Do You Believe?

Disclaimer: As hard as I try, I’ll never be JK Rowling. She’s a genius, alas I am not. It all belongs to her.

Chapter One: Happy Together

Seven long years had passed since she had heard the word spoken, since she had seen the people, since she believed it was real. She had spent too many years in that dream world and it was time to get on with her life. Magic was a part of her past that she had long chosen to forget. The wizarding world as she knew it was gone, and it was her fault. All this seemed correct in the scholarly mind of Hermione Granger, but even she was unable to see how much magic was an integral part of her. Her mind was made up the moment the last shot was fired. She never cared to hear the word "magic" as long as she lived.

Twenty-four year old Hermione Granger was still as brainy as the seventeen-year-old student. She wouldn’t ever be able to change that part of her, even if she tried. She had grown to love her comfortable Muggle life. No one would ever had known she was a witch, the way she would put all her energy into every task when a witch could save hours of labor with the flick of a wand. The only proof she had of her teenage years was an old yellowed photograph of her, Ron, and Harry holding up large bags of sweets outside of Honeydukes. The photo, once a magical moving snapshot, did not move anymore. Ron's goofy smile would always be permanently plastered across his face as he reached over and put bunny ears on a scowling Hermione. Harry laughed behind them, his scar peering out through the mess of dark hair covering his forehead. That scar had started everything. Hermione had been the unfortunate one to finish it. She ran away from the wizarding world and never looked back.

Hermione anxiously attempted to tame her wild curls in order to look somewhat presentable. Today, her cousin Clara was to be married, and Hermione had promised to be in attendance for the special occasion. She carefully held the last of her curls in place as she reached to grab the can of hair spray.

Clara was two years younger and had always looked up to Hermione as a role model. She was actually the one who convinced Clara to take the job as a waitress two years ago. It was that day that Clara met Paul, a new customer to the little diner. He came back every Thursday to visit Clara at the restaurant. Paul was a marine biologist, who often took Clara out on the boat with him. He proposed to her about six months ago and Hermione felt she couldn’t possibly be happier for her cousin.

"Arrrrgggggh!" The bulky, large can of hairspray slipped out of Hermione's fingers and fell off the end of the dresser. Hermione tried to catch the can, but the sudden shift in weight caused her to fall of the chair and throw her arms out to break the fall. Hermione's nearly perfect bun spilled down once again over her shoulders into a sticky tangled mess.

"What's the matter, pumpkin?" A tall skinny man with dark hair neatly slicked back strolled into the room. Robert Meyers was Hermione's boyfriend of eight months. They met each other at an office picnic. He was what Hermione would call a nice, normal guy.

"Just my hair, I wanted to look nice for Clara's wedding, but it's a mess!" Hermione sighed and tried to brush the sticky mess back off of her face. Robert took the brush from her and tried to help with the untangling. Hermione decided to save time by applying her make-up while Robert busily tried to remove the pins embedded in her hair.

“You can always tell Clara that this is the latest fashion in London.” Hermione scowled at him. He chuckled timidly and grabbed the brush off the dresser table. "We can get this fixed up in a minute." He ran the brush through her thick hair. The brush suddenly snagged a huge knot, causing Hermione to yelp and jab at her eye with the mascara wand. "I'm so sorry sweetheart!"

"It's not your fault." Hermione tried to remove the trailing black mascara line from the side of her face. "I guess I am just a little too anxious about the wedding."

"Why on earth are you anxious? They have known each other two years now. Clara and Paul are perfect for one another."

"I guess it's the fact that the wedding is actually today. I want the day to go perfect just as much as the next person. I am probably more nervous than the bride!" Hermione giggled nervously.

"Just calm down apple tart," Robert had a horrible habit of making up ridiculous pet names for Hermione. She always laughed at him when he did this, though a small part of her mind was thoroughly annoyed. "I can hardly imagine how nervous you will be on our wedding day. Paul is in love with Clara, he told me so himself. They are going to live a long, happy life together." He smiled down at her.

"I guess they are." She said quietly. Robert finished taking the pins out of her hair and brushing most of the knots out. Hermione twisted her hair into a knot behind her head and fastened it with a barrette. He gave her a peck on the forehead to keep from smudging that perfectly painted lipstick pout and walked downstairs.

"I'll meet you in the car." He called from the doorway. Hermione closed the door and slipped on the pale green dress she had picked out for the occasion. She finished applying her make-up and grabbed her high heels. She looked over the dresser to make sure she had not forgotten anything. The seventeen-year-old girl in the photograph stared up at her menacingly. Hermione picked up the photograph and noticed the image of the trio was fading. Hermione sighed loudly, and placed the picture frame facedown on the dresser.

The wedding was beautiful. Not that this fact was much surprise to Hermione considering she helped organize most of it. Hermione felt her job was to oversee and make sure everything was undeniably perfect for her cousin. Clara wore the most extravagant dress Hermione had ever seen. Paul looked exceptionally handsome in his tuxedo. The church sanctuary had been inundated with roses. The ceremony was like a dream, and the reception was simply perfect. Clara's vivid smile was contagious as her father toasted their happy life together.

"To the most charming and wonderful friend I've met. And we just so happen to be related on top of things. Fancy that?" Hermione raised her glass with the others at the table.

"To my wife," Paul said nervously. "The woman who has made all the difference in my life. If I hadn't gotten lost and asked for directions I would never have met this little lady. Clara I hope we have many happy years together." He smiled happily at the beaming bride.

"And to Paul – the one who has made it worth getting up every morning just to spend time with you." Clara answered. "The person who taught me how to scuba dive." Hermione giggled with a couple other people in the crowd. "The person who taught me to laugh again. I'll love you forever."

Clara and Paul looked incredibly happy as they cut the wedding cake, and as they danced together across the floor.

Hermione was happy for her cousin; Clara and Paul would be happy together forever. She hoped that someday she would be happily married as well. Hermione went off daydreaming about her proposal. The proposal would take place in a beautiful garden. Her love would get down on one knee and present her with the wedding ring he had been saving so much of his earnings for. She would happily accept and he would sweep her off her feet and take her home where they would immediately start organizing her fantasy wedding. (Organizing was still a hobby of Hermione's.) All of her family and friends from work would be at the wedding. They would be married in a picturesque church, its aisles covered with flowers and –

Hermione's train of thought was broken when something hit her square in the forehead. She caught the menacing object and rubbed her head.

"Carrot cake! You caught it!" Robert yelled excitedly. Hermione looked down at the object in her hands. She held a large bunch of flowers. She had caught the bouquet.

Work the next morning was hell on earth. Hermione had taken off Friday in order to make it to Clara's wedding. Monday morning, her desk was flooded with papers. Hermione Granger was an editor for a prestigious newspaper. She had stacks of articles that had to be looked over by three o'clock that afternoon. Marty Binns was a terrible speller, Hermione had to repeatedly change the word "there" to "their" or "they're" or add and extra p to "suposedly". She was becoming thoroughly frustrated after the seventeenth red mark she had put on the article. She was not hired to be a grammar teacher. She carelessly brushed a thick strand of hair off her face as she circled the word "melowierest" having no idea what the real word was supposed to be. There was a small knock on the partition wall that boxed in her cubicle.

"May I come in?" Robert stood in the doorway holding a bunch of wildflowers. Hermione looked up from behind a stack of papers and smiled. "I need to talk to you honey." That was probably the most normal name he had decided to use yet.

"Have a seat." There were no other chairs in the cubicle, so Robert perched himself upon a large stack of books in the corner next to the desk.

He cleared his throat loudly. "Hermione, I have been meaning to tell you this for a long time." He started. "Or I guess the proper statement would be 'to ask you this for a long time'." Robert was quite a perfectionist. Hermione was a bit of a perfectionist and a know-it-all herself.

Hermione stood up in her chair and walked over towards him. "What is it? We could go out to dinner tonight if you would like."

"It isn't that kind of question Hermione." He said sternly. "I have been thinking in my office all morning and decided now is as good a time as any."

"For what?"

"How would you like to marry me?" He said brightly thrusting the flowers at her face. Hermione's smile slowly faded as the words sunk in. He was proposing to her from on top of a stack of books in an office cubicle. And the question is supposed to be "Will you marry me?" not "How would you like to marry me?" Aren’t you supposed to be down on one knee?

"Oh and I got a ring too." He reached into his pocket and grabbed a little case. He opened it revealing a simple gold ring, with a large diamond in the center. "Here you go." He tossed that over to her as well. What happened to the rose garden, and the ring that he saved all of his earnings for? The ring he gave her was gorgeous, but the proposal was all wrong. Hermione still stared at him, bewildered.

"Hermione? Ginger Snap? Are you going to answer?" Hermione could not make the words come out. She loved Robert, she always had, but something was preventing her from answering. "I knew it, my timing is horrible."

Hermione agreed totally but she did not want to admit it. She smiled weakly at him and put the ring on her finger. It was silly of her to try to plan a proposal anyways. The wedding on the other hand would have to be extra special just to make up for this.

"Hermione I want us to be happy together, just like Clara and Paul. Is it too soon to ask?"

"Of course not." Hermione grinned and held her hand to the light. "It's beautiful Robert. Of course I will marry you." He gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"I'll see you at three." He said cheerfully.

"See you." He walked out of the office and back to his cubicle.

That was not a proposal. Hermione did not know what to call it. It was like a typical work conversation at which one happened to carry flowers and diamond rings to. She picked up the stack of papers and one of the books that Robert was sitting on. She walked over to the empty cubicle next door. The nameplate read "Marty C. Binns". Hermione walked into the office, dumped the edited articles and a dictionary, and took a walk down the long hallway.

Seven years ago, she had given up her childish belief in magic. Those seven years did not stop her from dreaming. Time to grow up Hermione. Reality is always disappointing.

Authors Note:

Violets are blue

Roses are red

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The Red Queen and all related trademarks are copyrighted and are being abused by this author. Don't complain visa, hitherto, and all those other great legalesque words. (Translation: don’t sue me.)

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Authors Note: Giving you another chapter because I realized that first was not much in the way of plot. And I’m on vacation – which makes me cheery!^^

And here’s best wishes for DH – *thinks happy thoughts*

Disclaimer: It’s still JKR’s. And she’s awesome.

Chapter Two: Bump in the Night

Elizabeth and Daniel Granger were thrilled when they heard that their only daughter was engaged. Hermione let the disappointing proposal thing slide and set off to happily planning her wedding. Their wedding was going to be in August, and Hermione and Robert had already started planning everything, from the music, to the decorations, to the bridesmaid dresses. Everything was going to be absolutely perfect. It had to be, because Hermione was very determined to make it so. She would mow down anyone who stood in the way between her and her storybook ceremony.

The last and best detail was still yet to decide, Hermione’s dress. Clara accompanied her to the dress shop downtown. They trudged down the snow-covered streets and passed a storefront window, the blank-faced mannequin modeling off one of the top designer dresses. Clara took her cousin by the arm and guided her through the doors as a little tingly bell sounded announcing their presence.

A short middle-aged lady dressed in lavender greeted them at the door. “Welcome! Which one of you two is the bride to be?” Clara pointed to her cousin happily. “Oh, wonderful!” the lady seemed ready to burst with cheerfulness, lines forming around her eyes as she scrunched up her little round face. “You just have to look at these new designs that came in last weekend.” Three seconds later and this lady was dragging Hermione down the first aisle of dresses towards some more mannequins. Hermione looked back at Clara mouthing the words “Help me”, but Clara giggled and decided she was being ridiculous.

The lady brought her up to a model wearing a very extravagant dress that had been inundated in sparkle, tulle, beads, and bows. “This would look just charming don’t you think?”

The dress looked like something a fairy tale character would wear – a fairy tale character from a child’s nightmare that is. She kept picking up the hanger and turning the dress around, hoping a new angle would be more inspiring. After staring at it awhile, she decided the entire frill factory must have exploded onto the gown. It was a beautiful dress, just so cluttered with extras. “How about something a little – er – plainer?”

“They sell burlap sacks at the farmers market down the road-”

Hermione pulled a few more dresses off the rack, but rejected each of them. There had to be hundreds of dresses in the shop.

“This one looks nice!” Clara called from across the room. Hermione pretended to be particularly interested and ran towards her cousin’s voice. The lady stared irritated at this seemingly picky shopper and straightened out the froufrou dress. Hermione raced up the aisles to where Clara was standing holding a very simple yet elegant dress. It was pure white with delicate off the shoulder straps and small beading about the front. Hermione gasped when she saw it.

“Wow – I didn’t know shopping with you was going to be so easy Hermione.” Clara stared happily at her cousin. “Oh miss! I think we’ll have this one for now. Can we set up an appointment for alterations?” Once everything was set, and they had bought the perfect shoes, which took considerably longer, the two walked happily out the door to the cute little hot chocolate stand belonging to a pair of young siblings.

“So how are things with you and Paul?” Hermione asked, placing some coins on the table before taking a sip of the hot chocolate. The two of them then turned and started heading back towards the house.

“Simply wonderful. I couldn’t wait to get back from the cruise and back to the house to start our real lives together. It’s a lot colder here now you know?”

“It’s December Clara.”

“I just know this is going to work, you know what I mean?”

“Yes of course! You and Paul are great for each other-”

“You and Robert are too you know.” Clara responded as they walked up to the front porch. “Where is Robert by the way?”

“Inside I’ll bet, his flight leaves in forty-five minutes, but he’s always dawdling. He’s supposed to go see some aunt of his.” At this very moment her disheveled husband bolted out the door nearly knocking past the two young ladies. He held suitcases in both hands and a slice of toast in his mouth. Hermione grabbed the toast and gave him a quick kiss. “Have fun okay?”

“I’ll try to. Auntie Susan tends to be a bit boring you know. I’ll miss you. Sure you’ll be okay here alone?”

“Positive - and Clara’s right up the road.”

“Okay Sweetpea, see you in a week!” He threw the suitcases into the trunk and straightened out his tie before speeding away towards the airport. Robert was going to visit his perfectly normal and boring aunt. Hermione relished the things that would appear “boring” to the average person. She loved being normal.

They walked into the house, and Hermione quickly set the bag with the shoes down on the table as she got ready to make dinner. Clara took the green beans out of the refrigerator and got them ready for cooking. Hermione had just put a pot of water on the stove when they heard a loud BANG from outside of the window. Hermione quickly whipped open the curtains. Nothing. She went back to cooking. Then it sounded again. BANG! She looked over just in time to see a gray blur smash and slide down the window, crumpling into a giant feathery heap in the flowerbed.

“What on earth?” Clara ran towards the window. “I think it’s a poor little owl Hermione.” She opened the window to get a better look at the bird. “That’s funny; I always thought owls were nocturnal – have you ever seen one out during the day before? Aww c’mere you poor thing.” Clara stretched out her arms to the bird. The bird first searched her outstretched hands for food but was very dissatisfied. The bird obviously programmed with a very limited attention span turned around and came bolting towards the now opened window and into her kitchen, splaying feathers and squawking loudly as it smashed into the opposite wall. Clara rushed to the bird’s aide. Hermione quickly snatched up the small piece of paper the bird seemed to have dropped.

“Oh my goodness!” Clara yelled. “It’s hurt!”

“It’s fine!” Hermione insisted. She walked over and prodded the bird gently with the opposite end of the wooden spoon she was still holding. The bird got up as if nothing happened and poked about the kitchen curiously. Then it went back to flying straight towards Hermione, remembering its task. It pecked at her hands, wanting her to read the letter it had delivered. Hermione pulled the paper out quickly and used it as a shield to fend the owl from attacking her. Clara quickly caught interest in the ornately decorated envelope and stared at her cousin anxiously. Only then had Hermione taken a good look at the letter. It was small with the words “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry” printed neatly on top. She felt the familiar, raised wax seal with her fingertips. What did they want now?

“What is it?” Clara was growing all the more anxious now.

“A letter, from – er – Auntie Susan. Too bad it just missed Robert by a few minutes.”

“You’d better open it – just to make sure it isn’t urgent. We could still catch him you know.”

This was not the first letter they had sent her, but it was the first she had gotten anywhere near opening. The letters were becoming more frequent over the last couple of weeks. All others had gone straight from her hand to the wastebasket. Hermione wished she could be anywhere but here right now. Why would Hogwarts send her a letter? She did not graduate from there – she could not. (She did graduate from a normal university though – school was always a big priority to Hermione.) To reprimand? To announce they were coming after her? To throw her into Azkaban –

“That’s so cute that she sent that little letter by owl. Wouldn’t that be rather far away though?” Clara seemed to be the little animal activist. She sat down at the table with the owl, petting it and rearranging its dopey looking feathers. “I know what it needs. A bow!”

“I think it’s a boy.”

“We’ll make it a bowtie then!”

“Spare the bird. I’m sure it got plenty of time to rest.” Hermione carefully pulled open the seal on the envelope, mixed feelings of hate, fear, and curiosity seizing her. The message was nothing more than a few lines, carefully handwritten, and very formal.

Ms. Hermione Granger,

Your presence is requested at Hogwarts immediately. An escort will be sent to meet you at Platform 9 3/4 tonight. A reply and your wand will be sufficient. Arrive as soon as possible.

Professor Minerva McGonagall

She stared blankly at the paper for a few minutes. She moved out of her old home five years ago. Maybe they had been tracking her down all this time. This could be the nice of way of saying, “We found you and you’ve floated yourself up a rather long creek without a paddle.” Hell, why should McGonagall even mention bringing the wand? To seem noble and let me fight my death? But still the escort thing and all seemed almost desperate. Finding that wand would be extremely impossible. Any which way, it does not matter, because Hermione Granger does not believe in magic – or stupid childish games – or spell casting – or –

“Hellooo! Earth to Hermione - come in Hermione-” Hermione jerked her head up out of her deep encircling thoughts. “Anything important in the letter? We’re running out of time you know.”

“Nope, she just can’t wait to see him.” Hermione smiley feebly and tossed the letter into the crackling fire.

“Let’s make dinner then!” Clara and Hermione set off to work.

*****

Four nights after the owl had run into her kitchen window, Hermione found herself unable to sleep. It was twelve thirty at night as Hermione puttered around her kitchen, holding a glass of wine in one hand and a magazine in the other. She sat down on the couch and flipped through the channels uselessly. She had not received any more letters since missing her appointment at Kings Cross, and she really did not care. It was still increasingly difficult to keep her mind from thinking about what McGonagall actually wanted. Meanwhile the TV garbled nonsense infomercials as she read her magazine by the glowing fire.

“It slices! It dices! Watch as it chops this potato into fine little wedges-”

“Guaranteed to help you lose ten pounds in one week! On the amazing-”

“And the shirt comes out sparkling and clean. It’s magic!”

“No it isn’t!” Hermione shouted idiotically at the television set, taking another sip of wine. She flipped the channel again before settling onto some soap opera late night reruns. She set the magazine aside and became engrossed in the picture perfect world of Lola de Oliviera who just happened to have found her long lost brother who washed up from a shipwreck last Friday. This brother happens to be in love with her cousin, but does not know that they are related due to amnesia. Meanwhile her boyfriend Renaldo was having an affair with her sister. And this baby inexplicably arrived on their doorstep. But otherwise everything was perfect, and not a single hair was ever out of place.

“He’s cheating on you dammit!” She bellowed at the TV set. “Don’t you know that he could never love you!” She began to stuff her face with handfuls of popcorn that she popped during a commercial break. “And you could never find reliable childcare for your baby daughter Wynter. Oh why does Hollywood make up such stupid names for kids?”

“I have always loved you Lola, you know that as well as anyone.”

“I bet her sister knows better!” She grabbed a handful of popcorn and threw it at the terrible cheater that was Renaldo.

“Of course. I will always love you for all eternity Renaldo. You are the only one I’ve ever loved.”

“He’s a bastard I tell you. A BASTARD!” Just then a knock came at the door. Hermione leaped off sending little popcorn kernels soaring. She quickly got off the couch and turned off the TV set. Then she ran back to the couch and picked up the delicate little popcorn kernels out of the sofa. Then the bowl was rushed back to the kitchen, noting that it was now two thirty in the morning. The knock was louder now. She never had gotten changed from earlier, so she just straightened out what she had on before heading towards the door.

She unlatched the lock and pulled the door open as a gust of chilly winter air blew into the room, bringing with it plenty of snow flurries across her clean carpet. She looked outside but no one was to be seen - just black sky, and white snowflakes. She shut the door and redid the latch tightly.

Just after she heard the clink of the latch, a noise came from the kitchen window. Another damn owl gone nutters. She went over to the kitchen if nothing more than for sympathy. Leaving a bird out in the cold would be a cruel and unusual punishment. She always wanted a pet owl. She walked over to the window, but it was already open. Owls cannot open windows.

They are here.

Hermione slammed the window shut and locked it. There was a steady fire going; they would have to be stupid to try to climb down the chimney. Hermione’s new home was not in the Floo network, much to her relief. Then there was stumbling coming from the bedroom. Hermione ran to the kitchen and grabbed a knife.

Honestly, just having a very large daunting weapon made her feel much safer. If she was to run into someone, she would never use it. “I’m armed!” She shouted. “Stay right where you are!” The thudding in the opposite room stopped. Her heart began racing like being in one of those suspense thriller type movies. Any second, her executioner would pop out of a closet, grab her, and take her back to Hogwarts.

“Are you there?” She shouted to the closed door. No one answered. She gulped and took a deep breath before placing a hand on the latch. Her heart was pounding in her throat, making it increasingly difficult to take each successive breath. One, two, three!

Nothing. Nothing but brief silence and the feeling of cold air on her back.

“Really, a ‘bastard’ is a rather harsh word for a television character you know?” The voice cut through her like the icy wind pouring in through the gaping front door. I closed that...I know I did. She spun around quickly and ran towards the front door. Something struck her and she impulsively slammed the door. That voice could only belong to one person.

****

A/N: I love you all. And you’re looking marvelous today! Have I ever told you that? *points to lovely reviewers* No it’s not like I’m just buttering you up for reviews or anything. Although maybe I am…

Haha kidding – tell me what you think. And I have a bit of a thing for cliffhangers.