Not My World

A/N: Okay, I am going to again attempt to write a multi-chaptered fic. Hopefully, this fic won't turn into another “By Spring.” But, I'm definitely more into this one: I have the whole story mapped out in my head, unlike the other one. Plus, I've had this story idea in my head since March or April, which has given me time to really think about it. I only had the first two or three chapters planned with “By Spring” and I didn't even really like it that much. Plus, I started it just before Half-Blood-Prince came out, and well, we all know what happened with that book.

But, I love how this story is going in my head, and I hope anyone who reads it will enjoy it!

Full Summery: One day, while at work in the Department of Mysteries, Hermione Potter stumbles upon an unknown artifact. Moving close to it while examining it, she realizes that it is pulling her closer to it. When she comes in contact with it, she finds herself being transported to a world that seems identical to the one she lives in…except for one major difference: Ginny Weasley is Harry Potter's wife!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything here. J.K. Rowling does!

Rating: PG (for now. May go up later on; not sure.)

~*~Prologue~*~

***

“Harry!” 20-year-old Hermione Jane Potter called. “Have you seen my purse?”

Hermione was currently running frantically through her and Harry's house, trying to find everything she needed for work. Usually, she was extremely organized and never needed her husband's help at finding anything, but this morning, she was running terribly late.

“It's on your bureau,” Harry answered calmly from their bedroom. Hermione raced into the room where she snatched up the black bag.

“Thanks,” Hermione said, practically out-of-breath.

“Honey, are you sure you're okay?” Harry asked with concern written all over his face.

“I'm fine,” Hermione stated firmly. “It was just a little bug or something.” She was, of course, referring to her sudden sickness that had occurred earlier that morning. It was the reason, actually, that she was now late.

“But you did the exact same thing yesterday,” Harry countered.

“But yesterday, as I assure you will be the case today, I was fine the rest of the day,” Hermione said in exasperation.

“But…” Harry tried to formulate yet another argument, but he was cut off by his wife.

“Harry, I'm really sorry, but I've got to get going. I'm fine, honestly. Don't worry.”

“Well, if you're sure,” Harry got up from the bed he was sitting on and moved closer to Hermione. He slowly wrapped his arms around her and settled in for a good-bye kiss. When the two broke apart a moment later, they were both nearly out of breath.

“Thanks, love,” Hermione smiled. “I needed that.”

“I know,” Harry rested his forehead against hers. “Have a nice day at work.”

“You, too,” Hermione grinned as Harry untangled himself from her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Hermione gave Harry one last kiss quickly before she rushed out of the room and towards the front door. She exited it and walked to the end of the driveway, where she quickly apparated to the Ministry of Magic.

***

Hermione worked in the Department of Mysteries, as an Unspeakable. Her job mainly revolved around mysterious and unidentifiable objects. If an object of this type came into possession of the Ministry, it would immediately be given to Hermione, or her co-worker, Beatrice Cuthbert. The two of them would then proceed to figure out the meaning, or use, of the object. If it was deemed safe and useful, it would be given to another department of the Ministry that would benefit from it. If it was believed to hold dark magic, further mysteries, or just did not have any real uses, but was still worth keeping, it would be moved to a special closet in the Department of Mysteries that was located in one of the eerie rooms.

Having this job was often considered dangerous. Harry, in fact, had even at one point begged her not to take up the position. For, what if one of the objects would hurt or even kill her? Beatrice and Hermione, though, were extremely careful and placed many charms and protections on themselves before they set off to work. They never directly touched any objects until after they figured out they were safe. Ministry workers, too, did not make any direct contact with the objects while bringing them to the Department of Mysteries.

Overall, Hermione really enjoyed her job. To her, it was like working on a giant jig-saw puzzle, and she absolutely loved the research that went with it. (Plus, working in the Ministry had its benefits. For, Harry, too worked there: he was an auror. And since he often had work to do in the office, well, let's just say both of them looked forward to their free periods.)

Usually, Hermione got to work fairly early and had time to eat a quick breakfast, do some reading, or talk to the friends she had made in the Ministry. But today, she found herself practically running through the halls on her way to her department. She didn't even have any time to place any protective charms on herself, which she usually did before she even entered the Department of Mysteries.

When she got there, Hermione seemed to fly into the office she shared with Beatrice. Panting, and feeling slightly queasy again, she collapsed into the nearest chair, which luckily was her own desk chair.

“Hermione, are you okay?” Beatrice, who had only gotten there ten minutes ago, inquired.

“Yes, yes, I'm fine,” Hermione tried to regain her breath. “Just running a little late, that's all.”

Beatrice couldn't help but let out a little laugh. “Hermione, your definition of `late' is most people's definition of `on time.'”

Hermione let a small smile grace her features as she glanced at the clock, to see that she, in fact, was barely a minute late. “Well, I guess you're right.”

Beatrice laughed and walked back to her desk. “So, may I ask why you were running late this morning? Does it have anything to do with your gorgeous husband?” Beatrice winked.

Hermione chuckled. “Actually, it doesn't. I got sick when I woke up. As I did the day before. But I'm fine now.”

“Oh?” Beatrice looked surprised, but suddenly had a smirk on her face. “Really?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied, confused. Why was Beatrice acting as if she knew something Hermione didn't?

Hermione abruptly turned around in her chair so that she was facing her desk. She noticed that there was a glittering blue stone, about the size of a fist, in the center.

“Oh, what's this?” Hermione asked as she moved her head slightly closer.

“It just arrived today,” Beatrice said in a serious voice. “It was sent by Kevin McLaughlin, you know, from the Department of International Magical Co-operation. Supposedly it came from Indonesia.

“Hmmm, it looks quite interesting,” Hermione watched as a variety of colors surfaced where the light hit it.

“Yes, I'm sure it will be fascinating to work on,” Beatrice frowned as she noticed that the blue stone was now emitting a reddish aura. “Hermione, I wouldn't get any closer.”

“I know,” Hermione said. She, too, had noticed the glow. In fact, it almost felt as something else was surrounding it. Actually, the air almost felt like a vacuum suddenly…

“Hermione,” Beatrice noticed that Hermione was moving incredibly close to it. Did you put any charms on yourself this morning yet?”

“No, but I will now,” Hermione attempted to get up, but she found that she couldn't.

“Hermione,” Beatrice said slowly. “Move away.”

“I can't,” Panic moved into Hermione's voice as she realized that some type of force was moving her face closer to the object. “It's pulling me!”

“Hermione!” Beatrice ran over to where her co-worker's face was a centimeter away from the stone.

But it was too late; Hermione's face quickly made contact with the artifact, and as soon as it did, a blinding pale blue light filled the room. Beatrice instinctively moved her hands to her eyes to protect them as she heard Hermione let out a piercing scream.

Hermione's shriek came to an abrupt stop. Beatrice slowly moved her hands away from her face and opened them.

The light was gone, and the office looked exactly as it had before. Well, almost, for there was one major difference:

Hermione, and the beautiful blue stone, were both gone.

***

Well, there's the prologue. Hope you enjoyed it! Sorry if it seemed boring or anything; this is just the prologue. I honestly do not know how often I'm going to be able to update, since school started and everything, but I'm going to try to update as quickly as possible. And, you never know, if I get a lot of reviews, it may motivate me to update sooner…;-)

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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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