gesturing at Nelson (who was still walking comatose). "And don't go to the living room. I don't want you to disturb Hermione, is that understood?"

Ron flushed. "I'm not fourteen anymore, Arthur, no need to admonish me like one." His expression changed as Arthur's words hit in. "Hermione's in there? What's wrong? What's going on?"

Arthur ignored him and walked to the car, still leading Nelson by a firm grip on his shoulder. Ron stood flabbergasted just outside the front door, and stared as his father drove away.

Hermione was unaware of her surroundings. Only the reality of what had just happened stayed with her, and she cried as hard as she could; Nelson had been like an anchor to her, helping her survive her horrendous work-hours. She was only vaguely aware of Ginny's soothing words and the plate of cookies and milk that was placed in front of her.

When she came to her senses once more, she was lying down on a bed that she recognized as being one of the Weasleys' guest rooms. Ginny still sat by her side, stroking her hair slowly.

"What time is it?" She asked softly. Ginny answered in the same tone.

"It's eleven, Herms." She struggled to smile at the nickname Ginny had just called her.

"Herms," she repeated, trying to keep a smile on her face. "The only other person to call me that was Harry, and he's…" Her eyes blurred with tears once again, and Ginny was up, holding Hermione in her arms.

"Don't worry, everything will turn out fine," Ginny whispered, rocking her back and forth. "It'll all turn out okay. You'll begin to talk to Harry again, and your friendship will be back again, as strong as it was before. I'm sure he'll be here the minute he finds out. He misses you like crazy, you know."

Hermione stopped sniffling gradually. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and softly said "Thanks, Ginny."

Ginny held her at arms length for a moment, to look into her eyes. Ginny's eyes were strong, and without any pity. "Hey, that's what friends are for, right?" She hugged Hermione again. She remained for most of the night, but when she left Hermione lay on her bed, those words haunting her.

Hey, that's what friends are for, right? Yes, she told herself. Friends are supposed to be there for you through the rough times.

But where's Harry now? Will he be here to help me now? Should I tell him how my engagement fell through? What can I really say to him?

That made her thoughts go to Nelson again, and she started crying inaudibly once again. She didn't fall asleep for a long time.