Summary: Hermione Granger learns that her friends will fight with her in any battle big or small. Fluffy friendship fic. Post-DH. Canon Pairings.

Burdens Borne

Hermione had long prided herself on her ability to think through strange "coincidences" logically and trace them back to their not-so-mysterious source, a source that was rather more and rather less than simply "bad luck."

But that grey, chilly morning, she found herself wondering if that was exactly what had befallen her and her best friends. It was one thing for the two-week death date of Fred Weasley to fall on the day that she, Harry, Ron, and Ginny were due to leave for Australia to bring back Mr. and Mrs. Granger, but for those events to also coincide with the morning that Harry had to bring the Dursleys out of hiding?

Perhaps, Hermione, conceded wearily, it was as Harry had said about himself in their third year. Perhaps trouble just went looking for them.

The four of them had agreed to meet at the heavily graffittied wall that the ministry of magic visitor's entrance stood before at noon in order to give themselves plenty of time to fill out any necessary paperwork before taking an international portkey to Sydney, Australia.

Hermione arrived first, of course. She apparated neatly into an alley adjacent to the entrance and was leaning nonchalantly against the wall by five 'til noon. She pressed her back against the warm brick wall, and tried not to check her watch every few seconds.

It was difficult.

Just as she was about to push herself off the wall and begin to pace (three minutes 'til noon), she heard the crack of apparition. Sure enough, moments later, Harry came stumbling into view. He gave her a fleeting smile and then shuffled over to join her against the wall.

"Hey, Harry," Hermione greeted softly, "How'd it go?"

He shrugged. Hermione placed a hand on his arm, prompting him.

"Dudley was…well," he ran a trembling hand through his hair, finally daring to meet Hermione's eyes, "He wants to stay in touch, but my aunt and uncle…"

If she'd had any tears left in the aftermath of the battle and the storms of dozens of funerals in scarcely two days, Hermione thinks that she would've cried. As it was, the hand that she had placed on Harry's arm, gripped his forearm a little tighter.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered.

He studiously examined his shoes and shrugged again.

"Don't know why I expected anything different, really," he mumbled, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.

Hermione rested her head against his shoulder for but a moment and then withdrew, which made Harry's attention return to her.

"Oh Merlin," he exclaimed, eyes widening behind his glasses, "Here I am telling you about my morning when…what I mean is, how're you holding up?"

Hermione was spared answering (she couldn't lie to Harry, not ever, but especially not now) by a particularly loud crack that came from the alley behind them. Ginny and Ron emerged from the alley moments later, both pale-faced with red-rimmed eyes. They strode quickly to meet the other two, and though it was obvious that their morning had been anything but easy, they both managed to conjure shaky smiles for their friends.

Ron gave Harry a quick, tight hug and Ginny carefully embraced Hermione while saying,

"Sorry we're a bit late."

In her head, Hermione was imagining how different the conversation would be had they been having it a year ago. "Sorry we're a bit late. Ron here was hogging up the bathroom." A confident roll of the eyes even as her brother spluttered in irritation. "I was hogging up the bathroom! You were in there for half an hour, Ginny!" As it was, Ron did not at all respond to Ginny's words and the younger girl's eyes were flickering between her and Harry.

Hermione checked her watch. Noon exactly. She forced the corners of her mouth to lift.

"You're on time," she told her boyfriend, "Harry and I were just early."

Ginny nodded, then crossed over to her boyfriend and took his hand.

"Let's go then," the redhead said softly, leading Harry towards the shabby phone box.

Ron, after lacing his fingers through Hermione's, followed, but Harry stopped dead even as Ginny's fingers reached out to open the door of the phone box.

"Harry," Ron said quietly, "What's wrong?"

"I just realized," Harry said, "This is the first time we've been back into the ministry since…"

He let the silence fill in the rest of its sentence. It didn't disappoint, for this was the first time that the three older Gryffindors had been back since their trip to retrieve the locket, and it was the first time for all of them to take the visitor's entrance since that ill-fated journey to the Department of Mysteries. Ginny squeezed her boyfriend's hand while Ron muttered a quiet, "Bloody hell." Hermione was trembling quietly as Ginny reached out and pulled open the telephone box, tugging Harry in behind her. Ron and Hermione only hesitated a moment before shuffling in after them.

"Six…two…four…four…two," Ginny muttered as she entered the numbers.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic," said the eerily cool female voice inside the box, "Please state your name and business."

Ginny cleared her throat.

"Ginevra Weasley, student at Hogwarts School. Here with Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter to—"

But before she could finish her sentence the voice said, ""Thank you. Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes."

Harry groaned as Ginny held up his badge, which read, "Harry Potter, Hero."

It took far too long for Hermione's liking for the four of them to arrive in the office of international portkey travel (Level six at the Ministry of Magic). Of course, this might have something to do with the dozens of people who had come running up to Harry, demanding autographs and wanting to shake his hand. Fortunately for the bashful boy, Hermione and the two Weasleys with him had long mastered the glare they shot at Harry's fans.

Even more fortunately, Kingsley Shacklebolt, their good friend and acting Minister, had turned up and escorted them to level six, apologizing the whole way for the masses of people that had swarmed them upon their entrance to the ministry.

Nonetheless, Hermione couldn't help feeling jittery even as they faced a clerk and filled out the remaining necessary paperwork in order to catch their portkey in an hour.

"So..." said the young clerk who was unsuccessfully trying to keep from gawking at Harry, "Why are you headed to Sydney?"

Hermione watched Harry stiffen and she exchanged glances with Ron and Ginny. It was clear that despite whatever reforms were happening within the ministry, Harry's distrust for the magical government had only increased.

"Just some business to take care of," he muttered, very pale.

"I have to go check on some of my family," Hermione said loudly, wanting to take the attention of her friend, "Harry, Ron, and Ginny are just sort of…coming with me."

She didn't want to say why they were coming. The truth of the matter was that ever since the Final Battle, the four of them had been loathe to let the others out of their sight for more than an hour or two. They'd all even been staying in the same section of the Room of Requirement, close enough to wake each other up from the vivid nightmares and to remind each other that all four of them had survived, that they were still breathing. The only reason they hadn't apparated together to the ministry was because Harry'd had to see the Dursleys and Ron and Ginny had been having a family breakfast in honor of Fred. Even those few hours apart had felt too long, and Hermione's nerves had been fraying with fear.

The truth was that the reason the other three were going with her because they couldn't stand to be away from each other, not so soon.

Perhaps the clerk gathered some of this from their red-rimmed eyes, deeply lined faces, rumpled clothes, and knowing glances because he simply said:

"I wish you all safe travel."

The clerk said nothing more to them, choosing instead to return to the work at his desk while the four tired young ones finished signing all the necessary pieces of parchment. Hermione handed it in.

"Here," she said, tucking a loose strand behind her.

The clerk perused the first sheet of paper before nodding and smiling at them.

"All seems to be in order."

None of them reminded him that he had only looked at one of the twenty pieces of parchment. Instead Ginny gave him a small smile and muttered a swift, "thank you" before standing up, pulling a tense Harry up with her.

"There's a room adjacent to this one," said the clerk, "Just wait there and in a few minutes, someone should be along with your portkey."

Hermione nodded to him, and led the way out of the room quickly to the adjacent room the clerk had indicated, feeling restless and anxious.

The room was surprisingly cosy1, with two large plush couches and large windows on one side of the room. Harry and Ginny settled down on one of them, but Hermione wandered over to the window Dear Merlin, why did I think this was a good idea? and Ron padded up beside her.

"That was a bit odd, wasn't it?" Ginny commented from behind her, "The way he was looking at us."

"I suppose he was expecting something a bit different, something more…heroic," Ron commented softly, "From, you know, the saviors of the wizarding world."

Hermione let out a half-sob, half-laugh.

"You alright, Hermione?" Ron asked, moving a little closer.

Who are you to be asking that? Hermione wondered, looking at the telltale signs of her boyfriend's visceral grief.

"I'm fine," she replied, but her pitch was much higher than normal.

Harry and Ginny were having some hushed conversation behind them, but all Hermione could focus on was Ron putting his hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eye. It wasn't until then that Hermione realized how much she'd been moving: fidgeting with her jacket, twisting a strand of her hair, bouncing up and down on her toes.

"Hey," Ron said, and his eyebrows were furrowed in that way that told Hermione he was trying his best to understand her, "I know that this has to be hard for you, but—"

He was cut off by the entrance (timely from Hermione's perspective, untimely from Ron's) of the same clerk bearing a small Australian flag into the room.

"Here's your portkey," he said briskly, "It leaves in two minutes. There's a counter up there," and there was a timer counting downwards hanging on the wall, "Just make sure you register for a return portkey when arrive in the ministry there. I assume you all have the pamphlets on wizarding Sydney?"

"Yes," Ron answered, taking a step away from Hermione to take the flag out of the eager clerk's hands.

"Good," said the clerk, giving them all a beaming smile, "I hope all goes well."

His eyes lingered for one moment on Harry's scar before he hurried through the door again. Hermione looked up at the counter. They had about a minute and thirty seconds. She took a corner of the flag.

"What's the plan once we get to Sydney, Hermione?" Ron asked, even as Ginny and Harry took the other two corners of the flag.

"We find a business directory for Sydney and look up Wendell and Monica Wilkins under Dentistry," she firmly, "My parents always have their names in directories, or well they did when…"

Her voice trailed off, as she swallowed thickly, eyes avoiding her friends. When they were my parents.

"When?" Harry prompted; she could feel her friends' eyes upon her.

But before Hermione could consider how to continue there came the sudden whoosh and they were whisked away.

Hermione should've known that Ron would bring up their conversation later, and she really should've known that he would bring in Harry and Ginny too, but, for some reason, when they were sitting in a café in Sydney and he broached the topic, she felt unreasonably irritated.

"Hermione, are you ready to see your parents again?"

Hermione's fingers tightened around her mug of tea.

"Yes, I think so," she answered tightly, avoiding her friends' eyes.

Ginny laid a hand on her arm, "It's been almost a year."

"I know!" Hermione snapped, "I know…" she said brokenly.

They waited for her to continue. She was never a girl to leave a thought unfinished. In that moment, though, she wished she could have the self-restraint to shut up because her closest friends were already immersed in grief and pain. Why should she add to their load?

"I just…I'm nervous," she admitted resting her forehead against her palm, and when they waited, those words that had been boiling in her heart finally spilled over, "What if they don't want to be my parents anymore? What if they think I've betrayed them and can't forgive me? Or what if they're happier here in Australia without—"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted softly, and the witch let out a muffled sob, "You've been keeping this in all morning, haven't you?"

Hermione just looked down into her tea, unable to form a response for one of the first times in her life.

"You pulled a Harry, didn't you?" said Ron wryly, "You just wanted to protect us when we could help you."

Ginny (ignoring Harry's weak "hey!") continued where her brother left off.

"You should give your parents a bit more credit," she suggested, making Hermione meet her earnest eyes, "They put up with all the mess you got up to at school. I'm still surprised they didn't take you out of Hogwarts after you got…" Ginny's breath hitched as it always did when she mentioned her first year, "After you were petrified."

"They almost did," Hermione confessed suddenly, the words tumbling out without her permission, "I managed to talk them out it, but it was close."

"Well, honestly, Hermione I think that they'll just be happy you came back alive," Harry said, "The fact that you obliviated them…they won't be so happy about, but they'll be happy, really happy you're alive."

And there was no bitterness in his voice, just grief.

Hermione nodded stiffly and fought back the tears that were beating at the corners of her eyes, and she decided that now was not the time to argue. She wondered if she even wanted to argue.

"Right," she said, and pulled the massive Yellow Pages out of her beaded purse, "Dentistry."

And she didn't miss the knowing smiles her friend's exchanged when they thought she was absorbed in paging through the directory. She sat a bit straighter, a smile peeking out of the corners of her mouth.

The door had a bold "welcome" sign pasted on it, and the lights on the inside of the office revealed that Wendell and Monica Wilkins would be inside, working, but still Hermione hesitated.

Without Hermione speaking, Ron stepped forward and took her hand.

"Are you ready?"

Her anxiety surpassed words, but looking into her friends' confident faces, she realized for the first time since the final battle that she didn't have to fight these miniature battles alone. They would fight side-by-side in every war, no matter the size.

She pushed open the door.

1 This is the UK way to spell "cozy."

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. :)