Unofficial Portkey Archive

AN: Thank you so much for the reviews! They make me...happy. Mmm hmm. Anyhoo, yes it's quite confusing at the moment because everyone's basically asking "Ahhh why is she Hope?!" and "Ahhh why did she leave?!". But yes, your questions should be answered with each coming chapter. I'm trying to update ASAP before school starts again on my side of the world. Hope some of your answers will be answered in Ch.2 and enjoy =) Oh right, and I'm having trouble changing the font size as it is quite small at the moment...ack!

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters belong to JKR, not I or anyone else (as saddening as it is).

Trying to be someone that you know you're not
It gets harder everyday
All the lonely days
There's no one left to love
You wish life would go away
--Harder Everyday, Ashlee Simpson


Right foot forward. Left foot forward. Right foot. Left foot. Right. Left. Right. Left. I could get use to my new ability of rapid speed walking. It made you look somewhat in a normal state even if your mind was a panicked blur. I felt like a chicken in high heels when I exited the building, vanilla envelope still clutched in shaking hands. There was just one blaring question in my mind, looming over all sensible thoughts within me.

Who knew?

Red light. I stopped at the corner, nervously looking over my shoulder. No funny looking people were creeping up to me in magenta robes or top hats. No familiar swishing sounds of robes-- nor was there a wooden stick being stuck in my face. I finally allowed myself to breathe. My senses slowly came back to me and I realized I had left poor Penelope to deal with Pig. A pang jolted me when the energetic fur ball entered my thoughts. After all these years...but then again, I knew I would not forget. I would never forget anything. And I didn't know if that was a curse or not.

Green light. I crossed the street, wondering why I wasn't hailing a cab. My mind knew the daily routine like the back of my hand so I slowly raised my arm to wave, but my feet decided that I should head inside the nearest cafe. You're already late for work , a little voice nagged impatiently at me but oddly, I chose to ignore the helpful little sound and perched myself on a stool in the corner of Oasis -- great place for drinks with harder to pronounce names than Hermione.

I rubbed my bare arms, feeling a chill run down my spine. A blotch of black on my shoulder reminded me that I was still wearing the T-shirt that Penny had used as scented tissue. Sighing, I finally willed my eyes to look at the utterly innocent envelope in my hands. Why was I so scared? Ha, that was a pointless question. Of course I was scared. For my information, there was no Hermione Granger alive on the face of earth. Seeing this name was like staring at a corpse long dead; rotting, fading, gone.

And yet seeing this name written down again...it seemed very much alive.

"Miss?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin. I was being insanely paranoid, that I knew, but who could blame me? The young waitress with a name tag that read Melissa looked just as startled as me, but regained her composure quickly and repeated, "What would you like to order?"

"Um, well, I'm still thinking," I lied and focused my attention back towards the envelope. The girl nodded rather sourly. She probably knew I was not going to be ordering anything anytime soon.

When she had left to wipe the counter tops (mind you they were already glistening clean), I found myself tearing the envelope open. Shakily, I unfolded the piece of parchment, my curiousity unbearable and yet my fright peeking with every second of delay. It was as if reading this letter would bring this Hermione Granger back to life again. As if someone by this name actually existed. This thought scared me to the bone.

I closed my eyes briefly and took a breath. Flashing my eyes open abruptly, a simple line glared back at me.

"I know. Please come back. I can help you.-- G.W."

I sank lower into my seat-- if that were possible with a stool. So this was what caused all my senses to run haywire just moments ago? A couple words that seemed so empty and meaningless yet gut-wrenching too? I felt frustrated with myself. And angry. Furious was a better way to put the emotions playing through my head.

"Please come back."

I laughed and ripped the letter in half. Come back my arse. Weren't you part of the little groupie that pushed me away? Weren't you one of them? Weren't you a believer that I was oh-so-evil and had to be killed on the spot if seen? Come back? Come back to what? My enemies? My death? My darkest miseries?

"I can help you."

To kill myself? To drown all over again? I wasn't going to make the same mistakes twice. I wasn't going to put the word trust into anything ever again. Trust. My brow knitted and I ripped the letter into tiny pieces. My head was pounding. You didn't know. You couldn't help me. And I would not come back if my life depended on it.

Even if I once thought of you as a sister, Ginny Weasley.

The familiar shape of the Dome came into view. I glanced at my wristwatch and inwardly cursed. My wonderful and understanding boss would most likely greet me with her most pleasant look (that could still make you shrivel up into a shaking ball of fear) for being two hours late. I entered the glass building, shaped appropriately in a dome-shape, via the automatic glass doors and looked fretfully at the receptionist's desk. The familiar face of Kristen stared back at me with sympathy. She leaned across her spotless marble desk and whispered, "She's in an OK mood."

I swallowed hard and headed off towards the elevators, but not before thanking Kristen for her little warning. Andrea Green was a woman who wanted her orders listened to and done with perfection. She didn't listen to excuses and thought all human beings were her clones; cold, emotionless and robotic. For our lovely Ms. Green to be in an "OK" mood probably meant that she had gotten her daily cup of decaf house blend from the nearest Starbucks (and that wasn't very far away). Of course, that meant she would be off our backs for an hour and only an hour.

And I was two hours late. Do the math.

Second floor. Third floor. Four...five...six...a resounding 'ding' marked my arrival on the seventh floor. The elevator doors slid open and I was met with the cool hazel eyes of Ms. Andrea Green. Usually warning bells should've gone off if Andrea Green was on your floor of the building and not in her office on the tenth floor. But I was already emotionally drained and my heart oddly remained calm at the sigh of pursed red lips and glaring eyes.

"Hope-h," she nearly spat out the 'p', "you're late."

I took a breath. "I know and I'm really--"

"Now I wouldn't want you to waste anymore time chit-chatting with me. My time is precious," she cut in briskly and tapped my desk with one long manicured nail. "I want these ready for me by tonight and no later than that." And with a few clicks of her heels, she had walked past me and into the elevators.

I let out a breath. That went better then expected. Normally her voice would have risen two octaves or so, which made it sound like you were listening to someone run their nails over the chalkboard repeatedly.

"You've got to thank Penelope for that," a voice interrupted. A very recognizable voice, belonging to Chrissa with-a-funky-last-name. She also worked on the seventh floor and was senior editor of the fashion department of Urban Fusion. Yes, that was the all glam and hip magazine I worked for. If you wanted to know the latest way to make something as simple as pancakes, check out Urban Fusion's recipe corner. Or maybe there's this really new way to tie your shoelace-- the in way. You'd probably find that somewhere in U.F. too.

"Penny? What does she have to do with this?" I asked with confusion while taking a seat at my desk.

Chrissa stared at me as if it were the most obvious question I could ask. "Well, she did call into the office a while ago to say that you were going to be late. Dentist appointment or something?"

I silently thanked Penny in my mind and made a mental note to myself to bring her a late-night snack. "Yes...yes, no cavities!" I plastered a fake grin on my face.

"...I see," said Chrissa and she silently went back to work again.

I sighed and stared at my own pile of articles to edit. Currently I was picking up an article on scented cell phones. I almost rolled my eyes but decided that I should be use to the brainless articles that passed through my fingers from the tech writers. Yes, I was editor of the technology section of U.F. and I handled it alone because no one seemed eager to spend the day reading about "the tiniest mobile phone ever" that was just so utterly convenient because you could hardly get it lost anywhere. Oh right, and don't forget the ever-so new digital camera with even more functions to confuse those already non-high-tech illiterate people out there.

Like me.

I preferred things the old fashioned way. A nice camera with film and a phone that was the size of my hand was just fine with me.

"You really should do something with your hair," Chrissa piped up and held up a picture of a blonde with a short bob-cut. I stared and glanced down at my own stick straight blonde mass and shrugged.

"I like my hair like this."

"Ah, but it's much too simple. Almost bland, not that I'm hinting anything," she quickly added and glanced down at the picture once more. "It really would look good on you. It'd frame your petite face--"

"Mmm hmm..."

"Oh no, I think this would do lovely on you too!" she tossed aside a couple more pictures and held up one of a model with really bushy blonde hair. I knew I was being paranoid but I had a sudden thought that maybe Chrissa here was not just a simple fashion magazine editor. For all I knew, she could be...could be Ginny with the effects of polyjuice potion! That made me squint at Chrissa, seeing if I could catch the slightest glimpse of that familiar fiery red hair.

"Do I have something in my hair?" Chrissa asked abruptly. "If I don't, I was talking about your hairdo, not mine."

"No! No...I was just noticing how you don't have any split-ends whatsoever!" I nearly snorted at my brainless words but Chrissa ate them right up and seemed rather proud of her brunette locks. "Besides, I've had enough of bushy hair," I added under my breath and thankfully Chrissa had shifted her attention to Michael, one of Andrea's secretaries. To put it simply, Chrissa had her eye set on Michael ever since the day he walked into the office two months after Chrissa herself.

"Lunch...lunch...lunch..."

I looked up from the cell phone article again to stare at Chrissa, worrying for her sanity. "Did you not eat breakfast? You could run down and grab something. I'll cover for you if Andrea comes down."

"What? Oh, no, no it's alright," Chrissa muttered, her cheeks turning a slight rose colour. "Hey look at the time! Lunch break!" She announced this rather loudly, causing most of the seventh floor workers to look up from their current position of bent backs and necks. Chrissa smiled sheepishly before hopping up from her seat and literally skipping towards Michael's desk.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, turning my attention back to work. Everyday, Chrissa would perk up when lunch rolled by since she had made sure that Michael and her had this little ritual of eating lunch together at the nearby coffeehouse. And there they go, I thought as they headed off to the elevators and disappeared seconds later.

I groaned inwardly, leaning back on my chair to stare blankly at the dull yellow ceiling. It was going to be a long day of reading over articles and going up and down the floors to make sure everyone had submitted everything they needed to. I didn't hate this job, I really didn't, but when I had too much time to think, my mind would wander. Wander to the endless possibilities...

That I once had.

Never in my life would I have seen myself sitting in a cooped up office in New York, far, far, far away from where I belonged. Oceans, towns, and cities that separated me from that place I once called home...and I suddenly felt alone again. And I hated that feeling. I could stand on the busiest street in broad daylight and the breeze would still blow by me as if I had nothing. Nothing to protect me from the harsh winds that blew and the cold that ate at you. I had nothing. Nothing at all.

Nothing at all in this world worth living for.

So why was I still living?

10:30 PM. I had dropped by the grocery store to pick up some extra fudge chocolate ice cream just for Penny to pamper her taste buds with. I really did owe her one. Or two. One for calling in at the Dome for me and two for putting up with Pig. Pig! The sudden image of an apartment room completely and utterly destroyed flashed into my mind. I quickened my pace down the hallway and towards room 415.

Hearing no cries for help or disastrous crashing, I assumed that Penny had everything somewhat under control. With one hand holding onto the groceries and another digging into my handbag for my keys, I nearly dropped everything when the door flung open in my face, a sudden blast of wind making my eyes widen in surprise. Penny stood there, sweat on her brow and a couple scratches on her bare arms. I gasped and quickly entered our home, dropping the ice cream by a nearby table.

"Penny! Did Pig do that to you?"

"Pig? What pig?" Penny asked in confusion and I slapped myself mentally for my slipup. "And no, I didn't get these scratches from a pig, nor did I have the time to go spend the day with pigs. In fact, I spent the whole day trying to catch that thing," she pointed a shaking finger at the still energetic owl zooming from corner to corner, nearly crashing into the television but swerving towards the left just in time to hit the fireplace.

I looked at her apologetically. "I'm so sorry I had to leave you here with Pi...that owl! Here, I'll handle everything and you can go pig out on ice cream okay?"

"Ice cream?" Her eyes brightened at the word and she immediately looked behind me at the discarded grocery bag. "Oooh, thanks Hope!"

"No, thank you ," I sighed while kicking off my worn runners. "Andrea would have killed me if I had shown up late without some sort of a warning. She hates people showing up on her unexpectedly or not showing up without giving her a forewarning."

"Well, yeah, I kind of sensed that you would be late," said Penelope as she grabbed the bag and hopped into the kitchen. I heard the clang of cutlery and the rustling of the plastic bag before she appeared again with a spoon in her mouth as she opened the carton of ice cream.

I jumped onto the couch, watching as Pig perched himself on the bookcase which blew up a cloud of dust as he landed. I had to marvel at the fact that I had allowed the bookcase to have gotten so dusty, but when you were trying to make a living in New York you just didn't have that much time for recreational reading. I pushed that thought out the side of my head and jumped towards the bookcase, but of course Pig must have known what I was trying to do and immediately took off again.

"It's a good workout I have to say," Penny commented. "I must've lost five pounds from chasing that thing."

"Well I just want it out of here," I puffed and watched as Pig hovered towards my bedroom door. I groaned and quickly ran towards my room, keeping a careful eye on Pig as he flew in through the slightly open door. I followed and gently closed the door behind me before turning to face the darn owl one on one.

"Okay, Pig come down--"

I stopped in mid-sentence when someone, a young woman, looked up from her sitting position on the edge of my bed. I felt my heart skip a beat and something in my gut jump into my throat. It was getting harder and harder to breathe and I had to grab onto the doorknob to steady myself.

The girl must have thought I was going to make a run for it as she quickly jumped up from her seat and shook her head. "I'm not here to steal anything or do anything," she quickly started in a whisper.

My hand slipped from the doorknob with my already sweaty fingers. I tried to compose myself, staring at the young woman in front of me, my mind screaming to run but my feet refusing to listen. I wanted to believe that I didn't know this person. That a complete and utter stranger had just decided to sit in my room with an owl whirring above our heads. But sometimes, just wanting to believe didn't work.

"I'm here to look for somebody actually," she continued quietly. "I know this is kind of weird, showing up in your room just like this and I know you must be itching to go call the...the pole-c's or whatever you call them, but I beg you to just give me a few minutes to explain myself."

My eyes darted fearfully towards my full-length mirror at the side of my room. I felt a bit relieved that my glasses were still intact and my eyes were still a clear blue and that everything was still in place, but nothing could stop the hammering in my chest nor the sudden coldness I was feeling.

"I'm looking for an old friend," she whispered and paused, taking something out of her pocket which looked very much like...a wand. She muttered something under her breath before pocketing her wand once more. She smiled slightly and continued in a normal voice, "like I was saying, my old friend supposedly lives here. At least, according to the tracking device on Pig here."

At the sound of his name, Pig landed gently on the girl's shoulder and nipped at her ear affectionately. She patted him on the head before gently holding up his left wing to unattach a tiny silver object. I wanted to hit my forehead at how careless I had been, but I didn't want to act like a complete lunatic. At least not yet.

The girl fingered the object carefully before tucking it away into her pocket again. She looked me in the eye, her voice soothing and gentle, "I'm looking for a Hermione Granger."

It was definitely getting hard to breathe in here. Pig made some sort of a clucking noise and I could almost feel all the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. The girl before me slowly tucked a strand of her flaming red hair behind her ear before continuing in that gentle calm voice of hers.

"And if I'm not wrong...you're very much the person I'm looking for."



AN: Yes, I know, where's the H/Hr?? Haha, well it'll come when the story keeps on rolling...and when Harry actually gets his bum into the story =P I can't really say when that'll happen but it'll be A-SAP!