"Ginny! Hermione! We leave in thirty minutes." Mrs. Weasley's voice boomed throughout the house, right into the room the two girls shared. Harry and Ron were already gone for the day, off to early morning training. They had snuck into the girls' room just as the sun was rising to say goodbye. Ginny groaned, covering her ears with her pillow as Hermione rose and began to dress. Grinning, Hermione jerked the covers off of her friend.
"Oi! Hermione give those back!"
"Ginevra! Out of bed now!" Ginny grumbled but did as her mother said. Hermione could hear her muttering something about all knowing and bloody irritating. Stifling a laugh, she pulled her hair back into a loose bun at the nape of her neck and slipped her wand into her pocket. As Ginny struggled to put her foot into the correct leg of her jeans Hermione slipped down the stairs and into the kitchen. A pot of tea awaited with toast and eggs.
"Good morning Molly." Mrs. Weasley had insisted that Harry and Hermione were to cease calling her Mrs. Weasley: after all, they were eighteen and quite like family. Hermione called her Molly, Harry switched back and forth between Molly and Mum, lately he had been settling more on Mum. Hermione smiled every time he did, seeing Molly's eyes mist and a smile grace her lips.
"Hello dear. Help yourself to some breakfast. Is Ginny coming?"
"Present." Ginny stumbled in, her hair a flyaway disaster, eliciting a giggle from Hermione. Molly rolled her eyes and conjured a hairbrush. George appeared next, a scowl fixed on his features.
"Good morning George." Hermione greeted, sitting down beside him.
"'lo 'Mione." He mumbled, sitting down at the table and promptly laying his head on his arms.
"Did we wake you?" She asked, pushing a cup of tea and a plate of breakfast in front of him. George glared at his mother's back as he shoved a piece of toast in his mouth.
"It was time you got up anyway dear." Molly said. George simply gave a lopsided grin and shook his head. It was universally accepted that she was omniscient. Hermione laughed quietly and bumped his shoulder with her own. The young man still carried a heavy burden on his heart and shadows still remained under his blue eyes. Losing a brother and a twin was no easy matter. Her heart went out to
him every time she thought of it. She remembered seeing the pained look on his face when someone called him the wrong name. Herself, she remembered stumbling out of bed one morning and seeing him in the hall, then thinking she wasn't sure which twin he was until she remembered: Fred was gone.
"Hurry up Ginevra! We'll never get there at this rate."
"Mum, we have an hour before we have to be there. Breathe." Ginny quailed under the look her mother gave her. "But it never hurts to be early." Shoving eggs into her mouth, she studied the table before her.
Mr. Weasley came into the house, followed by Charlie, twenty minutes later. "The car is all ready! Charlie's driving love, I have to get to the office." He dropped a kiss on Molly's cheek, grabbed a piece of toast and hugged Ginny. "Behave dear, I'll see you at Christmas. Goodbye Hermione." Waving, he disapparated. Charlie sat down across from her, next to Ginny, and began to wolf down a plate full of eggs and toast.
"We've got to go." He announced. Mrs. Weasley levitated the dishes to the sink while Charlie helped the girls with their things and George flopped down on the couch with the paper. With only a few minutes to spare, they set out.
Hermione and Ginny ran through the barrier to the familiar sight of the scarlet engine and a crowded platform. The girls were used to the stares and whispers, but were still getting used to the smiles and outspoken admiration. Charlie walked on one side of them, keeping people effectively away, and to their delight, Harry and Ron had come with Kingsley Shacklebolt. Ginny squealed as she threw herself into her boyfriends arms. Hermione wasn't sure she had been coherent enough at five that morning to realize they had said goodbye before.
"I couldn't get them to concentrate and decided to come along myself." Kingsley said, smiling at the two girls.
"Hello Minister."
"Nonsense, Hermione. You know me better than that, it's Kingsley to you."
"Of course, Kingsley. It's good to see you."
"Good luck with your final year Hermione, and Ginny of course." Hermione saw her friend quite distracted and rolled her eyes.
"I'll tell her you said goodbye." Kingsley laughed, his deep throaty voice reassuring and a reminder of good times years before. "Thanks for coming." He gave her a hug and left to talk to people interested in seeing the new, popular Minster to Magic.
"We'll miss you 'Mione." Ron said, giving her a tight hug.
"I'll miss you too Ron. What will I do without you?"
"A lot better than we'll do without you." He laughed and let her go to Harry while he told his sister goodbye.
"Take care Hermione. I'm going to miss you."
Hermione laughed softly. "Ginny and I'll be okay Harry. You made sure of that you know."
"Will you come to visit Remus?" He asked. Hermione buried her face in his shoulder, thinking to their visit the day before. Ginny had come back ahead of the boys, who had stopped to talk to Neville, and had discovered Hermione asleep, tears dried on her cheeks, snuggled close against Remus. Before the boys had returned, Ginny had woken her and she had returned to her position, hoping the look on his sleeping face meant he knew what was going on around him.
"Yes, of course." Harry kissed the top of her wild curls affectionately.
"I'll see you soon then." Hermione turned to hug Mrs. Weasley and Charlie, then she and Ginny were scrambling to find a place aboard the express. King's Cross faded in the distance as they walked along the train, looking for seats. Finally, they found one that only Dean and Luna were in. Hermione was pleasantly surprised to see her classmate there, having expected to be the only returning Gryffindor.
"Hello Luna, Dean." She settled across from them, curious at how they studiously looked away from each other and seemed to have suddenly parted. Ginny raised one eyebrow and sat next to Hermione. "How are you?"
Luna smiled brightly. "Wonderful, thank you. And quite happy to be returning to Hogwarts. I missed it." Hermione smiled gently, knowing the girl had spent months trapped in the Malfoy's dungeon but was still her own strange, but cheerful self.
"Doing good." Dean answered, sneaking a glance at Luna. Ginny inconspicuously elbowed Hermione as she leaned back against the seat, a smile playing on her lips.
"Yes, it looks like it." She remarked and watched him flush. Hermione smiled at the two across from them and settled back as well, looking forward to an enjoyable trip. Which it was. The four friends filled each other in, Hermione updating them on Remus' condition and Luna bubbling about the success of The Quibbler, which Hermione could no longer find reason to insult, having seen the loyalty the Lovegood's had shown while most of the wizarding world turned against Harry. Dean related relief at his mother's safety and that his young sister was starting at Hogwarts that year, the second wizard in the family. She had apparently made fast friends with the little Creevey girl and was sitting with her. Hermione was saddened at the mention of the Creevey family, wondering how they were doing after losing a son. Colin had been exasperating, but he was still a schoolmate and fellow housemate.
Darkness had fallen as Hogsmeade came into view down the tracks and the train began to slow. The tiny village gave Hermione a surge of happiness and a sense of place. Just out of sight, around the bend, was the castle she had called home for so long. A smile played on her lips as she slipped into her robes and let Dean lift her trunk down for her. She nodded when Ginny poked her from behind while they exited the compartment, acknowledging she had seen the guiding hand Dean placed softly on Luna's back.
She winced when she saw the thestrals, but pretended, along with everyone else, that it didn't matter. Choosing a seat facing away from them, she let herself get caught up in the excited chatter. From the other carriages she could hear people talking and laughing, just like she remembered from years before. A smile washed over her as she took it all in. The world was healing.
"Were we that small?" Whispered Dean as the troop of first years followed Professor McGonagall into the Great Hall before the feast. Hermione smiled, remembering a similar comment Ron had made two years before.
"Yes. Well, you never were." Said Ginny. The tall boy had beat Ron by a couple of inches in height, even in first year he could have passed as a third.
"I knew they were getting smaller." He said. Hermione rolled her eyes and surveyed the room, clapping when Ginny did, otherwise oblivious to the proceedings. She noticed only a handful of students in her year returned. Dean, for one, and in Hufflepuff she saw Eddie Macmillian and Hannah Abbott, and a Ravenclaw whose name she could not recall; no Slytherins had returned. She was sobered by the small numbers. The Patil twins had been pulled out at the end of sixth year, Dean had been on the run just like her, leaving Seamus and Neville to be the only ones who actually graduated. She unconsciously squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the bench, trying to block the images assailing her. Classmates, comrades, and friends had died here.
"Hermione?" Ginny's soft whisper brought her back to the present. Opening her eyes, she saw that the sorting was finished and the interim headmistress, McGonagall, was giving the command to eat. Hermione felt a pang of nostalgia when the regular, boisterous 'Dig in!' was not delivered by Dumbledore.
"Hmm?"
"You okay?" The vibrant red head was looking at her friend with concern, having noticed her internal struggle.
"Yeah." Hermione whispered. "I'm fine. Just… you know." Ginny nodded, patted her hand, and turned to engage a boy from her year in conversation. Hermione, glad she hadn't pressed her, quietly went about her meal, looking forward to when she could ascend to Gryffindor tower and collapse into her familiar, soft, four poster bed. When the tables emptied, she followed Dean and Ginny up the stairs, skipping the false one without thought, and coming to a stop in front of the Fat Lady. The returning students in her year had all been given status equal with prefects so Dean muttered the password 'Victory' and they crawled through the hole.
She was wrong: the bed was much softer than she recalled. Hermione barely had the energy to change into her pajamas before she collapsed into a long, dreamless sleep. Nothing woke her until the sun was streaming through the window, directly into her eyes, and Ginny was rummaging in her trunk, banging about.
Usually she would have spent time unpacking the night before, but Hermione could not bring herself to regret the precious hours of sleep she had gotten. To top off the feeling of contentment, she enjoyed a large breakfast with an excellent cup of tea and the Daily Prophet. There was a large cover story about Harry and Ron and their auror training. By the picture on the front, she could tell they were annoyed by the invasion, not flattered by the attention. She smiled, chuckling softly to herself, glad that all they had managed to get about her was that she was returning to Hogwarts. In the castle, under the watchful eye of the formidable Minerva McGonagall, she knew she was safe from reporters.
McGonagall was just then passing out timetables and Hermione was excited to see what her schedule was to be. That day she had potions, arithmancy, charms, and ancient runes. She lamented not having her two best friends to share any of that time with. Grinning, she ruefully realized they would only have been in two of them anyway: overly scholarly classes were not their forte. Ron said he personally described them as 'men of action', not dusty old bookish types. Rushing on to say that librarian was only sexy for a woman when Hermione raised one eyebrow. She hadn't been offended, merely laughing at her blushing friend.
It didn't take her long to realize that not only was she without her best friends, she was without a challenge and nothing was holding her interest. At lunch, she picked over her food in frustration. McGonagall had been right: there was nothing left for her to learn in these classes. She'd talk to her that evening.