Unofficial Portkey Archive

Title: All Roads Lead Back

Keywords: Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Draco and the rest of the gang. H/Hr, but a whole lot of ships thrown in. Post-HBP

Summary: Harry Potter always figured that once he had fulfilled his destiny he could finally have a happy, normal life. Unfortunately, for him he fell in love with his best friend...and everything went straight to hell. Set 7 years after the final battle.

Spoilers: All six books.

A/N: I am a Harmony shipper thru and thru. HBP almost sent me into a fit until I realized that I was throwing a tizzy over a book and told myself to get over it. Hee. I then decided to throw my hat in the fanfiction ring and see if I could come up with a realistic (at least to me) story of my favorite couple getting together that adheres to canon. This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic. I have the whole story already plotted out, but would appreciate it if you would tell me if writing the rest is worth it or not.

No one got the cookie for the last chapter. Either I am subtle or just vague as hell. LOL! Recall back to the conversation when Hermione is telling the three boys about the three Head Girls who had to step down. She names Boadicea as one who was in Hufflepuff House. She also mentions a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw, but not by name. However she tells them that the Ravenclaw left school to marry a muggle, that she was pregnant, and the time frame it happened in. The Ravenclaw was Harmonia Cadmus, Ptolemy Cadmus' daughter. Nothing too serious, but I thought for sure y'all would have caught that. My bad.

So funny story, I realized that I made some errors in my own timeline. Yay! In previous chapters, I mentioned that Hermione was 21 when she left, actually she would have only been 20 about to turn 21 in six months. My bad. I have corrected the mistake. I've also took care of some other inconsistencies, grammar flubs, spelling crap, formatting problems, and added some links for the previous chapters and will be reloading them within the next few days.

Thanks to murphsmine as always!

And extra big special MWAH to Padfoot! He stayed up with me until 5 in the morning one night while I tried to type this and virtually held my hand y'all! He's the bees knees!

I think this one actually has no warnings except that you might want to kill me at the end. And I also apologize in advance to any Toby Keith fans. You'll see why. :)

Monday, 05/30/05

As the woman re-entered the third floor bedroom, the ties of her short Kimono inspired dressing gown fastened tightly around her, she made her way to her trunk at the foot of the bed nearest the door and kneeled by it. She removed the ring of keys that were in her pocket and, shuffling the set until she reached the third one, placed the key in its appropriate lock. As she deftly opened the lid, she placed all of the toiletries that had accompanied her into the bathroom inside. She then proceeded to open the first and second locks and removed a plain black scanty set from the former and a lightweight, dove gray tracksuit from the latter. After closing the trunk and locking it tightly, she dropped the clothing and keys on the bed, and sauntered over to the make shift vanity table under the room's only mirror. Laid out on the table were enough cosmetics to service the back stage area at a beauty pageant. After pausing for a moment, trying to find a way to sit at the vanity, she got the trunk and pushed it before the mirror. The trunk had seen rougher treatment in its day. It had belonged to Alastor Moody before the wily, former Auror bestowed it upon her for her 20^th birthday. He had once told her that it was necessary in life sometimes to be able to pick up and disappear at a moments notice and for those times, the trunk would come in handy. Sometimes she wondered if Mad Eye's magical blue eye had looked deep in her soul and had seen what the future held for her. However, as soon as those ideas arose in her head she brushed them off. Alastor's opinion of Divination had been even lower then hers, she musingly remembered.

She had sniffed back large tears the night before after she heard of the dear old man's death. It had only been two months since Alastor 'Mad Eye' Moody's passing. Though he probably would have preferred to go out fighting whatever riff raff passed for dark lords these days, it seemed that whatever deities control such things felt he deserved an easy, peaceful end for such a hard, painful life. He died in his sleep.

As she sat down at the table, she began her daily beauty ritual. She usually liked her eyes smoky so she applied the crème nude colored eye shadow first before adding the dark brown one to both eyelids and to the crease with her fingers. She next lifted the matching brown eyeliner pencil to her face and traced it around her eyes, as well as the inner rim. Her stylist had shown her how to do all of this and told her it added extra glamour to her large eyes and made the color of them pop. She then proceeded to add two coats of mascara to her already long and curling lashes. After that she lightly dusted on some face powder, she usually only wore foundation at night or for special occasions. She added a crème blush to her cheeks before applying an apricot toned color to her lips. She blotted them once and then re-applied the lipstick. Finding her face satisfactory, she turned her attention to her hair.

Even after all of the straightening processes she had put it thru these last few years it still tended to curl under at the ends. Usually this fact annoyed her and she often spent most mornings trying to coax her hair into its sleek cut style with a flat iron. But since it was noon already, she decided to go low maintenance on it for the day. She simply parted the honey blonde hair in the middle and brushed it into a shining bob-like coiffure. She turned her head from side to side to look at it from both angles, and liking what she saw, lowered her brush.

She reached for one of her perfume atomizers and released the heady scent of iris, neroli, musk, and just a hint of patchouli at the base of her neck, behind her ears, her wrists, and along the hollow of her cleavage. She also added just a jot at the crook of each knee and her ankles for good measure. When she was a little girl, she had watched her mum go through this same routine. Being the inquisitive little swot that she was she asked her mother why she sprayed her ankles. It made no sense to the little girl that you would put perfume there where no one could possibly smell it. Helen Granger however informed her daughter that if you did this the smell would blossom up and envelop you all day long. And when others smelled that scent, they would always think of you. Like all lessons she would learn, the child always remembered this bit of instruction and filed it away with every other important information she gleaned through out the years.

In each pierced ear, she fastened a small yellow stud made of beryl and around her neck she placed a thin platinum chain. On the chain was a large, marquise cut stone almost the same shade as her earrings. As she sat back, hands resting on the table, she gave her handiwork a once over. In her youth, she had never been what one would call overly concerned about her appearance. She had gotten older though, and the tendency to scrutinize every extra line and worry over just when her first gray hair would appear had not been lost on her. But looking back at her reflection she had to admit that it was a nice face that gazed back at her. She just wished that her eyes didn't look so sad. But there's nothing that can be done for that now, she inwardly sighed as she fastened a white gold cocktail watch around her wrists.

"You look perfectly lovely dearie," said a warm, motherly voice to her.

A small smile graced her lips as she looked back at her reflection. "Thank you," she said sincerely to the mirror.

"You're welcome," it said back in answer. "But I would reconsider all the eye make-up dear. It does make you look like a tart."

Her smile only increased as she ruefully shook her head.

"Thanks mum," she replied.

As she took one final glance at herself she reckoned that she was ready to meet the day and whatever challenges...and more important...questions it had in store for her. It wasn't like she wasn't prepared for it all. She knew that coming back home, after all of these years away, wouldn't be exactly the easiest thing to do. Still, it was time to put away the ghosts of her past and try to live her life again. It was time to stop running. She just wished that she wasn't constantly on alert, waiting for all of the skeletons to come barreling out of the proverbial closet. But she was smart, she reminded herself. And when needed, she could summon up enough guile to get her through. So she could handle whatever anyone chose to dish out to her with aplomb. She had done it before with no problems. What could make now any different? She was ready for this! You can do this Hermione, she thought to herself as she met her own eyes in the glass. I can do this; her reflection seemed to answer back to her as she gave a proud lift of her chin.

And then she sighed.

"I deserve a bloody Academy Award."

From the moment she had gotten off the ship in Southampton, Hermione had felt that maybe her homecoming hadn't been such a bright idea. Up until that point everything else about the trip had gone well. She had been lucky enough to book passage on a cruise freighter that was pulling out of Limassol and returning to England in a matter of days. Of course she had to fork over an arm and a leg to get her, the truck, the trunk and her dog on the damned thing on such short notice, but the timing of it all was nothing short of fortuitous. It was also a smooth sail across the water. The only difficulty she had run into was a little sea sickness (that wasn't that uncommon for her) and a Turkish businessman on his way to Salisbury who kept remarking on what a lovely mistress she would make him. She hadn't kneed him too hard in the crotch when he tried to come into her stateroom for a farewell nightcap. All in all everything had gone quite swimmingly.

But as she finally got her vehicle off the boat and started on her way to St. Catchpole she couldn't help but notice the ominous gooseflesh that kept erupting all over her arms and legs. She cursed herself for the ninny she was being. Of course they were going to be happy to see her! She was their friend. They had to have missed her as much as she missed them, right? But as she drove the near four hour distance she slowly started to revert back to that small little girl cowering in a corner as a troll stamped its way to her. She was friendless and forgotten in the hullabaloo. Just knowing she was going to die while no one at her new school cared. There were still nights now, even after all these years, which Hermione still cried for that little girl. In fact, a number of times she had to pull over on the side of the road to collect herself as the tears fought to pour forth from her. Her eye make-up was supposedly tear proof, but she didn't want to take that chance. It would never do to show up looking like a drowned raccoon, she thought humorlessly. The twins would have a field day over that.

It was when she turned on to the two track lane that led to the Burrow that her panicked mind started screaming at her to turn back. They'll never know it was you, she kept hearing in her ears. They'll just think you're some muggle who lost their way. Turn back now! You still have time. Turn back! She could see a small group of people milling about the outside of the house, but from her distance she couldn't make out any faces. She definitely knew that they couldn't see her. A person could stand at her very window and not be able to see inside the spacious truck. Just like now. Hermione had turned her head for a second and was shocked to see the shape of someone flying near her window. She almost lost control of the truck, which sent Lizzie into excited yelps in the backseat. She turned her head to shush the dog and frantically hit the button that sent her window down.

Hermione thought she had never been happier to see a face in her life! She would be proven wrong only a few minutes later, but for the moment, as she looked at the handsome freckled face of her best friend she finally realized that she had in fact made the right decision. Her joy was only compounded more when she was holding in her arms the other boy, now man, who had been the most important focal point of her short life. Once she was in Harry's arms she knew she had really come home.

After that everything else became a blur. At some point Glinda came hurtling out of the house and as soon as Hermione saw her she reluctantly disentangled herself from Harry's grip and went running at her friend. The two woman threw themselves at each other and began a silly dance that included laughing, crying like lunatics, and jumping up and down as they held on to each other tight. The commotion they caused brought outside the other occupants of the house. All around her were shouts of her name as she felt the warm, welcoming caresses they gave her. After a while she was ushered into the Weasley kitchen. She felt as though she had been lifted up on their shoulders, her feet barely seemed to touch the ground. Before she knew what was what she was seated at the head of the table, empress like, while everyone else looked towards her as though she were their Northern star. Ron sat to the left of her, Harry to the right. Molly, after tearfully crying into her hair while simultaneously asking if she was hungry, was off near the stove pointing her wand here and there as she prepared a small feast. Arthur stood behind her chair trying his best to wipe away small, dignified tears from his eyes while patting the top of her head on and off affectionately.

Most of the other faces around her looked just as pleased and happy to have her back. All that was left at the house now were the immediate family members, the last bit of guests had finally departed. As she looked around the table at her family she felt the walls she had erected around her memories silently crumble. The twins sat to her right, Glinda in between them. They had already begun calling her Blondie and for the time being Hermione couldn't help but laugh along with them. The rest of the table was filled in by Charlie, Percy, Penelope, Bill, and a greatly pregnant Fleur. At the other end sat Ginny and Lavender. Hermione could almost feel the chill wafting from that direction, but at that point of time she just didn't give a damn! The happiness and joy in everyone else's voice as well as the laughter from the children near the hearth was enough to intoxicate her and blind her to anything else.

But underneath all of the laughs and the smiles and the frivolity there was a question that was practically being shouted at her. Why Hermione, why? She saw it in Arthur's loving and accepting smile. She saw it in Glinda's cocked eyebrow. And most importantly she saw it in Harry's burning, bright eyes. But no one chose to voice it to her. Not just yet. Not when she could make a turn any moment for the door and be gone again in a flash. So instead Ron chose to tactfully ask the next best thing.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Ron!"

"Ronald!"

Both Lavender and Molly furiously fixed their gazes on Ron from opposite ends of the kitchen.

Hermione and the rest of the room laughed at the pink color that bloomed behind the redhead's ears.

"It's quite alright Molly," Hermione offered as she snuck a glance at Harry from the corner of her eye. She was distressed to see that he had been staring at her and caught her at it. She quickly turned her attention towards Ron and smiled in his direction. "It's not as though I didn't assume to hear those very words from Ron's mouth. I just expected the question to be filled with a few more expletives," she teasingly quipped.

Hermione couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard an annoyed huff from the other end of the table.

"Shows you what you know," he joked back as he leaned back in his chair and winked roguishly at her. "I'm a family man now."

George cackled at the remark causing Ron to send him a death glare. He however ignored it and instead said, "Seriously though Blondie, where 'ya been?"

"Well," she began nervously looking at all of the expectant faces, "until about five...almost six hours ago I was getting off a boat from Cyprus."

Her answer seemed to astonish them more then she figured it should.

"Cyprus?" Harry furrowed his brow as he stared at her intently. "But we thought you were in America."

Hermione expertly hid her shock at his words. "Why would you lot think I was there?"

"Well, since your wand was still registered with the Ministry we could track its usage," answered Percy nonchalantly. "Of course we had no idea what you were doing seeing as how you had the good grace not to cast an Unforgivable."

Hermione was amazed. In her desperation to get out of Europe she had forgotten that little bit of information. During the Second War, after the failed assassination of Scrimgeour, the Ministry began keeping a registry of the wands of its employees just in case Voldemort or any of his Death Eaters managed to cast an Imperious on any other high ranking officials such as poor Gawain Robards. After the war the practice remained. It would seem that Scrimgeour trusted no one really. On Hermione's very first day as a new hire at the Ministry she had to submit her own vine wood to be logged in. At the time she had been so proud that she was actually going to be an employee for the British Ministry that she hadn't even thought how invasive such matters were. Apparently now, after all of these years, she had completely forgotten that her wand had still been registered. Hermione was usually good at crossing all of her T's and dotting all of her I's. The fact that she had let that slip by her was bothersome to say the least.

"Well you're right, I was in the States. In fact I've been there for these last four years. I've been living as a muggle. Well," she said nervously reconsidering her words, "I guess you would say I am pretty much a muggle now. I tossed my wand years ago."

This revelation left the whole family dumbfounded. Hermione Granger wandless? One of the most well known witches in the world, pretending to be a muggle?

"Hermione," Ron said, scratching his head in frustration, "just what the bloody hell has been going on with you?"

Hermione looked around the table and as she saw all of the curious, expectant faces looking back at her she straightened her spine, sat up straight and rested her hands firmly on the table.

"Maybe I should start from the beginning."

Hermione began to tell them what she had been doing these last five years or so. For the first year she had been gone she basically bummed around Europe, lodging at one hostel after another. It wasn't like she didn't have the money to live such a carefree life. When her parents died she was left the sole beneficiary of both of their wills. For years the Grangers had run a highly profitable dentistry practice in Belgravia whose clientele encompassed most of that area as well as Chelsea and Knightsbridge. Though not terribly rich by some standards, the Grangers were significantly well off. Daniel Granger's only other living relative at the time had been his mother, Bridget Rose. He knew that Bridget wouldn't need anything from him, she was completely self reliant and had lived on her farm for years without ever asking him for anything. He felt comfortable then leaving all he had to his only child. Helen Granger, on the other hand, had a sister named Holly. But the two siblings had been estranged for years before Helen's death and there was no chance of Holly Darlington contesting her sister's will.

Her parents' deaths as well as the selling of the family home on St. Luke's Mews left Hermione a nicely wealthy girl. When her beloved Nan died not too long after her parents, Hermione inherited from her as well. For the longest time Hermione had been unwilling to touch that money. She just let it sit in the bank and appreciate. She made a comfortable living working for the Ministry; she felt that she didn't need it. But once she left the wizarding world that muggle money came in handy. Though she wasn't a lavish spender by any means she did spend a good deal of it as she made her way across the continent "castle hunting". It was a passion and hobby she had shared with her father when they went on their many trips and vacations. France, Italy, Spain, Portugal, Switzerland, Germany, Denmark; she celebrated her 21^st birthday in front of Kronborg Castle in Helsingør.

But after spending all of that time bonding with the ghost of her dad she needed some way to feel close to her mother as well. That was when she decided to find her aunt Holly. From what her mother told her she and her sister had been close as children and young teenagers. Then when Holly was seventeen she met and fell in love with a Yank who was studying at Oxford. When the young man left England Holly ran away to be with him. The bond that used to be between the two sisters slowly fell into the large body of water that separated them. At first they tried to keep in contact. When the American who promised to love Holly forever left her she sent Helen a letter from Miami. When Holly's daughter was born she sent Helen a picture of the baby from Chicago. When the Darlington girls' widowed father died, Holly sent Helen a condolence card from Little Rock. And when Hermione was born Helen got a note of congratulations from Dallas. That was where the last card Helen ever received from her sister came from. That was also where Hermione went to find her aunt.

"Texas," exclaimed Glinda in shock.

"You mean you've been in Texas all this time," asked Harry.

Hermione shook her head affirmatively. "That is until I went on my trip to Cyprus."

"Isn't that where they have those cow men," Ron asked, fascinated by Hermione's tale so far.

She rolled her eyes affectionately. "They're called cowboys Ron. And yes, there are some there. But Dallas is really quite the metropolitan city."

"Blimey! I didn't even know you had an aunt. I thought all of your relatives were dead," Ron inelegantly said.

"Ronald!"

"Well mum, I did!"

Harry leaned into her which caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end. "I remember you telling me about your aunt Holly. She and your mum were twins, right?"

"Fraternal, yes," she responded, touched that he would remember that bit of minutiae about her.

"So did you find your aunt," Charlie asked inquisitively.

Hermione shook her head sadly. "She died. Almost two weeks before I landed on her doorstep. She had been suffering from terminal cancer for years, you see."

Everyone in the room seemed saddened by this news, even Lavender and Ginny. Hermione could feel the Weasleys' empathy for her.

"But, luckily for me her daughter still lived in the house," Hermione finished, a big accomplished smile on her face.

"That must have been wonderful news Hermione," said Arthur excitedly from behind her.

"It was," she said in answer. "Cynthia took me into her home that very night. I lived with her for a few months until I got an apartment with a few friends I made at my job."

"Zat sounds fascinating 'Ermione," Fleur sweetly chirped as she rubbed at her swollen belly lovingly. "Whatever do you do?"

Hermione looked from face to face, knowing that her answer would completely amaze them, and relishing the looks she knew would appear at her answer.

"I've been working at a daycare center. I'm a preschool teacher."

"Bloody hell!"

Hermione turned to look at Harry. If she was being honest that was the response she had been expecting from Ron.

"But you hate kids," her ex-boyfriend practically shouted.

Ah, that was more like it.

"I never said that I hated kids," she said as she brought her attention to Ron. "You said that I hated kids. In truth they did make me uncomfortable for awhile. You should have seen me the first time I had to take a little boy into the bathroom by myself. Between him and me, I don't know who was more embarrassed," she chuckled.

"But after a while I really started to love my job and love the children. They were really great kids," she warmly gushed. "Cynthia is one of the head lawyers for Deeringhams, it's basically the Texan version of Harrods, except they are all over," she said as an after thought. "Well the owners of Deeringhams sit on the board of trustees that run a daycare center for the under privileged children in the area, you see. The Deering family is very modern and socially conscious like that. Well, Cynthia arranged for me to replace one of the teachers at the center after the woman went on maternity leave. She just never came back and I just stayed on."

"Wow," Ron responded in awe.

"You can say that again," Harry mumbled.

"Wow!"

"Git!"

Hermione giggled at the little exchange. God! She had missed her boys so much.

"Speaking of keeds," Fleur said as she turned her head to look at her brood by the hearth, "I zink eet is time for my leetle ones to go to bed."

This statement almost caused a small coup amongst the group at the grate. There were shouts and pleas for ten more minutes. The children had been playing with the assorted pets; Serge, Crookshanks, and Lizzie. The triplets had been trying to coax a few naughty words from the jarvey while the girls had been brushing and playing with Lizzie's thick coat. Lizzie meanwhile seemed intent on making friends with Crookshanks. She cheerfully sat in front of the chair that Crookshanks was perched on, staring at him jovially as she waited for him to acknowledge her. Crooks however was having none of it. He was too busy licking haughtily at his paw. PJ meanwhile was reading a story book to little Dash and Leo near the corner as Marc, ever the adult, looked on.

With Fleur's statement Percy and Penelope decided it was time for them to take their children home as well. They both said their goodbyes, Penelope giving Hermione a friendly hug before picking up the child nearest to her, and the six of them portkeyed out of the Burrow to their home in Exeter. After all four children gave their new "aunt" a kiss on the cheek, Fleur hustled her children up the stairs to get them ready for bed. That just left Violet and Felicity. Glinda was nowhere near ready to leave just yet. She still looked thoroughly amazed to have Hermione back after all of this time. Violet was spending the night at the Burrow and Lavender, for her part, wasn't budging an inch from the room. Ron called Violet to him and sat the little girl on his lap. Fred did the same to his daughter. Hermione then floored everyone when she asked if she could hold Lish. Felicity after all was supposed to be her godchild. She held out her arms to the little girl and the child climbed across her mother, her uncles' George and Harry and settled herself in Hermione's lap as though it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Hermione shifted her so that Felicity was straddling her thigh and the child leaned her head adorably on Hermione's shoulder.

"Ducks! What the bloody hell did they do to you over there," Glinda bemusedly asked. "When did you become the bleeding Child Whisperer?"

"Hermione, if anything I'm glad you're back so you can explain to me half the things this woman says," said Fred snarkily. Glinda repaid him for the remark by pinching his bum under the table.

As everyone laughed, Molly came bustling from the stove laden down with plates. She sat before Hermione one plate with roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, another plate with gammon and eggs, and a dish of custard. Knowingly she also set three eating utensils on each plate. Ron and Harry looked across Hermione, sent a spirited grin each other's way, and both picked up a fork and began eating out of the plate nearest to them. Hermione merely shook her head adoringly at them. Molly also floated bottles of butterbeer to all of the adults in the room.

"Mum, you should rest," said Ginny tersely from across the table.

As far as Hermione could remember this was the first time Ginny had spoken since they had come into the house. When Ginny first laid eyes on her the petite redhead paused, as though seeing a ghost, and then proceeded to give Hermione a tense and awkward hug. Since then however, Ginny seemed comfortable just staying on the sidelines of this reunion. That is until now.

"You've been running around like a chicken since dawn. There is no need to go to all of this trouble. It's just Hermione," she continued. Then thinking better of how that statement might have sounded she added, "She's practically family after all."

"Yes," said Molly as she affectionately rubbed at Hermione's cheek, "she is family. And if I hadn't seen any of you lots' face in all these years I would go to the very same trouble. Dig in dear." She then sat in the chair that Fleur vacated. Arthur walked over to his wife, stooped to kiss her cheek, and bade everyone a good night. As much as he wanted to stay up and chat some more he had a very busy day at the Ministry to look forward to. Before heading up the stairs he kissed the top of Hermione's head.

"We've all missed you so very, very much dear girl. I'm so very happy that you finally came home."

Hermione felt her eyes go wet at Molly and Arthur's words. She called on every bit of strength she possessed not to bawl her eyes out right there as she watched him climb the stairs. Instead she picked up a fork and began making headway on the pudding. In truth she was starved. The long drive from the docks really wore her out.

"So Hermione," Lavender said drawing Hermione's attention to the other blonde, "what brings you back here? Now?"

Hermione softly chuckled at the distrusting underlying tone in Lav's voice. "Well," she began slowly, easing her fork down, "I'm here for Ron."

These words made all action at the table cease. Ron had been lifting a spoonful of custard to Violet's mouth. His eyes went wide. Harry was staring at Hermione. Again! Only this time he was staring with the most peculiar look on his face. Hermione didn't even want to glance down at the end of the table.

"That is to say, I'm here for Ron and you Lavender," she quickly amended. She looked at everyone and smirked at the stunned faces. "I'm here for the wedding sillies!"

She could feel Harry release the breath he had been holding near her right shoulder. Everyone else seemed to relax simultaneously at her statement as well.

She recounted the day, only a few days prior, she'd drifted into a small meze restaurant in Limassol. When she sat down at the table she noticed a newspaper laying haphazardly on it. As she picked it up her jaw nearly hit the table as she recognized the winking picture of Pavel Dimitriov. The first time Hermione had ever seen Dimitriov was when she was 14 and watched him, Viktor, and the rest of the Bulgarian team play against Ireland in the World Cup. But the handsome Dimitriov hadn't changed that much in the eleven years or so that had passed since then. He was also apparently still a whore if the article detailing the paternity suit that fourteen different witches in 10 different countries was filing against him, was true. Viktor had often told her of the ladies man that his team mate was.

What Hermione found was a copy of a day old International Seer. She quickly looked around to see if the paper's owner was coming back for it. Obviously a wizard or witch had been in the restaurant before her and had carelessly left the Seer in the muggle eatery. Hermione quickly exited the restaurant, paper in hand, and walked to her hotel nearby. Once in her room she poured thru the periodical. This was her first contact with anything magical in years. She searched for any mention of anyone she knew from Great Britain. That was how she saw the Weasley wedding announcement. As soon as she saw that Ron's commencement was going to be held in a matter of days she arranged passage to England on the very next boat pulling out of the port town.

"Blimey! I would have married Lav ages ago if that's all it took to get you back home!"

Nearly everyone found the joke funny. Lavender however did not. She primly stood up from her seat, plucked Violet out of Ron's arms, and exited out of the Burrows doors. Ron smiled embarrassedly at everyone as he quickly followed his fiancée out of the door. George, Fred, Bill, and Charlie snickered loudly at his retreating back.

"Well," began Hermione evenly as she stroked Felicity's sleeping head that was nestled comfortably on her bosom now, "I don't know if I would have showed up any other time before now. I was pretty content in Dallas although I had been contemplating moving for a while now. I just happened to be in Cyprus recharging my batteries before I decided where I was going to go to next. But it does almost seem as though fate brought me into that restaurant, doesn't it?"

She looked to her right and her gaze locked with Harry's for a moment before she forcefully wrenched it away.

"Then again I've never put much store in fate."

George, trying to make a joke out of what she said joked, "Well I think it's fated for Ronniekin's hand to be very busy for awhile. Lav Lav doesn't look like she is going to be too accommodating tonight"

"George!"

"Sorry mum."

"I heard you, you prat," snapped Ron as he re-entered the kitchen holding Violet asleep in his arms. Molly got up, gathered the child from Ron, and headed up the stairs with her.

"Lav's gone home to her mum's. You know she can't stay with me any longer 'til the wedding," he said as he took his seat next to Hermione again.

For a few moments the kitchen was bathed in only the sounds of cutlery hitting dinnerware as Harry, Hermione, and Ron finished off the food on their plates. Glinda soon removed Lish from Hermione's embrace and cradled the little girl in her own arms. Fred and George started on Bill, trying to get him to tell them what Fleur was having. Bill however wasn't disclosing the information. Soon Charlie informed them that he was coming home to stay for a few months. Maybe even settle down for good with a nice bird. Everyone was shocked yet pleased with this statement. Charlie hadn't really lived at home since he left Hogwarts. He was always off at some foreign locale after another, wrangling dragons. But after his time in Sweden he felt that now was the time for him to finally put down some roots. Harry briefly mentioned that he wanted to discuss a case he was working on as soon as Charlie was free. This statement confused Hermione. What would a Seeker need a Dragon Keeper for? When she asked, Ginny bragged on how her husband was now one of the most well known and respected Aurors in the country. Hermione couldn't believe it! She asked what else had changed since she had been gone. Everyone then began to tell her about the marriages, the births, and sadly the deaths she had missed out on. Moody and Winky's were the ones she took the hardest. Ron annoyingly made a big deal out of Oliver Wood being engaged to Alicia Spinnet. Hermione said that she was happy for them. She was shocked though to hear that Cormac Mclaggen had married Pansy Parkinson. And more then that, the two were having a baby. From where Hermione was sitting it looked like Ginny was just as mystified by the whole thing.

"And how about you duckie," Glinda said as she expertly raised an eyebrow in Hermione's direction. "Let's see those hands."

Hermione, being thoroughly confused as to what Glinda was implying, lifted both of her hands before her.

"No rings on those fingers then?"

It took Hermione only a second to catch on. "Oh," she said as her cheeks flushed pink. "No, no rings on my fingers."

Once again she felt Harry's heated gaze on her. She felt as though he were trying to look straight thru her.

"Well why not," Glinda badgered her. "Aren't you a girl who looks like you still single? It ought to be a crime!"

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I'm just poor wife material."

"Well surely Hermione there is someone in your life," Ginny pressed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "Way back when you always had someone new lined up."

Ginny's comment suddenly made everyone in the room uncomfortable. Charlie tittered nervously while Bill excused himself and went up the stairs to bed. Harry looked at his wife, almost for the first time that evening, and sent her a displeased look as he gathered one of Hermione's hands in his own. Ginny however ignored this; she just kept her eyes trained on Hermione. Ron disgustedly rolled his eyes as he leaned back and protectively put an arm around Hermione's chair. Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had felt so well cared for.

"Actually, for awhile now, Lizzie has been the only companion in my life," she joshed as she sat up straight in her seat. "I had a blind date just a few years ago that just about put me off of men forever."

"What the devil could have happened that was that bad," Glinda asked as Harry made a queer choking sound.

Hermione giggled at the memory. "Well you see one of my room mates, Amelia, was dating this bloke who worked for this tool company. Her boyfriend was closing this big deal with an exec from a firm based here. So lover boy gets it into his head how great it would be if the two Brits meet. Mind you, when he first met me he thought I was from Connecticut. So he invites the poor bastard out for a few drinks and corners Amy into bringing me along as the sacrificial lamb to the slaughter. Our other room mate even got in on the act, forcing me to go. Benny even..."

"Who's Benny," Harry suspiciously questioned, interrupting the flow of her story. Everyone at the table looked at him, Hermione chief among them. "Just curious, is all," he bashfully said.

"Benitez is...I mean, was my other room mate."

Harry scrunched up his face as if trying to decipher a difficult Arithmancy problem. "You lived with a man?"

"Well...yes," Hermione said in answer, bewildered by Harry's line of questioning. "If you recall Potter I once lived with two men."

Ron and Charlie snorted at her joke.

Harry gave them both disdainful looks before arguing, "That was different. Ron and I were your best mates. Any other bloke might be out to take advantage of you."

Hermione sighed. He was still playing the over protective brother.

"I really didn't have to worry about that with Benitez. You see, I had a vagina. I don't think he was very interested in it. Besides his boyfriend would have had a few choice words for me if he had."

Ron, who had been nursing his bottle of butterbeer, spat the dark liquid out. Charlie reached over to pat his back while stifling his laughter. Fred, Glinda, and George however practically fell over each other from laughing so hard. The only ones who seemed like they weren't amused were Ginny and Harry.

Felicity began to stir in Glinda's arms and Fred reached over to take his daughter from his wife. He told Glinda to stay while he took Lish home. He would fly them on his broom; she could just floo into their cottage when she was ready. Glinda, who abhorred flying on any contraption she couldn't get an in-flight movie and a bag of peanuts, readily agreed. After she kissed her family goodbye she turned dancing eyes back towards Hermione.

"So finish, tell us about the date from Hell."

Hermione chuckled at Glinda's excitement. Glinda always enjoyed a good story.

"Well there isn't much to tell. I showed up to the bar when who should I spy sitting beside Amy's boyfriend but Dudley Dursley."

Hermione giggled madly at the stunned faces of Harry, Ron, Charlie, George, and Ginny. Glinda seemed to be the only one in the dark.

"No fucking way," said Ron in awe.

Harry was still too shocked to say anything.

"Who is this Dursley bloke," asked Glinda.

George turned to Glinda, a large grin on his face. "Remember Fred and I told you about Harry's muggle cousin?"

"Oh yeah," Glinda said as realization dawned on her. "The one who got the pleasure of being WWWs very first guinea pig."

"You got set up with Dudley," Harry asked, baffled.

"Uh huh."

"I haven't seen him in years, thank Merlin!"

"What did he say to you," asked Ron.

"Nothing. He was a perfect gentleman at first. Big as a house still, but sweet."

Both Ron and Harry scoffed at this.

"It's true. He was actually quite shy when we were introduced. He didn't seem to recognize me. My hair wasn't blonde by then, but I figure after not seeing me for years I did look quite different. Plus the bar was dark and smoky. We actually got on quite well."

"Well where did the hell part come in," Glinda asked.

"Oh, that would be about the time he walked me home and thought he was spending the night. He even got a little aggressive with me."

Harry made a strangled sound and looked as though he was ready to leave his seat, hunt his cousin down, and give him a good throttling then and there. Hermione sensing his jumbled thoughts laid a gentle hand on his wrist to hold him in place. He calmed down quickly.

"Don't bother," she said to him. "He didn't get too far. I simply asked him when the last time he had been turned into a piglet. He took one good look at me under the bright lights of my hallway and took off like a streak." Hermione chuckled softly to herself. "You know I never figured a man that big could run that fast."

Everyone's laughter brought Molly back down the stairs.

"I just got the girls back to sleep. You lot need to keep it down."

Molly's chastising words made Hermione look to her watch.

"Oh damn," she exclaimed. "I hadn't intended to stay this long. I have a reservation at the Blakes and it will take me forever to make the drive over."

"You're staying in London then," Harry nervously asked.

Hermione began to stand up. "Yes. I booked a suite as soon as I made the arrangements to get on the boat. I wanted something in town so I wouldn't have to go too far to look for a flat."

Glinda, Ron, and Harry all seemed to inhale deeply at her words. All three were frightened to speak in case they misunderstood what she meant. It was up to Charlie to ask the important question.

"You're looking for a place to live?"

Hermione bit on her bottom lip as she looked between Harry and Ron. She hadn't realized that she hadn't made her plans clear.

"I'm sorry; I thought I made that part clear. I'm coming back home."

Before Hermione knew it she was being engulfed in a hearty bear hug by both Harry and Ron. The two tall men lifted her easily off of the ground.

"Put me down you prats, put me down," she shouted amusedly. "What do I look like, a doll you can just fling about. I already had a taste of the Twin Sandwich.

"Oh yeah," Ron said cheekily, "Well this is the Trio Panini!"

"Leave it to Ron to get technical when it comes to food," said Harry as he sweetly kissed her cheek. Hermione had to consciously remind herself not to put her hand to the spot just to touch it.

Glinda practically pulled the two men off of Hermione so she could get in her own hug.

"You mean it? You've really come to stay," she asked as she held on to her friend tight. Hermione shook her head up and down, too choked up to speak. "Well forget about that fancy schmancy hotel love. You're coming to Hogsmeade with me!"

"I would kick this one out," Ron said referring to George, "so you could stay at my place, but Lavender would kill me."

"Well why don't you just come home with me," Harry said eagerly. "Me and Ginny I mean," he quickly corrected as he looked at his wife and promptly turned his back to her as he saw the incredulity in her eyes. "We have more then enough room at our house. We have room after room."

Although her face looked impassive to anyone looking at her, Hermione had to control the horror struck expression that threatened to spread across it. Stay at Harry's?! What did these people think she was made of? That was a horrible idea!

Ginny walked up to her and reached out her hand to her. "Harry is right Hermione. We have more then enough room. We would love to have you."

To say that Ginny's eyes were frozen blue ice chips wouldn't have come close enough to describe them. The redhead's cold eyes seemed to challenge Hermione. Come stay with me. See how happy my life is. I dare you! At least in her opinion that's what they seemed to say.

An insincere smile seemed to graft its self to Hermione's face. "I wouldn't want to impose," she said as she carefully removed her wrist from our of Ginny's grasp.

"Well you won't be imposing on me," said Molly as she wrapped Hermione in a motherly embrace. "You think I would let you come all the way back here and then send you away to some big, drafty hotel," she asked. "Merlin no! You will stay right here. You can have Ginny's old room."

Ron, Glinda, and George all made noises of approval. Although Hermione was touched by the offer she still valiantly tried to protest. "But...but...where will Charlie sleep?"

"I don't mind bunking down on the couch for a few nights Hermione."

"See Hermione, this will be perfect," insisted Ron as he threw his arms around her shoulder.

"I won't take no for an answer Hermione Granger," Molly said firmly as she turned the young woman around to face her. "It's much too late for you to drive all that way. Besides dear I think your friend would protest if you tried to leave now."

Molly nodded her head in the direction of the fireplace. Sleeping peacefully in front of it was Hermione's beloved pet. Curled up on top of Lizzie was Serge. The lordly Crookshanks was sleeping high above them on his chair.

Hermione's hesitance eased up at the sight of the resting animal as well as Molly's hopeful face.

"Are you sure it won't be too much trouble," she asked, just a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"Dear, it won't be trouble at all."

Hermione then looked at the bright smiles of Glinda, Ron, George, and Charlie and decided that maybe it would be alright for her to stay at the Burrow after all. It would only be for one night, two at the most hopefully. As Hermione studied Ginny's face she could see that the young woman was quite relieved that Hermione hadn't taken her up on her offer. For once Hermione could agree with her on the sentiment. But it was the expression on Harry's face that troubled her. It was guarded. As though he were trying to hide from her how he felt about this whole situation. Was he mad that she hadn't chosen to stay at his home? Was he disappointed? He probably thought it would be harmless enough for her to stay with him for a few days. Hadn't she slept in a bed with him once? It would be like old times. He probably still saw her as that same teen aged girl who was his trusted best friend, who was like a sister to him. Of course he wouldn't see anything wrong with her staying in his great big home where he slept with his ravishing flawless bride and he lived his wonderful perfect life.

But she could.

"Alright then," she said as she focused her attention on Molly instead. "I'd be more then happy to stay."

Thirty minutes later Hermione was resting comfortably in the third floor bedroom where she'd once spent a handful of summer nights, gossiping and giggling with a little girl who had been her very first female friend. She fondly remembered that hazy, lazy summer, just before she turned 15, when she and Ginny started to bond. She could still recall the morning that Ginny nicked a very large maroon brassier out of her mum's room and both girls took turns trying it on, praying for the day that they would have enough to at least half way fill it. Hermione could still hear her own laughter as she watched Ginny's freckled face go from disbelief to horror as she described to the younger girl what a tampon was and where muggle women put them. And if she tried, she was sure she could see despite the darkness of the room the faint shapes of two adolescent girls huddled under the sheets of Ginny's bed, confiding and whispering to one another the name of the boy each girl fancied. The fact that both objects of affections were upstairs in the attic bedroom, probably dead to the world, only helped to fuel their girlish giggles. As Hermione finally pulled the duvet tight around her she could only wonder if her life had really been that easy back then or had time simply tampered with her memories to make everything seem so idyllic. Probably a bit of both, she said aloud to know one but herself and the darkened room, then rolled over on her side and closed her eyes. Probably a bit of both.

In fact those were simpler times. They were times when no one gave the slightest thought of dark lords rising from the pits of hell to throw everything in disarray. Days when youth promised you a future, not death for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Days when a little boy hadn't yet been told that it was his responsibility to save the world. Days when all Hermione Granger had to worry about was whether or not a badge marked with a large P would come her way in another year or if Ron would notice the two whole inches she grew while vacationing with her parents in Majorca. That's where Hermione had been before she came to spend the rest of her summer at the Burrow. The Granger women had spent a few days sunning themselves on a beach in Pollença while Hermione and her father explored the remnants of the old watch tower and palace of Sóller. All in all it had been a pleasant get away, even if Hermione felt she had been forced to it at first. The trip had been part of the deal that enabled Hermione to go to the Quidditch World Cup. When Ron's family offered to take Hermione and Harry to the championship game and then deliver them to school for the start of term Hermione, despite her indifference to all things Quidditch, jumped at the offer. Any chance to spend more time with her two best friends were well worth the bother of the silly little game. All she knew was wherever Harry and Ron were she wanted to be as well. It was a desire that grew and grew with each passing year of their friendship. Her parents, somewhat reluctantly, agreed to let her go as long as she spent a few weeks with them beforehand. Though her parents were proud of her accomplishments at Hogwarts and her status as a witch, Helen and Daniel Granger couldn't help but feel that with each passing year they were being slowly marginalized out of their daughter's life. It was as if they no longer belonged to her world or she to theirs. Hermione noticed the change as well, but felt too young and inadequate to do anything about it. When Daniel offered her the proposal she figured that maybe the little family holiday with her parents would be enough to make up for it all. Although Hermione would have preferred to have gone straight to the Burrow, she and her father shook on the deal. Sadly no one knew at the time that the vacation would be the last real bit of quality time the little family would ever spend with one another.

After they arrived back in England Daniel drove Hermione straight to the Burrow and tried to ignore the sad tug on his heart as his one and only child gave him a quick kiss goodbye and ran blissfully towards the Weasleys' door. The only thing that made the situation bearable for the Grangers was the fact that their little Hermione Jane was finally happy. Before they found out that Hermione was actually a witch, that wasn't always the case.

As a child making friends had never come easy for Hermione. She was always different from the other kids. She thought that studying and learning new things was the most fun that could be had. She raised her hand in class more times then the law should allow. During Break Time she preferred sitting on a bench with a well worn and much loved copy of Peter Pan or Through the Looking Glass as opposed to making daisy chains with the other little girls or pretending not to notice the boys playing leap frog near by. And most importantly Hermione could make things...happen...without even trying. She was what the "polite" well raised children called odd. The other little bastards chose far nastier names for her. Usually the modus operandi used was clever word play on her name. Well, clever for a bunch of primary schoolers. Her-morngy, Herma-ninny, Germy Hermy. One 8 year old, snot nosed monster named Sebastian Bingham called her Hermaphrodite during morning Assembly for three days straight. It was only on the third day, as the other kids laughed uproariously at her embarrassment and hot tears threatened to stream down her face that Hermione retaliated the only way she knew best. She dared Sebastian to spell it. That was the last time Bingham ever looked her way.

Hermione learned an important lesson that day. She was smarter then most of her peers and when needed she could use her rapier sharp mind as a fierce weapon to protect herself. Unfortunately for Hermione she never noticed that she also inadvertently used her keen intelligence as a shield and barrier to keep others from getting too close. Through out her primary school career she was a very lonely girl. When she got to Hogwarts she hoped that all of that would change, but she only received more of the same. That is until Harry and Ron came barreling their way into the girl's bathroom on that All Hollow's Eve and forever wove themselves into the fabric of her life.

In Harry and Ron she found two people worthy of all of the care and devotion that had been hidden away in her big heart for years. In Harry and Ron she found two people who accepted and loved her for the bossy boots, know-it-all, pain in the ass that even she knew she could be from time to time. In Harry and Ron she found two friends that she knew she would have all of her life. And most importantly in Harry and Ron she found what had been missing without her even knowing it had been lost, she found the two missing puzzle pieces that completed her. Heart, mind, soul...the Trio.

Theirs was an odd friendship. It was very rare that you saw a relationship, especially one as strong and powerful as what the three children shared; develop between two boys and girl. Sure Hermione never understood the boys' near obsession with Quidditch and sure Harry and Ron tended to label any oddness on her part as "girl issues" more then her liking, never the less, she would have never traded them for all the gold in Gringotts. But as she got older she did start to wish that there was some form of female outlet in her life. Someone who could relate to some of the changes Mother Nature was bestowing on her as well as another little girl who she could confide things that she would have been too shamed to share with her boys. Hermione's dorm mates, Lavender Brown and Parvatti Patil were out of the question however. In Hermione's humble opinion Lavender was silly at best and vacuous at worse. Parvatti wasn't that much better if judging by the titles of her book collection; The Necromancer's Naughty Nymph and The Potion Master, the Witch, and his Magic Wand to name just a few. Although she got along well with Padma Patil and Susan Bones, often sharing many classes like Arithmancy or Runes with them, the three girls' relationships with one another back then was best described as competitive rather then close. Each girl knew early on that the other two would more then likely be her competition for Head girl in a few years. Eventually Hermione realized that she had done quite well for three years without female companionship. She figured that Harry and Ron's friendship was all that she needed. It was after reaching this monumental decision that Ginny Weasley decided to enter the picture.

Before that summer of '94 Hermione and Ginny had never really associated with one another. Of course they knew each other pretty well, Ginny after all was Ron's baby sister and a fellow Gryffindor, the difference in ages and personality however made the idea of a friendship between the two of them seem unlikely. That fact didn't stop Hermione from trying to befriend the younger girl when she first came to Hogwarts though. At first Hermione had tried to be friendly with the redhead, giving her advice or offering her assistance with homework assignments, Ginny however struck Hermione as being overly secretive and slightly standoff-ish. Later on they would all discover that Ginny Weasley had fallen under the thrall of Tom Riddle's diary for most of the year, but at the time Ginny's seemingly reticence to form any kind of relationship with her strengthened in Hermione the belief that she obviously sent off some kind of pheromone that repelled other members of her sex.

Then one day shortly after the fiasco with the dark mark and poor little Winky, while Harry, Ron, and the twins were off near the lake behind the Burrow, flying or causing some sort of trouble (at least to Hermione's thinking), Ginny cautiously approached the corner of the room she had been reading in.

"Yes," asked Hermione, looking over the top of her Standard Book of Spells, Grade Four. Although she didn't know it, her face was stern and drawn, a facial expression that was quite the norm for her when she was immersed in one of her school books. Hermione always took her studies very seriously. However this was the look that often made people think she was unapproachable. Or worse still, a wet blanket. Ginny Weasley however seemed oblivious to this thinking.

"I don't mean to be a bother, I'll leave you alone," she said as she turned on her heel to exit the front parlor of the house.

The lines of Hermione's face softened and a genuine, shy smile crept to her face. "Oh, you're no bother Ginny," she said as she settled the book on the floor next to her feet. "I just figured that you were outside watching the boys. I'm absolute rubbish on a broom myself." Hermione flushed an embarrassed pink. It always tweaked her ego a bit that she was a witch with absolutely no head for flying. Hermione wasn't used to being rubbish at anything. "What about you?"

"Oh I've been stealing my brothers' brooms since I was six. But shhh," she said putting a finger mischievously to her lips, "don't tell them about it."

Ginny grinned down at her and Hermione couldn't help but return the smile. This girl before her was worlds different then the shy tongue tied one she was used to encountering. Of course Harry was usually around for those times, thought Hermione analytically. As soon as that thought rose up Hermione brushed it easily to the side.

"Although I don't support theft in any manner," Hermione began in a false grave voice, "I think that's absolutely brilliant," she said as an admiring smile broke across her face. "Do you think you might try out for Quidditch this year?" Hermione patted the spot next to her on the floor, a clear invitation, and Ginny's smile brightened as she eased down next to her.

"Well I am a bit scrawny for Keeper, don't you think? With Wood gone that's about the only option open," Ginny said in an easy, carefree tone. "I wouldn't want to be a Beater for all of the galleons in the Malfoy vault. The twins are just too good to replace and besides I wouldn't want to end up with man arms like Pug Face Parkinson," she joshed as her freckled face wore a naughty grin.

Hermione bit the insides of her right cheek to keep herself from smiling. Although Pansy Parkinson was a cow it wasn't really nice to talk about her that way...even if her arms were rather masculine.

"I would love to play Chaser, but Angelina, Alicia, and Katie are unbeatable as a team. I couldn't hope to compare."

Hermione nodded her head in agreement. The three Gryffindor Chasers did work magnificently together. Probably because they were all such close friends Hermione surmised. Hermione could only wonder how Katie Bell was going to take it in a few years when the two older girls left Hogwarts.

"Then there's Harry," Ginny said dreamily as she hung her head down and smiled. "But who could replace Harry? Dad says that he's the best thing to happen to Gryffindor house in years."

Hermione couldn't miss the near worshipful tones in Ginny's voice. It was painfully obvious that the poor thing still fancied Harry. But Hermione knew that as long as Ginny treated Harry as though he were some near god-like figure he would never look her way.

"Is that what you wanted to talk about, Harry" Hermione asked in an almost sharp manner. She was used to other girls asking her questions about Harry and sometimes even Ron and it bothered her to no end. She hated that most people only saw her as a conduit to one of her boys. It hurt her to think that this was what Ginny was doing. Hermione had almost fooled herself for a moment into thinking that Ginny wanted to make friends.

Ginny must have caught on to a bit of Hermione's frustration because her face quickly took on a look of worriment.

"Oh no...no...that's not it at all," Ginny said, voice trembling. "I...I...," Ginny stammered as her ears burned red, "I wanted to talk to you about school."

At the word 'school' Hermione's face perked up. "School?"

"Yes, I...it's just that I'm going to be starting my third year soon..."

"I know, isn't it exciting," Hermione said as her eyes danced cheerfully. "You get to choose two new classes. You have so much to choose from. There's Runes and Arithmancy, Muggle Studies and Magical Creatures...Divination..." Hermione scrunched up her nose at that last subject. "Although Trelawney is a fraud and anyone who would tell you different is an idiot," Hermione said as she held her nose high.

Ginny smirked. "Like Parvatti and Lavender?"

Hermione couldn't help herself from wearing a similar look on her face. "Well I didn't say it."

The two girls laughed at the remark.

"But seriously your third year is so important Ginny. I mean, just think, you're only two years closer to O.W.L.s. And then after that you only have another year before you have to think about N.E.W.T.s. And then there's all the new spells you're going to learn," she said as her eyes glowed and her cheeks hurt from smiling so hard.

Ginny gave Hermione a wide eyed look of awe that made Hermione blush furiously.

"Sorry," she said abashed. "I probably sound so boring to you." Hermione hung her head low. She could only imagine what Ginny was thinking about her now. Why would someone as funny and pretty as her want to befriend someone whose nose was constantly in a book.

"You're not boring Hermione," Ginny declared forthrightly. "You're pretty far from boring. Boring would be Percy or...or...what's that puffed up Hufflepuff's name again? He's one who is constantly bragging about his scores and what not."

"That would be Zacharias."

"What I wouldn't give to be able to shut his gob."

"Ginny!"

"Well I would," Ginny answered with out a hint of apology. "But you're nothing like them. Besides, I know how important school is to you. Ron's told me."

Hermione felt her face go very warm at the mention of her secret crush's name.

"Ron talks about me then," she asked as casually as she could muster. However she wouldn't meet Ginny's gaze, thus missing the look of understanding that alighted in the younger girl's eyes.

Ginny smiled as she said, "Talks about you? He won't shut up about you, at least to me and mum. 'Course he wouldn't dare say anything in front of Fred and George, they would never leave him alone if he did. But he's constantly going on and on about something you said, or something you did. Why, to hear him tell it, you would almost think that he considers you the only girl in the world..."

As Ginny said all of this it took every drop of Hermione's poise and dignity to refrain from jumping from the floor and clicking her heels at these words. That is until Ginny said something that completely threw her for a loop.

"...him and Harry that is."

If Hermione hadn't been concentrating on how odd Ginny's last words were she might have caught the hint of edge in the girl's tone. But at the time she had been so perplexed by the statement that she was oblivious to everything else.

"Somehow I doubt that. I'm just the only girl that they know well." She then sighed forlornly. "Sometimes I don't think Ron even recognizes the fact that I am a girl."

"Why not? You're cute...enough."

As much as that last bit smarted Hermione couldn't really fault Ginny for it.

"Ginny Weasley," she half scolded the redhead as though she was her pupil, "my head is too small for my hair, my teeth are too big for my face, and right now I'm wearing a training bra that makes me feel like I'm a right and proper fraud." She despondently sighed as she leaned her head back against the wall. "Trust me; I know when I'm licked."

Ginny rolled her eyes at the tirade. "Mum says girls like you are just late bloomers, is all. I still think my brother fancies you."

"Well he sure has a funny way of showing it," Hermione sulkily replied. Then she and Ginny locked gazes and simultaneously huffed, "Boys!"

This caused both girls too fall upon themselves in laughter.

"Golly Hermione, I knew there was a reason I liked you."

Hermione looked at Ginny in amazement. "You like me?"

"'Course I do! You're not at all like these giggling idiots who only care what new robes they can get daddy to buy them."

"Well yes, my giggling quotient is quite low," Hermione said in mock severity.

Ginny smiled at the joke. "See, you're smart and funny too. I wish I could be like you."

"Like me," Hermione bewilderedly responded. "Why would anyone want to be like me?"

Ginny shook her head at the inquiry as if it were the silliest question ever asked. "Why wouldn't they? All the professors' brag on how you are the smartest witch Hogwarts has seen everyone knows you're going to be Head Girl in a few years, and best of all Harry Potter is you're best friend. Who wouldn't want to be you?"

"But I don't even think of it like that," Hermione tried to explain. "I've never thought of Harry like that. Harry is just..." she paused as she searched her brain to find the best way to describe just what she meant. "Harry's just Harry to me."

Ginny's smile tightened ever so slightly as she said, "Well, we can't all be so lucky now can we?"

The conversation was taking a very odd turn in Hermione's opinion, but before she could protest Ginny's last remark the other girl effortlessly changed the topic.

"Do you think," she said nervously as she fingered the frayed edges of the skirt she was wearing, "do you think we could maybe...I don't know...hang out some more. Together." Ginny was so obviously embarrassed by the offer that she couldn't even look at Hermione. But if she had, she would have seen the bright, hopeful smile that had begun to form on the other girl's face.

"I mean, I would understand if you don't want to, you have Ron and...Harry. But I think I could learn a lot from you. Spells and such. I know this great concoction we could put in your hair, make it shinny like my own and it would be nice to have a girl I could talk to from time to time. You just don't know how lucky you are being an only child Hermione! Having six brothers is hell...oops," Ginny said as she quickly covered her mouth. "Sorry," she sheepishly apologized.

Hermione merely smiled at the slip. "That's alright. I am friends with Ron, I've heard worse."

Ginny smiled.

"And I would like it very much if we...hung out. And there are so many spells I could teach you. In fact I've been working on a new one. Would you like to see it?" Ginny shook her head up and down enthusiastically as Hermione stood up from the floor. She drew her wand out of her jean pocket. Ginny stood up as well.

"But won't you get in trouble," she nervously questioned Hermione.

Hermione only smiled at her trepidation. "The first time I tried it out I did. Got one of those letters from Hopkirk's office. But I'm sure I could get away with it here. With five of age magical people staying in this one house right now they could never track it back to me."

Hermione then breezily explained to her how the Ministry really couldn't track an individual wand. In a house where so much magic was practiced regularly a small spell like hers would slip easily thru the cracks.

"You mean I could have turned Percy into a slug a long time ago?"

Hermione's mischievous smile was all the answer that Ginny needed. "Yes, but don't tell Ron or Harry. Merlin only knows what they could get up to if they knew!"

"Forget that, just imagine the twins."

The very thought of what trouble the Weasley twins could stir up before they officially were allowed to perform magic sent Hermione's eyebrows into her hairline. "This remains our little secret then," she conspiratorially said as she offered her hand to Ginny.

"Something tells me we are going to have a lot of those," Ginny said as she took Hermione's hand in hers and gave it a firm shake.

Hermione was almost made speechless by Ginny's statement. She felt tears begin to prickle in her eyes, but commanded herself not to let them fall. She didn't want Ginny to think that she was some silly ninny or something.

"Yes, right. Well the incantation is roentgenesco. It's a variation on a vanishing charm with a bit of a Protean thrown in." She said all of this as if Ginny should obviously know what she was talking about. Of course Ginny didn't, but she didn't want to confess this fact to Hermione. "It makes you see thru things; doors, ceilings, plastic. Thin walls even."

Ginny was obviously impressed by the scope of the spell, if her wide opened mouth was any indicator. "Did you learn that in your third year?"

"Goodness no. I...I sort of came up with it on my own," she said, hoping that she didn't sound half as conceited as she feared she might. She smiled bashfully at Ginny. "You see Harry...being Harry...you just never know when that sort of thing might be necessary."

"Galloping Gorgons Hermione! Is there anything you can't do?"

The praise in Ginny's voice did nothing for Hermione's modesty.

"Well keeping my toast from turning into bits of charcoal seems a bit hard, but other then that..." she said cheekily, trying to deflate her own ego as much as she could. Ginny could only laugh at the bit of self deprecation.

Hermione then walked over the wall next to the doorway that led into the kitchen as Ginny followed after her. Hermione expertly raised her wand and pointed it towards the old wallpaper. With her shoulders squared and her spine straight Hermione looked perfectly in her element.

"Now I must warn you, you must tread with caution with this spell," she advised her friend.

"Why? What could happen to me?"

"You just might see something that scars you for life," Hermione admitted. "Honestly, a girl should never see their parents doing...that ever!"

At first Ginny was at a loss what Hermione could possibly mean until Hermione's arched eyebrow gave her a clue.

"Oh," she muttered in awe. Then again she said, "Oh." That time it was laced in mock horror. Both girls almost succumbed to a nice lengthy giggling fit until Hermione had the good grace to try and act her age and calmed Ginny and herself down. Once Ginny looked as though she wouldn't fall to the floor in hysterics anymore, Hermione cast her spell at the wall. Instantly a picture of Mrs. Weasley standing in her kitchen appeared before them. The Weasley matriarch was cooking, as was usual. She had a bottle of sherry in her hand, the kind she used to make her Sherry Trifle with. Surprisingly enough, 'til that day, no one ever knew just how much Molly Weasley actually nipped out of the bottle while she was preparing her Trifle.

"Blimey! No wonder mum always seems so happy after making that god-awful thing."

Hermione covered her mouth so she wouldn't laugh too loud.

Both girls continued to look at the wall. The spell was so good it was almost as if they were staring into a telly. Professor Flitwick would have definitely given Hermione an O for her effort. Seeing the admiring glint in Ginny's eye only made Hermione even prouder of her work. As the sounds of a heard of wildebeest began to come tramping thru the kitchen (really only the boys done with their play) Hermione ended the incantation. Ginny turned to her, idolization and something else....what was it...envy maybe...burning in her eyes. Hermione however ignored the latter and only seemed to see the former. It was nice to know that she could impress Ginny so well.

"Cor Hermione, you know everything!"

And that was how their tenuous friendship began.

"Hermione, how can I get Snape off my back and still pass Potions?"

"Hermione, do you know a spell that can make my robes look new?"

"Hermione, what do you really think of Cho Chang?"

Hermione never tired of giving Ginny her solicited advice. It felt nice that someone genuinely respected her opinion. Of course she knew that, in their own way, Harry and Ron appreciated all she did for them such as advising them about their homework or trying to keep them out of trouble. But she also knew that at times they did think she was a nag. However, Ginny seemed to hang off of her every opinion. Ginny's glowing praise and admiration drew her in, moth like. It would burn her as well one day too.

"Hermione....I can't stand it! I just can't stand it!"

Hermione had just come from Ron and Harry's bedroom. It was the Christmas holidays and though she was supposed to be in Gstaad skiing the slopes were her mum and dad, she had come to spend her vacation at Grimmauld Place instead. Hermione loved skiing! It was one of the few sports that she was actually good at, but when she learned of Harry's prophetic dream and then his and the Weasley children's' flight from Hogwarts right before the end of term she knew that her place was with him. Of course her parents had been disappointed, but they seemed to understand how important being with her friend right now was to her. They dropped her off in front of the Black family home on their way to the airport. Hermione barely had time to shake the snow flakes out of her hair or even take off her gloves and jacket before she searched him out, her need to see and comfort Harry being that great. He had been surly, an irritating step down from his usual moody self, when she first barged in on his hideout in Buckbeak's room. He asked her why she wasn't with her parents. Hermione told him a simple white lie about her not being that good a skier. She instinctually knew that if Harry thought she was chucking her vacation for him he would be even surlier. Somehow she had managed to get Harry out of that room, fed, and arranged a quasi-intervention for him in his bedroom with the rest of the Weasley children. By the end of the night Hermione had felt her job had been well done; Harry no longer believed himself to be a vessel of evil and had returned to being the moody 15 year old boy he had been for most of the year. A definite improvement!

After Ginny and the twins had left the room, more like been hustled out rudely by Ron, the three friends put their heads together and discussed a few other things before deciding it was time for bed. In actuality Ron had just drifted off to sleep while Hermione was talking and she stormed out of the room in a snit. When she arrived to the room she was staying in she hadn't been prepared for what Ginny threw out at her.

At Ginny's outburst Hermione rushed to the side of her friend's bed.

"Ginny what's wrong? Are you alright," she asked frantically.

Ginny huffed indignantly at the question.

"Of course I'm not alright! How could you! How could you not tell me! I thought we were friends."

Hermione was at a loss of what could have sent Ginny into her current state.

"But we are Ginny," she insisted. "I don't under..."

"Harry kissed Cho," she hissed as her skin turned a sallow color that made her freckles stand out.

Hermione finally let out the breath she had been holding once Ginny said that. So that is what this is all about, she thought to herself.

"And?"

Ginny's blue eyes seemed to snap fire at Hermione's apparently nonchalant demeanor.

"And," she snarled, voice dripping in disdain. "Didn't you think I'd want to know something like that? You know I still have a thing for Harry. But instead I had to hear it from the Fred and George, who got the story from Ron. And if Ron knew about it I know that you did too." Hermione couldn't be sure, but she thought she almost heard an accusation in Ginny's tone.

The truth was that Hermione had been trying to think about anything but that kiss that Harry and Cho had shared only a few days prior. She had known that Harry had a crush on Cho since at least the end of their third year and had felt terribly bad for him when she turned down his invitation to the Yule Ball that next year. But at the start of the new school term Hermione began to get the impression that Cho Chang had decided to change her tune where it concerned Harry. And for some reason Hermione didn't like it one bit. But since Harry seemed to be so excited over the prospect of dating Cho Hermione decided to be happy for him. When he told Ron and her about the tear stained kiss Hermione had tried to detach her brain from her own jumbled feelings and explain to Harry the best way she could what she thought was going on in Cho's head. She knew she sounded clinical, almost un-feeling, but even that was better then her annoyance that the pretty Ravenclaw had ruined Harry's memory of his very first kiss forever and the disbelief that such a dingbat could have ever gotten sorted in Ravenclaw. The fact that Hermione was having such catty thoughts unsettled her greatly as well. She didn't understand them at all. So she turned her frustrations out on poor Ron, insulting him rather nastily. But she told herself that he deserved it. The way he was acting one would have thought that he had kissed Cho Chang himself. As if he would ever have the stones to haul off and kiss a girl, Hermione thought darkly.

"Of course I knew about it, but...I mean...It's no big deal Ginny," she said as she seated herself on the bed facing Ginny.

"No big deal?!" Ginny looked at the other girl as though she had went mad.

"Besides," Hermione countered, "she kissed him." It was a petty thing to say, but still...it was true wasn't it?

Ginny frowned. "That's it then," she said dejectedly. "I have no chance. Cho Chang is pretty, and popular, and plays Quidditch. What more could Harry possibly want?"

Hermione's brow wrinkled at the remark. "I hope a lot more then that!"

Ginny rolled her eyes as if Hermione was being simple minded. "Be serious Hermione, you know what I mean. Against someone like Cho I have no chance. I even tried to take a page out of your book and make Harry jealous, but he didn't seem to care that I was dating Michael."

Hermione was flabbergasted at this admission. She had suspected that Ginny had finally settled on another boy so she could get over Harry. Hermione had no idea that Ginny had done so to gain Harry's attention. It was almost devious. She wasn't sure if she liked this admission.

"What do you mean by my playbook?"

"Come now Hermione," Ginny snickered drolly, "as if you went to the ball with Krum because you enjoyed his conversational skills and his interest in house-elves' rights."

Hermione's mouth fell open, aghast that Ginny would suggest such a thing. People had been speculating on Hermione's reasons for going to the Yule Ball with Viktor ever since it happened. According to half of Hogwarts population it was a desperate act to get Ron to notice her. According to The Prophet it was her way of playing with poor little Harry's heart. The truth was far simpler. Viktor had a nice bum. The day she noticed this fact was the day that she conceded to stop hating Quidditch at least a little. Of course she never told another living soul this.

"I was not trying to make Ron jealous," she insisted. "As though I needed the trouble! He just went from being a clueless blind git to being a jealous blind git. Who, might I add, was still clueless," she fumed.

"And just so you know I went with Viktor because he happened to find me interesting," she said haughtily.

Ginny's lips twisted themselves into a smirk. "I bet he found two things about you very interesting." Ginny outright laughed at the pink shade that Hermione's cheeks turned. "If I didn't know better I would think that Malfoy's spell had been aimed lower.

Hermione couldn't believe that Ginny would say something like that. Of all people Ginny knew how embarrassed Hermione was of the growth spurt she experienced shortly after term began the year before. Hermione was so confused by the rapid change in her body that she had begun to wear her robes and school uniforms looser. Only Ginny and a few other girls in Gryffindor seemed to notice the change then thankfully. However that summer when she had shown up to Grimmauld Place wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of worn jeans it was obvious that Ron noticed the change as well. In fact his eyes kept drifting down to her shirt whenever she spoke to him. She was torn between feeling flustered that Ron would even look at her that way, smug that now she could compete with the likes of Hannah Abbot and Lavender Brown, and incensed that the redhead would think of her as if she was just a piece of meat. Unfortunately she didn't know which one she felt more so she ignored the matter. Besides, Harry didn't seem to notice so she figured that it was no big deal anyway.

"You're getting to be as crude as your brother," she said dismissively.

Ginny's smile instantly fell from her face and she looked like she was going to hit Hermione.

"Oh, so you're too good for my brother now, eh," Ginny accused.

"What?!"

Ginny paused, as if realizing all at once the horrible words that were coming out of her mouth. She jumped off of her bed and scuttled over to where Hermione was seated.

"Sorry Hermione," she apologized. "It's just this whole Harry thing is making me nutters. But I might as well accept it; a girl like me could never have a boy like that. Besides I should be used to getting things secondhand. Why not a boyfriend as well," she sighed dismally as she looked at the floor board. "I might as well settle for someone like Goyle or Neville," she snorted.

"Ginny," Hermione said reproachfully, "do you even know who Harry is? Harry doesn't give a fig about that kind of thing."

These words only seemed to make Ginny despondent. Hermione decided to change her tactics.

"If it makes you feel any better, this thing with Cho is just a passing fancy," she said, trying to cheer her friend up. "Harry will be over it in no time."

Ginny looked up at her suspiciously, "How do you know this?"

Hermione grinned back at her cheekily. "Because I know my Harry Potter."

Instead of finding what Hermione said funny Ginny seemed to mull over it seriously.

"Yes," she muttered. "Yes you do. There's probably no one who knows him better, even Ron."

Hermione blushed at the declaration.

"That's probably why he listens to everything you say."

She quirked a smile. "Harry? Listen to me?"

"Just look at today for instance. All of us had been trying to get Harry out of that room for hours. Then you show up and just like that he does."

For some reason Hermione did not like where this conversation was heading.

"Oh yeah," she snidely retorted, "just like that. Never mind the fact that my hair is still slightly singed from where it made the acquaintance of the patented Potter Death Glare."

Ginny ignored Hermione's denials.

"It's not surprising, is it? Harry has been relying on you since last year."

"Yes, when nearly the whole school ostracized him," she protested.

"In fact the amount of influence that you have over him is almost unsettling." Ginny began to twirl a lock of her hair lazily. "I bet you could convince Harry to do almost anything."

Hermione felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on in. She didn't care for the feverish light in Ginny's eyes or the intensity of her words. "And what would I convince Harry to do?"

"Well, I know you don't like Cho," Ginny began cautiously. Hermione began to protest, but Ginny stopped her. "Don't deny it. It's written clearly on your face. Now if you told Harry how you fee..."

"No," Hermione said in a low, steady voice.

"Hermione..."

"I said no! Even if I had the power to sway Harry's opinion, which I don't, I would never do something like that. I'm no fan of Chang, but if Harry wants Cho I want Cho for Harry. It's as simple as that."

Ginny's blue eyes began to well up with tears at Hermione's heated pronouncement. "If you wanted to Hermione you could help me get Harry," she claimed.

"Well maybe I don't want to," Hermione muttered to herself. Unfortunately for her Ginny heard every word.

The younger girl didn't say anything for a minute. She just scrutinized the brown haired girl as she sized up the situation before her. Then realization dawned on her.

"Hermione," Ginny began hesitantly, "You don't...you don't fancy Harry, do you?"

That tore it! Hermione pitched herself from the bed and went to her trunk. She began searching for her flannel pajamas, the ones with the yellow ducks on them. She couldn't explain why Ginny's question set her off. All she knew was that she wanted to remove herself as far away from the other girl as she could manage. As soon as she found the pajamas she turned around so that Ginny wasn't in her sight and she began pulling her clothes off of her and throwing them on the bed haphazardly. This was not at all like Hermione, neat freak extraordinaire, but she barely cared about how wrinkled her clothes would be in the morning. As she slid the pajama bottoms on and put the shirt on she tried to calm her nerves. But her hands shook as she tried to fasten the buttons.

"Hermione..." Ginny tentatively murmured as she got up from the bed and walked towards Hermione.

"You've found me out Ginny," she cried mockingly. "I'm in love with Harry! This whole thing with Ron had only been part of my nefarious plan to win Harry for myself. Aren't you so clever?"

"Look Hermione, I'm sorry. I really am. Of course I know that there is nothing between you and Harry." Hermione stopped the assault on the little buttons of her top to look at Ginny fully. She knew that what Ginny was saying was true; still she felt a small pang of sadness at the words.

"Nothing but friendship that is. I don't know what could have come over me to suggest something otherwise."

Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand and led her back to her bed. They both sat down on it, facing each other. Ginny continued to hold Hermione in her grip.

"I know how important that friendship is to you."

Hermione released the breath that she had no idea she had been holding. Her drumming heartbeat that had been pounding in her chest finally slowed to a livable pace. She began to relax at Ginny's calming, dulcet tones.

"But just think about it Hermione," Ginny continued, "Harry may have a girlfriend who doesn't understand the connection that you two have. Who might not like the fact that the person closest to Harry in the world is another girl. She might even try to cut you out, make Harry choose. You or Her, who do you think Harry would choose?"

Tears had been threatening to fall from Hermione's eyes, but she bravely held them back. Something in her told her that she didn't want Ginny to see how her words were affecting her. Was that it, Hermione wondered. Is that why I've been having such nasty thoughts about Cho? Do I think she would turn Harry against me? That line of thinking started to make a dull vague sense in Hermione's mind. She had been so used to being the only girl in Harry's life that now that she was going to be replaced, by a girlfriend of all things, her muddled feelings had started to surface. Hermione knew that a girlfriend would trump a best friend every time. So was Ginny right? Would Harry forget about her just to chase after some pretty face?

"But if I was Harry's girlfriend," Ginny said, intruding on Hermione's thoughts, "you wouldn't have to worry about that. None of that silliness would ever come up. Then you could be with Ron and I could have Harry." Ginny embraced Hermione in firm hug. "Then we could almost be like sisters," she said into Hermione's shoulder. "Wouldn't you like that? Wouldn't that be perfect?"

Hermione's skin began to crawl at the question. For some reason Ginny's idyllic portrait she painted sent waves of disquiet through Hermione's mind. Would she really like that, Hermione wondered.

"Well," Ginny said as her voice turned steely, "wouldn't it?"

"Of course," Hermione proclaimed in a wan voice.

Ginny pulled back from her and beamed a large smile at her.

"You'll help me then," she asked.

Hermione sighed resolutely. "I can give you advice; tell you what you need to know about Harry. But I am not going to break up Harry and Cho for you," she said, her voice razor sharp with defiance.

"That's fine, that's fine," Ginny replied quickly, too scared that Hermione would change her mind any minute.

"I know that with you helping me Hermione Harry will be sure to come around to me. You know everything after all."

Hermione smiled weakly. Yes she did. Hermione knew it all. If Ginny wanted Harry she knew just how to make it happen. Besides, it wasn't such a bad idea, was it? Ginny was the kind of girl she would want for Harry if she had to choose. Down to earth, good humored, sweet, with some intelligence to her. It also didn't hurt that the young girl had the makings of a great beauty some day. From the pictures Hermione had seen she even vaguely resembled Lily Potter. If Hermione had any trepidation with trying to help Ginny the inner romantic in Hermione quelled it. It would seem fitting that the Hero would finally find the girl of his dreams right beside him, the girl who had been pining away for him all along. It would be perfect. With that thought her mind was settled. She wanted Ginny for Harry.

It was just too bad for Hermione that she had yet to realize that she wanted him too.

Of course at the time she didn't know what she felt for Harry was the first flush of love, real love...the kind of love that seemed to possess you wholly and hold you in its grips 'til you were rung dry, because she thought it was the Weasleys' youngest boy she wanted. Hermione had felt the first romantic stirrings of her heart all at the tender age of 12. Draco Malfoy had called her a name, a horrible, horrible name and Ron had drawn his wand on the blonde boy to defend her. Of course the sensible part of Hermione's brain told her that she should have found such displays of testosterone vulgar and uncouth. But there was another side of Hermione, a side that she often camouflaged with her books and her big words that found the whole thing terribly dashing. That was the moment she was sure she had settled on what she wanted. It took five years for Ron to finally catch up to her, but when at last they became boyfriend and girlfriend Hermione was sure that everything was as it was supposed to be.

Then one night she awakened from a deep enchanted sleep where she dreamt of a man with dark hair that she loved and wanted above all things. Her heart quickened at his smiles. Her skin burned where he kissed it. In his arms she felt a bliss that made her want to laugh and cry...and cry and laugh and just...be. Hermione was sure she had never experienced such joy, such happiness in all her life. As she felt her conscious mind slowly ease its self from its dream state she tried to hold on to the thread of that other life, the life that she didn't want to leave, by the tips of her fingers. Instead it slipped effortlessly from her grip. But as her eyes slowly began to open she smiled a content, joyous smile. He had followed her out of her dream world and into the real one. Then her eyes focused clearly and Hermione realized that it was Harry. That it had been Harry all along.

Hermione wanted to die in that very moment. Hermione wanted to find some corner to squeeze herself into and just cease to be. Her mind felt like it couldn't deal with what she now knew to be true. Because she did know that the dream only told her the truth. She realized it as soon as she saw Harry's concern filled eyes staring down at her while they were the only two people in the Head Girl's suite. She did love him. She loved him with all that she had. It was that simple.

Except for the part where her boyfriend was probably somewhere near by.

And that's when Hermione began to cry.

The transferring of her affections from one best friend to the other had been so seamless that she hadn't even noticed the difference 'til it was too late. Just one day while her mind and her eyes had been doggedly looking towards Ron, her heart and her soul and turned to Harry. And that's where they remained. Even now that she was back home in England.

As Hermione made her way down the Burrow's staircase she had to wonder what folly had brought her back here. She was still in love with Harry, nothing had changed. Did she really think she could come back and pick up where she left off as though nothing happened? Did she really think she could go back to ignoring the plaintive longing of her heart whenever her thoughts turned to him? Did she really think this was a good idea? When she hugged him the night before she could feel the altogether kind heart and innate goodness that made Harry...Harry still there and she had to force herself to let him go. She made the decision then and there to try to avoid the special little hugs that they used to share at all costs. In Hermione's opinion it was like playing with fire. If she found herself in Harry's arms again she might not want to let go. How then could she possibly explain that? No, thought Hermione, shoulders set with resolve, the best thing for me to do is try to keep my distance from Harry as best I can. She was highly impressed with her plan, thinking that it would be a piece of cake. Then she neared the end of the staircase, looked up, and spied before her the very man whose very visage was imprinted on her soul.

Damn.

Harry was facing her in profile, his long onyx black hair lying past the collar of his dark scarlet robes. Hermione wondered at the weight of all of that hair and imagined for a second what it would feel like if it rubbed against her cheek. His shell pink lips were slightly opened, as if though she had caught him in the middle of a thought and as his tongue slipped out to capture some moisture along the ridge of his upper lip Hermione reached out an arm to clench the banister of the stairs. That was when she realized that this wouldn't be as easy as she suspected.

"Well hello there stranger," she said as she plastered on a bright, sunny smile and reached the bottom step of the stairs.

Harry turned in her direction and at the sight of her his emerald fire eyes seemed to dance. Hermione had to force one leg before the other in fear that she would go jelly legged any moment at the sight of him. She wanted to curse herself. Here he was excited to have her home, nothing more, and she was acting like an addled brained teen anger.

"H-Hermione, h-hello," he stammered out as he met her at the stairs.

"And what pray tell is a nice boy like you doing in a place like this," she shamelessly teased. Really how could she not when he just looked too delectable standing there, staring so innocently at his dear trusted friend. Bastard!

Harry seemed to miss the coquettish tone in her voice and bewilderedly asked, "Huh?"

Hermione sighed deeply. "It's almost one o'clock Harry. Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

She crossed from the stairs and fully entered the kitchen. Molly was bustling back and forth between the table and the stove while Hermione detected the scent of Eggs Florentine in the air, a favorite of hers. She turned to continue speaking to Harry and found that he had followed close behind her. Really a tad too close for her liking. They were practically nose and nose. Well...nose and chest. Nicely toned chest. Damned Auror robes were practically indecent if you asked her!

Hermione self-consciously took a step back.

"Not playing hooky, I hope," she asked.

Harry seemed to be just as embarrassed by the fleeting brushing of their bodies as she was because he seemed very flustered.

"Oh," he exclaimed. "Oh no, I'm...I'm not skiving work." His face relaxed into an easy smile. "I'll have you know that I am on official Department business."

"Right," Hermione wryly answered him as one of her eyebrows arched upwards. "And this departmental business has nothing to do with Molly's cooking I suppose?" By this time she and Harry had both made it to the table and were sitting down, Harry right next to her. A mug of black coffee sat before each of them.

Harry sent her a cocky grin that made her want to slap him and kiss him. Preferably at the same time.

"Bloke's got to eat. Besides, who could turn down Molly Weasley's Egg Florentine?"

Molly had just approached the table in time to hear Harry's praise, she clucked "You dear, dear boy". She then placed a plate of the egg dish of spinach and cheese in front of both of them. She patted Harry's head adoringly before placing a quick kiss at Hermione's temple.

"You two tuck in," she said as she turned to attend to some other matter. Harry did so gladly.

"Honestly Molly, you didn't have to go through all of this trouble for me," Hermione meekly said, knowing that any protest on her part would be useless.

Molly pointed her wand at the few dishes she had currently in the sink and they began to magically wash themselves.

"No trouble at all dear. I actually tried to wake you up earlier so you could eat with the rest of the family, but you put the pillow over your head and mumbled 'five more minutes mum'."

"Oh my," Hermione remarked, turning pink. Harry almost spit out his food, he was laughing so hard. Hermione sent him a nasty glare before turning back to Molly.

"Where are that adorable little Dash and his sister, Molly? I was hoping to get better acquainted with them. They're too young for day school, aren't they?"

"My yes," answered Molly. "But since Fleur had an appointment today with Healer Bones-Goldstein she decided to take the little ones with her. I told her to just leave them with me, but she said she wanted to give me a break for once. She's such a lovely girl that way."

Hermione bit on her lip to keep herself from smiling. There was once a time when Molly Weasley would have rather hexed Fleur Delacour so much as look at her. What a difference a happy marriage and four or five grandchildren make, Hermione couldn't help but think.

"Poor dear had to take a temporary leave from Gringotts. This last babe has been troubling her so. But such is a witch's lot in life," Molly added wistfully before returning to her chores.

Hermione was very proud of herself for not rolling her eyes at the woman's outdated words. She glanced over at Harry and saw that he was watching her and from the joshing glint in his eye probably knew exactly what she was thinking. She playfully stuck her tongue at him before she began to clear her plate.

"Harry..." Charlie began as he came bustling through the door that led from the parlor, but stopped as his eyes landed on Hermione.

"Oh, hello there Hermione," he greeted her. She said hello back to him and he focused his attention back to Harry.

"Well Harry I just sent Gerda a note. Last I heard from her she was still in Greenland chasing down a species thought to be extinct, the Snow dragon."

"The Snow dragon," Hermione gasped. "But I thought that it was just a myth."

Charlie smiled brightly at her, warming to his favorite subject. "So did I 'til Gerda found fragments of an egg that doesn't match any other known species on record near the Baffin Bay. Gerda wanted me to accompany her when she first set out, but I was still finishing my work in Sweden." He then turned back to Harry. "Anyhow, it might be a while 'til I hear from her again."

At these words Molly sent the muffin pan she had used to cook with crashing into the cupboard. She looked terribly cross as she faced her son. "Still writing to that Winkler woman, eh?"

"Mum," Charlie groaned as he rolled his eyes. "Sorry I couldn't be more help," he directed to Harry. "I'm just not that familiar with the dragons of the Americas, especially the Peruvian. But Gerda should be able to help you. There's nothing that Gerda doesn't know." he said matter-of-factly.

"Thanks Charlie," Harry replied. "I can't tell you how much this means," he said as he lifted up the mug of hot coffee and cautiously took a sip.

Hermione had no clue who this Winkler woman was, but by judging from Molly's reaction she was no friend of Mrs. Weasley. Molly began cursing hot epithets under her breath that always seemed to end or begin with the phrase 'that woman'. Molly stormed out of the kitchen and into the parlor. Charlie sheepishly smiled at the room's other two occupants before following after his mother to calm her down. Suddenly something began to snap into place for Hermione.

"That's right," she said as she turned towards Harry, "you did say that you had some big case you were working on. What's it about," she asked.

"Err..."

Harry had been doing that since she first met him. As much as it irritated her to no end, Hermione always thought Harry was at his cutest when he was at a loss for words. It also reminded her that no matter how much Harry aged, when you got right down to it, he was that same 11 year old boy she once knew. Thoughts like that always comforted her for some reason.

She looked at him over the rim of her cup. "Your case Harry, what's it about?"

It was obvious that Harry didn't want to discuss it with her for whatever reasons, but she didn't quite understand why he was so agitated about the whole thing.

"I...um...it's confidential," he just barely managed to spit out.

"Confidential? Really now Harry," she said as she smirked at him, "when did you start keeping secrets from your best friend?"

"Probably 'round the same time she started keeping them from me," he darkly muttered, eyes never leaving his plate.

She had only meant the statement as a joke, but Harry seemed to take it to heart and lashed out at her. Whoever said that words couldn't kill obviously left out the part where they sure as hell could maim you if given the chance.

"Oh..." she barely squeaked out. "I see."

For a second her eyes burned, but she fought down the urge to bawl her eyes out. Instead she pushed away from the table, her brunch half eaten, and walked over to the hearth where Crookshanks was stretched out. At the sight of her the stood up and she leaned down to scoop him up in her arms.

At least you still like me Crooks, she ruefully thought as she nuzzled her face to the cat and he purred affectionately back at her.

"Shit," Harry clumsily swore as he left the table and walked over to her, arms before him in supplication. "Hermione, I didn't mean for that to come out that way."

"And yet it did," she perfunctorily replied. She kept her back turned to him.

Harry dragged his hands through his longish hair in frustration. "Merlin Hermione, don't think that I'm not happy to have you back home," he said, a touch of aspiration in his voice. "I couldn't even begin to tell you how much."

Hermione turned to face him then, the plaintive tone of his words almost unnerving her.

"But...just exactly how long are we all supposed to pretend that you didn't run away?"

"I did not run away," she snapped furiously. "Children run away! I am not a child!" She brushed past him and sullenly made her way back to the table. She threw herself into her chair and rested Crookshanks in her lap.

"I know you're not a child," he remarked as he walked and stood over her. "Right now however you are acting like one."

"What do you want from me Harry," asked Hermione nastily as she cut her eyes away from him.

"I want to know why you left...us," he evenly replied. "I want to know why you stayed away for five years and didn't even bother to send us a note letting us know that you were still alive." Harry then dropped to his knees and forcefully turned her around to face him. Hermione however refused to meet his eyes.

"I want to know what you're hiding."

That statement got a reaction from her. She swiveled her head in his direction, her eyes widening, and mouth dropping open.

"You might still be smarter then me Hermione, but I'm not dumb," Harry plainly stated.

"Look Harry I..."

"...and if I ever lay eyes on that Winkler woman again there's no telling what I'll do," came Molly's voice, interrupting whatever Hermione could have said. Molly had her back turned as she re-entered the kitchen while Harry got up off the floor and took his seat again.

"We'll finish this later," he said as he leaned over and whispered the words in her ear sending chills down her neck. Hermione couldn't figure if it was from the proximity of his lips near her or the fact that she was scared as hell that he meant what he said. In either case Hermione strengthened her resolve not to get left alone with Harry any time soon.

"Harry, if you know what's good for you, stay away from that so called 'Dragon Huntress'," Molly disgustedly advised him. "She's nothing but trouble. All of those young boys...apprentices," she said sneering the last word, "calling her mother, disgusting! If she wanted a young boy to call her mum so bad she should have had one of her own." Molly plopped herself down in the chair on the opposite end facing Hermione. She seemed oblivious to the tension in the room between Harry and Hermione. Hermione wanted to keep it that way.

"Well," she said as she exaggeratedly looked at her watch, "as much as I would love to stay and chat I really should try to make some headway on finding somewhere to stay." She was about to place Crookshanks on the floor when she realized that she hadn't seen her dog since coming downstairs.

"Where's Lizzie," she asked Molly.

Molly practically beamed at her. It was obvious that the older woman had fallen under Lizzie's spell. Wherever Hermione took her people couldn't help but fall in love with her shaggy beast.

"That darling dog of yours met the acquaintance of a bumblebee and had the pleasure of chasing it around since dawn," Molly tittered. "Now I think she is just sunning herself."

Hermione left her seat to walk over to the kitchen window above the sink that faced the backyard. As she looked out of it she caught sight of the dog lazily rolling back and forth in the grass, her tongue hanging happily out of her mouth.

"Oh Lizzie," Hermione lovingly sighed.

"In fact she looked like she was having so much fun that the older children wanted to chase bumblebees all day as well," said Molly jovially as she joined Hermione at the window. "Arthur had to force them to go to school."

Hermione chuckled. "That's Lizzie for you. She's never met a butterfly...or a squirrel...or a frog for that matter that she didn't like." She turned to face Molly as she continued to pet Crookshanks. "By my house there was a duck pond that I just couldn't keep her out of. It seemed like I was forever trying to get rid of the scent of wet dog."

"Well she's a sweet girl."

It was at this point that Crookshanks obviously decided that he had enough of the admiring talk that centered around the dog. He jumped down from Hermione's arms and instead slinked his way over to Harry where he rubbed against his leg before being lifted onto his lap.

"Aww Crooks, I did miss you," Hermione insisted while stifling giggle. She had walked back over to the table and was standing next to Harry's chair. Crookshanks however moodily turned his head from her.

"That's right Crookshanks," said Harry as his eyes twinkled, "us men have to stick together."

"You're not helping," she said with false severity. Harry laughed.

"You know I would have never figured you for a dog person." he said.

"That makes two of us then," Hermione answered. "I didn't even think I liked them until I found her. Or I should say, until she found me. I was driving late one night when she ran out into the middle of the road. I almost lost control of my truck trying to avoid hitting her."

Molly turned away from the window to face the other two. "Did someone loose her?"

"That was my thinking at first. She had no license or registration on her, but she looked too well cared for and loved to be a stray. I took her home that night and instantly started looking for her owner. I put up signs, made calls, but nothing ever came of it, thankfully. It only took me a few weeks before I couldn't bear the thought of being parted from her. I've had her for 5 months now."

"What are you going to do about Crookshanks," asked Harry giving the cat a scratch behind the ears.

Hermione folded her arms and regarded her old pet for a moment. Of all of the situations she knew she had to deal with upon coming back a custody battle for her house cat had never entered the list.

"I don't know," she honestly answered. "I did miss him, yes I did," she said directly to the fur ball as she petted him lovingly, "however it seems a bit brutish of me to snatch him out of the arms of a little girl doesn't it? Then again Crooks could have already made his decision."

"What do you mean," Harry curiously pondered.

"Well...Crookshanks was my familiar, a witch's cat. When I decided to no longer be a witch he decided to no longer be my familiar," she carefully explained. "Of course you did jump the gun a bit old boy," she quipped as she scooted down to her heels and nuzzled her face to Crookshanks' face. She then pulled back and looked at Harry. "I could just be over reaching though and Crooks left to get away from my incessant snoring," she said in jest.

Harry's brow furrowed. "But you don't snore," he said innocently enough before realizing what a loaded statement it was. "I mean..." he mumbled, trying to fix his own mess, "I just remember that you don't. S-snore that is."

Hermione froze; too scared to look over her shoulder and see the peeved expression she knew had to be on Molly's face. Good job Harry, she waspishly fretted in her mind, just announce to your mother-in-law that you and I have been in a bed together before. And while you're at it mention the fact that her baby boy also came along for the ride. Old fashioned Molly would probably just love that. Probably mention it at the next family gathering...in Hell, Hermione mused.

Yes, well," Hermione said trying to change gears quickly, "I'm sure Ron's little one and myself will work something out eventually." She stood up. "But for now I must leave you Crooks. No decent landlord will have me if I show up with a cat and a dog. Probably think I'm running a petting zoo."

She turned to Molly finally. "Do you mind terribly watching Lizzie and Crookshanks Molly?"

Molly smiled and said, "Of course not dear. I'll be glad to."

Hermione sighed in relief as she smiled back at her in return.

"Oh," Molly chirped lightly, "here's a thought. It's already so late and I'm sure you aren't looking forward to the drive into London. Why don't you let Harry apparate you over and then he can keep you company. You two can catch up."

Oh God!

"Say, there's an idea," concurred Harry as a huge grin spread from his left to his right ear.

Yes, a bad idea. A very, very bad idea.

The last thing she needed was to be left alone with Harry. She might do something stupid like trip, fall on top of him, and snog him to death. Or if he kept hounding her she might just slug him one good time. By the scrutinizing look he was giving her Hermione figured that it was probably going to end up being the latter.

She tried to calm her nerves and retain her cheery outward exterior, but Molly's proposal had all but sent her screaming out of the room.

"Well as wonderful as that thought of yours was Molly, I'm sure Harry has more important things to do with his day then worry about me," she nervously said.

"Actually I don't," he replied as cool as a cucumber. He began to unzip his Auror robes to reveal a simple white dress shirt and a pair of black slacks underneath. Even when he dressed so plainly, to Hermione's mind he still looked ridiculously delicious. This just would not do, she thought to herself fearfully. She had to find a way to put him off the idea.

"But you have to work."

"I'm on an extended lunch break."

"Then you should see about your wife," she said, her voice edged in slight annoyance.

Harry dropped Crookshanks to the floor and leaned back in his chair as he said, "She's at the spa."

Molly clucked her tongue in disapproval as she began to clear the table of the few plates and cups on it. Either the woman was as thick as a post or she was blatantly ignoring the heated gazes that Harry and Hermione was sending each other. Hers read vexed. His said that he had her right where he wanted her.

Smug bastard thinks he knows why I don't want to be left with him.

"Listen," Harry began slowly, trying to ease Hermione into his idea, "I'll shrink your truck, we'll pop off in some back alley somewhere, and we can take it from there."

Hermione eyed him anxiously. It sounded easy enough, but when had anything ever been easy for her.

"Think of it this way; if the promise of my charming company isn't enough to sway you just think of all the quid you'll save on petrol."

Then he decided to play dirty with her. He flashed her a charming, white toothed smile.

"You know you want to say yes."

In truth she didn't really want to, but Hermione said yes any way.

~~**~~~~**~~~~**~~~~**~~

"Dwight Yoakam...Travis Tritt....Toby Keith?" Harry held up a cd case of a man in a cowboy hat with a sulky, disagreeable look on his face and showed it to Hermione. "Are these actually their real names?"

Hermione took her eyes off the road for a moment to look at what Harry was holding. She frowned.

"Keith? I thought I destroyed that one," she said bemusedly. "Well, no matter." She then pressed a button near her left arm. All of a sudden Harry's window came down, Hermione stretched her arm across to pluck the offending cd out of Harry's hand, and she unceremoniously threw it out the window.

"There," she said as she pressed the mysterious button again, this time sending his window back up and smiled at him triumphantly. "All better now."

Currently Hermione and Harry were in her truck pulling away from a bed-sit in Maida Vale. The place was too small for her liking and she didn't really care for the neighborhood. She had already seen several lovely 'crawl spaces' in Little Venice, Marylebone, and St John's Wood. Before she and Harry had set out on this little adventure she had already done her research, looking up rooms and flats to rent on her trusty laptop she took with her always. She really thought that finding a place to live in London would be easy. Every other place she had lived had practically fallen in her lap; she figured this time would be no different. The three bedroom in Diagon? The landlord had practically thrown the keys at Harry when word got out that the Savior of all Wizarding kind needed a place to live. He probably would have let her, Harry, and Ron live there free of charge if she hadn't negotiated a deal on the monthly fee, much to Ron's displeasure. The place in Brixton? Glinda had already been living there for three years when she invited Hermione to move in with her and split the rent. In Dallas she had gone from out one person's door and into another. But now she was faced with the very real difficulty of finding a place to call her very own that she could live in, live with, and most importantly afford. So far it was proving to be a daunting task. She had already run through all of the places she had check marked to see and she really didn't have any idea where she was going to go next. As she turned west on Elgin she decided to just keep driving until she hit...something.

Harry was looking at Hermione as though she had lost her mind.

"What? Don't look at me like that," she told him. "Those aren't my cds anyway," Hermione explained. "Despite loving Texas I never became enamored of Country and Western music. Or line dancing. Or football." She looked at him and smirked. "It's a rather beastly game, you'd probably love it."

He ignored her little crack. "If they aren't your cds who do they belong to?"

Hermione opened her mouth to answer him, but at that moment her mobile rang. She had left it in the truck the night before and when she and Harry had first started out she had seen that she had about 6 missed calls, three from the night before and three that morning. She picked the phone up and looked at the call screen. After seeing the same number of the previous calls she muted it and put it back down.

"Those are Collier's," she finally replied. "Poor thing is as blind as a bat, yet won't wear his glasses. After the fifth car accident he got his license revoked. Since I'm such a good friend I took pity on him and chauffeured him around whenever I could. Really great guy," she said as a small smile affixed its self to her lips. "Terrible taste in music. Those other disks are mine."

Harry reached into the glove compartment and pulled a few more cases out.

"Joshua Tree...Rio...Journey's Greatest Hits Collection..." Harry gave Hermione a bewildered look. "I don't bloody well know who these people are."

Hermione shook her head sternly. "And to think you were raised by muggles."

"Yes," Harry said drolly, "and they were so good to me, weren't they," he cracked.

Hermione tried her best not to smile, but failed. "Touché."

Once again Hermione's phone began ringing, but instead of answering it she took the Greatest Hits cd from Harry and while keeping only one hand on the wheel and one eye on the road she wrangled the disk into the truck's cd player. She then pushed a button repeatedly until she reached the song that she wanted.

"I didn't really discover this band until I got in the States, but I love them," she explained to Harry as the slow strains of a song began to play. "Number 12 is a classic."

Harry however didn't seem to share her opinion on music.

"Ugh," he groaned, scrunching up his nose. "You mean to tell me that muggles actually listen to this?"

"As if the Weird Sisters are any better," Hermione derisively scoffed.

"He sounds constipated," Harry said simply as he straightened his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

"I'll have you know that this was one of the greatest male vocalists of his day..." Hermione insisted to him passionately, "even if he did sound constipated."

Harry knew she was joking by the upturned left corner of her lips. This caused him to laugh out loud and her to follow him. Once their laughter died down Harry turned nervously towards her.

"So this friend of yours," he casually brought up. "Cauliflower is it?"

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Collier."

"Is he like that flat mate of yours, Ben...something...you were telling us about? I mean...when you say he's your friend, just how friendly do you mean?"

Once again Hermione rolled her eyes. She didn't even turn to look at Harry as she answered him.

"Are you asking me if Collie is gay or if he's seen me naked," she asked tartly. "You have to be more specific you see. Cause Benitez has seen me starkers numerous times and it never made a jot of difference really."

By the sound of silence that hung in the air one would have thought Hermione's answer had sent Harry into cardiac arrest. Hermione quickly glanced in his direction to check if he was still breathing and met his annoyed green eyed stare.

"You're teasing me."

A smile curled its self on her lips.

"Harry Potter gets a gold star."

Harry looked like he was going to have some choice words for her. But then her mobile rang again. He looked between her and the phone sitting in one of the cup holders and asked, "Aren't you going to answer that?"

Hermione shook her head no. "It's a wrong number. Let's see if I turn it off if they will get the message," she said as she did just that. After a few minutes she finally came to a stop as she parked the truck. Hermione shut the engine off, took her keys out the ignition and tossed them into her purse, and without a word to Harry opened her door and proceeded to climb out of the vehicle. Harry hadn't even realized that Hermione had a destination in mind when she started driving, but as she took determined strides around the front of the truck she approached the cobbled lane that led into a cul-de-sac. This was about the time that Harry finally lost his patience with her. He jumped out of the passenger side and before Hermione could get passed him he grabbed her upper arm to stop her progress.

"What the hell do you think you're doing Harry," she snapped at him irately. "Let me go!" She tried to shake him of his grip on her. What Hermione hadn't realized was that she was now dealing with a Harry Potter who'd had years of intensive physical training as part of the process that made him an Auror.

"I'll let you go after we talk."

"Harry not now," she pleaded.

"Yes now," he said in answer. "I'm not going to let you put this off any longer."

Seeing the determined look in his eyes, Hermione decided that it was in her best interest not to struggle anymore. It would be pointless. Instead she relaxed herself in Harry's grip and turned to face him. He instantly let her go allowing her to cross her arms before her in a belligerent, closed off manner.

Thinking he was making progress Harry's gaze softened as he looked at her.

"Why did you leave?"

"I told you all last night I..."

"I don't mean all of that nonsense you were spouting about castles and what not," he snapped. "You didn't take off like a thief in the night just so you could see some crumbling old rubble in France somewhere."

Hermione's eyes started flashing and she started sputtering indignantly.

"Are you calling me a liar?" she demanded.

"Yes." Harry didn't even blink as he said it. "Yes I am."

Well that did it! How dare he say something like that to her? Of all the nerve! To actually accuse her of lying! Never mind the fact that it was true, that was beside the point! When the hell did Mr. Oblivious catch a clue? Hermione didn't like this brand new development one bit. She turned to walk away from him but Harry grabbed her wrist and forced her around to face him. She opened her mouth to protest when all of a sudden she stopped. She felt her vision go hazy. His eyes seemed to pin her in place, but she barely had time to notice their queer luster as images started to come at her at lightning speed. She would have asked who was turning on and off the sunlight, because that was almost what it felt like, but she was far too busy watching her life flash before her eyes. Literally!

She was 8 years old and a crowd of jeering children were surrounding her, pointing and laughing...She was 12 and she looked up in wonder at a black haired boy, no older then herself, holding on for dear life to a Troll as though if he were riding a bronco...She had just innocently entered the Common Room only to see Ron's lips melded with Lavender Brown's...Harry had found her where she was hiding and was trying to comfort her...Harry was holding her hands as they stood before 2 black coffins...Harry was staring straight at Ginny while Hermione stood behind her, dressed in her pink silken Maid of Honour robes. Rufus Scrimgeour had just asked if there was anyone who objected to the union...

Hermione pushed Harry forcefully away from her. Her whole body felt as though it were about to overheat. Her complexion had taken on an angry red flush. She turned away from him and stormed her way down the cul-de-sac, passing the row of large semi detached houses. Of course Harry came following after. He easily caught up and trotted along side her.

"Legilimency Harry?!! You bloody well tried to break into my mind?!!" She turned on him, nostrils flaring. "When the fuck did you even learn how to do that?!!"

Although she was furious that Harry had actually tried to secretly and sneakily probe her thoughts, she couldn't stop the ghost of the old Hermione from rising up. She was simply amazed that Harry was a Legilimens now! Back during the war he was still having trouble blocking his own thoughts, much less even thinking about looking into those that belonged to other people. But now here he was, obviously gifted in the craft and using it on her. And without a wand no less! She had been used to seeing Harry do bits of wandless magic, but usually only in emergency situations. Obviously he found that this was one of them.

"I've picked up some new tricks since you've been gone," he answered simply. "I rarely do it. Not even with suspects, but it does come in handy every now and then.

"Aren't you talented," she sneered crankily. "Look, I don't know who you think you are Harry Potter, but I've been away too long just to come back here and allow you to treat me as if I were some common criminal," she fumed as she raised an accusatory finger at him. She could only imagine the spectacle they were making in front of the people who lived in the quiet niche.

"I don't care how long you were gone or even where you went! I don't care who you bloody well saw while you were there! I don't!"

He grabbed the hand that was pointing towards him, eased the palm of his hand along the underside of her bicep, and pulled her closer to him. Hermione felt her pulse rate go into over drive at the simple, yet intimate feel of this move. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm her nerves.

"But I do care that you went away and didn't even bother to tell me why. I care that you've been keeping secrets from your best friend. That you still are keeping secrets from your best friend. I'm sorry that I did what I did, but how else am I going to get you to tell me the truth?"

Harry hadn't let go his grip on her. More then anything she wished that he would just let her go.

"I have no secrets," she retorted high handedly as she looked at him fully. "I am an open book."

Harry snorted at the remark.

"Why did you and Ron pretend to still be together back then?"

She forcefully removed herself from Harry's strong hold as she said, "At the time I didn't want to burden you with Ron and my problems."

"Burden me," he exclaimed as though astounded that she would even say something as simple minded. "After everything we've been through together? Burden me? How could you ever be a burden to me?! I lo..."

Hermione had been facing away from Harry, but turned her head and stared directly in his eyes. He had been saying something and choked on his words. This wasn't so surprising; Harry had never been what one could call smooth when it came to getting his point across. Still, something in his tone had stopped Hermione short. For that matter his face had gone a rather deathly pale shade. The way his eye bulged in terror made her stomach clench in fear. She felt herself effortlessly slip back into her old role of protector of all things Potter.

"'I'...what Harry," she said as she grabbed onto him, searching his face for signs of whatever was bothering him. "You...what? Are you alright? What's wrong? What were you about to say Harry?"

He swallowed hard.

"I looked for you," he croaked nervously as the coloring came back into his face. "Me and Ron. We looked for you everywhere," said Harry, diverting his attention to the ground as though he found his boots fascinating objects of wonder. "But you didn't take any of the job offers you had." He caught her eye again. "I didn't even know you had job offers. Why didn't you tell me you had been planning to move away," he asked her, almost petulantly.

Because you would have talked me out of it, Hermione thought to herself sadly. She turned her head to avoid Harry's gaze.

"You were already so busy," she answered. "With Ginny...and all." She didn't notice the way he seemed to flinch at the mention of his wife's name.

"Why didn't you take any of those jobs?"

Because you would have found me and brought me back.

"Changed my mind I guess," she whispered.

Harry tenderly placed both of his hands on her shoulders and brought her around to face him. The pained look on his face was almost enough to reduce her to a weeping mess. It tore her up inside to do this to Harry, to keep from him the answers he was practically begging her for. In truth she had been doing this to him for years. Desperately trying to keep him at a distance, for fear that he would see...something in her eyes when she would have given anything to be the one always at his side. Pretending to be happy because it made him happy while smiling broadly in his face when it was all she could do not to throw herself in his arms and confess what truly resided in her heart. But she knew she couldn't tell him this, no matter how many questions he asked. The funny thing was that there had once been a time when she would have denied Harry Potter nothing. But seven long years of practice had skilled Hermione in the craft of artifice and half truths well.

"What can I say Harry," she sighed wistfully, "I was tired. I was tired of being me. I was tired of trying to be everything to everybody. It started to feel like everyone wanted things from me that I felt at the time I couldn't give. Not then at least. Ron wanted a wife, Molly and Arthur wanted a new daughter. The Ministry wanted a loyal and faithful little worker bee. It started to be almost too much for me."

"But that doesn't make sense Hermione," Harry countered, looking very confused by all that Hermione was telling him. "You and Ron had already broken up. Molly and Arthur already considered you one of their own. And you were leaving the Ministry."

"Yes," she agreed, "but it felt like what I was just moving towards more of the same. The Minister in Marrakesh thought he was getting a...a...super hero or something. Hermione Granger, co-defender of the Magical World, Right Hand to the Man who Triumphed, Greatest Witch of her Age. They wanted a trophy, they didn't want me. And that was about the time I started wondering, was that all I was? Was that all Hermione Granger was? Just some witch?

Harry was so abashed by these words that he dropped his hands from her. "Just some witch?! Hermione..."

"Haven't you ever made choices Harry," Hermione asked, cutting him off. "Choices that you made at the time because they seemed to be right, but later realized were so wrong? Choices that you felt that you couldn't live with now, but you knew you had to? Choices that you wished, for the entire world, you could take back, but you knew you couldn't?"

"Yes," he whispered in a low, strangled voice.

"Well, Hermione Granger did to. So one day, I decided I just didn't want to be her anymore." Hermione wrapped her arms around herself and began to slowly walk forward as Harry followed next to her. Her eyes stared straight ahead. "Nearly a decade of my life had been devoted to being a witch. And at first it brought me so much happiness." She turned her eyes towards him. "It brought me you and Ron. But then...but then something happened and I could no longer pretend to fill the role that had been meted to me."

She stopped her progress and turned to face him fully. "You must have known I was unhappy for a long time Harry."

She didn't say it as a question, but he answered with a shaky nod of his head, up and down.

"I decided that being in this world; your world was never going to make me happy. I could never have the things that I wanted. So I decided to just chuck it all and find my happiness else where."

Harry's eyes began to water and Hermione had to stop herself from telling him that she took it back. That she took it all back. That she didn't mean to say it. Not if it made him so unhappy to hear. But her tongue could not seem to form the words.

"And did you find it? Your happiness, did you find it," he sadly asked.

"For awhile," she said as she grabbed one of his hands. "And then I started missing you and Ron frightfully. I would be out somewhere and hear a deep belly laugh nearby. I would turn around praying to see a redhead there and feel my heart sink because it wasn't him. Whenever I saw a man with green eyes I would almost start to cry because they weren't yours."

Harry brought her hand holding his up and kissed it gently. She felt her whole body involuntarily shiver and drew her hand back quickly so he wouldn't notice.

"That's when I knew that I had to come home," she explained while ignoring the sad expression on his face. "But you see I was so scared. It had been so dreadful of me to just leave the way I did. I started to convince myself that you all didn't want me back, that you had moved on without me. And then I saw Ron's announcement in the paper. And somehow, I just knew that it was time to come home. I had to come back for Ron."

Although Hermione didn't know it, those words, however innocently they were meant sent daggers through Harry's heart.

"So do you understand now why I did what I did? And why I mentioned none of this last night with all the Weasleys around? Even just a little?"

There, nothing she had told him had been lies. Of course nothing she told him was the whole truth either.

"I...uh, I guess," he responded, his voice constrained. "But Hermione, you said that you felt that everyone wanted things from you. What...what did I want from you?"

Hermione stared into Harry's nervous, apprehensive gaze and tried to smile. Tried and failed.

"Nothing. You wanted nothing from me." And that was the one thing she had said all day that was completely true.

"But because I had to leave Hermione behind, I had to leave you behind as well. And I'm sorry Harry, I'm so sorry. It wasn't fair to you. But at the time I felt that it was what I had to do. Can you ever forgive me?"

Once again she felt the irresistible urge to just throw herself at Harry and cry in his arms rear up again. But this time she refused to fight it. She tentatively stepped closer to him and encircled her arms around him, pressing her face into his firm chest. She heard the unmistakably rhythms of his heartbeat pound furiously at his ribcage and felt, rather then heard his quick intake of breath. Please forgive me Harry, please, she begged in her head. She had no idea what she would do if he didn't. Was he still mad at her? Did he hate her for what she did? Did he no longer want to be her friend? All the way on her journey from Cyprus Hermione decided that even if she couldn't be with Harry, she could still stand beside him. She could still be his friend. Even playing that small role delegated to her was better then having no part of Harry in her life at all. It had taken her five years to accept this fact. But Harry's minute hesitation almost killed the slim ray of hope inside her that had carried her back home. She was about to fall into despair when she felt a set of strong arms snake around her waist and pull her tightly against him. She felt the almost undetectable feel of lips pressing themselves in her hair and that's when she knew that all was forgiven. He didn't even have to say the words.

They stood there, just holding on to each other, in the middle of the cul-de-sac for a few minutes. Maybe hours. Time was irrelevant. They were just Harry and Hermione again. An old, gray haired grandmother happened to peek out of the window of the house they had been standing in front of. She smiled at the couple. She remembered a time when she had been so hopelessly in love as these two before her were. She briefly wondered if they were going to buy the house for sale at the end of the row, before closing her shades and giving the two young people their privacy. A little boy on his way home from school passed them and pulled a face. Probably going to kiss or something, he disgustedly thought as he hurried pass them to avoid seeing such a gross display. To everything going on around them, Harry and Hermione were oblivious. Then Harry opened his eyes slowly and actually took a good look around him for the first time.

"Um...Hermione, why does everything look so familiar here," he asked as he took in the sight of all of the houses around him. "Why do I feel like I've been here before?"

Hermione pulled back from him and giggled girlishly. "Silly, that's because you have." She took one of his hands in her own and began to walk up the path with him. She pointed a short distance in front of them. "Right there is where Draco Malfoy almost knocked you silly and you almost flattened his nose."

At her words realization began to wash slowly over his features. "He should have let me. It would have made a vast improvement," he smirked.

Hermione playfully rolled her eyes and ignored his statement.

"You see that lamp post," she asked as she pointed to the end of the path. "It has a dent in it courtesy of the bicycle I got for my sixth birthday. I had begged and badgered my dad to take the training wheels off the bike, although I was no good on it even with the damned things on. Dad tried to warn me that I wasn't ready, but I was a determined little thing. As soon as he let me go I went careening into the dratted poll."

Harry seemed to find her story amusing. He wore a large grin as he said, "Sounds like an epic battle. Who won?"

Hermione smiled triumphantly as she lifted up her left elbow and pointed at it. "Lamp post 1, elbow 12 stitches."

Hermione and Harry came to a halt in front of a beautiful, three story mock Victorian. Hermione stared at it, a soft little smile gracing her lips.

"Now that house," she said as she lifted a finger to point it out to Harry, "in that house lived one Eustace Youngfellow. He took me out on my very first date. We went to the cinema."

Harry scowled. "And I'm just hearing about this?"

"Well big brother, it's a bit late to do anything about it now. Besides, I was 17, it was Christmas break, and you and Ron were nowhere around." Hermione folded her arm in Harry's and continued on her way as she spoke on.

"We went to see...bother...I can't remember what we went to see," she said as she gnawed on her lip. "Something with aliens...and guns...and lots of things getting blown up. A simply dreadful movie. Eustace was a perfect gentleman though and he was even kind enough to have red hair."

Harry made a coughing noise that made Hermione roll her eyes. "Look, I had just watched Ron slobber all over Lavender on the train and I wanted my own pound of flesh. I was miserable company, but Eustace asked if he could take me out again the next time I came home in June. I said yes. Then he died that May." Harry's steps faltered as he turned his head to look at her.

"Drunk driver," was all she said in answer.

She came to a stop in front of a three story house that looked like it bore a new coat of paint. A sign stood in front of the house, noting that it was for sale. Hermione knew that the five bedroom dream house would fetch a pretty penny on the market. It had when she sold it.

"And this was my house," she said as a lonely tear cascaded down her cheek. Hermione however was so entranced at being back at her childhood home that she paid it no heed. "Did you know I picked it out myself," she asked a proud lift to her chin. "We lived in Sunnighill before this, but when mum and dad moved the practice they wanted something closer to the office. Whenever the Realtor would take them out to look at houses I always came along. 'Let's let Hermione Jane decided', dad would say. The agent probably thought my parents were completely barmy, letting a 4 year old make a decision like that, but the poor chap held his tongue. We looked at houses everywhere; Kensington, Knightsbridge, Pimlico. Then we saw this one. As soon as I entered the corner bedroom on the first floor I turned to my mother and said 'can this one be my room mummy'. Dad made an offer for it that very day."

She paused as she gazed longingly at the house. The smile that was on Hermione's face was so heart achingly beautiful that it rendered Harry speechless for a moment.

"I know this house like a mother knows the face of her own child," she affectionately stated. "My mum's study was on the ground floor, next to the kitchen so she could smell it if her food was burning."

"So that's where you got it from."

"Prat," she said as she smacked him jovially on his arm.

"She had a loose floor board in her office and that's where she would hide our gifts. Of course dad and I knew about it, but we never ever peeked."

Tears began to slowly tread down her face. "On Saturday night's we would play Scrabble in the dinning room or watch one of my mum's old movies in the lounge. Dad always wanted to watch something silly like Our Man Flint, but got voted down every time," she snickered as she wiped half heartedly at her eyes.

"Every few months dad would get out his old penknife to mark out how tall I was growing in the kitchen door frame. And on some mornings, though I would have just been measured the day before, I would jump into my parents' bed and shout 'daddy, I dreamt I grew a whole inch in my sleep'. And while laughing all the way he would march me downstairs, line me up next to that frame and exclaim, 'my oh my Hermione Jane, I think you did'. Of course he was lying, but he had already told me whoppers about Father Christmas and where babies came from so really what was one more? So then he would pull out his penknife and mark out the new, suspect inch for posterity and ask me, 'Hermione Jane, how did you manage that'. And I would say, 'magic daddy...I used magic'."

"You know Hermione; I think this is the most I've heard you talk about your parents since they died."

"It probably is," she said as she reached into her handbag and pulled out a handkerchief. She dabbed at her eyes and rubbed her red and runny nose as she tried to regain her composure.

"I guess I felt that the less I talked about them, the less guilt I would feel. Faulty logic to be sure," she added as she placed the hankie back in her purse, "but I was grieving so it made sense at the time."

"Guilty," questioned Harry, baffled at the quick flash of emotions she seemed to have cycled through in such a short time. Now her words seemed remote. Dispassionate. "Why would you have felt guilty?"

Hermione looked away from Harry's penetrating stare. Instead she turned her eyes to the cobbled path.

"I killed my parents Harry. I'm the reason they died."

"Hermione, you aren't making sense. Your parents died in a car accident on their way to a seminar in Edinburgh. You were no where near there at the time." He placed his hands lovingly on the sides of her face and brought it up so he could look into her eyes. Hermione closed her eyes to avoid his gaze.

"How could it possibly be your fault that they died?"

Hermione's eyes slowly opened as she asked him a simple question.

"Do you remember Amycus Carrows?"

To Be Continued...

A/N: Don't hate me! This one really got away from me. I knew it was going to be long, but I never dreamed that I was actual going to have to do a part A and B. But seriously, Hermione has so much stuff going on with her that it had to be this way. I did offer to put her back in the magical coma though. Would have made things so much easier. :)

So I hope to have part B up in two weeks. It's going to be mainly a flashback of the night that they rescued Boadicea with some H/Hr goodness on the side. It picks right up from where Harry's flashback in the last chapter left off. The good news? It's already written. The bad news? It's written in a composition book. And I type slooooooooow. Please be patient with me. I am trying. I'm just really not used to having no free time at all so when I do get some the last place I want to be is sitting in front of my computer. But I am trying. As I mentioned above I came home one night and typed until 5 in the morning. That is how much I want to finish this story. I hope you liked it. I know you have questions. You're supposed to have questions. If something seems odd and slightly off, that's because it's supposed to seem odd and slightly off. Heh. As I've said time and and time again everything is for a reason. And don't think that now that she is home everything is going to get tied up with a bow real quickly. As I mentioned before we are now entering phase2 of the story and boy do I have stuff planed! ;^)

Tell me if you like it. Tell me if you hate it. Just tell me something. Please review.