Disclaimer: I own only the plot and Mr. Lehman and Martha Thomas. The rest of the characters belong to JK Rowling, either appearing in the series or Quidditch Through the Ages. The song "Have a Little Faith in Me" belongs to John Hiatt. Also, at some point you may think that I've totally abandoned canon for no apparent reason; this is not entirely true. The end of "Heir" will change the plot and this, while not a continuation of that unfinished story, is in the same AU "universe".

Hermione slammed the door behind her, shaking off the cool rain droplets that were clinging to her skin. She deposited her bag and keys by the door along with her coat, gloves and scarf. These created a soaking, dripping mass in the foyer that wouldn't be noticed till the next morning which, when noticed, would instigate profuse amounts of profanity.

With much effort, she lugged herself to the kitchen where she poured herself a glass of water and a glass of wine. Balancing both glasses in one hand she grabbed an apple and walked into the living room. It was dark outside; it seemed that she never saw her house in sunlight. She came home long after it had gone down and left before it fully rose.

Crookshanks rested in his corner of the couch, purring softly like Hermione's radiator. She switched on the TV and landed on the evening news which she had on to ease the silence of another lonely night.

Hermione's flat was bare. She hadn't even bothered to unpack all of her bags so random packages of lord-knows-what speckled the small space. The walls were grimy with an eggshell backdrop and the carpets were an indeterminate shade of gray. All of her furniture was either "borrowed" off old friends or bought at garage sales.

After the Second Rise ended with Voldemort's narrow defeat, the wizarding world was left with no one to blame for the destruction left in the war's wake. Their dear Minister of Magic was gone, Cornelius Fudge had also passed, Albus Dumbledore, gone so, by default, the three musketeers were the likely candidates for scapegoating. They had been, after all, the closest living people to the conflict, so it was assumed that they were somehow to blame.

They couldn't do much to Harry because he was, well, Harry Potter, not to mention that his two guardians would make them rue the day. Ron had firm roots in the wizarding community; but Hermione, well Hermione was perfect. She was an outsider with no real connection to magical London aside from her Hogwarts attendance. Rather than have them chase her out, Hermione vanished without a trace and found herself in a small, Scottish town with no money and very few belongings. Truth be told, she didn't really need the anger of the wizarding public, her parents' death was reason enough.

So Scotland was where she remained. She couldn't get a job in the magical community because Ron and Harry would find her so she got a muggle job which quickly turned into muggle jobs. It was tough to get enough money to keep herself in her flat and keeping herself busy was the best way to take her mind off of everything. As a typist, Hermione worked in a small office in the town square. Her boss, Mr. Lehman, was a corpulent, ill-tempered, self-absorbed, male chauvinist pig. She earned a mere stipend and had to work as a waitress at a pub down the street in the evenings to make ends meet.

The news contained very little of interest. The two newscasters, "Jen" and "Bobby" made inane jokes that were, supposedly, over everyone else's heads. The weather man once again forecasted rain for the entire week. Hermione sipped her way through the whole bottle of wine, which was supposed to last her the whole week.

Eventually, Hermione switched off the TV and brought the glasses and apple core back to the kitchen. She deposited all three into the sink and continued on to her bedroom. She pulled on a nightdress and brushed her teeth before flopping down on the mattress that sat in the middle of her floor. Crookshanks hopped up and snuggled in beside her, just another night in paradise.

"When the road gets dark
And you can no longer see
Just let my love throw a spark baby
And have a little faith in me"

Four years, it had been four bloody years since she'd last seen a familiar face. Something had been deeply brewing in the hearts of both Ron and Hermione but the war had changed everything. They could no longer tiptoe around some inconsequential childhood crush. They'd seen people die for God's sake! They'd thrust their feelings aside, only allowing room for one love, the death of Voldemort. Hermione would be lying to herself if she said she didn't still have those feeling, but no one else really cared anyway.

At around five in the morning, Hermione was roused by the annoying sound of her telephone ringing angrily in its cradle. "Hello" she mumbled sleepily.

"Hermione?" the voice was incredibly familiar and she found herself jolting awake.

"Who's this?" she asked hurriedly.

"Herms, don't hang up okay. I can't believe this; it's amazing."

"Who the Hell is this?" she asked again, a tremor coming to her voice.

"Herms, it's Ron. I-"

"How did you get this number?" she interjected.

"You're listed," Ron answered, not fully believing it himself. Hermione's insides squirmed. Of course she was listed! Why else had they sent her a phone book she never used? She couldn't believe her stupidity. "Herms, it's great to hear your voice again. I, we've been looking for you for six years now. I always check phonebooks and things whenever I come into a town but I don't think I ever fully believed it would work. Bloody Hell, it's just so great to hear your voice."

"Yeah, well, just-your mind-forget it Ron. You won't hear from me again okay? Don't try calling again; I won't pick up." She dropped the phone unceremoniously into its cradle and buried her head in her pillow. Up until that moment, she had at least been able to delude herself into thinking that she was okay. Ron's call had brought to light the fact that she was absolutely, completely, and utterly miserable and all she wanted was her old life back. Unfortunately, that was not possible. The death of her parents and countless others of importance prevented that from ever becoming a reality.

The next few days played out sluggishly. She acted even more morose than usual because, for that brief minute before she spoke on the phone, she had caught a glimpse of what her life could have been. She also found herself more wary than before. She half expected Ron or Harry to jump out from behind a filing cabinet or from under a table. Neither did though and she was alone again, more depressed than ever before.

It was a particularly stormy night. Hermione stumbled through the door of her block of flats and up the stairs. She fumbled for her keys and fit one into the lock, only to discover that the door was already unlocked. She heard stirring and gripped her umbrella tightly in her fist. As she swung the door open she raised the umbrella with a mighty roar, almost hitting a very surprised Ron Weasley over the head. "Hermione!" he yelped in surprise. "I've been waiting for you for hours." He caught her in a tight embrace that quite caught her off guard.

Half from fatigue and half from relief, she collapsed in his arms, dry sobs racking her body. "Come now Herms, it's alright," he murmured, supporting her over to the couch.

"I-I-I" she managed before falling again against his chest.

"Shh, shhh, I've something marvelous to tell you," he whispered, "But first, you must eat. You're so thin!" He sounded amazingly like Mrs. Weasley. "I got here and was going to fix you some dinner but you have absolutely nothing in your kitchen! I went over to the market and got a couple things. You like pesto don't you?" She nodded and allowed herself to be lead into the kitchen where a sauce pan sat bubbling merrily on the stove. "I know tea doesn't normally go with pasta but you look like you need something hot." A few moments later Hermione and Ron sat at the depressingly scraggly table (a very old, brown card table) with paper plates of pasta, beer steins of tea and a mixing bowl of bread.

"So, what I have to tell you. Remember when, right after the war there was that rumor that people were after us?" Hermione nodded uncertainly. "Well, it was true, I won't deny that, but it was mobilized by Draco Malfoy and a bunch of other family members of those we'd thrown in prison. Anyway, a few months after you left, the whole thing was sorted out. Atticus Croaker, he was an Unspeakable before the war, was officially named the Minister of Magic. We've exhausted every lead, every tiny clue to find you Herms. It's all over; you can come home with me."

Hermione dropped her fork mid bite and cradled her aching head in her hands. "It wasn't just that," she muttered. Ron breathed deeply.

"I know Herms but you're not happy here, I can see that. If you were, things would be different. I could probably leave you here and just accept it but you're not happy. At least if you came back we could help you. You deserve a good job, you deserve family and friends." Hermione sighed deeply, tears spilling down into her tea.

"And when the tears you cry
Are all you can believe
Just give these lovin' arms a try baby
And have a little faith in me"

"I wish it were that simple," she said softly, fingering a rip in the tablecloth.

"It is that simple Herms."

"I've just lost so much that I can't see-"

"Hermione, look at what you've lost coming here. You're living in a run down flat; you're barely eating. You haven't got any friends here; Hermione, this isn't you. We've all lost people. I know your loss is particularly acute but Herms, but we can help you. There's a job waiting for you if you just come back. We could leave tonight." Hermione bit her lip. Never before had she wanted something so much yet been so averse to it.

"Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me
Have a little faith in me"

"Hermione, could you come back for me?" She looked down at her hands. He loved her, and he wanted her back. A resolution grew in her stomach like an orb of light and spread out through her body, warming her cold feelings and bringing her back to life.

"Yes, I could come back for you," she murmured, barely audibly. A grin split through his face and he pulled her into his arms. He pulled her lips to his and her warmth spread more quickly, turning into an electrical current that shot through her veins like fire. Her icy lips melted into his. Her icy fingers melted onto his neck. It was an eternal millisecond before their lips parted. "I love you," she spoke with a quiet assuredness that had not belonged to the new Hermione.

"I love you too," he said. He had not changed much over the years. He was slightly more muscular than before, having lost that lankiness that belongs to youth. His hair was floppy and he had grown into his features (ears not included). His eyes were still the old chocolate brown she had loved so much but they had grown a deepness that he had not had in his early years. "So, should we leave tonight?" he asked, his old eagerness still there.

"Tomorrow, we'll leave tomorrow. I have to tell my landlord and my bosses and-"

"I've got the picture Hermione," Ron laughed. "Now eat." she turned back to her food, happier than she had ever thought possible.

"So, how is everyone?"

"They're good. Fred finally got married to Angelina. Their wedding was last March. Percy got married two years ago and, surprisingly, she's not a total bore and has done loads to pull that stick from out his arse. She's the Keeper for the Pride of Portree, Meghan. They have one child, Alice. She's three," he said this last part with raised eyebrows. "Ginny and Harry are still dancing around the whole marriage thing; I think Harry's been hoping we'd find you. George is still very much the bachelor as was Charlie till a couple months ago. He and Tonks-you remember her don't you?-well anyway, they started dating and have gotten rather serious. Bill and Fleur are still together though they haven't got any children yet; Mum's ready to have kittens over it. Sirius is still dating Hestia Jones. Remus is engaged to his girlfriend, Agatha Chubb she-"

"She's an expert on ancient wizard objects isn't she?"

"So you didn't change completely I see," Ron snorted, grinning at her. She gave him a forced but non-the-less sincere smile.

"And what about you?" Hermione asked, dreading the answer, dreading that he had found someone and she had just, single-handedly, mucked up everything for him.

"I never found the right person I suppose. You, well, you know Hermione, you're the only person I ever imagined growing old with." His face went scarlet immediately.

"When your secret heart
Cannot speak so easily
Come here darlin'
From a whisper start
Have a little faith in me.

When your back's against the wall
Just turn around, you will see
I will catch you, I will catch your fall
Just have a little faith in me"

The evening passed much less strained than either had expected and Hermione found herself smiling more than she had in years. With everything washed and cleaned up, however, the discomfort set in. "So, I suppose I should-"

"Go back to your hotel?" Hermione asked too quickly, wincing. "I mean, you don't have to-I-"

"Well, I-we could, um, I suppose I probably should. . . I could come by tomorrow morning, early. I could bring breakfast and. . . "

"Yeah, or you could kip on the couch or, well, there's a-"

"Or you could come back to the hotel, I mean, I have two beds and I'm only using one. . ."

"That would be nice actually," Hermione said finally. "Just let me collect some things." She left him standing in the doorway while she hurried to her dresser, flinging her least ragged looking ensemble into an old grocery bag along with her nightdress and delicates. She emerged, flushed and grinning sheepishly. Ron looked good, she had to admit. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. He had pulled on his black trench coat and was examining the cuff with apparent fascination. "I'm ready," she murmured, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.

"Oh, good." He took the grocery bag from her as she pulled on her own ratty jacket and grabbed her purse. "There's a safe apparation point around the corner. I'll tell you where-"

"Um, I don't, well you see, I threw away-I don't have my wand any longer," she spit out, tears threatening to escape.

"Wow," Ron breathed, pulling her close to him as they stepped out onto the street, an icy rain pelting their skin. "It's okay Herms, really. We'll just do side-long, that is, if you trust me."

"I trust you completely," she whispered into his chest. She pulled closer to him, absorbing his smell-a mixture of soap, cinnamon and citrus. "With everything."

By the time they got to the hotel, it was nearing midnight. They hurried passed the reception desk and up the rickety staircase. Ron searched his pockets and finally found the little key. "It's not big but it's warm," Ron said as he led her in. "The lavatory's right over there, if you want to, you know," Ron blushed again and busied himself with his coat. Hermione nodded and deposited her own coat on the bed. She washed her face at the sink and pulled on her nightdress. When she emerged, Ron had on an oversized Chudley Cannons T-shirt and a pair of checkered pajama bottoms.

"Is this bed mine?" she asked, pulling her hair up into a ponytail. Ron nodded and she crawled in.

"Do you mind if I turn on the radio?" Hermione shook her head. She had fully intended to stay awake but as soon as her head hit the soft, clean pillow, she was out. An hour later, Ron switched off the radio and looked over at her in the lamplight. She looked perfect, loose tendrils spilling across the pillow, her red lips pursed slightly and her long lashes almost touching the pillow.

"Well, I've been loving you for such a long, long time baby
Expecting nothing in return
Just for you to have a little faith in me
You see time, time is our friend
For you and me there is no end
And all you gotta do is have a little faith in me."

Hermione woke to the sound of voices at the door. For a moment, she didn't know where she was and thought that the night before had just been one magnificent dream. Slowly, the fog around her brain cleared and she was able to recognize an eerily familiar voice other than Ron's. "Why didn't you floo me last night?"

"We got here late and I didn't want you bursting in. She's in a bad way Harry. I've never seen her like this. She doesn't even have her wand anymore, let alone use it. I don't know; it just felt right."

"Wow, she doesn't even have her wand? That doesn't sound like her at all. She looks so thin too; your mum's going to have something to say about that."

"I'm hoping we'll be able to avoid my mother for a bit. She's not ready to be mobbed."

"Well where's she going to stay Ron?"

"Where's she going to stay? Come on Harry, think. I'm not used to being the smart and rational one. Come on, it's not that hard; she'll stay at our flat."

"But we've only two bedrooms. You don't really expect her to sleep on the couch do you?"

"Of course not! I'll give up my room for the time being. You should have seen the hell hole she was living in before. Anything would be an improvement."

"I'm just glad you found her Ron. I was beginning to loose hope."

"Me too." Hermione could feel their steady stare on her and she supposed now would be as good a time as any to join the conversation. She opened her eyes and drank in the sight of them. It was almost like old times except that both were looking at her with a mixture of sympathy and apprehension.

"'Morning," she mumbled, pushing herself up on her elbows to get a better look at Harry. He was slightly taller, more muscular and had different glasses but he still had the same perpetually tousled hair.

"Hermione!" Harry hurried over and threw his arms around her, causing her to loose her balance and fall back on the bed. "I've missed you!"

"I've missed you too. Where's Ginny?" Hermione asked, returning the hug. Harry sat down on the side of the bed, blushing profusely.

"She's back in London. The minute Ron flooed me, I left. I'm actually supposed to be helping her move into her new flat."

"Oh. Wait, what time is it?"

"Around half passed eight." Ron answered, glancing at his wrist watch. "Why? Wait, Herms, what are you doing?" Hermione had jumped out of bed and was frantically looking around for her bag of clothes.

"I was supposed to be at work and hour ago! He's going to kill me!"

"Who's going to kill you?" Harry asked, now standing as well.

"Who else? My boss, Mr. Lehman."

"Herms, you were only going to go in to quit. What's it matter if you get sacked?" Ron put in.

"I know but I didn't want to do it this way I-"

"Hermione, you have to calm down or I'm going to have to stun you," Harry said, brandishing his wand threateningly. Hermione looked at him, glaring but worked to slow her rapid breathing. "Here's what we're going to do. You're going to take a shower and get dressed. Then all three of us are going to go to your office and you're going to quit. Is that understood?"

"I don't need a body guard Harry," Hermione pointed out, starting to realize things were not going to go back to normal very quickly. "I'm not a child."

"Herms, that's not what Harry meant at all," Ron soothed. "We just want to be with you as much as possible. Plus, if this prick has added to your obvious unhappiness I might want to, you know." Ron made a series of vivid hand gestures that made both Harry and Hermione raise their eyebrows.

"Okay, just give me a second alright? We'll have to stop by the pub too."

"Why?" Harry asked before Ron could stop him. "You in need of a pint?" Hermione blushed and shook her head.

"It's my other job." Harry fell silent and stared at his shoes. It wasn't so much that Hermione had two jobs. It was that she seemed so unlike herself and that she had settled for not just one job she didn't like, but two. Hermione escaped into the bathroom with her newly found bag. She emerged ten minutes later looking reasonably put together. She wore a knee length floral skirt, a white t-shirt and a green sweater with a stain on the sleeve and a small tear on the left shoulder. She smoothed her hair self consciously.

"So I'll lead you there yeah?"

"Why don't we ap-" Harry began, quickly cut off by Ron's fervent head shaking.

"We'll take the bus," Hermione ordered, stepping out onto the street, wrapping her coat around her. Ron and Harry quickly took either of her arms as she led them to the bus stop around the corner. She had been to the hotel several times for her company's annual Christmas party. They got there just as the bus was pulling up and boarded. Hermione dropped a couple of coins into the box; frugality no longer seemed important. The three settled into a row near the back. "So, Harry, how did Remus meet Agatha Chubb?"

"Oh, they met at Flourish and Blotts oddly enough. They reached out for the same book at the same time and the rest is history. They really seem to suit each other, though it is rather hard to get either of them to do anything when there's a library available to them. You'd, you'll really like her Herms."

"I'm sure I will. We'll be there in a couple of minutes. It's not a terribly large town." The next few minutes proved Hermione right and the three found themselves facing a gray, depressing building. Hermione took a deep breath before walking forward. She walked slowly to the reception desk where Martha Thomas sat, filing her long, red nails.

"Hello Martha," she greeted nervously, flanked on either side by Ron and Harry.

"Oh, Mr. Lehman's right pissed at you isn't he. An hour late, well I never. I didn't think you'd have the guts to even show your face. I'd have just waited for my last check. Who are these men?" she asked, her vindictive tone changing to one that was both high pitched and saccharine sweet.

"Oh, this is Ron Weasley and he's Harry Potter. They're old friends. Harry, Ron, this is Martha Thomas."

"Pleased to meet you," Martha extended her hand and smiled suggestively.

"Will you two wait here? I'll be only a moment." Harry and Ron nodded hesitantly, partly out of protectiveness and partly from the sheer horror of being left alone with Martha. "Good, thank you." Hermione pushed through the double doors to the right of the reception desk. Mr. Lehman was standing at the water cooler, a small cup of water in his hand. When he caught sight of Hermione, his face turned bright red.

"GRANGER!" he yelled. Heads popped up over cubicles and Hermione looked to the floor, examining her tattered Mary Janes. "How dare you come back here? I was left in the lurch this morning wasn't I. Have you any explanation?"

"Well sir, I'm leaving town. . .today. I've come in to offer my resignation from this post," Hermione said quickly, not looking up at Mr. Lehman's now purple face with his shaking jowls and cold blue stare.

"Your resignation?" He then splashed Hermione with the water in his cup. "You ungrateful little slag-" he wasn't able to finish his tirade though as Harry and Ron burst through the door.

"You bloody bastard!" Ron exclaimed, stepping between Mr. Lehman and Hermione. "She's quitting this horrible job that didn't even pay enough to keep her in her apartment, by the way. You say one more word to her and you'll find yourself without a few functioning parts."

"Yes, I'd watch yourself," Harry added. "Hermione, do you have anything here you need to collect?" Hermione shook her head.

"Good, good day to you sir," Ron grabbed Hermione's elbow and led her out of the office. "I think it would be best if you just wrote your other boss a letter yeah?" he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. Hermione nodded, batting away a few stray tears. "Good, we'll just swing by your apartment to collect your things and tell your landlord you'll no longer be there."

A couple of hours later, Hermione found herself in Harry and Ron's small London flat. She had Crookshanks in her arms and Harry and Ron stood behind her, two boxes of her shrunk, scant belongings sitting on the floor at their feet. "Welcome back Herms, your home."

"I said I will hold you up, I will hold you up
Your strength is enough
So have a little faith in me
I said hey baby oh baby
All you gotta do is have a little faith in me
All you gotta do is have a little faith in me"

A/N: I'm in the middle of the next chapter of Heir but I found seven pages of this written in my computer at home. I know it's inordinately long but it does give a couple hints about what's going to happen next in Heir. I hope you liked it and appreciate that, aside from Mr. Lehman and Martha, all the characters are completely canon. R&R!!!!!! Happy belated Christmas and a very Prosperous New Year!