A/N: Yes, I'm still here. And no, I did not forget about this story. I actually started writing this part not long after I posted the first, and I don't know what happen. School got really intense, and I got stressed out quickly. I had some personal problems, and I guess I just got really busy. Furthermore, I had some trouble getting the conversation between Hermione and Beatrice in the first half of this chapter to run smoothly. But, there is really no excuse for not getting this out quicker, and you have no idea how sorry I am. I promise to try harder to get the future installments out.
Rating: PG (for now, will probably go up in future chapters though.)
Disclaimer: I do not own anything here, except my character Beatrice. (Though, I got the name from one of my friends, so I guess I don't own her either lol) Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling.
A/N: Enjoy! And Happy Holidays to everyone!
***
Hermione landed with a thud on a cold, hard surface. Afraid to find out where she had been transported to, she opted to keep her eyes tightly shut.
"Hermione?" a faint, but familiar voice questioned. "Are you okay?" a rustling sound indicated that someone was moving towards her.
Silent, Hermione tried to process in her frightened mind who the voice belonged to. With a start, she realized it was Beatrice.
Hermione's eyes flew open. Carefully, she moved them around, taking in her surroundings slowly. She was quite surprised to realize that she was still in her office.
"Hermione?" Beatrice reiterated. Hermione's eyes moved in her direction to find a puzzled look on her face.
"Yeah," Hermione said. "I'm okay, at least I think."
Beatrice chuckled. "Well, that's good to know, because you looked pretty scared a second ago.
"Well, of course," it was Hermione's turn to laugh. "I doubt you would be calm if when you touched something, you suddenly felt as if you were falling somewhere."
Confusion became evident on Beatrice's face. "What are you talking about?"
"When I touched the blue stone, just now," Hermione frowned. "All of that light appeared and everything."
Beatrice raised one dark eyebrow. "What?"
Hermione became frustrated. "Oh c'mon, I know your short term memory isn't this bad. Surely you remember yourself screaming and calling my name."
Beatrice slowly shook her head. "Hermione, I seriously have no idea what you're talking about. All I know is that one minute you're fine and the next you suddenly look as if you're in serious pain."
"But…" Hermione frowned again. She looked down at her desk at the stone. It looked exactly as it had before she touched it. Bracing herself, Hermione reached out her right hand towards the stone until her finger was a centimeter away from it. Cautiously, she placed her finger upon it.
Nothing happened.
Hermione cocked her head to the side. "That's really odd."
"What is?" Beatrice asked with a hint of exasperation in her voice.
"Nothing," Hermione shook her head, deciding to shake it off before her co-worker decided to send her to the asylum ward at St. Mungo's since obviously whatever Hermione had just experienced had not been witnessed by Beatrice.
"Okay," Beatrice said hesitantly. "If you're sure."
Hermione nodded and looked down at her desk again. She would definitely have to do some research on this stone.
Before she could get too involved, however, a wave of nausea passed over Hermione. She tried to ignore it at first, but it soon became too strong to handle.
"Not again," Hermione clasped a hand to her mouth as she got up and raced to the wastebasket near the door. Quickly, her small breakfast from that morning came out. When she finished, she lifted her head, panting, to find Beatrice was holding her long curls back from her face.
"Thanks," Hermione whispered when she had caught her breath.
"Hermione," Beatrice looked down at her assistant with concern. "I really think you should go home and rest."
"I…" Hermione started, but decided there was no point denying it. "You're right. Thanks."
***
Twenty minutes later found Hermione walking home with her hands in her pockets. Normally, she would have apparated, but she had too much on her mind to concentrate.
What was frustrating her the most was the mystery revolving around the blue stone. What had it done to her? And why had Beatrice not experienced the same light and noise she had?
Shaking her head with a slight growl, Hermione tried her best to forget about it, for now. Looking up, she realized that she was very close to her and Harry's house, for she could see it standing in the distance.
A few moments later, a tired and stressed Hermione walked up the front stairs. Opening up her purse, she fished around for her key. When she found the desired item, she proceeded to turn it in the lock, only to find that it wouldn't fit.
"What the…" Hermione said, confused, as she wiggled it around, to try to get it to go in. Frowning, she took it out to quickly make sure it was the right key. Knowing it was, she jammed it in the lock again.
"Why isn't this bloody working," Hermione hissed through gritted teeth, not caring if she was using profanity. "Why isn't this bloody key going in its bloody hole?"
Suddenly, before she had the chance to utter another word, the door swung open. Startled, Hermione looked up to see a puzzled Harry, wearing only red boxers and a white T-shirt.
"Hermione?" Harry looked at his friend curiously. "What's the matter?"
"It's this key!" Hermione briskly walked past him into the living room, figuring his question referred to the rattling of the door he must have just heard. "It won't fit into the lock!"
Harry chuckled, albeit still looking confused. "Well, I should hope it wouldn't."
Now it was Hermione's turn to look perplexed. "What are you talking about? And, hang on, why aren't you at work?"
"First of all," Harry started. "I thought you knew I always had Tuesdays off." He paused when he noticed Hermione's confusion deepen.
"Since when?" Hermione shook her head.
"Since forever," Harry decided to go on with his explanation, despite the fact that he had never seen Hermione look so puzzled in her life. "And second of all, I've never given you a key to my house."
Hermione blinked slowly. Clearly, she hadn't heard him right. But, just as she was going to ask him to clarify what he just said, a new voice sounded.
"Harry, darling, what's going on?" Hermione turned to see a familiar red-head standing in the living room doorway, dressed only in a long white shirt.
"Ginny?" Hermione frantically looked between the two of them, and observed their lack of clothes. She turned fully towards Harry again, and allowed anger to creep into her voice. "Harry, what's going on here?"
Harry peered at her through his wire-rimmed glasses. "Hermione, are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine!" Hermione yelled. "What I want to know is why Ginny is in our house, and why the two
of you appear to have engaged in certain intimate activates!"
Ginny gasped and Harry looked at her wide eyes.
"Hermione," Harry started. "This house is not our house, seeing as it belongs to Ginny and I. And I don't see why it would be wrong if she and I acted intimately towards one another, seeing as we are married."
"What?" Hermione stepped back in shock.
"Hermione, Ginny's my wife," Harry said.
And with that, Hermione promptly fainted.
***
A/N: Well, here you go: the second part to Not My World. Again, I apologize for taking so long to get it out, and I will honestly try to get the next part up as quickly as I possibly can. Also, sorry it's short, but it was necessary.
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