It was morning after the press meet and Ron Weasley was being rudely roused from sleep by a bushy-haired woman shaking his shoulder. No one in the house had gone to bed until the early hours of the morning, mostly due to the fact that Molly had insisted that the entire house stay up to help clean the yard – the press meet had ended in quite a mess in the small front yard. It was littered with broken quills and bits of parchment, as well as empty Butterbeer bottles from the two hundred odd reports that had shown up then refused to leave until Harry had answered a long list of questions. The conference finally ended when Ministry officials finally showed up to escort them out, more than three hours later.
Ron blinked his eyes blearily to realize it was Hermione, who was brandishing a large bottle of doxy spray.
"Wake up, Ronald!"
"What are you doing this early?" Ron asked, sitting up with a groan. He hoped that Hermione wouldn't comment on his bright orange Chudley Cannon pajamas. In addition to clashing magnificently with his hair, they were nearly four years old and several inches too short in the ankle. This was nothing to say of the rest of the room, similarly themed and just as bright.
"It's nearly eleven, Ron, and your mother wants you to take care of the doxy in the living room curtains. Kingsley said he may be coming by later, so get to it!"
"Doesn't the Minister of Magic have bigger things to worry about than the state of our drapes? Like the escaped Death Eaters or maybe the condition of the carpeting in his office?"
"Ron."
"I'll get to it," he said hastily, standing and grabbing the towel hanging from his desk chair. But as he turned toward the door, he saw Hermione standing exactly where she was, with a strange expression on her face.
"Well," she said slowly. "There's something else I wanted to ask you. And now is as good as time as any, I suppose."
Something in her tone made Ron wonder if he should sit down. Or offer her a chair. Or run out of the room screaming.
"This is hard to say, but..."
Something in Ron's head snapped into place. There it was. What he had been dreading since their last night in the castle. And perhaps even for much longer than that. "Look, you don't have to say it, Hermione," Ron interrupted, suddenly sure of what she was going to say. "You think it was a mistake. And now you feel like you have to fix it."
She stared at him, looking slightly confused. "Yes, Ronald, that's it. I don't know if it was a mistake, it certainly necessary at the time. But now I have to make sure no further is damage."
"It's alright, Hermione." He sighed heavily, feeling his face grow hot. "Just forget it. Let's just pretend it never happened."
Hermione's eyes grew wide. "Ronald, that's impossible. How on earth could I do that? I, I've been waiting for this! I just need your help to make sure the situation is completely resolved!"
"Hermione, if you didn't like it, then don't mention it!" Ron burst out. "We just won't do it again! Go on, owl McLaggen or something, he was probably much better at it!"
Silence followed. When Hermione spoke again, it was in a tone that suggested she was dealing with someone either very dangerous or very confused.
"Ronald...what exactly are you talking about?"
"The kiss!" He was yelling now and he didn't care who heard. "We kissed and then for days now you've been acting like nothing happened! Well go on then, if you regret it so much, go snog McLaggen or something, maybe he can –"
"Stop, Ron."
Something in her voice made him pause immediately and he looked at her. Her mouth was pressed into a thin line that reminded him rather unpleasantly of McGonagall. Even worse – her eyes seemed too bright, almost as if she was holding back tears.
"I was not talking about that. I was going to ask you to come to Australia with me to find my parents and bring them home."
Oh. A strong river of relief followed, mixed with instant regret and something akin to triumph. Not knowing how to respond to this in the face of so many emotions, Ron settled for staring stupidly at her instead. He was certain that his face was now the same color as his pajamas.
"Yes, that's right," she continued, now sounding quite angry. "But since you bring it up – I was hoping this trip would be a chance for us to be spend some time together."
Ron spluttered. "But, it's been days, and you, I mean, you haven't even said..."
"Well yes, Ronald, I didn't think it would be prudent to discuss that during the funerals and such. I wanted to wait until things settled a bit."
Her eyes narrowed as she added one last bit to well and truly make Ron feel like burrowing himself into the ground. "Besides, I thought we had established our feelings? I didn't realize they were in need of immediate and urgent discussion."
With that, she turned and walked out, leaving the doxy spray on his floor.
Several minutes later, a surprised and frightened Harry Potter was knocked to the floor by what appeared to be a large, angry ginger blob marching into the living room. "Mental, that one!" Ron huffed as Harry scrambled to pick up his glasses. "Honestly, how was I supposed to know how she felt?"
He pressed down angrily on the nozzle of the spray, accidentally elbowing Harry in the process. "I'm not a genius like her, am I? Honestly, if she just said, I mean, if she had ran it by me that she feels the same, maybe I wouldn't have –"
Ron paused in his ranting, seemingly just noticing his best friend sprawled on the floor, his glasses once again landing several feel away.
"What are you doing on the floor, Harry?"
/
Thinking back, Hermione knew that most of the worst decisions she had ever made were the direct result of befriending Harry Potter. Like the time she threw herself out of a window to escape a large snake and an evil overlord. To help Harry Potter. Or the time she broke into the Ministry of Magic with the knowledge that she was a wanted criminal. To help Harry Potter. Or even the time she agreed to help raise a baby giant in the Forbidden Forest. Well, that one was more for Hagrid. But still, it was a direct result of befriending Harry Potter.
If asked, the boy in question would say that they had no other choice, they needed to find Horcruxes, and well...Gryffindor is all about loyalty to friends, right?
Not that Hermione regretted doing any of these things. No sir, Hermione Jean Granger was not one for self-pity. She knew what she had done to help her friends and family and refused to let herself regret a moment of it.
But sometimes, she couldn't help but wonder what her life would be like if she had never encountered Harry Potter. Though few and far between, there were moments where Hermione imagined a life where she had been born with no magical ability at all.
Like now, for instance.
"C'mon Hermione, we should help her," Harry muttered, looking slightly guilty.
"That may not be possible," Hermione said flatly.
It was several hours after her encounter with Ron and Hermione had fallen asleep in the middle of the afternoon, still seething. It was normally unlike her to nap during the day, but between a busy morning and her fight with Ron, Hermione was exhausted. It was little more than an hour later that she was awaked by the sound of yelling and a shrill alarm ringing through the entire Burrow. Ginny's bed was empty. The room they were currently sharing filled with the incessant sound that told Hermione someone must have attempted to break past the protective wards placed around the house. Snatching up the wand at her bedside table, she clattered down the stairs, finding the Weasley family and Harry in a large crowd in the kitchen, where the back door led into the garden.
Though the yelling had stopped, Arthur and Molly Weasley looked worried and held their wands ready, pointed toward the door. Ginny looked angry, Harry sheepish and Ron simply amused. Percy was wringing his hands and looked as though he was just barely holding back tears.
"What's happening?" Hermione asked, her wand still held aloft.
"Rita Skeeter," Ron answered, momentarily forgetting that they were fighting.
The name brought a wave of anger that quelled her fear and alarm. "What now?" She snapped. "What did that woman do?"
Harry, slightly red in the cheeks, turned to her. "Well, it's my fault. She wanted to get into the garden, y'know, snap some pictures since she was banned from the press meet and all. But she didn't know there were charms up to stop intruders from coming in. I was out there near the pond and I heard the alarm that means someone tried to get past the ward and I just sort of panicked. And ah, well..."
He trailed off.
"What?"
"Well, er, I didn't know who it was, so I just kind of reacted and well..." He shrugged.
"Harry hexed her to all hell," Ginny said unabashedly. "He didn't kill her. Just sent all sorts of nasty things to her without realizing what was happening."
At this, she pointed her wand and the door creaked open, revealing what appeared to be an enormous red and black water beetle stretched across the back porch in the late afternoon sunlight. It was roughly the size of a horse and had some very familiar markings around its eyes, almost like a pair of cat-eyed glasses.
"Is that Rita Skeeter?"
"Yes, well, that would be what's happening, yes," Harry said, staring at his shoes. "And er, I don't think she can change back."
"How did you do this, Harry?"
"Well, I think she was trying to come in using her Animagus form and y'know, the wards were made to register anyone who tries to enter in disguise. So when the sound went off and I saw something moving near the pond, I thought it may be a Death Eater or something and I couldn't see who it was, I just...well...y'know, I used a couple of hexes and I guess she tried to go back to her human form and just got stuck halfway through." He paused, frowning. "I'm not exactly sure what I did, either. One moment she was a person, and then, this happened. You can fix it, right?"
Hermione stared at him. "Harry, if you sent an unknown amount of curses toward her and they all meshed, I wouldn't be sure where to begin! This is powerful Transfiguration isn't it? The Animagus should have full control over the transformation, but if you've somehow tampered with that, even if it's accidental, there's no way of knowing how to fix it!"
"But this is illegal!" Percy burst out, apparently unable to control himself any longer.
Hermione hesitated. "I'll look into it," she finally said.
"Good. Great. No harm done, then?" Arthur put on what he hoped was a hearty, cheerful grin. "We'll just, uh, keep her in the garden until then."
"Excellent!" Ginny adopted an equally cheerful tone. "After breakfast Quidditch, anyone?"
Hermione sighed quietly, wondering if it was too late to go back to bed. Or Australia with her parents. Maybe she should have just obliviated her own memory while she was at it...