Disclaimer: The Harry Potter World isn't mine. Neither is National Geographic. Wish I owned a Panda though.
SUMMARY: Post Hogwarts. Hermione has been missing for five years now and everyone has given up, save for Harry and Ron. Now the only chance they have of seeing her is by going back in time, these many trips though don't give them much information on her whereabouts, but Harry seems content in just watching his wife. Then as if by chance Harry stumbles upon a woman at a grocery store who has a similar resemblance to Hermione and is, strangely enough, even named Hermione. But is this really Hermione? Or is Harry's yearning for her just making her seem to be? Even Hermione isn't sure. Living as a Muggle and tired of her endless slag of day to day events, Hermione yearns for something different; something exciting, and it seems that Harry and his world are just the keys to that excitement. It's like a fairytale come true, but with the confusion of Hermione's real identity, the fairytale turns out to be just all in her mind. Head aches, visions and awkwardness, time travel, opened eyes, coming of age, acceptance, and discovery, soul merging with body, Prince Charming and Mystery Men, all topped off with a dash of firewhiskey at night makes a quite interesting recipe.
There will be a sequel.
Author's Notes: Hello to all, I hope the summary at the top provides you all with an idea of where I'm thinking of taking this. Thank you to all for the excellent reviews and let me know what you think so far of the ideas I've thrown out. Hope you enjoy this little one.
****
She lived with her sister and a friend in a town home not far from the main street. If you were to walk two blocks in one direction, you'd be faced with bumper to bumper traffic. A step in the other direction led you to a large span of green dotted with various trees. This was the park. A little beyond that were more homes, more shops and of course more traffic.
Every morning she would go for a run around the winding path of the park, her dog trotting at her side. The sounds of Mozart, Chopin, Strauss, and yes perhaps even Beethoven would pour through the silver headphones stamped with Winnie the Pooh stickers, one on each side. As she ran, she'd hum along with the string concertos, the preludes and even the many waltzes; her fingers absentmindedly conducting the cacophony of sound filling her senses.
A quick shower, a short lift on the bus, and she'd be downtown where she'd stop by Arnold's caf� for a little hello with a muffin and a coffee on the side. Then it was off to work; a desk job involving paperwork, quick decision making and a call or two. She had a lovely view of the city from her window, and often when she had the time, she'd gaze fondly off at the darkening sky as the sun made it's way down.
Today however her weekday schedule was to be interrupted by a trip to the doctor for a friendly check up. She had hopped off the bus, and took the lift up to the seventh floor just only fifteen minutes ago. Now she was mindlessly flipping through one of the old magazines that sat on the table.
She hated the doctor's office with its green walls adorned with corner store paintings; its round clock, big enough that it nearly took up the expanse of the far wall; its semi comfortable chairs lined up against the wall and people sitting with one chair in between them if they could help it.
She hated the thick smell of disinfectant that somehow managed to soak up her clothes and saturate her thick hair. Easy listening filtered gently through the speakers so as to fill the silence, the smooth beats often punctuated by hacking coughs, and it all annoyed her to no end.
There was never anything good to read, and hardly any books. What made for passing the time were random magazines: life magazines, fashion magazines, magazines that'd tell you how much weight one could loose in just two weeks if you'd dial the 1 800 number right away; food magazines equipped with the latest chocolate mousse cake big enough to serve up to eight people; spiritual magazines enriching the mind and cleansing the soul; teen magazines showing step by aching step of how to apply the proper amount of make up. There was the lone National Geographic magazine with a picture of a rather sad looking panda on the cover, and many, many, many tabloid magazines showing the faces of celebrities gone wrong.
"Miss Jardin-Rourke?"
Hermione looked up from the magazine that sat on her lap.
"The doctor will see you now."
Hermione smiled politely and left the magazine on the seat. Taking her purse in her hand, she followed the woman into a room and once the door shut she slipped off her jacket and sat in the chair. There was a wide window in the room overlooking the city and she contented herself in looking out at the buildings and little dots of people scurrying around.
The door opened. "Hermione, good afternoon." The doctor stepped in tucking a pen into his coat pocket.
"Afternoon, doctor," Hermione said, standing to meet him.
They shook hands and he gestured for her to take a seat, to which she obliged.
"So what can I do for you today, dear?"
Hermione folded her hands in her lap and then scratched the back of her neck. "Well I've just been getting these headaches lately. They're sharp, you know? Lighting quick. I'm not sure if it's really that big of a deal, but it's been happening far to often recently."
The doctor leaned forward in his chair slightly. "How recent?"
"Erm, the past four days?"
The doctor nodded and scratched something onto the paper. He asked her a series of the usual questions then got up and said, "Right, so let's have a look at you then."
They ran through a series of the usual tests and once finished, the doctor smiled shook his head. "You're right as rain, dear. Nothing seems to be the matter with you. I suggest you take some aspirin and have a lie down. Sleep is what you need, but if the headaches continue come back and see me."
****
Hermione pushed open the door and shoved her keys back into her purse. There was a loud bark and a large black lab trotted up to her in greeting. She scratched him behind the ears and he panted in response.
"Hey there, Holden. Miss me?"
"Is that you, Hermione?" a voice shouted from the kitchen.
Hermione hollered back an affirmative and hung her jacket in the closet. She rolled her shoulders back and stretched her arms. "Take out?" she said eyeing the boxes on the counter.
"I just came home," the woman at the stove said. She was steaming vegetables in a large pot. "Get the plates will, you?"
"Will Darcy be here on time?" Hermione asked while she washed her hands.
"Nah, said she had a dead line and we shouldn't wait up."
Hermione pulled out two plates. "More for us then."
"Did you pick up my magazines?"
"Ugh, yes. There's a horrid article on some actor having a torrid affair with someone or other."
"You read it?"
"Only the headline. Honestly, Maddy, how do you stand that rubbish?"
Madeleine spooned the vegetables onto a serving plate and smiled. "With great inner strength," she said.
They fed Holden and took a seat at the table.
"So what did the doctor say?"
"Oh, he said it was only stress. I should just pump myself full of pills and get some rest."
Madeleine's fork paused on it's way to her mouth. "Well. How much did you say he was getting paid again?"
"Too much." Hermione got up to pour herself a glass of wine. "So how was your day?"
"Oh so productive. There was something wrong with the computers so we had to wait for the IT guy to come in. Took hours."
"Hmm."
Madeleine took a sip from her glass. "Holden caught a bird at the park today."
Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Please tell me you buried it in the garden."
"No, I nailed it up on the wall above my bed. Of course I buried it. I gave it a name too."
"Now why ever did you do that?"
"I thought it would be nice. It was such a sweet little thing."
"So what did you name it?"
"Harry."
"Harry?"
"Yes. What's wrong with that?"
"Well it's not very bird-esque."
"I think Harry is a fine name."
Hermione put her fork down and dabbed at her lips with the napkin then said, "It is, but that's the sort of name you give to sweet little boys not dead birds."
Madeleine raised a fine eyebrow. "What would you have named it then?"
Hermione paused in thought. "Lucky?" she said with a hint of a smile.
"Cold. Absolutely horrid."
"Alright, no, erm, Flyer."
"Flyer?"
"Chirpy then."
Madeleine let out a laugh and swallowed some wine. "Do you have any imagination whatsoever?"
"I have plenty."
Madeleine only smiled into her napkin and decided to switch gears. "So do you remember that fellow we met earlier today?"
"The one at the grocery store?"
"Yes that's the one."
"What of him?"
"I spotted him today."
Hermione looked up from her plate and across the table at her friend. "Really? Where?" she asked.
"At the park. I took Holden for a walk right when I came home, and he was just walking a little ahead of us, hands in his pockets, his hair oh so deliciously messy. He's definitely the tall dark and brooding type," said Madeleine with an air of excitement.
Hermione spooned more food onto her plate. "You followed him didn't you?"
"Naturally."
"Oh, Maddy."
"Well, what else was I to do? He was so strange this morning, calling out your name and all, and when you told him to no he just looked so terribly sad. So you see, I had to follow him."
"Lord, I cannot believe you."
"It was some investigating, Hermione. I was doing it for you, dear. You must know that. I mean, if you two were ever to run into each other again imagine what could only happen."
Hermione shrugged. "I'd think that there'd just be some little eye contact then we'd be off on our merry way."
Madeleine sighed and sank back into her chair. "Oblivious. She is completely oblivious."
"Oblivious to what?"
"To him. He is a very fine specimen of the opposite sex that was positively throwing himself at you-"
"He thought I was someone else," said Hermione now having forgotten the food on her plate and not feeling very hungry.
Madeleine waved her hand away. "We could work around that," she said
"We?" Hermione repeated laughingly.
"Oh, darling, you haven't been out with a gent in decades."
Now Hermione looked slightly miffed. "It hasn't been decades. Only a year, and anyway. I'm perfectly happy being single."
Madeleine nodded in a comforting manner and patted her hand. Hermione only snatched her hand away and laughed. "You're a raving lunatic, Maddy. Now how long did you follow this poor man?"
"Not long. Holden was getting hungry so…"
"Poor guy," she said glancing at the dog who was busy gnawing a ball.
"He doesn't live that far from here, you know," Madeleine said as a-matter-of-fact-ly.
"Sorry?"
"Well, I did see him step into a home so it either could have been his or a friend's."
Against her will, Hermione's interest was piqued though she still felt somewhat uncomfortable and quite surprised that her friend had followed a man home. "Where?" she asked.
"Just a block down from here. He was stepping into 1182."
"The one with that dodgy looking garden gnome in the front yard?"
"That's the one."
"I can't believe you've done all this in one day."
"I did say it was productive."
"You forgot to mention slightly creepy."
Madeleine got up and placed her dish in the sink saying, "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that little not so nice comment. Are you done?"
"Just about."
"Good, hand me your dish and I'll take care of the washing."
"Yes, mum." Madeleine swatted Hermione with the dish cloth. "Ow. Right I'm going to bed."
"Night!" Madeleine called amidst the running water. "And remember 1182!"
Hermione rolled her eyes and called back, "The door is shutting now!" And the door did just that.
Once in her room turned and paused in front of the mirror. She stared at her reflection and pulled back her hair. It quite long now and she often wondered what she would look like with shorter hair. She could never bring herself to go to the nearest salon though. "It's fine just the way it is." she said aloud to no one in particular. Then she washed up, her bottom lip curling as she attempted to wash out the stench of disinfectant from her hair. She never really took baths at night, but this little break in routine didn't hurt. Then she brushed her hair with exactly 32 strokes, took off her father's necklace and hung it on it's usual spot; the bed post on her right. Pulling out her journal she quickly jotted down the events of the day, listing them as if she were making a shopping list. Then she placed her pen inside the book and made to shut it, but something held her back. Idly, she leafed through the book of mindless events until she came upon a little note that caught her eye.
Grocery shopping with Maddy. The strangest thing. A very attractive man approached me. Nearly got hit by a car. Ran, I think. Knew my name. "Sorry, thought you were someone I knew." It happens. What was exceedingly strange was his reaction. Sad. Put out. Really wanted me to be this Hermione. Wonder who he was. Hope I see him again.
Hope I see him again. She had actually written that. Well, he was attractive. Very Mystery Man. Very Prince Charming. Hermione's face broke into a smile and she allowed herself to drift into a faint daydream with her Prince Charming calling at her door. She would laugh and he'd bring a hand to her now short, wavy locks.
"You cut your hair," Prince Charming says.
"Do you like it?"
"It looks fantastic."
Then he would pull her along and out into the cool night air they'd go. Images swirled of the two of them walking hand in hand in the park beneath the trees and the half moon. Then they were in a caf�. Now he was holding her close as they swayed together on the dance floor.
Hermione's head ached slightly, and she massaged her temples with one hand and shut off the light with the other. A final image in her head before she fell asleep was of her and Prince Charming seated by a roaring fire.