I

Hermione was waiting for Ron when he came waltzing into her shop—Everything Muggle—the morning following her big discovery. The git had been stepping out with Lavender Brown again. He'd told her the last time that he'd never do it again, but it hadn't even taken a month for another infraction. Maybe even less, for all she knew.

"There you are, Ronald," she said, arms crossed over her heaving chest, anger clearly written on her face. "We need to talk."

"Can't it wait, Hermione?" he asked tiredly. "I've had a bit of a rough night. Auror duties, you know."

"I know exactly where you've been all night, and that is precisely why we need to talk."

Ron's face fell. He looked guilty for all of about five seconds before he became recalcitrant instead.

"Well?" Hermione demanded. She was standing near a table where she'd placed the house she'd shrunk along with the rest of the reduction potion she'd used on it. It had taken surprisingly little to get the size she wanted, and now she had no idea what to do with the rest of the liquid she'd used.

"It's your own fault, Hermione," he told her. "You're the most unloving person I know. Don't even want to kiss me anymore, and we're always arguing. What else am I supposed to do?"

"I am not taking the blame for this again, Ronald Weasley!" Hermione shouted at him. "This has been going on for most of our relationship, and I'm not taking it anymore. If you want Lavender so much, then get the hell out of my shop and go live with her."

"Maybe I will," he said in a threatening tone. "With an indignant twist, he turned away to head for the door again, but unfortunately as he did so he ran into the table. The vial full of reduction potion dumped all over Hermione and she began to shrink. "Bloody hell!"

"Ron, what have you done?" Hermione shrieked in a tiny voice.

"Well, it serves you right, you little know-it-all!" Ron scoffed. "You spend more time playing with your Muggle toys than you do with me anyway. You might as well be one of them. And I'm going to make sure you do."

Stepping gingerly around the table so he didn't get any potion on himself, Ron grabbed Hermione's wand, which she'd left over by the cauldron, and snapped the thing in two. Hermione gasped indignantly as he tossed both pieces aside and stormed out the door.

"Oh no!" she gasped, well aware that only the wand that made the reduction potion could be used to counteract the effects. She burst into tears, crying for quite some time before admonishing herself for it.

"Just because I can't counteract the potion doesn't mean I can't figure out a growth potion instead," she said in an inspired voice. "I'll show him!"

Hermione ran as fast as her little legs could carry her to the table beside her cauldron, trying desperately to find a way to get at the book she'd left there. Finally, she ran as fast as she could and rammed one of the legs, and the book toppled down.

Unfortunately, it had toppled down right on top of her. She spent over an hour just trying to free herself, and by the time she'd done so she was too exhausted to open the thing and look for the page she needed. She fell asleep right there on the floor, tears streaming down her tiny face.

OOO

The next morning Hermione was startled awake by the sound of the front door of the shop opening. A mother and her two children wandered in and started looking around. Hermione froze, not wanting anyone to discover her in such a state.

The little girl spotted her on the floor and picked her up. "Look, Mum, it's a little doll. Can I have it? Please?"

"Well, I would buy it for you, darling, but the shopkeeper doesn't appear to be here," the woman said. "Perhaps you ought to put it back into the dollhouse, and we'll be able to come back later to buy the whole set."

"Oh, yes, Mummy, that would be grand!" she agreed, and set Hermione inside the house she'd been working on as the three left the shop.

Hermione took a deep breath and stepped to the side of the table, looking over the edge. She had no idea how she was supposed to get back down where the book was lying on the floor, waiting to be opened. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked around for something she could use like a rope to no avail.

If no one came in here again, she might starve to death, she realized with awful clarity. It was at least a good thing that she'd rigged the reduced-sized house with running water and a working toilet, or she'd be in real trouble.

Hermione cursed as she looked over at the larger half of her broken wand. Ron hadn't even left her with a wand to use. She had no way to take care of herself here in the Wizarding world without her wand. It wasn't like she could call anyone for help if she had no way to create a Patronus. Besides which, if she did make one, it might very well be as tiny as she was and go completely unnoticed by whoever she sent it to.

When Hermione heard the front door open again she almost breathed a sigh of relief. Almost—except that the person who entered was a very determined-looking Ronald Weasley.

"What are you doing back?" she wanted to know as she watched him pace around the room, picking up her wand and then grabbing the book she'd left on the floor. "Hey, those belong to me, Ronald. What do you think you're doing?"

"I can't let anyone find out about this," he said as he ran a hand over his head nervously. "I could get into some real trouble if anyone knew. I've got to get rid of you and that bloody house somewhere—maybe I'll stash you out in the Forbidden Forest or something. Someplace where you couldn't tell anyone."

"Ron, you git, how am I supposed to find any food?" she pointed out with her hands on her hips.

"I've thought of that already," he told her, pointing to his disheveled red mop of hair. "I've shrunk you down some army rations. See, little miss know-it-all, you're not the only one who can be clever."

Hermione gaped at the tiny packets of food inside the box Ron set into the basement portion of the house. He'd even gone so far as to shrink her some plates and silverware, and even a large quantity of toilet paper. She shook her head sadly as she said, "You really gave this a lot of thought, didn't you, Ronald? You really don't want me around."

"This is your own fault, Hermione," he reminded her in a high-handed tone. "I never meant for this to happen, but I'll be damned if I'm going to suffer for it."

"I can't believe you're so selfish," Hermione began, but closed her mouth as the door rattled again.

Without a second thought, Ron grabbed her up and put her under the bed in the upstairs bedroom of the little house. "Stay in there and be quiet," he ordered. Hermione had no chance to even agree before he slammed the whole house shut and stashed it behind the table, out of sight.