Disclaimer: I don't own them but I sure do love 'em.
Act I: Journey Home
Chapter 1
To keep a long story short, the world, the wizarding world at least, did not change very much after the defeat of Lord Voldemort. Well, the world didn't change that much to Hermione Granger. The months following Voldemort's death were filled with extravagant parties, especially at Hogwarts. However, after the summer passed, life continued and people moved on, and so did she.
Despite missing the majority of the school year, Hermione graduated and managed pass her N.E.W.T.s with "Outstanding" marks, something rarely achieved. After leaving Hogwarts, she was given a position at the Ministry of Magic. She accepted a job at the Misuses of Muggle Artefacts Office as Arthur Weasley's assistant due to her experience and knowledge of the muggle world, even though it was awkward for the obvious reasons.
Not everyone adjusted properly to the quiet life unfortunately. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, her best friend, and hero of the wizard world, was one of those people. Harry applied for the Auror apprenticeship like Ron Weasley and the other graduates, and was immediately accepted into the program. Life seemed to return to normal for Harry, but something had changed after the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione knew he didn't miss the spotlight; on the contrary, he loathed it.
After he started his training, he grew incredibly distant and pushed everyone away. He even pushed Ginny Weasley away, which caused her to break off their relationship. Harry didn't appear to care and just kept working. Hermione attempted to reconnect with her best friend, but she could never get a hold of him. He refused to answer her owls, and he was never at the Ministry, despite the fact that Kingsley Shacklebot was his mentor.
Before finishing his Auror apprenticeship, Harry resigned from the program and left London without notice. Hermione wanted to pursue him so she could convince him to stay. However, Harry was already missing by the time she learned about his resignation. Hermione Granger, the smartest girl around, failed to keep another relationship together.
* * * * *
"Hermione," Arthur called out from his office, waking Hermione from her daydream. She rubbed her eyes and looked down at the Daily Prophet that was on her lap. The front-page article was laid out. The article was about Ron's training and his promotion to Auror a month ago. She continued to scan the paper, and her stomach churned when she noticed a small quip about Harry. The writer expressed disgust for Harry and claimed that their hero suffered a mental breakdown that resulted in his disappearance a year ago. It was lie. It had to be. Then she heard Arthur call out for her again.
"Coming, sir," Hermione replied as she placed the newspaper on her cluttered desk. "What is it?" She opened the partially opened door to Arthur's office, but remained in the doorway.
"What is this?" Arthur lifted up a small electric device in the air, meeting his assistant's eyes. She looked at it and then at her boss. Even though Arthur was one of the smartest wizards she knew, he still didn't know everything. Then again, neither did she.
"It's an electric razor, Mr. Weasley," Hermione answered him. Arthur brought it close to his face and pressed the small button near the bottom of the electric razor. It turned on. The old man with fire-red hair squealed and dropped the vibrating razor. It landed hard on his wooden desk and began to move across it.
"I've seen some crazy things in my life," Arthur said, mostly to himself. "But this thing is certainly intriguing. It's supposed to shave a muggle man's face, correct?" He lowered his head to the desk and watched the razor travel along his desk. It was excruciating painful to watch and Hermione had to act to make it stop. The soft pounding of the razor against the wooden desk was unpleasant and irritating. Before the razor reached the edge of the desk, Hermione picked up the electronic device and turned it off.
"Is that all, sir?" Hermione asked with her eyebrow raised, and she wasn't trying to hide her annoyance and frustration. He looked up at her with the demeanor of a child and nodded. Arthur rarely acted like a grown man whenever he found a new toy. He was more like a child on Christmas day when he examined muggle "artefacts." Hermione sighed and returned to her desk. She picked up the Daily Prophet and tossed it in the trashcan next to her.
* * * * *
Hermione found it difficult to open the door of her flat. Whenever it was cold and rained like this, the iron hinges always refused to budge. She pulled out her wand, looked up and down the hallway, and used a little magic to force the door open. When she entered her apartment, she saw a small owl perched at her window, tapping on the window with his beak.
It was Pigwidgeon and looked as wet and miserable as she did. She carefully lifted up the window seal to let the wet owl in. He shook his small wings to alleviate his body from the cold rainwater. Hermione smiled and took the small scroll that was tied to his leg. She used her wand as a light source and rolled open the small parchment:
Hermione,
We need to talk.
Ron
Hermione half smiled and softly stroked the top of Pig's head. The small owl hooted cheerfully and flew out the window. She watched him take flight, wishing she were the owl, and closed the window. Maybe the world had changed after all.
* * * * *
The Ministry seemed different when Hermione arrived the following day. The atmosphere had drastically changed from yesterday and it put her on edge. Everyone appeared to be walking with certain urgency. She then noticed Neville Longbottom walking across the circular lobby, passing the giant statue of Albus Dumbledore. He was fully dressed in his Auror robes. Her friend had grown quite a bit since their time at Hogwarts. Even though he still seemed out of place in her eyes, she couldn't help herself and admire the way he carried himself.
"Longbottom," Hermione shouted from across the lobby. Neville stopped immediately and looked around for the voice that called out to him frantically. Hermione smiled when all the poise and powerful demeanor that Neville displayed had melted away. In the end, he was still the boy she grew up with. She ran over to Neville and hugged him, despite his protests.
"Hey, Hermione," Neville muttered. He was sweating.
"Hello, Neville." With the pleasantries over, Hermione decided to take control of the conversation. "What's going on?" Neville didn't answer however. Instead, he looked around and searched the crowd for someone that wasn't there.
"Come with me," Neville grabbed her arm and dragged her with him.
"Where are we going?" Hermione asked, trying to keep up with her friend's long strides.
"No time to explain," he responded without turning to her. They walked up to a large iron door and Neville pulled out his wand. He tapped the knob of the door and it turned. The bolt of the door's lock clicked and Neville pulled it open. Hermione walked in first with Neville behind her.
Then she realized where she was: the Auror meeting room. It was a strange thing to see. The room was almost as big as the lobby near the main entrance. There were two circuits of tables and chairs. The inside row was occupied by Minister Shacklebot and other Ministry officials, including veteran and seasoned Aurors. The outside row was relatively empty except for a few Aurors, none of whom she knew. Most of the younger members were out on missions. Neville nodded to Hermione and led her to a seat along the second circuit.
"What's going on?" whispered Hermione.
"The world's coming to an end," a voice came from behind them, causing Hermione to jump. She turned around and saw it was Ron. He was dressed in robes that were similar to Neville's, but it was obvious he didn't care as much about his attire. His robes were muddy, probably picked up from his training, but that meant he hadn't washed them lately. However, that wasn't his only problem, or the real one. Ron took a seat next to Hermione and scooted the chair closer to her.
"How are you doing?" Ron asked her. Hermione wasn't in the mood and didn't want to talk to him, but she knew she had to.
"Fine," responded Hermione. One word. It was the easiest way to answer his question without giving any details.
"That's it? `Fine.'" He pressed. "We haven't spoken for over half a year and that's call you can say to me?"
"What is there left to say?" Hermione hissed. Neville looked at both with a serious expression on his face and they immediately stopped bickering.
"This isn't a joke," said Neville. Hermione felt her heart sink; she allowed her personal feelings to get in the way again.
"I know, I'm sorry," she apologized. She leaned in towards Neville, not to only hear him better, but to also create a bigger gap between her and Ron.
"No, not that. I mean, Ron shouldn't be joking about this," Neville muttered.
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Okay. The truth is: we're in trouble," Ron replied for Neville. She turned to him, but didn't say anything. However, Hermione didn't say anything when she looked at him, she wasn't looking into the eyes of a jerk, but into the eyes of an Auror.
"How are we in trouble?" Hermione was being completely sincere.
"We just received reports about an attack in Annan, Scotland." Neville whispered, he tried to keep his composure, but he couldn't hide the slight vibrato in his voice. She looked at Ron for agreement and he nodded.
"An attack that involved magic?" It was obvious, but she had to be sure. There have been no reports of a magical attack since the death of Lord Voldemort, but that didn't mean they didn't happen. It had been a relatively quiet year for the Aurors.
"Five dead, four of them muggles." Neville's face was now pale and there was no hiding his fear. It wasn't same kind of fear that Neville once possessed when it came to taking tests. It was real fear in his eyes.
"There was nothing in the Prophet," if was recent, she would have read about it, let alone hear about it from Arthur.
"It's because we want everyone to think it was a random accident." Ron was the first to answer.
"Why? That doesn't make any sense," said Hermione.
"Look," Neville grabbed her attention. "The Ministry wants to keep a lid on this for now. Under the circumstances, we don't want to start a panic when there doesn't need to be one. So, we're attributing the deaths to a random accident."
"What kind of random accident?" They didn't answer her immediately. She stared at Neville and ten looked at Ron. Neither of them refused to meet her eyes. "What kind of random accident?"
"Look, I don't like it anymore than you do," Ron tried to defend the Ministry.
"Tell me the truth," Hermione wasn't going to listen to any of it. She had enough of the cloak and dagger nonsense. It was the world of Aurors and she didn't want any real part of it.
"A bridge collapsed," Ron muttered.
"A muggle witness claimed to have seen two men fighting with `sticks.' One of the men was the victim and the other was wearing a white mask." Neville gave her the straight answer that she wanted. "She said that there was a bright flash of light and part of bridge was gone."
"A white mask?" Hermione felt her stomach churn and the small hairs of the back of her neck rose. "Like Death Eaters?" Ron shook his head, a small wave of relief washed over her.
"We think it's a new group," Neville took away the safety net that she landed on.
"And that's all we know," replied Ron before she could probe for more answers. Before anything else could be said, Hermione quickly left the room. She ran for the bathrooms, pushing and shoving anyone that got in her way. When she got into the bathroom, she pulled out her wand. With a flick of her wand, the stall doors opened instantly, revealing no one was in them. She turned around to face the door and locked it with a swish.
"Harry," Hermione muttered as she collapsed against the locked door. She wasn't exactly crying, but tears rolled down her face. Maybe she was having her own mental breakdown. She missed Hogwarts, she missed her parents, and she missed her best friend. The young witch longed for her time at Hogwarts. She pulled out a small brag book from her purse and flipped through the pictures of her family and friends. Life wasn't so simple and innocent anymore.
Hermione stopped on a picture of Harry and her at a party in the Gryffindor Tower at Hogwarts. It was kind of a funny. The night before was one of the worst nights of her life, yet she was having such fun in the picture. It was one of the few magical pictures she had. The picture displayed Harry and Hermione hugging each other tightly, swaying from side to side. It was as if they were dancing.
* * * * *
"Harry, stop moving, you're going to make me sick," Hermione giggled. Her face was flustered; her speech was slurred; and her dress was disheveled. Harry, on the other hand, was still relatively sober, except his suit was in no better condition. They noticed the photographer standing in front of him and quickly smiled for the picture. Harry soon released her after the photographer walked away.
"Lets sit down," Harry smiled and led his drunk friend to an unoccupied couch. He sat down first and she fell onto him, snuggling against his shoulder. She was slightly drooling but Harry didn't care. However, he didn't attempt to hide his amusement neither.
"Oh, I should take a picture right about now, it'd be beautiful," Hermione instantly sat up, making sure there was no one around with a camera.
"Oh, don't joke like that." She resumed her original position on the couch. Ron walked over to them and sat next to Harry. Even though he retained the majority of his motor functions, he, too, was drunk. He sat up to check on Hermione and then fell back into the couch.
"What a party," Ron shouted. The young wizard wasn't speaking to anyone directly, but the students around them cheered in unison and took a swig of their respective drinks.
"You okay?" Harry joked. Ron nodded and got off the couch.
"I'll be right back," Ron smiled and walked off. Harry watched him for a moment and realized he wouldn't be coming back for a while. Ron was now walking in a circle.
"I'm sorry," Harry muttered to himself.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. She was half asleep.
"Oh, nothing," replied Harry.
"No, what are you sorry for?" Hermione was still resting against him, but she was now awake and was sobering up. Harry didn't respond to her question but tightened his arm that was wrapped around her.
* * * * *
Hermione stared deeply into the bathroom mirror. She always wondered what Harry meant by that and regretted her lack of confidence to push the subject. Maybe if she had asked him, she might have been able to stop the deterioration of their friendship. She leaned closer to the mirror and wiped the smeared eyeliner with a wet towel. The young witch then picked up her wand from the sink counter and applied a light layer of make up on her face. After gathering herself belongings, she opened the bathroom door.
Standing on the other side of the doorway were Ron and Neville. It was apparent that they had followed her, but neither dared to open the door. Nor could they since they feared she put a hex on the knob, and they were right. Despite their fear, she was touched by their concern.
"I'm fine, you guys," said Hermione.
"Are you sure?" Neville wasn't convinced, but he didn't press her any further.
"The bloody hell you are," Ron on the other hand was rash and abrasive. Not a befitting quality she was fond of when they were together.
"Look, I'm sorry," Hermione searched her mind for a response. Then it hit her. It was a solution to all of her problems, and theirs. "I'm leaving."
"What?" they asked together.
"I'm going to look for Harry Potter." She froze. Did she just say that out loud? There was a moment of complete silence between the three of them.
"Harry?" Neville was the first to speak.
"Yes," Hermione replied reluctantly. "I'm going to look for Harry."
"Neville, I think you should go," said Ron. Before Neville could respond, Ron pushed him out of the way and forced Hermione back into the bathroom.
"What are you doing?" asked Hermione.
"I should be asking you the same thing." Ron began to pace back and forth, his hands on his hips, as he tried to figure out his next move. He hadn't heard that name for almost a year. Harry, his best friend, had disappeared without a word and left him to take the reigns.
Ron was heavily scrutinized after Harry went on the lamb. People didn't only question Ron about Harry, but wondered about his abilities as a potential Auror. Ron even wondered if he had what it took to become an Auror. Was he riding of the coattails of success that Harry left behind him? No. No he wasn't. Ron was a good wizard, if not a great one. At least, that's what he told himself after he passed his training. Despite the fact it took him longer to finish his apprenticeship than the others, he was even beat out by Neville, he became an Auror. He was worth something.
"I'm coming with you," were the next words to come out of Ron's mouth. He stopped moving and waited for Hermione to respond. She was just standing there. A mixture of shock and confusion was on her face. "What?"
"You're coming with me?" That's all she could say.
"What? Do I hear an echo in here?" His response wasn't any better.
"First, you question my decision," Hermione was the first to figure out what she wanted to say. "And now you want to come with me?"
"Yes, do you have a problem with that?" asked Ron.
"A little bit. I do." Hermione was being completely honest and Ron knew it.
"Look, you're going to need help looking for Harry." Ron was right. "And I just might know where he is."
"Where?"
"Meet me at King's Cross in a few hours," said Ron and left the bathroom quickly. Hermione was at a lost for words.
* * * * *
A/N: Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy the story so far. I'm sorry if there's any confusion at the moment, but a lot of the plot holes will be addressed in later chapters. Please review and thank you again for reading!
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