Hermione sipped the last of her espresso and gently laid the cup down. 'Thank you, that was a lovely meal.'

'I'm glad you enjoyed it.' Justin glanced at his watch. 'We'd better get you back for a good night's sleep; it wouldn't do to be late in the morning. Mother asked if you could - told me to tell you - to be there for breakfast, which will be at 9 o'clock. I've had us connect to the floo network, by the way; it needed to happen eventually. Just ask for The Cedars.'

Mrs. Finch-Fletchley - Hermione would not be able to call her by her first name until after the wedding - was a quite formidable woman to have as a future mother-in-law. 'I'll be on time. It will be strange not spending Christmas Day with my family, though.'

Justin reached across the table and took her hand gently in his. 'My family are your family, almost. Only four months.'

Hermione glanced down at the flawless two carat solitaire diamond glittering on her finger. She had always meant to ask Justin to prove to her it had been properly certified and wasn't a blood diamond, but it was so pretty she'd never been able to bring herself to ask him. Anyway, she was certain he'd never do anything immoral.

'I know, and we'll be seeing my parents on Boxing Day.'

'After the shoot,' he reminded her.

She looked down. 'You know I've never really agreed with hunting.'

Justin lifted her hand and kissed her finger tips. 'It's an old tradition, but if you don't want to learn you can stand there and look pretty, as always. Speaking of four months, you did hand your notice in didn't you?'

'No, I forgot.'

'Hermione! You're on three months notice. You'll have to do it first thing in the New Year.'

'Do I have to give up work?' she asked, as they rose from the table and he wrapped a fur stole, loaned by his mother for the occasion, around her shoulders.

'I keep telling you,' he replied, 'you're not giving up work. If I'm going to get this import/export business up and running I'll need you beside me. The house needs to be ready when we entertain, and wives need to be looked after…'

'I'll just be a hostess.'

'No, you'll be my partner and your role will be essential. George Weasley does a bit of trading with his joke shop but nobody else is organizing proper business with overseas communities. If we get in early and do it properly we'll have twenty percent of everything wizarding Britain imports and exports eventually, and we can make that market grow.' He kissed her on the cheek. 'We're going to make a fortune, the two of us together.'

Justin led them to a safe area to apparate from, down an alleyway behind the restaurant and kissed her goodnight. With a final smile and wave they popped out of sight; she to her flat, he to the family mansion they would one day inherit.

-o0o-

With a sigh Hermione packed the last of her clothes into her bag, grateful yet again for the Undetectable Extension Charm she had learned so many years ago. Why she needed three changes for tomorrow - different outfits for breakfast, dinner and the evening - she couldn't quite work out. At home they managed to cope with something smart but casual for the whole day. Then there were all the warm things she'd need to stand in a freezing cold field for hours watching birds being blasted out of the sky.

Once they were married Hermione decided she would start working on Justin, getting him to loosen up a little. His homelife was still like something out of the Victorian age, with all its formality and ritual.

She looked at the clock, just before midnight. It was time for bed. Then came a knock at the door. Not carol singers, not at this time on Christmas Eve.

'Who is it and what do you want' she called out, slightly aggrieved and making sure her wand was to hand.

'Hermione, it is I, Minerva McGonagall.' Hermione stepped back in shock at the reply. It was a voice she had not heard for nearly three years, on that final visit before her old Head of House and Headmistress, wearied by the last war, had passed away.

'Whoever you are that's a pretty sick joke. I suggest you sod off before I do you some serious harm.'

'Hermione, please. I am who I say I am. Please let me explain.'

'If I open that door you'll be hexed into…'

'I am your Boggart, if you remember back to your third year DADA examination.'

Hermione stopped. There were only two people in the world - two people alive, anyway - who knew that. Harry wouldn't play a trick on her and Ron wouldn't be standing at her door. Not now.

'If you're who you say you are why do I have to open the door? Why not just walk through it?'

'Common courtesy. I have lost my life, not my manners.'

That seemed a reasonable response so Hermione opened the door a crack, making sure her wand was pointing through the gap. Death had been kind to McGonagall. The strain and suffering had gone from her face. She seemed younger, glowing almost.

Hermione threw the door open, already wiping away tears. 'I've missed you so much!', she cried. They had grown very close when Hermione returned to Hogwarts to complete her seventh year. She was considered an adult by the staff and so spent most evenings in the Staff Common Room. It had been wonderful just to sit and talk and, in Minerva, Hermione finally found her intellectual equal.

Minerva was dead before Hermione finally split up with Ron, so she had nobody to turn to, no shoulder to cry on. Her mother had been very brisk and business-like about the whole thing. The fourth time she'd pointed out there were plenty more fish in the sea Hermione had rather lost her temper and, despite the Reparos she used on the dinner service…and the ornaments…and the TV set, her mother had not spoken to her for several weeks.

'I know, my dear. I am so sorry I could not be there when you needed me. That is why I have been allowed to come back now.'

'Why now? I'm sorry, where are my manners? Please, come in.' She indicated a chair and Minerva sat. You would have had to be a very good observer indeed to notice she did not touch the seat.

'Are you a ghost? I always thought you'd move on.'

Minerva smiled at her. 'I have moved on so, no, I am not a ghost. A spirit made corporeal for a short while would be a more accurate description. I assume you will want to know why?'

'Yes, please.'

Minerva adjusted the folds of her robes about her and gained a few seconds of thinking time.

'Hermione, you are about to make the biggest decision of your life and, it is felt, you are going to do so without complete information.'

'You mean marrying Justin?' Minerva nodded, 'What information am I missing?' Her eyes automatically went to her ring. 'You mean he's a bad person, or something? Is he hiding things from me? Should I not marry him?'

'Calm your self. He is none of those things and would make you a good husband.' She took in the confusion on Hermione's face. 'Even so, it is thought by several people that you should be, perhaps, given the chance to see a broader picture. To see, even now, what your alternatives are.'

'Does everybody get this? Nobody else has ever mentioned it happening before they get married. Why me?'

Minerva considered her hands for a long moment. 'Guilt,' she said, quietly. 'Albus still feels terribly bad about what we did to you.'

'Professor Dumbledore? What did you do to me?' Hermione thought for a moment. 'And, in that case, why are you here and not him?'

Minerva held her hands out. 'He is too embarrassed to face you. Hermione, you were treated very shabbily by the magical world. We took you and educated you, knowing how brilliant you were, but we never explained things properly to you, or tried to protect you from the many dangers you faced. We…oh, my word, we were willing to sacrifice you because we knew how important you were to Harry. As long as you helped him to finally overcome Voldemort you were…I'm so sorry; we all are. For that reason we have been allowed to assist you, this one time, to come to the right decision.'

'So what is "the right decision" and how do you know I haven't already made it? I love Justin and he loves me, and I'm going to marry him.'

'We are here to assist, and nothing more. None of us will try to tell you what to do, or give the definitive answer, for there is no such thing. Only you can know if your final choice is correct for you. But, please, indulge us.'

'Very well, but don't think for one moment I am going to change my mind.' Then Hermione sat up straight. 'Hang on. You said "We" and "None of us". How many visitors am I going to get, and how long will it take? I need to get some sleep tonight.'

'You will receive three visitors, of whom I am the first. We are able to grant you deep and satisfying sleep after our visits have finished, so you will not be fatigued in the morning.'

'Who are the other two?' Hermione clapped her hands. 'Will one of them be Professor Lupin and Tonks? I'd so like to see them again.'

'Technically, as a pair, they would be two visitors of course, but unfortunately it is not them. I cannot tell you who the others are, but they are people who know you well, perhaps better than you know yourself. Shall we begin?' Minerva stood and held out her hand. Hermione rose and joined her.

'Where are we going?'

'The past. The person who does not know where they came from does not know where they are going.'

'That was very profound. Who said it?'

'Me, my dear. I am renowned for my intelligence and insightfulness.'

'Sorry.'

-o0o-

It was just like apparating, only totally different. The closest Hermione could come to describing the sensation was to say that it was like walking through a wall of very dry water. And that was the closest she could come…

They came out on a low hill overlooking Hogsmeade, with the sun shining from a clear blue sky although the air had a decided chill to it.

'Do you recognise where you are?' asked Minerva, kindly.

'Hogsmeade, obviously,' replied Hermione. 'Judging by the trees I would say autumn.'

'Correct. It's Halloween, 1993.'

Hermione laughed. 'My first ever visit to Hogsmeade! Harry didn't have a permission slip so I came with just…' She trailed off, already lost in reminiscence.

'Your first date with Ron Weasley.'

'No it wasn't!

Minerva raised an eyebrow. 'That's what you wrote on a piece of parchment you then used for some homework.' Hermione reddened. 'I removed it before handing the piece back to avoid any embarrassment. You often used to write things without realising it. I suppose you don't remember handing in one piece as "Hermione Weasley" do you? It would have been in your fifth year, I think.'

Hermione gasped and put her hand over her mouth, her blush deepening. 'Did I? I never realised.'

'Actually, Hermione, I just made that up. I wanted to see if you would deny it. Ah, here you come.'

They looked so young, almost skipping along the path. Ron was constantly cracking jokes and making puns, causing Hermione to giggle. Occasionally they would brush a hand across an arm and at one point Ron put his hand on her shoulder to direct her gaze on to something in the distance.

It was the same when they got to Hogsmeade, rushing from shop to shop and buying things and then sharing them. They looked so relaxed and happy. Maybe, perhaps, it was being out of Harry's shadow for a while. They were children on an adventure, but this time it was nothing more than fun. For once they could act their age.

'Our first date,' she said to Minerva. 'It was, really, even if we didn't admit it.'

'Yes, it took you a while to realise, didn't it? Even I knew before you did.'

'Really? How?'

Minerva smiled. 'I will show you; it is time we moved on anyway.'

Once more Hermione felt the strange sensation of dry water flowing over her skin, before they arrived in the most familiar location of all; the Gryffindor Common Room, her second home. However, her memories were soon disrupted by very, very familiar voices.

'Well, if you don't like it, you know what the solution is, don't you?'

'Oh yeah? What's that?'

'Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!'

Hermione blushed yet again. She always hated it when she lost control of her temper but that hatred of herself simply ended up being directed outward towards whoever happened to be in the way. It shouldn't have happened. Her intelligence should have taken control, but it never did and she ended up looking exactly like her younger self did now; a screaming harridan with a scarlet face, wild hair and flashing eyes.

'Are you trying to tell me it proves I was in love with him?' she asked Minerva.

'Have you ever lost control like that with anyone else?'

Hermione thought for a moment. 'Only Draco Malfoy, but don't even suggest it!'

'I wasn't going to, although love and hate are merely opposite sides of the same coin. Now, what next? Ah, yes…We must visit a classroom.'

Even without knowing what was going to happen next you could feel, almost taste, the tension in the room. Harry stood awkwardly in front of Hermione, who was sat on a desk with a small flock of yellow birds circling her head.

'Please, Minerva, not this one, please.' Hermione was close to tears. Of all the terrible things that had happened to her in her life, this was the one that could still cause her to wake up crying. It had been the ultimate betrayal, because it had been done in such cold blood.

'Very well, but you must see the next scene. It is the most important I will show you, though not the last you will see.'

She was in the tent, curled up in an armchair, hugging herself and crying quietly. Through the entrance flap Harry could be seen. Occasionally he would turn his head and make to get up, before sitting back down and resting his head on his knees. Wave upon wave of desolation flowed out from Hermione and there was a sense she was crying not out of sadness, but of hopelessness. The brightest of her generation didn't know the answer, this time, and was lost.

Hermione felt an arm around her shoulders and gave Minerva a hug in return.

'Why were you crying, my dear?'

Hermione wiped her eyes and nose on the back of her hand. 'Because I couldn't help him. He was at his lowest ebb and we'd made him wear that horrible locket and I couldn't help him when he needed me. He didn't leave because he was scared and I couldn't make him see how much we needed him, how much I loved him. He thought he was alone, and it was my fault. Please, can we go?'

-o0o-

They were back in her flat, Hermione sat in a chair still sobbing. Minerva, from somewhere, produced a cup of hot, sweet tea and Hermione took it gratefully.

'I love him.'

'Love or loved?'

'No, Minerva, love. I do still love him, but in the same way I love Harry. Maybe that was our problem; maybe we confused loving each other with being in love with each other.'

She took another swig of tea and looked up, now calm and collected.

'But that was all, as we saw, in the past. I love Ron. I know we can't go back even to being friends, for years maybe, but I'll always love him. I'm in love with Justin, though, and I'm going to marry him.

I know what you're trying to do and I am grateful, but my past is not my future. Please, can you stop the others coming?'

Minerva shook her head. 'I don't think I'll be able to stop them, just as we are not trying to stop you marrying Justin if that is your choice. Now, I must take my leave of you.'

Hermione stood and hugged Minerva. 'Will I see you again?'

'Only in the normal course of nature. Goodbye, Hermione. Live the life you choose, and enjoy it. Now sleep.'