Disclaimer: Okay, don't own anything, except for Cate, who is a projection of my imagination.

Thank You, to everyone who has read, reviewed, and added my other stories to their favorites. It makes me so happy to read reviews (hint hint…leave lots of them…)

The Magical Wardrobe:

Harry Potter walked into History of Magic. This class bored him out of his mind; he regretted not dropping it when he had the chance. Sighing, he took a seat between his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Professor Binns floated in through the chalkboard and began another long, seemingly endless lecture on the goblin rebellion and how Roforth the Rough lost his entire military treasury by betting against Cassandra Trelawney, a very talented Seer. Trelawney. The name sparked recognition. Ah! Of course , Professor Trelawney. Damn her. Damn her and that stupid prophecy that had made his life hell. Nothing could assuage the huge weight on his chest. Would he live to see seventeen? Would he be able to spend his birthdays with his friends? Would he get married, carry on the Potter name?

He caught Binns giving him a rather ugly glare and he immediately turned his eyes to the book open on his desk. A tiny slip of paper caught his eye. It was wedged almost intentionally, by the looks of it, into the spine. He pulled it out gently, trying not to rip it; he could make out some writing, but couldn't read anything. Finally, he gave up and inverted the entire book, shaking it hard. The paper fluttered softly to the ground and landed near the desk leg. As he bent down to pick it up, he noticed Hermione shooting him a cross glance. He ignored her. Upon further inspection of the note, Harry noted that it was not the thick, rough parchment that they usually used; instead it seemed to be a glossy, shiny paper, like Muggle photo paper. He opened it up and read:

Harry,

Come to the Room of Requirement tonight at ten.

He stared at it for a minute. It seemed to be Hermione's writing, but she wouldn't resort to writing him a note about such a trivial matter, would she? Unless it was about Ron…and she didn't want him to know…He tried to catch her eye, but every time he shot her a questioning glare, she ignored him. He sighed. He would have to wait until ten that evening. Damn.

At nine forty, he grabbed his wand, invisibility cloak, marauder's map and headed out. Hermione had already bid the boys good night, and he assumed she would be waiting there. "Where to, mate?" Ron asked him with a yawn. "Come with me." He said, and without waiting for a reply, pulled Ron under the Cloak with him.

They padded up silently to the seventh floor, Ron holding both the lit wands, and Harry's eyes never leaving the map. On the way, Harry told Ron about the note. And sure enough, Hermione's dot was anxiously pacing the seventh floor corridor. They pulled off the cloak to see Hermione run towards them and hug both of them. "Oh I'm so glad you two are alright!" she choked back a sob. "Hermione, of course we're alright," Ron said, pulling himself gently away from her, but keeping a protective arm around her.

"Why'd you send Harry that note?" she looked up at him, brushing tears away from her eyes. "I d-didn't send anyone a note." She said quietly.

"Then explain this." Harry thrust the paper into her hand.

"I didn't write this, Harry, Dumbledore did." She said, slipping the note into his pants pocket. Harry stopped in his tracks, making Ron bump into him from behind with a lound "oomph"

"Dumbledore?"

She nodded, and retrieved a similar slip of paper from her own pocket. Ron snatched it form her and read aloud :

Miss H. Granger:

Please report to the seventh floor corridor. You are in great need there. Immediately.

Signed,

Headmaster

"Look!" Harry cried suddenly. A great oaken door had materialized before him. He glanced at the other two, pulled out his wand, and opened the door. Inside was a huge, but completely empty room. The walls were painted a dull blue-gray and there was no furniture at all except for a small wooden table right in the middle of the room, so small it could have been a stool. The trio walked towards it brandishing their wands, jinxes at the ready.

It was plain, carved crudely. Hermione started rotating around it, rubbing her fingertips cautiously over the rough oak. "What are you doing?" asked Ron, highly amused. She shot him a Look. "I'm checking for markings, Runes, engravings, things of the sort." She murmured. Finally she stood up. "Nothing." But Harry saw something she hadn't.

"Look, a piece of parchment." He said, picking it up. "It's a prophecy." Ron rolled his eyes. "Right, anything to do with Divination is a waste of time, I'm going back to bed." Hermione smacked his arm. "Ronald, shut it! Read the prophecy, Harry."

Something that plunders your thought

Mentioning power that only you have got

Take a break and call out to me

And I will see

That you are informed of your destiny.

Suddenly a cloud of blue smoke interrupted their thoughts. A young girl appeared in front of them, around their age. She was wearing black jeans, combat boots, and gloves. She had on a leather jacket, an ice-blue top, and jet-black hair streaked with blue, along with ocean blue eyes. Her nails were menacingly long and painted black.

Harry could feel Hermione cringe just by the look of her. He had to admit, she did look intimidating, as if she could throw him out with one good punch. She jumped off of the table and held out her hand. "Hey Ron, nice to meet you." Ron gulped and shook her hand wordlessly. She nodded to the other two politely. "Harry, Hermione." She pushed herself onto the table and examined them carefully, but not too eagerly.

"Well, well, well…" she ran her tongue across her teeth seductively.

"Well, what?" Hermione muttered irritably.

The girl's eyes immediately turned cold. She locked them into Hermione and gave her a death glare, to which Ron responded with a laser stare of his own. If Harry wasn't scared of both the newcomer and Ron beating him to a pulp, he would have found the situation rather comical. He allowed the staring contest to continue for thirty minutes before clearing his throat and addressing Ice Girl.

"I'm sorry, but can we help you in any way?" he asked politely.

She snapped her gaze away from Hermione "Unfortunately, it is I who has to help you." She said in a bored voice, examining her fingernails. "The headmaster has asked me to assist you in a decision-making process, which will hopefully speed your extricating the memory from that walrus of a professor of yours."

"Do you mean Slughorn?"

She waved a dismissive hand. "Yes, whatever his name is."

"Er..all right then…go on."

"Dumbledore sent me to inspire you. You are allowed to glimpse your future as of this moment onwards. Mind you, it can be changed, so this isn't permanent at all. But you will most likely subconsciously change it. Clear? Excellent." she hopped off her perch without waiting for a reply. "What's wrong?"

"How do we know you aren't a death eater in disguise?" Ron said suddenly, pointing her wand directly at her face.

"Because if I were, I wouldn't bother knowing there is a prophecy, or that you—" she turned an accusatory glance at Hermione "are obsessed with house elves. Or that Harry is captain of the Quidditch team or that you two are prefects—need I go on?"

"Erm..no?"

"Good. Now I'm going to show you a glimpse into your future. I'll have to obliviate you, of course, later, but it's fun while you're at it."

"This—this is a joke?" harry was flabbergasted

"No. the memory charm only works well at eliminating 90% of the material. That way, in dreams, or premonitions, you are warned about your decisions before they actually happen."

"Why? Who are you? And why have you come here? Do you just go around, showing people their futures?"

"No. but since you three have such a great amount of influence on the world, it must be deemed necessary. And I am Cate, goddess of magic."

"As—as in Hecate?" Hermione timidly spoke

"Yes, Hermione Jean, as in Hecate. I'm glad you realize that magnitude of your sin."

"I'm extremely sorry. I did not realize—"

"Of course you didn't. Now, do you want to proceed, or should I just return to my home?"

"No, no! We'll see our future." Harry spoke quickly.

A slow, sadistic smile spread slowly over her face. "Excellent. Follow me." She jumped down from her perch and purposefully strode towards a wardrobe, which Harry could have sworn hadn't been there when they originally walked in. It was intricately carved with symbols and Runes, but when Hermione tried to stop and read them, she was shooed away very loudly by Cate and another staring contest pursued between Ron and Cate. Harry once more cleared the tension by asking, "Do we, you know, just waltz in the cupboard?" At this, Cate grinned quite evilly.

"Mmm-hmm." She opened the door and gestured inside. "Ladies first."

Hermione shot her a Look and quickly disappeared into the cupboard. A minute later they heard a strangled yelp and a WHOOSHK.

"Hermione!" Ron frantically threw himself inside but Cate caught him first.

"No will do." She held him tightly in a death grip and appeared to be counting in her head. At some imaginary number, she nodded and let go of Ron, who promptly thrust himself inside the closet. After several minutes, though, the WHOOSHK sound wasn't heard; instead a loud thump met their ears. Cate sighed melodramatically. "Oh, Merlin, what has the poor boy gotten himself into now?" she yanked open the door to reveal a sprawled out Ron, very red in the face. "For the love of God, can you walk two steps without completely falling all over the place?" she shouted. Pulling him up by the collar, she forcefully pushed him inside the cupboard. And sure enough the WHOOSHK was heard.

The cupboard was opened for the third time. Cate gestured Harry in. He wasn't exactly sure about her…maybe he shouldn't have let Ron and Hermione go…he definitely shouldn't have let them go…Chest heavy with guilt, he pointed his wand at Cate.

"If you are the goddess you claim to be, you can tell me something about me even Ron and Hermione don't know."

Cate didn't flinch. Directing her steely gaze into Harry's shining one, she said in a very clipped tone, "You fancy Ginny Weasley immensely." And with that, she jerked him into the wardrobe. He was absolutely stunned. He had exactly one second of reflection and surprise before that WHOOSHK sound was heard and he felt the same sensation he did while Apparating, dark, compression. He closed his eyes and willed the horrible feeling to pass quickly.

He tumbled out of the cupboard a minute later, collided with Ron, and ended up in a tangled mess of limbs. He could feel Hermione chattering away instructions, pulling him to his feet. Ron was cautiously peering through the door, which was open just a crack.

"Where are we?" he finally asked

"By the looks of it, Grimmauld Place."

Harry's head snapped up. "W-What?"

"Yeah, but its all redecorated, and actually…clean."

"Is it where I live, in the future?" it made sense; after all, he already owned a house, why not live there when he's older?

"Yes." Cate stepped out of the shadows, "this is where you live, in the future."

Hermione made to open the door, but Cate grabbed her arm, rather roughly, Harry noticed.

"Don't go, not like this. Do you know how to perform Disillusionment charms?"

"No, but I have my invisibility cloak."

"It'll interfere with the futuristic cloak, the magic will be split."

"So, Hermione," Ron said facing her, "up to some spell work?"

"Why does it always have to be me, Ronald? You try doing some work for a change, it won't kill you."

Ron and Hermione bickered and Harry rolled his eyes. Cate copied him and rapped him on the head smartly with her finger and he felt the familiar sensation of water running down the back of his neck.

"Hey, where'd Harry get to?"

"I dunno, maybe he's—oompf!" Hermione collided straight into Harry, who was of course, invisible. She fell back, but Ron caught her by the waist in the nick of time, making her blush furiously. When he set her back on her feet, she reached a tentative hand out and it connected with his face.

"I'm invisible."

"Yeah, I figured that out, thanks.

"Here, lemme do you as well," Cate reached across and tapped both Hermione and Ron on their respective heads.

"Cate?"

"Mmm?"

"How many years into the future are we?"

"Well, to know a real difference, I've decided that twenty four, twenty five would be a nice whole number."

"So we're …how old?"

"Forty one, forty two."

"And, Cate?"

"Mmm?"

"Can you see us?"

"Of course I can."

"How?"

"Well, knowing your personalities, I've assigned each one of you a color, and I see you accordingly. Your outlines are also visible, but only to me."

"What if our future selves use homonem revelio?"

Cate tapped her chin with the end of a nail. "I dunno, good question, but I'll hopefully be able to tactfully distract them. Now go." And saying so, she pushed the three teenagers out of the cramped cabinet to meet their future selves.

Harry got the strangest impression he was looking into a mirror. A black-haired, bespectacled boy stared back at him, with the same beautiful green eyes he himself was blessed with. The only obvious difference was that the boy didn't have the trademark scar Harry did. Plus, this being 24 years into the future, he still couldn't look sixteen…could he?

Ron stared at the shirt draped carelessly across the back of a chair. It had Auror Weasley stitched on it. There were many Weasleys, but he couldn't oppress his heart from feeling a surge of accomplishment. Maybe, just maybe, it was he? Perhaps he had redeemed himself, no longer the faithful sidekick, but a hero of his own?

Hermione gazed at the silver-framed family photographs set on the mantle. The first showed Mr. And Mrs. Weasley, looking a bit older, but otherwise, the same as always. The second showed Bill and Fleur with three children, the eldest daughter looked to be a Veela, taking after her mother, the second had the trademark Weasley hair with natural blonde highlights, and the third was a boy, also with the attractive silvery-blonde hair and clear blue eyes. She moved on to a second picture, Charlie posing with a horrible looking dragon, very ghastly. As her eyes shifted to the third picture, she noticed something. All of these pictures were taken the Muggle way, none of them were moving. The third frame showed Fred, no George, no Fred, well, one of the Weasley twins, anyway, with Angelina Johnson, who was holding a baby in her arms and a little redheaded boy was sitting in his father's lap. She shook her head. Of all people, the Weasley twins were THE MOST IRRESPONSIBLE people she could think of for fatherhood…Hopefully, that changed, somewhere along the way. The fourth picture came into sight. It was undoubtedly Harry, with his arm around Ginny. Ha! I knew they fancied each other! Harry held a little redheaded girl in his lap, and two young black haired boys peered up into the frame. The older had brown eyes and a very mischievous grin. The second was a carbon copy of Harry, down to the glasses. She thought they made an adorable family. She was about to turn away, but a last frame caught her eye. Unlike the others, it was framed in blue, the very same color, she realized with a jolt, as Ron's eyes. She looked inside, and her heart almost failed to work. Inside, was undoubtedly a very handsome man who had to be the older Ron. And there she was, sitting next to him. Only it wasn't her at all. Her hair was straight and short, and she was wearing makeup, and a very fancy black dress. In between them sat a little girl, bright eyed, and with frizzy ginger hair. And in Ron's lap sat the most beautiful baby boy Hermione had set her eyes on. He had most of Ron's features, the long nose, the crooked smile, and the ocean blue eyes. But he had straight, coffee-colored hair, no frizzies, and that's what pleased her the most. She tore her eyes away from the pictures and ran off to find the boys.

She found them in the kitchen, where her future self was cleaning the dishes, the Muggle way. Future Hermione leaned over to turn on the garbage disposal, and a horrible clanking noise was heard, before it shuddered and came to a stop. She leaned inside, rummaged inside the soapy water, and emerged with a fork, horribly twisted, and definitely unrepairable, even by magic means. The shout that followed would have awoken Lily and James Potter, who were now dead for nearly half a century.

"RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY!"

He came thumping down the stairs, unfazed. "Yes mum?"

"DON'T YOU DARE!"

"What?"

" THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT!" she chucked the deformed fork at his head.

He dodged it and missed it by inches. "Mione, why can't you just do them the normal way?"

"BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO!"

"Oh, come on Hermione, it just stress—"

"JUST STRESS? JUST STRESS? HAVE YOU ANY IDEA WHAT I'M GOING THROUGH? DO YOU HAVE A SINGLE CLUE? EASY FOR YOU TO SAY, JUST STRESS! DO YOU KNOW WHAT? YOU'RE FIRED, RONALD!" and with that, she stormed form the kitchen, slapping the dishtowel down, and stomping up the stairs.

The present kids were left with a mixture of bewilderment and shock. It seemed Ron had failed to notice that the fourth finger on Hermione's left hand was occupied by a rather large rock, shiny and glinting. Ron turned to Hermione slowly, obviously not having registered too much. "Was I just fired by you?" he asked Hermione meekly.

Okay, maybe he did pick up something after all.

Footsteps on the stairs interrupted their thoughts. The same bushy haired girl Hermione had assumed was her daughter came bounding down the staircase. She was tall and lanky, freckled, and tanned. She had her hair wrestled back in a ponytail, but strands escaped nonetheless. She strode into the kitchen and pushed herself back onto the counter.

"Dad, is Mum alright?" she asked Ron, who was finishing up the dishes, yes, the Muggle way.

Ron finally cottoned on, and nearly fainted. Luckily Harry was able to support him.

"She's fine, Rose, love, just extremely strained with the upcoming election and all."

Present Harry turned to present Hermione and mouthed "Election?" She shrugged in reply.

"Does she always get like this, before exams and all?"

"Rose, darling, your mother is a brilliant woman, and you have to allow her space when she gets strained. Usually it's for no laughing matter, but this time is exceptionally serious. She has to run a country, and there's no doubt in my mind she's the best candidate, but unfortunately others judge her on her…blood status, which quite frankly, is despicable." Future Ron wiped his hands and offered the girl—Rose?-his hand. She accepted and leaped down, and when she pulled away, three shiny Galleons could clearly be seen in her palm. Hermione turned to Ron, face red with a mixture if exasperation and fury,

"Did you just bribe our daughter?"

He shrugged. "I guess, dunno for what though."

A young boy slid down the banister excitedly. "Dad! Dad! The Cannons are on! Against Puddlemere United! Wanna come listen?"

It was the same baby boy from the photograph. Hermione was so happy she was the mother of such a sweet little boy.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and whispered to Harry. "He'll turn on the radio and listen to the Cannons lose for the billionth time, what say?"

Harry shook her hand. "Deal" he whispered back

"Just a minute, mate." Future Ron said. "I'm coming."

Future Ron rummaged in the fridge, waved his wand, and arranged a tray. It had a cup of tea; jam toast and a yellow tulip in the corner. He carried it up the stairs.

Present Hermione's hand flew to her mouth. He had just made dinner for her! The bumbling, endearing idiot had grown up some in the past 20 years or so!

And this time, Present Ron could very clearly see the gold band around his fourth left finger. When future Ron took it off to finish the dishes, present Ron picked it up and examined it. It had two letters engraved on the outside,

RH

Which was, without a doubt, Ron and Hermione. He smiled. She finally did come across.

Future Ron was followed by the three of them up the stairs. The first landing was the girl's—Rose's—and was lined with books and maps and diagrams.

"She takes after you, Mione." Ron whispered. She smacked him on the arm, she was still sore about losing the bet, not that she would pay up on her own, but it still hurt her to know that she had lost to Harry, a bet about knowing Ron—Ron, of all people!

The trio continued and another landing was passed, this one belonging to the little boy Hermione was so in love with. It was lined in orange, Chudley Cannons posters waving merrily from every angle. She cringed. This one was definitely Ron's son.

"And he takes after you."

Future Ron climbed up to the master bedroom; Hermione was feeling very awkward. The things that went on in here…undoubtedly, she had placed several silencing charms on the walls.

Future Ron opened the door, levitating the tray with his wand. He rest it on the side table and reached for the shaking, sobbing mass of sheets, curls, and tissues that was, without a doubt, his Hermione.

He pulled her into his lap, and she just lay there, crying. He rubbed her back and whispered soothing words in her ears. She soaked his shirt.

Present Ron wanted to melt into the floor, into a little puddle, and just flow away, anywhere, anywhere but here. It was so awkward! He turned beet red and just stared at the floor. He didn't notice it, but Hermione did the same.

Harry was grinning ear to ear. Fred and George owed him exactly twenty galleons, adding up all the bets they had placed on Ron and Hermione. They all knew Ron fancied Hermione, but now he knew for sure she loved him back.

Future Hermione stopped crying, and fell asleep. Ron laid her on her back and tucked her in, and kissed her on the forehead. Her carried the untouched tray downstairs and then snuggled up with his son to listen to the Cannons lose for, as Hermione put it, the billionth time.

The present kids stood around awkwardly. Suddenly they heard a particularly loud hiss from behind the curtain. The three glanced at each other before pulling out their wands and gradually walking towards it. Harry pulled apart the curtains to reveal Cate, holding three large bags.

"Thank Merlin!" she gasped, unloading her arms into Ron's. "I thought your future self wouldn't ever leave!"

"It wasn't his fault." Hermione said quite fiercely.

Cate turned cold. "You'd do good to watch yourself, Hermione Jean."

Once more, Harry broke the tension. "Should we-"

"Yes, let's go…" Cate levitated the bundles to the sitting room, where Hermione Summoned some butterbeer and sandwiches from the kitchen.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Hermione, stealing food? I would have never have expected this from a prefect." Ron teased her.

"Ron, it's our food, but if you feel so strongly, I won't give you a sandwich."

"No! no! no! no! I wanna sandwich, I'm hungry."

"Should have thought about that, right?"

"Wrong. Now give me a sandwich."

"I will not." Hermione stood up and held his sandwich above her head.

"Yes—you—will." Stretching up, he tried to dislodge it from her grip, which was way stronger than what he'd expected.

"No I won't!" she slipped out of his reach and darted behind the sofa. He followed her, or tried to, anyway, before he was stunned by a sinister jet of red light. Ron had been stunned, and Hermione was to blame. Harry quickly got up and performed the countercurse, and Ron awoke.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, magic isn't allowed!"

"No one said so."

"I said so."

"And?"

"And I'm an Auror, so you better listen to what I say." He didn't mention 'your husband', though he would have sorely liked to.

"You're a what?" she was caught off guard, and Ron seized this opportunity to throw a well-aimed Body-Bind at her. She keeled over senseless, and Ron punched the air. "Yes!" he lunged and grabbed the sandwich out of her rigid hand. But try as he might, he could not pull it out of her fist, which was clenched tightly around the bread.

Harry took pity on Hermione and muttered "finite". She came back to life and started punching Ron. "You—idiot—horrid—pig!"

When she was done beating the living daylights out of him, she pointed the wand at the sandwich and Vanished it. "HA! Now, what was that about being an Auror?"

Suddenly they heard a rapid fluttering movement on the landing above. Instinctively, they drew closer. "Oh come on," huffed Cate loudly. "They won't hear a thing, I've put a sound ward around us. Now pray tell, Weasley, what about this Auror business?"

"Well…"

"Yes, do tell us, Mr. Weasley." Ron walked over to the chair, picked up the monogrammed shirt, and pointed to the embroidery. "See? Auror Weasley."

"Ron, there are seven of you."

"And? Bill and Charlie have already got jobs, the twins have the shop, Percy is at the ministry, which leaves Ginny and me. Do you honestly think she got a job as an Auror? Gin, really?"

"You never know." But even Hermione sounded skeptical.

"She's a lot braver than you think." Harry's response came out harsher than he intended.

Ron arched his eyebrows. "Really?" he shrugged, though continued to watch Harry particularly closely throughout the rest of the night. Hermione yawned. "I'm actually rather sleepy."

Cate nodded. "It has been a tiring day." She waved her hand and all four sleeping bags rolled out simultaneously. Cate and Ron settled at opposite ends of the room, and when Hermione rose to join Ron, Harry grabbed her arm.

"What?"

"You still owe me." He smirked. Her spectacular loss had not gone unnoticed.

She groaned and handed over two galleons.

Hermione snuggled into the sleeping bag next to Ron. He was already asleep, chest rising and falling rhythmically. She got married to him. She got married to him. She got married to him. And had two kids with him. Oh, Merlin.

The kids. Those two beautiful children she saw. The baby especially. He was hers, completely hers. But the fact that irked her the most was that she didn't know his name. She didn't know her own son's name. How stupid she must look, sitting here in the dark, trying to guess her own son's name! Hermione drifted off to sleep, images of the littlest Weasley boy swimming around in her mind.

She got up early, it was still dark. She looked around the room. Cate was gone, her sleeping bag left in a messy pile. It looked like she had left in hurry. Harry was still snoring, and so was Ron. Quietly, she got up and decided to explore the room in search of clues to what else happened to the three in the future.

She crept down to the basement, gently opening the door, which she expected to creak, and found herself in a large room, lined with books. Whose was it? She turned and saw yet another shelf full of photographs. She paused to examine them.

One was rather large and framed in gold. It showed Harry and Ron in tuxedos, and Hermione and Ginny in long, white bridal dresses. Their wedding! Apparently they had had a joint wedding, with a large number of guests in the background. Funny, she'd always thought Ron and Harry would be each other's best man, and she and Ginny, the bridesmaids. She looked beautiful, her hair piled on her head with an elegant veil, and Ginny with her fiery mane cascading down her back. All four were laughing and smiling, both the brides sporting large diamonds. Hermione smiled. Her fairy tale did end happily ever after.

The next picture showed a young purple-haired boy zooming around on a miniature version of the Firebolt. Harry was chasing after him, but the child was gleefully flying out of his reach. She frowned; she didn't recognize this kid, and had no clue who he was…but purple hair meant surely meant a metamorphagus, right? And the only one she knew was Tonks….shrugging her shoulders, she replaced the picture on the shelf.

The next one showed herself and Ron, only here she was pregnant, and looked to be about…twenty-four? Twenty-five, maybe? She was holding a tiny bundle of flailing limbs and tears were flowing freely down her face. Ron had his arms around her shoulders and was whispering something in her ear. Was she holding Rose?

The last portrait was a much older Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and the same purple haired boy. In front of the adults were five kids, a Harry clone, Rose, Hermione's baby boy, a little redheaded girl that had to be Ginny's daughter, and a black-haired boy with a roguish glint in his eye. They were standing at Platform 9 ¾, and three of the kids were wearing new, black Hogwarts robes.

Hermione felt her knees go weak. This was a tad too much to take in; it hadn't even been 24 hours since Cate had mysteriously popped up into their existence. Cate. How she wanted to like her, wanted to get along with, her, but it's almost as if the hard-headed goddess purposely belittled her. She sat down on a box next to her. It felt strange, like something was ploughing into her thigh. She looked down and saw a plastic label poking itself into her leg. Picking it up, she flipped it over and read it. It was written in Ron's messy scrawl.

Articles Charmed for our eyes only (yes Rosie, no luck. I know you're smart, but you're no match for Auror training and your mum)

Grinning, she slid off the box and unlatched the heavy metal clasps. Inside were neatly labeled folders, these were in her hand, with glossy magazines, folded newspaper clippings, and cut-out articles, all concerning herself, Ron, Harry, and sometimes Ginny.

Curious, she unfolded the first, Harry's engagement announcement.

The Chosen One's Chosen One. Oh, How original.

Earlier this week, war hero Harry Potter proposed to his girlfriend of seven years, none other than Quidditch star, Ginevra Weasley. Rumors are that Weasley is expecting, and that Potter's proposal was only appeasement for Weasley's parents, to whom a child out of wedlock would be certainly shameful.

There is no word on how Hermione Granger is taking the news, who was Potter's original love interest. She is rumored to be dating Potter's best friend, and soon-to-be brother-in-law, Ron Weasley. of the Auror department. And yes, Ginevra is Ron's sister, and rumors are that after Granger dumped Potter, both went for second best, in other words, the Weasleys. While Granger is only going for Ron to make Potter jealous, he himself has roped himself into a sticky situation, close friends say.

More when it comes. As of now the wedding is planned for late March, only a month after the proposal, confirming the rumored pregnancy.

Hermione was so mad, she stopped reading, ripped the article in two and set it on fire. How dare they! This was absolutely ridiculous!

Disgusted, she rifled through the newspaper clippings. One was a birth announcement, announcing the birth of... Hugo William Weasley. Hugo. That was her baby's name. Of course, she always did like Victor Hugo, Les Miserables was one of her favorite novels. But Ron wouldn't have liked naming their child Victor. Hugo William Weasley. It was perfect. Hugging herself in a very satisfied way, she turned to the box once more. And found some more information.

A death anniversary tribute to Fredrick Weasley. She cried

A birth announcement of Fred Weasley II. She cried some more.

Her graduation announcement. She felt satisfied that she received a complete education. But why weren't Harry's and Ron's names on there?

Article commemorating Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes international expansion. She laughed

An entire article on her wedding ring, with her on the cover of the magazine. She rolled her eyes.

James Sirius Potter's birth announcement, featuring her and Ron as godparents. She cried, but out of happiness.

A newspaper cutting with an attached picture, with her on the front, beaming. She quickly scanned the article. "House-Elf Liberation Act-Successful, by Hermione Weasley." she read it again. And again. After checking it was actually and wholly genuine, she threw it up in the air, pumped her fist, and yelled "YES! IT PASSED!" so S.P.E.W. hadn't been a total waste of time! Ha! She proved Ron wrong! She laughed and screamed with happiness. Her life went toward something good after all.

She sat down on the floor and took a moment to just take everything in. Suddenly the door burst open and Ron staggered into the room, tripped over the filing box, and landed on top of her.

"AHHHH! Honestly, Ronald, what the hell is wrong with you?

He blushed. "Sorry, Mione, I-I ." he turned redder and looked away.

"What? I didn't hear a thing!"

He turned, if possible, even redder. "I thought you had been attacked." he said quietly.

"Oh. well, erm..." She looked up into his face. "I haven't."

"Yeah..."

"So can you get off me?"

"Oh, ...yeah, erm.. sure." and he hastened away. But before he could rush off through the door, something caught his eye. His own face, smiling and happy, along with Hermione and Harry and... Ginny. It was James's birth announcement. His face scanned the article about his best mate and his sister having a kid. Having a baby. He felt his ears burn, and could almost see his blood pressure go up. He was sixteen, for crying out loud! He shouldn't have to put up with hypertension at such a young age! Fighting to keep his face natural, he gently picked up the article, hands shaking almost visibly now. He heard his name being called, but didn't pay attention. He was too busy concentrating on Harry's hand in the photo, protectively holding on to Ginny's shoulder, pulling her closer to him and peering over her shoulder at the squirming bundle in her arms. How could that traitor do that to him? His best friend! He was going to kill both him and Ginny, right now, for good measure. Then he remembered he was in London, and nowhere near his sister, so she would have to wait. Slowly, he drew his wand and spun on his heel toward the door. Debating whether to use an Unforgiveable or not, he smacking his face into—what? There wasn't anything there… or so he thought.

Hermione called Ron's name, but the git was too busy fuming over Ginny that he didn't notice her desperate call of PROTEGO. He walked into the shield charm, and was knocked over backward from the impact of the clear, tough barrier. "What the bloody hell?" he fumed, picking himself up and rounding on Hermione. She remained calm, and walked over to him. She gently placed her hands on his shoulders and forced him to bend down. His defenses were probably at its lowest when she was in this proximity, and even she had to admit, it was becoming a little difficult to think straight when she was close enough to kiss him. But she could not digress; this was absolutely important and essential to the future. She had to make sure Harry did not die at Ron's hands, for one, it would be quite difficult to explain anything to Ginny.

She looked up again into those amazing blue eyes, now dark with fury. "Ron," she said quietly, "Listen to me." He swallowed nervously. She was right; he was having trouble concentrating on Harry with her face inches away from his own.

"Harry is your best friend. He is your brother, quite literally. We become his son's godparents. He is our best friend, and he won't do anything to intentionally hurt you." She breathed deeply. Why, oh why did he have to wear that amazing cologne? At this rate she'll…no, focus Hermione, focus. "I want you to walk over to him, give him the article, and watch him read it. All right?"

Ron shook his head firmly. "No, no, no, no, no." Hermione grabbed his collar and yanked his head lower so they were almost eye to eye. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes." She said, staring deep into the oceanic depths of his eyes. They held a little staring contest, but finally Ron gave in. "Fine." He conceded. He turned away from her and stepped to walk out through the door. Hermione followed him, clutching both their wands tightly in her fist. She had taken it from him sometime and he had been too busy to notice. Hopefully she would be able to make sure he wouldn't Avada Kedavra harry. Oh, poor, poor Harry.

They entered the living room hand in hand. Harry was looking through an old photo album and was looking a little bleary-eyed. Ron sat down next to him in the mass of upturned sheets and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward in Harry's presence for what seemed like the first time in his life. "Er…hi." Harry stared at him quizzically. "Hey. What's that?" he said, pointing to the clipping in Ron's hands. Ron mumbled something incoherent and shoved it into Harry's hands. He quickly skimmed through the passage, his cheeks getting steadily redder and redder the further down the paper his eyes traveled.

"Listen, mate, I—" but Ron cut him off. "Look, I mean, Hermione's like your sister, right?" Harry clamped his mouth shut and nodded. "So, I guess, I'm…returning the favor? Just, just be good to her."

Suddenly, a purple spark appeared out of nowhere. It fizzed and exploded, releasing a cloud of smoke.

The smoke clogged their nostrils and clung to their eyes. They coughed and attempted to clear it away. Finally, it disappeared, leaving a very harassed looking Cate in the middle of it. She looked horrible.

Bags hung under her bloodshot eyes. Her lips were cracked and dry. Her hair hung limp and sorry-looking, and vivid highlights of the previous day were gone. Her clothes were crumpled and her boots torn. The feared black nails of the previous day were replaced by ragged, chipped ones.

"Cate? What's the matter? You look…terrible." Hermione spoke cautiously, afraid of the fiery-tempered goddess.

"It's broken. The portal. The portal's broken." She whispered. Her voice was cracked from lack of use. "We're stuck here."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all exchanged looks of horror."

So….Whaddya think? Lemme know what I should put up in the next chapter, I have it outlined, but none of the details are definite. Review please!