Synopsis: This is my take on what happened when Hermione went to go find her parents in Australia. It takes place about three or four months after the war, and Harry and Ron go with her as well.

Taking in a deep, shaky breath, Hermione placed her feet onto the cracked pavement, under the awning. That left her staring down the paint-chipped door, the brass knocker mocking her.

Just do it,she told herself, raising her curled fist to the door. She knocked. And then she waited.

It seemed like an eternity, but then finally she could hear the footsteps quickening towards the door.

Oh, bugger. I can't do this.

But before she could turn around and run like hell, the door opened, and there she stood-her mother, looking more beautiful than Hermione could ever remember. Her brown hair was twisted away, out of her face, and her green eyes sparkled like emeralds.

Hermione let out a breath she wasn't even aware she'd been holding.

"Hey, mum." she said breathlessly, taking a step forward onto the threshold.

"Excuse me?" the woman said, giving her a confused look and taking an alarmed step back.

"I-I mean, ma'am. Um, I uh, I found your mail." Hermione choked out, her heart breaking with each word. She doesn't even remember.

"My...mail?" the woman asked, even more confused than before.

"Yes, um, it was blowing away in the street, you see, so I thought I'd bring it up here to your house so it wouldn't blow everywhere."

"Oh, that was very kind of you. Thank you, dear." And with that she took the envelopes from her hand, and shut the door in Hermione's face.

At first, Hermione just stood there, looking at the chipped paint as if that would magically make her mother appear again.

"How could I have been so stupid?" she asked herself, turning down the walkway and trudging back towards the city. What was she thinking? That just because Harry defeated Voldemort that the memory charm would've been lifted? That upon seeing her, her mother's memory would've come flooding back instantaneously?

This entire Australia trip is a waste, she thought to herself. I've dragged my two best friends here for something I was stupid enough to believe could be fixed.

She sat down on the side walk at the end of the street and put her face in her hands, and cried. And in that instant, she hated herself. She hated herself for being weak, she hated herself for crying on the sidewalk, hated herself for actually thinking this could work. But most of all, she hated herself because for the first time in her life, she didn't know how to fix the problem in front of her. She wanted to be alone, alone with one person who would let her cry into his shoulder.

Ron was pacing; back and forth, and back and forth around the lobby of the hotel. He stopped in the middle of the room and looked at the gargantuan clock for the umpteenth time. 3:48. Hermione had said she would be back at 3:10. Where was she?

They were staying at some Muggle hotel. Hermione had insisted, saying that it would be easier for them instead of staying in the Wizarding World, where everyone would want to know their whereabouts every second of the day. Harry was out doing something. Ron hadn't been really listening when he'd told him. He'd been too busy worrying about Hermione.

He began scanning the room when he saw her. She had her head down and she was slowly walking towards the elevators, most likely going up to their room. Ron could tell that she was upset just by the way she was standing. Hermione had her arms crossed tightly across her chest, and she was biting her lip; she only did that when she was upset, or when Ron was upsetting her. He wanted nothing more than to hug her in that moment and tell her it was all going to be OK.

"Hermione!" he called across the lobby. She looked up at him. Her eyes were red from crying, and she quickly looked down and got into the elevator, shutting the doors before he could reach her.

"Damn." He muttered to himself. He walked back around the lobby and into a deserted hallway where he Disapparated inside their hotel room.

Just as he had predicted, he beat Hermione there by several minutes. Whenever he heard the lock click open, he jumped off the bed and opened the door before she had a chance.

She jumped slightly at the sight of him, and her face got that look that she always gave him when she was annoyed with him. He loved that look.

"How the bloody hell did you get here so fast?" she asked him, looking up into his eyes.

"I Disapparated in a hallway," he said matter-of-factly.

"Why didn't I think of-of course, just one more thing that I couldn't think of today," she cried, throwing her hands up in the air as if surrendering. And then, much to Ron's dismay, she started crying. It broke his heart into a hundred pieces, not only seeing her cry, but because he thought he had caused her to cry…again.

"Hey," he said, pulling her into his arms. "It's okay." She buried her face into his chest and cried. Ron stood there, whispering soothing things into her ear and stroking her hair. "It's going to be okay. I promise." But he just let her cry.

She'll tell me when she wants me to know.