Disclaimer: I disclaim everything.
AN: For this to work out, Harry can't be born in 1980. He would have to be born earlier, like in 1970. So for this fic, just pretend that Harry was born in 1965. On with the fic!
When I was in Hogwarts, I was the person considered to have the most successful future. From my first day there, to my last, I had the highest marks of anyone in my year. I had a bunch of great friends too.
When I graduated, I was granted a job at the Ministry. At first, I didn't want to. All I wanted to be was a writer. But Ron and Harry convinced me. They said that it was hard for a writer to get her works published. In the end, I took the job.
I worked as the new secretary to the Minister of Magic. It was said that when he retired, I would take over his job. It was a bit boring, but it earned quite a bit of money, and I needed it to rent an apartment and such.
I started dating Ron a month after I started my job. He had always had a bit of a crush on me, and since he was also working at the Ministry, we just kind of clicked.
About a year later, I married him. We had a beautiful wedding, and invited all of our family and friends. We took our honeymoon in Paris, France, right in the heart of the city. It was beautiful.
Using our money, we bought a small house in the country. It was a bit like the Burrow, slightly secluded, with amazing fields stretching out as far as the eye could see.
A little while later, we had a baby, a beautiful little girl. We named her Jessica and I quit my job so I could stay home and be with her. Ron's salary was enough to support us then. I loved her very much, as did Ron and we were a happy family. We had enough money to pay the bills, very cute furniture and a nice little house.
It all went a bit downhill from there. The next year, Ron called me from work, sounding quite frantic.
"Now Hermione," he said, "I don't want you to worry, but I'm in a bit of trouble here."
"What do you mean?" I asked him.
"A group of Dark Wizards have managed to get into the Ministry," he said, his voice sounding tight, "and they've trapped everyone here. They said that if they found anyone trying to escape, they would be killed. But I couldn't just stay there. I kept thinking of you. I just had to let you know."
"Ron, but what if they find you? Don't do this, please" I said.
"Hermione," he said, his voice cracking now. "Don't worry about me. You've got to be brave, for our daughters. Now, if something does happen to me, promise me you'll get over it. I don't want you to be unhappy for the rest of your life. "
"Oh Ron" I whispered.
"Promise me" he said again, his voice fading a bit. "Please, just do this one thing."
"I promise," I said. "But Ron-"
I was interrupted by shouting from the other end of the phone.
"No! You can't take me! I didn't do anything wrong! Help! Somebody please help me!"
Fear seized my heart. "Ron!" I screamed into the phone, "Are you alright? Please don't let yourself be hurt. Let him go!"
From the other end came sounds of a struggle. Someone screamed in pain, and heavy boots clanked on the ground.
Finally Ron came back on the line. "Hermione, I love you," he said breathlessly.
"Ron, are you okay? They didn't hurt you did they? Please, don't die on me" I screamed frantically. The phone went dead.
I slumped back against the wall, defeated. Tears came to my eyes and slid down my face. There was no way Ron could be okay now. He was finished.
"Mommy?" asked Jessica, pulling at the hem of my shirt. "Is Mommy okay? Mommy's face is all wet."
"Don't worry, honey, I'm fine" I said, stroking back her hair. "I'm just fine."
She ran off to play with her dolls, and I just sat back and cried.
And then I dialed the Aurors, a wizard version of the police. They said that they would be right over. But they weren't. They never got there.
It was all over the news the next day. Dark Wizards had taken over the Ministry during the night, and they had killed almost all the people working there. They had taken the few survivors to use as hostages. An Auror team was called, but it never got there. It was a terrible tragedy.
I stayed at home with Jessica for the next few months, until the commotion had died down a bit. By then, all our money was gone.
"Oh God, what are we going to do?" I whispered to myself, as I checked our bank account. Without money, there was no way we could do anything.
I sent an owl to Ginny the next day, asking if we could stay at her place for a while. She had just gotten out of school a few years ago and had a little apartment of her own.
Jessica and I acted as soon as we got her reply, and found a buyer for our house. We managed to get a lot of money for it, more than we had bought it for. Then we packed up all our possessions and took the train to London.
Ginny greeted us at the station with open arms. "Oh Hermione" she said to me quietly as we hugged, "I just can't believe it. Ron's actually dead. I'm so sorry."
"I'll be okay" I told her. "But what about you?"
"I'll live" she said with a laugh, though it sounded forced. "Who's this?" she asked Jessica, who was shyly hiding behind me. "Could this be the Jessica I've heard so much about?"
Jessica nodded shyly, trying to hide behind me even more.
"Let's talk more at home," said Ginny, warm and welcoming once again. "You two must be starving after all that."
"The train food was pretty bad," I agreed. "But I think we're more tired than anything" I added. I handed her the money that we had gotten, selling our house.
"Hermione, I couldn't possibly take your money," she said, pushing it back towards me. "Not after all you've been through"
We took the Underground to Ginny's two-bedroom apartment. It was a cute little place, very homey looking, in the center of downtown London.
"Oh wow" I gasped as soon as I stepped in the door. "Ginny, what'd you do to this place? It looks amazing!"
Her roof was enchanted just like the one at Hogwarts, to act as an exact replica of the sky. She had wooden floors, and fancy blue couches, with lava lamps and shimmering flowers placed all over. Her curtains were a light sky blue, with puffy clouds that seemed to come alive.
"Oh thanks" she said, blushing a bit. "I didn't really know what to do with it, so I just mixed up a bunch of my favourite styles. I thought it would look a lot worse, like everything would clash or something, but it didn't. It actually looks okay. And of course, I enchanted everything. Life is nice with a touch of magic."
"Oh wow" I gasped again, still speechless.
"Well, if you like this, you'll just love what I did to the room you're staying in" she said with a mischievous grin, seeming just like her brothers.
I did love what Ginny had done to the room. Her decorating skills were absolutely incredible. Her magic only enhanced it even more.
After we put Jessica to bed, Ginny made us both a cup of coffee, and we sat down and chatted. Somehow the subject turned to Ron. At the mention of his name, Ginny's tears started flowing.
"I still can't believe he's dead" she sobbed. "It just feels so unreal. Like a dream or something. Like I'm in this horrible dream, a nightmare that won't ever end."
I gave her a hug. "Gin, but he is. You just have to accept it. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. But he was brave while he was there. He risked everything to call me, and tell me what was going on"
Her tears subsided a bit. "Really?"
I nodded. "Really."
"Thanks Herm" she said, drying her tears. "I feel better now after knowing what his last moments were like"
We chatted a bit more, and then went to bed. I was so tired, I fell asleep as soon as I got in bed.
Ginny was an amazing cook, on top of all her other talents, I noticed as I flipped through the newspaper looking for jobs, while eating my breakfast.
"Gin, are there any good day cares around here?" I asked her. "Jessica needs somewhere to go during the day."
"Oh yeah" she answered. "There's one just a few blocks away. You could go register her today."
"Thanks" I said thoughtfully. "I think I will"
After I left Jessica at the day care center I went back to Ginny's, to ask about some of the jobs I'd found that I had the qualifications for. I dialed the phone again and again. Most of the positions had already been filled, but there were some that were open.
A few days later, I rushed off to interviews. I was so glad I had Ginny to talk to, because I was a nervous wreck. I had never had to look for a job this way, and it was quite nerve wracking.
I think I did quite well at my first one. It was for a cashier at a small bookstore on the edge of town. The lady said she'd call me if I got the job.
I waited by the phone every night, but the calls never came. Soon, I learned to accept the disappointment, and move on, searching for more.
Weeks later, I was on a train, on my way home. I had just gone to a particularly far and exhausting interview, in a town about fifty miles away from London. I leaned back on my seat and watched the people around me, wondering what was going on in their lives.
My eyes fell on the window. We were passing rolling green hills, reminding me of riding the Hogwarts Express. I sighed. Those were the good days. The most I had to worry about was failing a test.
And that's when it hit me.
I would write a book. And not just any book, a book of magic, a book of mystical creatures, a book of my life. As I rode home, the idea embedded itself in my head.
When I got home, I rushed into my room, only stopping to mutter a quick "hi" to Ginny. I plopped down at my desk, and pulled out one of my many blank notebooks.
"I think I'll make the story about Harry, instead of me" I muttered to myself, "I want both girls and boys to read this, and boys might not be interested in a reading a book that's about a girl"
Changing the hero of the book was easy enough. I knew Harry as well as I knew myself. Maybe even better than I knew myself. After all, I had spent seven years with him at Hogwarts, and a bunch more afterwards.
I grabbed another book from the drawer, one of my diaries from Hogwarts. Recording my life down on paper was finally going to pay off. I flipped through it until I found what I was looking for.
Dec 7th, 5th year cont. 11:45 pm
I'm so glad I take the time to have these late night chats with Harry. It just helps us build our friendship so much. Like tonight, for example, was a complete accident. I had just come down to get a cup of water when I heard someone in the common room. Of course, I went over to see who it was, and it was Harry. His eyes looked kind of red and blotchy, like he'd been crying or something. His glasses were a bit foggy too.
"Is something wrong?" I asked him, as I went over to sit down next to him. He scooted over to give me some room.
"Just depressed" he answered.
"Why?" I asked without thinking. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to" I added quickly, not wanting to be nosy.
He smiled at me. "But I do want to" he said, and he was gazing at me so seriously that it scared me. "Someone should know what I've been going through lately. And I think you're the best one for it"
And wow, we just had the most amazing conversation that night. He told me about everything, just everything about his life, starting from as early as he could remember. I was in tears, because of all the horrible things that had happened to him. I just couldn't believe that his aunt and uncle would treat him like that…
I closed my eyes, cherishing the memory. It felt like that had happened only a few days ago, instead of years and years.
I flipped through more of my diary entries, until I had a complete memory of my life, and what Harry had told me about his. And what Ron had said, and what Ginny and all of my other friends had told me before.
I sighed again, trying to hold all my life memories in my mind. And then, I was ready.
I picked up a pen and settled down in front of my desk, ready to write. After thinking about my wording for a minute, I started to write.
Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense…
They say you write things best when you've experience yourself. And what thing would I know better than the story of my life? Or rather, Harry's life.
From that moment on, I wrote every spare minute I had. Even when I came home from an exhausting interview, and felt so tired I could fall asleep any minute, I still wrote. It was calming.
Have you ever read a book that you just couldn't put down until you finished it? Or a book that was just so brilliant, that it made you cry, and even a day later, when you're walking home, you're still in shock and just can't help thinking about that book?
I wrote in cafes, so that Jessica could sleep while I had a coffee and wrote. I wrote in the bus on the way to an interview. I wrote late into the night, sometimes not sleeping until one in the morning. I worked on my book for years. And finally, it paid off. Now just to think of a pen name.
Well, I'd decided. My book was going to be all that and more. I was going to make readers shake with laughter, cry because of the level of the angst, and it was only going to make them recommend it to all their friends.
With a final flourish of my pen, I wrote down the title. Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, by J.K.Rowling.
AN: Um, did you like it? It was fun to write. I got the idea when I was cold and shivering at school because the teachers, who are evil, make us go outside. Strange, isn't it? Review? =)