It's been so long since I've written anything. I missed it.

Before I start, let me say that this is a Harry/Hermione story and positive reviews are appreciated. I realize that this ship isn't in the actual Harry Potter series, but I still like it. So, Ron/Hermione and Harry/Ginny shippers, you are welcomed to read this story if you'd like, just don't leave any negative comments about who's ship is better and stuff like that. Thanks.

Anyway, this story takes place in Chicago, Illinois in June 1925. The Jazz Age is in full swing and that's a big part of the story. That's all I'm telling you.

I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything like that. I only own the plot.

Can I Keep You?

Chapter 1: Metal Hell

I could feel the sun's rays tickling the bare skin on my face. Its warm touch soothed me and caused my consciousness to swirl into a perfect state of relaxation. With my eyes gently shut and the world around me gracefully drifted away, my dreams carried me to places I would never physically visit. Places such as these were overflowed with culture and beauty, which was the complete opposite of my current industrialized prison. I longed to see those magically kingdoms and desperately hoped that my dreams would someday become reality.

Only at the moment did I realize that my name being echoed throughout my mind from an outside force. The more the voice rang the more familiar it became and soon I recognized it as my own mother's vocals. My eyes fluttered open to see a pair of chocolate brown orbs gazing down at me. These orbs were identical to my own, more youthful ones.

"Hermione?" my mother, Joanna Granger, asked softly "Are you awake, my child?"

Not truly wanting to leave the soft blanket I had previously been slumbering upon in my family's garden, I answered in muffled tone, "No, not really."

"Come now, Hermione. We must start preparing ourselves for Mr. Riddle's party tonight."

"Marvelous.", I thought to myself, "Another social get-together at the Riddle Mansion where Chicago's wealthy families sit around and congratulate each other on being the Masters of the Universe. What a perfect way to start the summer."

As my mother, unsuccessfully, tried to pull me up from the ground, I carelessly let a rebellious groan escape from my lips. She heard it.

"Hermione Jane Granger, it is not too much to ask to accompany your family to party. It's not like you won't have anyone to talk to."

Making sure I didn't say it out loud, I thought, "On the contrary, Mother, I'll find someone to talk, but I probably won't want to talk to them."

Mother gave up her attempts to lift me, she said, "Be ready soon. Your father wants to leave within an hour." She then made her way toward the house.

I settled back onto my blanket, not wanting to abandon my comfortable spot. Closing my eyes, I tried not to imagine the rock hard stilettos and the dreaded corset that awaited me in my room. Quite frankly, I found that hideous excuse for clothing to be extremely unnecessary. I touched my midsection and wondered why my mother insists that I where a corset. My stomach was flat enough, but she thought that any imperfections on my seventeen year old body had to be eliminated at all costs. She could be so stubborn sometimes, which I figured was the British in her, and as I picked up my blanket and glided towards my house, I recoiled that I inherited many of her characteristics, including her stubbornness and her vast vocabulary.

Making a short journey through the foyer, I heard my father speaking with someone in his study and, when I didn't pick up on a responding voice, I assumed that he was on the phone. Once I passed by the study door, my father gestured me toward him. He scratched his grey hair in thought and stretched his slender frame. Finally, he politely ended his conversation and, upon the phone's return to the receiver, he took both of my hands and asked, "How are you, my daughter, on this beautiful day?"

"I am fine, Father", I responded pleasantly, "The glorious weather had made me quite cheerful."

"That's good to hear because tonight is going to be a very special night."

"Why is this so?"

He waved his finger. "You shall see at the party. Now, go get ready. We'll be leaving soon."

Knowing that I couldn't reel anymore information out of him, I departed for my bedroom. I wondered, secretly, what made this night so special. This is just one of the many Riddle fiestas we've been to and I guarantee it won't be the last.

My father, John Granger, was the Co-Vice President for Riddle Incorporated, the largest stock company in the United States, besides Wall Street that is. His boss, Tom Riddle, the other Vice President, Luscious Malfoy, and my father were the three richest men in Chicago. Throughout the years, they would alternate having parties and feasts to "celebrate the company's prosperity", though I believe it's just to show off their wealth.

I reached my room and sighed once I lay on the bed. My father's puzzle was torturing me. At that moment I realized that this was going to be a long night.