This is my first serious fan fiction, and I've chosen my favourite couple to work on. I have another story in the works, but that is really to try out plot lines, and unraveling. So I'm pretty excited for this one! Please be kind enough to read, to review, and to be kind in your reviews.
I will take care to not Weasley-bash, even though it's very tempting and is the easy way out. I hope too, to be able to write something to justify the rating, but for now, I'm just laying the seeds.
I do not own Harry Potter. Though it's the only book that has stayed with me for so long.
Enjoy! And share your thoughts with me.
She wandered about her house, straightening some cushions, drawing the already curtains closer shut. Hermione Granger was leaving to school for the 7th time in 8 years. She was ecstatic about being able to go back to school (ah, good old Hoggy, warty, Hogwarts) again, but leaving her home brought back some harsh truths. Her absent parents, for once…she was yet to trace them and return their memories. It was 3 months since the legendary battle between Harry and Voldemort, and she had barely a pinch of information about her parents. Since she'd be at school until the holidays, she'd decided to let the house for that short period.
Looking at her watch, she let herself out of the house, locked the door, then stuck her wand arm out to the street. She jumped back on the curb as a purple double-decker bus wavered into vision, and a familiar conductor jumped down to take her trunk and Crookshank's basket.
"Hey there, Ms. Graanger," he drawled, "Welcome aboard. Say, am I glad to see you or what? Can I get an autograph?" and then proceeded to blush furiously. "Stan!" said Hermione admonishingly. "Call me Hermione."
"You hear that?", he crowed to the bus. "Call me Hermione, she says. We're friends, that's what we are."
She gave a small smile and settled in her seat. Some of the passengers were still in bed and fast asleep. But to avoid the attention and the unnecessary conversations she'd always attracted, she took out her 7th Year Transfiguration textbook, and pretended to read it. She wondered about the past few months.
"Do you reckon it will ever be the same again?", Neville had asked at an Order dinner a month or so ago. Even though Voldemort was dead, there was still the fallout from the war to be dealt with, and everybody looked to the Order to take the lead. Harry shook his head to Neville's question. "Never." And Ron and Hermione knew that he was thinking of Dumbledore, and the Deathly Hallows he had disbanded. Of Severus Snape's sacrifice, and of the call from beyond the grave of Lily, James and Sirius Black.
Remus Lupin had joined then at that moment and clapped his hand on Harry's shoulders. The Lupins had had a close brush with death. Nott had thrown a curse at them that would stop their hearts slowly. Both of them had fainted from the exhaustion of keeping their hearts beating for each other, and everybody had mistaken them dead. When their fingers stirred as they were gathering the dead, it was like a warm dose of Butterbeer down their parched throats. Hermione would never forget how Harry had collapsed in Lupin's arms and cried his heart out for an hour. They were closer than they had ever been these days, and it made Hermione glad.
Luna also danced up to them and addressed Neville. "I can show you the Niumpots this time. Come Halloween, they breed so fast. Neville avoided the three friends' questioning, amused gaze, and said, "I thought you said you've seen them only at Hogwarts, Luna."
"Yes, but we're all returning aren't we?"
Everybody including Neville looked startled. Okay, Hermione thought, maybe Lupin hadn't started. He'd known all along.
"Um, Luna. Give them a chance to get their owls," Lupin had muttered.
"What?", Harry had exclaimed. Luna answered, "They're reopening Hogwarts. And this time we'll be Eighth Years. The only eighth-years in the history of Hogwarts. You gotta agree, Hermione, it is an honour." She tranced away, and left a stunned silence behind.
Harry turned to Lupin, "Is this true, Remus? They can't expect us to come back, seriously?"
"Oh, but we do, Harry."
"We?" Hermione interrupted. "You'll be there, Lupin?"
"Yes, I'm the only one brave enough to test if the jinx on the job is gone with Voldemort's death." Ron flinched at the name, but everybody pretended not to notice. Lupin turned to Harry, "We know that you're the bravest wizard that's ever lived, but your education is incomplete. If not for its sake, come back for your career's sake. You'll need to figure out where you'll be working, what you'll be working for. Focus on trying to find your passion. I think, Harry," and he looked at the others too, "that this year you can all attend school without Voldemort on your minds."
Ron said, "Blimey, school again?" Neville's face was slowly breaking out into a grin.
Harry was running his hair through his hair, like he always did when deep in thought. Remus turned to leave, and Hermione called, "Goodbye Lupin" Remus turned, and Hermione wondered if he was going to insist that she call him Remus, like he's done once before. But he said, "You're going to have to call me Professor, Miss Granger." He winked, and walked away.
Harry grinned, and then snickered. "Cool. It's going to be all Boggart Tea-parties, then, I guess."
The bus suddenly appeared at King's Cross and Hermione fell out of her chair and into a poor old lady's bed. Muttering something between an apology and a curse, she descended. She took a deep breath. School. What she did best. One more year before she went to face the world. One year of dinner cooked by someone else – elves, in fact-no, she wouldn't go there- and one more year of boy-troubles. Ron! She thought. "I've been so used to 7 years of being friends, I forgot we're dating." she mumbled, as she stepped through the barrier into a steamy mist. She heard a nervous chuckle near her ear, and a voice, "Did I hear you say 'dating'?" She dropped her trunk, and enveloped him in a big hug. "Is the Chosen One afraid that his stomach can't stand the sight of his best friends dating?" she teased. He chuckled again, "Getting used to it." She squeezed harder, and breathed in the smell of him. She sighed, "We made it, Harry." He squeezed her back silently, taking in the moment. Over his shoulder, she saw Ron approaching. This year, the Weasleys seemed a shrunken clan, even though Fred and George hadn't always come to see them off. But now there seemed to empty spaces between the group, as if they were making place for someone who was yet to arrive.
She let go of Harry, and hugged Ron, immersing herself in the feel of his red hair under her fingers. He was stiff, and gave her a nervous smile as she stepped back. Poor Ron. Not used to this anymore than I am, she thought.
They all piled on the train, which was a few coaches longer, to accommodate a year more of students. Heads turned as they passed the carriages, but Harry simply didn't care anymore. He'd accepted far worse images of himself the past year, and this adoring attention would have made him just as uncomfortable, but he was indifferent. Suddenly, Ginny popped out of a carriage, and insisted Harry join them. He did so, blushing slightly. Since she didn't ask the other two in, they politely took the hint and wandered away. Hermione wondered if there was a 'them' that Harry was joining, or just sneaking in some alone-time. She grinned. Soon they'd snagged an empty carriage.
Comfortably settled, Hermione said, "You know, I think there's something going on between Luna and Neville. Did you notice?"
Ron said blandly, "The war makes people do funny tings, my mum says."
Hermione looked aghast. "I think they're very cute together. Anyway, the war doesn't affect Luna that way.", she laughed. "They're like us." she said softly. "The war made them realize that what they'd wanted was right under their noses all along."
Her smile slid off her face when she realized that Ron's fists were clenched. "What's wrong?", she asked. He stuttered, "H-Hermione, don't you think – we did what we did…because we were under pressure to-protect Harry, to fight, to stay alive?" There was a rushing sound in Hermione's ears, but the train hadn't started yet. She spat out, "What? Ron, what are you-"
"Maybe we thought we liked each other because we knew we wouldn't live through the war. Maybe it was all just a-"
"Mistake? Is that what you're saying? Maybe we thought we liked each other? Maybe we knew we wouldn't live through the war?"
She was on her feet now, and crying without realizing it.
She sobbed, then eyes flashing, drew herself up. "So you thought you'd date me because you figured we'd be dead in a year. Now that you're alive, I don't look like a good investment, DO I?"
Ron flushed, and shook his head. "That's not what I meant. You know I'm never good with words. But- "
"Yes, you spoke more words right now than when you asked me to date you."
At that moment, the door slid open and Harry stepped in. "There's the word again, date…" and his voice trailed off at the sight of them nose-to-nose, but evidently with a different passion than he's expected.
"What's wrong?" he asked, anger seeping into his voice.
Hermione took 2 steps to the door, said, "Everything's peachy" and slammed it shut.
I know the chapter is reeeaallly short. Even by my warped standards, it's pretty short. But depending upon the response, I'll take up more and more of your time to tell my story.
Review please! Puh-retty please!