Impulse buying

A/N: My first fic, without having any possibility of a Dramione. I'm going in a different direction for this one. Mostly it's a Fred/Hermione. (From here on in known as Mioned)

Hope you like it. Not sure about how long I'll make it yet, will keep you posted! Also, I now have a quote before I begin each chapter, to inspire others.

Disclaimer: J.K owns it all, every last detail about a character, you want to know it? She's got it, and owns it. Holds back bitter tears. But stays in wonder at how someone had such a fantastic imagination!

Quote: "There are so many wonderful ideas out there, if only we could think of them"

Hermione Granger, sat at her desk, writing. A few moments later, she attached the now finished letter to a snowy owls leg. She patted it affectionately before it flew out into the now black sky. It was mid-July but for the past two days it had been raining. Most wizards blamed the Dementors, even though they cannot control the weather. Those who were in some way associated with Muggles knew otherwise.

"Stupid global warming" Hermione muttered to herself as she rose from her uncomfortable swivel chair. She headed out from her cubicle and walked through the empty office towards the coffee machine. Hermione had never cared much for coffee when she was younger but these days, it was the only thing keeping her awake.

After making some coffee, she returned to her desk. She sipped it for awhile, staring absently out at the sky. She heard footsteps approaching her on the polished wooden floor that, Pete, the cleaner, had polished hours before. Well, she heard them but didn't really hear them.

"Hermione?"

The sound of her name snapped her out of her thoughts. She looked up and found herself face to face with her best friend Ron Weasley. She blushed and looked away from him, tidying up papers; she spoke to him while doing so.

"What are you here this late for?"

"I forgot something and came back to get it. Never mind that though, what are you doing here? It's past midnight!"

"I, uh, had some work to finish" She said not being able to look him in the eye.

"Mione, why won't you look at me?" Ron inquired, fidgeting with his nails as he questioned her.

"I'm not, not, looking at you, I'm just looking elsewhere"

Ron took in her cubicle as she put things away. It was crammed with books and notepads. A calendar hung next to a small window, but it still had the month of May showing. Finally, realising she couldn't avoid him any longer, Hermione stared up at Ron. His red hair was quite long now, and nearly reached his chin, it suited him though. He came to being around six feet tall. His blue eyes as electric as ever, Ron still remained skinny though, never quite 'filling out', you could say. No matter how many protein drinks he made, or how many charms he cast, he couldn't form any real muscle. Sure, he was strong, but just, didn't look like he was.

"Mione, are 'we' okay?"

"Sure! Why wouldn't 'we' be?"

"Well, I mean, ever since things became serious between Romilda and me-"

"Romilda and I" Hermione corrected him automatically.

"Romilda and I, sorry. But ever since then, you've just seemed, unlike yourself. I thought that maybe it was because of the fact that you were a bit awkward around me after we broke up, but you weren't until Romilda came along-"

"Ron, are you implying that ever since you've found happiness, my life has, as you are trying to say, ceased to exist?"

Ron let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"Well, yeah. That's basically it-"

"I'll have you know Ronald that my life does not revolve around you and has not since last December. I can make a living, perfectly well by myself-"

"I didn't say you couldn't-"

"And need no one else but myself to survive. Now, if you excuse me, I have to get going, places to be, people to see" She said icily.

Hermione gathered her books, her wand, her bag and the cup of now, cold coffee. She turned off her desk lamp and left without another word to Ron, leaving him in complete darkness.

Usually Hermione apparated back to her parents house, where regrettably she still lived. She was planning to move out, in the next two weeks if possible. But tonight she couldn't face going home, not now, not after the confrontation with Ron. She quickly put on her coat and stepped out into the rain. It had been non-stop rain since Monday. Hermione, with her tan looked as if she was constantly disappearing to tropical countries, but she wasn't, she partially thanked her dad for his dark skin colour but also, she thanked a muggle product, it gives you a gradual tan – Nivea was the company's name.

To say she wasn't in the best mood would be an understatement. The truth was that she was extremely jealous of what Ron and Romilda had together. For nearly eight years Hermione had been in love with Ron. They'd dated, but it was awkward, like dating your cousin. So they ended it last December, for the sake of their sanity if nothing else. They remained friends; though when Hermione was around Romilda, she would get looks that plainly, if translated into words said "If looks could kill you'd be six feet under by now" off of the black haired girl. Hermione was actually convinced that she dyed her hair. It looked like it had come off one of those shampoo ads on her parents' television.

She walked through muggle London. Her coat was a summer coat, so basically she was soaked to the skin. Her bushy hair was matted and fell over her face as she braved the weather. She let her feet lead her to wherever they wanted to go; she was too lost in thought about Ron and Romilda. But when she returned to reality, she realised she was standing outside Harrys door. Hermione turned to leave but the door opened before she turned fully.

"Hermione, what are you doing outside in this whether? You'll catch your death, come in!"

Hermione stepped into the narrow hallway as Harry closed the door behind her.

"I went for a walk" she replied in answer to Harrys question.

He gave her a quizzical look, but said no more, for which Hermione was thankful. He led her into the sitting room, his TV was on. A movie was just after beginning. Harry handed Hermione a towel and she smiled gratefully. She shrugged off her coat and wrapped herself in the warm, fluffy towel.

"Hermione, what-"

"Can we talk about this tomorrow, please Harry?" Her chocolate eyes pleaded with him.

"Sure" He gave her one last look with his emerald eyes before turning his attention to the TV.

"What's on?" Hermione asked tiredly.

"Notting Hill"

"Ooooh, that's my favourite movie!" She tried to settle herself in the chair but couldn't. Harry beckoned her over and she curled up on the other end of the sofa to her best friend, sharing the towel and using it as a blanket between them.

The next morning Harry woke to a smell he wished he could eat. Following it with his nose, it led him to the kitchen, where he found Hermione, in a much better mood than the previous night, and she was making scrambled eggs and bacon.

"Morning" She called over to him happily.

He grunted his reply, as he hadn't fully woken up yet. His hair was mussed from sleep, and unconsciously he messed it up even more at the back, the way he'd seen his dad do it in Snapes Penisive. Noticing a very handsome amber coloured owl he shuffled over to the window. He took the Prophet off its leg and put a Knut in its pouch as its payment. He read that while waiting for breakfast. He knew not to offer a hand; it was Hermiones way of saying thanks for letting her stay over. Minutes later, breakfast was served and he realised how famished he was, he hadn't eaten since his dinner, at seven the night before. After a few minutes of silence he decided to get an answer to his question.

"Is there anything wrong Mione?"

"No" Harry looked at her, his green eyes boring into her brown eyes. Finally, he broke through her wall and she sighed, putting her fork down.

"Its Ron" she said more to her plate than Harry, "I saw him last night. And he said the usual stuff about him and Romilda" Hermione spat her name, "And for once I listened to him, really listened to him. He's really happy with her Harry. And I know there's no way we could ever get together again, but, I just can't stand the fact he moved on so quickly"

"Mione it was three months later"

"Exactly! You see there's no reason why I'm so bitter about his happiness but still, that's what I am." She looked at Harry, "I've become really bitter, over this and, I don't know what I can do about it. I'm in a vicious, descending circle, and I just keep spinning and spinning and now, Harry, I've no idea who I am. I mean, since the War ended, I've just been unable to move on. My best friend died, on my birthday. Hagrid wasn't supposed to die. He was Hagrid. He was our big, loveable friend. And at least I can say, with satisfaction that Rolphodus Lestrange deserved everything he got and I regret nothing I did to him." Hermiones eyes were glassed over, full of unshed tears.

Harry stayed silent, he was remembering Hermiones despair at the fact the Final battle had started on the eve of her birthday, everyone, on both sides fought for over 24 hours. And just as Hermione had remembered it was her birthday, she'd witnessed the male Lestrange kill Hagrid. Harry, every night had nightmares about what'd happened. They'd won the war, but lost so many people for it. Professor Dumbledore, Percy Weasley, Seamus Finnegan, Cho Chang, Professor Sprout, Hagrid, Micheal Corner, Padma Patil, Kingsley Shakelbolt and Tonks. Lupin hadn't been the same since. Nobody had. Everyday, the people who'd fought tirelessly against the Dark side, remembered those lost, and what they sacrificed in order for Harry to complete the prophecy. Harry himself, had fought his own demons, battling depression in the months afterwards. He'd lost, his first friend when Hagrid died, and it took him awhile to move on, he still hadn't, not completely and knew, deep down that he never would properly move on.

"Well, Mione, lets drink to that" They both raised their cups of coffee and drank from them, celebrating the fact that Hermione had attacked and beaten Rolphodus so brutally that he was still in a coma, all without the use of her wand. "By the way, if you hate who you have become, why not stop being that person?" Harry asked simply.

"I – because – I – we – it's complicated" Hermione managed at last.

After putting the dishes in the dishwasher, Harry led Hermione to his front door.

"Call by again sometime"

"I will" she promised.

"Don't forget to owl me"

"I won't" She gave a small smile as she put on her coat. Harry gave her a hug and then she disappeared into the crowds of muggle commuters passing his front door.

She bought a few muggle papers and found a quiet coffee shop. After ordering a coffee she immediately started house hunting. She pulled a pen from her bag and started circling the ones she was interested in.

Eventually, three hours and six coffees later, she'd narrowed it down to one. Hermione asked the waitress if she could use the phone. She dialled the number given with the advertisement.

"Hello?"

"Hi, I'm ringing to inquire about the house you have advertised in the property section of todays Sun"

"Oh, right, I take it you're interested?"

"Yeah, it sounds perfect"

"Are you in the area because I could give you a tour in awhile if you'd like?"

Hermione checked the paper. The house was in Cornwall.

Lucky for me, I can just apparate there.

"Yeah, I'm nearby"

"Okay, come on over"

"Er – what's your name?"

"Mark, Mark White"

"Okay Mark, I'll see you in a minute"

Hermione hung up and thanked the waitress. She collected her bag and left a tip. Outside Hermione shivered, she looked down at her clothes and decided she couldn't go and see a house in them as she'd slept in them. So, she found a dark corner in an alleyway and apparated back to her parents' house.

She quickly changed into a pair of jean and a cream, long sleeved top. She piled her curly hair on top of her head and put it in a messy bun, clipping it in place. Quickly, she grabbed her bag and apparated to just outside the address given in the paper.

She walked up the driveway and stood in awe, staring out at the sea, she'd always been mesmerised by the sea as a child. She dragged her eyes away form the sea and gaped at the house. It was a two-story detached house. It was a grey stone house with big Georgian style windows. It had a nice sized front garden too. It was not like depressing grey stoned homes in London, it was magnificent and illuminated by the small bit of sun Cornwall was getting. The front door opened and a man stepped outside.

Mark White looked to be in his late thirties early forties. By his clothes Hermione could tell he was well off and by his left hand happily married.

"Hi, I never got your name on the phone" He said to Hermione, shaking her hand as he did so.

"Hey Mark, I'm Hermione"

"Come in, come in"

It was Hermiones dream home. It needed a bit of work though. It had a traditional old style kitchen and dining room. There was a small utility room connected to the kitchen. The sitting room was a magnificent size, not too big, but not too small. It had a wonderful view of the front garden. Upstairs, there was a large master bedroom with an en-suite, looking out on the front garden. There was a slightly smaller room overlooking the sea, a small box room giving a view of the back garden and a main bathroom, along with a hot press.

"So, how much is it?" Hermione asked Mark, biting her lip fervently. She loved this house and as she was intending to quit the Ministry, she would have all the time in the world to do it up.

"£440,000"

Hermione stared at him, her eyes bulging. She had a lot of gold; she'd received nearly a whole vault full from the Ministry for her part in the downfall of Voldemort. But she'd been intending to give it away as she didn't want it.

But, maybe I could use it for myself, just a small bit, to pay for the house, then I could give the rest way.

Hermione muttered away to herself trying to convert her galleons into pounds.

"Todays rate is 1 galleon to £2.0166" Mark told her.

"Thanks", Then she froze, "Wait, you're a wizard?" She asked stunned.

"A squib", He said somewhat sadly, "My wife's a witch though".

Hermione smiled at him, "I'll take it"

They spent the next few hours making phone calls and signing sheets. Hermione apparated to Gringotts and collected the money needed from her now full vault. By six o clock everything was signed and sealed.

"So", Mark asked as he led the way out of the house, "When do you want the keys?"

"Um…now?" Hermione asked.

He chuckled as he handed them to her.

"Take great care of this house Hermione"

"I will. Thanks Mark, for everything"

He got into his Mercedes and drove away. Hermione turned and closed the door to her house. She leant against the door and squealed. She finally had her own home. And it wasn't just any home. It was her dream home.

A/N: I hope its okay, no Fred until the next chapter; this is kind of a background chapter, one to introduce you to Hermiones personality and, of course, the house! Let me now, if there's anything I can improve on.

Love, FireboltPheonix.

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