(Flashback)

Hermione was walking along a quiet street in London. It was a cloudy day and she needed to find her new flat within the hour.
She looked down at her map as she searched for the right streets names. "Pipple Lane...number 105." She muttered under her breath. Clutching the key the landlord had given her in her hand, she went into the tall building.

She took the elevator to the fifth floor, apartment number 351.

She unlocked the door with a small click. It was one of the smallest flats she could find. Hermione didn't need much space. After all, she was just an 18 year old girl with a backpack and a suitcase.

Like she had requested, the flat was tiny. It had a bathroom, a bedroom, and a tiny kitchen with a living room attached to it. You could see every room in the house from the door.

That night, Hermione unpacked her things. Well, what she had. She put her sun screen and soap in the bathroom. She put her water in the refrigerator, which came with the flat, and her remaining food.

The next day, Hermione took a cab to Hamilton Street a few blocks down. Hermione hadn't chosen to live at 105 Pipple Lane on purpose. She knew the area like the back of her hand.

The driver let her out at the address she had given him.
Hermione was standing in front of a small but once cozy-looking house. But It wasn't any where near charming or cozy now. She felt tears sting her eyes as she looked at the broken windows and broken furniture littering the yard. This had been her home.

She walked in. The house was torn apart as she knew it would be. The death eaters must have searched it several times. She climbed up the dusty stairs to her room.

The door was hanging off it's hinges. In her room, like the rest of the house, there were papers and books covering the floor. Hermione began sifting through the clutter, looking for something that had survived the death eaters. She found her old teddy bear lying in a corner. She had had it since she was seven. Hermione put it in her bag, smiling to herself. She walked over to her bookshelf. Most of the books had been thrown off the shelves, but a few remained. She picked up her old copy of Cinderella, and laughed softly as she remembered the times when her father had read her that book before she went to sleep at night. She put it in her bag, as well.

Hermione had found a few more things before she left, including a couple more books, a jewelry box, some clothes, a scrapbook, and a box of little keepsakes she had hidden under her bed.

On the ride home, she looked through the items she had recovered. When she got to the scrapbook, she wondered about her parents in Australia. They didn't even know who she was. And here was Hermione, alone in a flat in London with no one to turn to.

(Flashback ends)

Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Ron slapped his hand down on his alarm clock. He sat up, yawning.
Saturday.

He went down stairs to get his coffee. It had been a week since he, Harry and Ginny had been to see Hermione. He still couldn't get it off his mind. He had wished they had more time to talk. There were about one million questions to ask her. But one thing was bugging him in particular. Hermione's parents. Were they still in Australia? 'Well, Hermione couldn't have gotten them back without magic...and even if she started using magic again now, it would take her months to regain her skill.' He thought. 'Poor Hermione...'

*Two Weeks Later*

Ron knocked on the door of the burrow. It was time for the Sunday Weasley family dinner.
Mrs. Weasley answered the door. "Ron!" She cried, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Ron walked into the crowded house. Harry, Ginny, bill, Fluer, George and Angelia were already there.

Mrs. Wesley clapped her hands. "Now we've just got to wait for Percy and Audrey."
Ron sat down next to Harry and Ginny. "Hey guys," he said. "Hi, little James!" Ron exclaimed, picking a giggling James up off the floor.

"So, Ron, Harry, Ginny," George said to the three. "Angelia and I have tickets to the chudley cannons game next week on the nineteenth. Interested?"

Harry and Ginny nodded. "We're free next week. I'll see if Mum can watchJames." Said Ginny. They both looked at Ron.
"Um...September 19th..." He said. All of a sudden he felt his heart drop into his stomach. "September 19th...that's Hermione's birthday." Said Ron.
Then a look came over Harry's face that clearly showed he had just remembered as well.

Dinner went well. Ron was waiting for the perfect moment to bring up the sticky subject of Hermione. After everyone was getting to third helpings, Ron cleared his throat and stood up. Everyone at the table looked at him, suddenly becoming very quiet. "Uh...I just wanted to say that...um, Me, Harry and Ginny went to see Hermione two weeks ago."

There was dead silence for a full seven seconds. Then questions and quarreling broke out around the table. "Woah! Oi!" Yelled Ron, raising his hands. The table quieted down. "I know none of us have heard from her in nearly three years, but Harry managed to track down her address in a file at the ministry. We wrote her and then we went to see her. She's doing well, but it's going to be a while before she can come see all of you. She still isn't using magic, so when and IF she comes to a Weasley family dinner, I don't want any of you bringing up the M-word. Or the night she left. Is that clear?" Everyone at the table nodded in agreement.

That night, Ron sat up all night thinking about Hermione. "I've got to get her something to make up for three years of missed birthdays," he had told Harry earlier.

It couldn't be related to magic in any way...he knew that much. He also knew that Hermione wasn't the same person as she was before she had left. 'What does she like now?'

After countless sleepless hours of thinking and thinking, it hit him. He had remembered that morning two weeks ago...and he knew what the perfect gift for Hermione would be.

He was going to go find Mr. And Mrs. Granger.