Wow! I got carried away with this chapter! I've had to split it up, otherwise it would've gone on for ages. That's good news though, because it means that as long as I get them to Dreamre Ginny in the Clouds quickly, the next few chapters will be up quickly. Sorry this one took so long. I was away on tour with my orchestra and I completely forgot to send it to her to beta and send back in time before I went away. She's doing an amazing job though and she's working very hard at curing what she calls my "said fever," so a huge thank you to her!

Thanks for all the reviews and everything for the last chapter. It makes me happy when I see my inbox the morning after I put a chapter up, so please keep doing it if you like what I'm doing!


Harry had never known Hermione to be so quiet. For the rest of the evening, she sat in silence, just sipping her tea, nodding and occasionally saying,"mmhmm," as Harry planned out the next few days. Obviously, Hogwarts was the first place they had to visit so that McGonagall could give them a proper plan of action, but there were so many other things that Hermione would have to do too. Muggle or not, she was still going to need to live in the wizarding world, even if it was just a little bit.

"We'll need to go to Diagon Alley too. You can buy your books and everything there. Oh, and your wand, obviously. And you'll need to open an account at Gringotts. That's the bank; it's run by goblins. That could be tricky, seeing as I tried to trick one of the most important ones once... Never mind. You'll need to be measured for robes as well. I don't know whether you'll need school ones, but we all wear them when we get together in the wizarding world, so you should probably have a few sets. You might want to get an owl or something while you're at it. It'll be useful for sending letters when I'm not around."

He paused, realising Hermione seemed to have stopped listening. "Are you OK, Hermione?"

She was staring into space, a faraway expression on her face, but jumped and looked at Harry when she realised he'd asked her something. "Sorry, what?"

"Are you OK? You seem a bit distracted."

He kicked himself. Of course she was distracted; he'd dropped an enormous bombshell on her. He looked at her apologetically, to which she gave a weak smile.

"I'm fine, just a bit tired. I think I should head homeand get some sleep. Things might make a bit more sense in the morning once all this has sunk in. Besides, if we're going to Hogwarts tomorrow, I'd better get a good night's sleep."

"Do you want to stay here?" he asked her. They hadn't spent the night together since the incident after the party, not even just to sleep. He'd been too scared to in case the same thing happened again, and he thought she might be a bit insulted if he just got into bed next to her and went straight to sleep every night.

"Oh no, it's fine," she replied, "I think I need my own bed tonight, and I'm kind of embarrassed about what happened last time. Again, I'm really sorry about that."

"It's alright. It wasn't your fault," he told her. "We're going to get this all sorted out and then you can stay as often as you want without feeling worried, OK? I'll come and get you in the morning. Is it alright if I just pop up in your living room or something, rather than get up really early and walk over?"

"I suppose so," Hermione said in a daze, looking confused.

"I'm really sorry for springing this on you tonight." He paused, thinking about what he should say next. "I know it's not easy, and I didn't go about it in the most sensitive way, but you're going to be fine. You can be as involved in the wizarding world as you want. Most wizards these days live in both."

"No, don't apologise, Harry. It was a bit of a shock, but I'm glad you told me. My ma…magic obviously needs to be controlled," explained Hermione. "I don't want to hurt anyone. Not breaking things all the time would be nice! As far as being involved in the wizarding world goes, I suppose I won't know about that until I try, will I?"

Harry nodded in agreement and handed Hermione her handbag and the leftover cheesecake.

"Let me know when you're home," he said. He'd got into the habit of getting her to text him when she got back to her house so he knew she'd got back safely. He didn't know how to read text messages on his phone; he'd never really been into muggle technology, but he assumed when his phone beeped that it was her.

"Do you actually know how to use that thing, Harry, being a wizard and everything?" she asked.

"Well, no. Dean does though and he'll be back in a bit," he laughed.

Hermione joined in, laughing for the first time that night.

"Ok, I'll see you tomorrow morning."

...

Harry was still up an hour later, despite his promises to Hermione that he'd get an early night too, seeing as they had a big day ahead of them. He was definitely ready to go to bed; he kept dozing off on the sofa. His phone had beeped though, and he was sure it was her, but he was waiting for Dean just to make sure.

Just as he forced his eyes open and made himself sit up straight again, Dean apparated into the living room, holding a very scruffy and tired-looking George.

"Budge up, Harry. George is sleeping here tonight," Dean said, helping George lie down. "We'll talk tomorrow, mate," he reassured George in a low voice. "Get some sleep for now."

George opened his mouth to say something, but yawned instead and fell asleep almost instantly. Harry looked his older friend up and down, taking in the dirty clothes, greasy hair and stubble that was verging on being a beard and looked at Dean, who didn't seem as bothered as he usually did by the mess. He gestured to the kitchen.

"He's in a bad way," Dean said once they were away from him. "He hasn't eaten or slept in days I don't think. I found him in the Hog's Head, stinking of firewhiskey and mumbling about some guilty feeling that won't go away. I told him he could stay here as long as he wants."

"He kissed Rebecca after our party," Harry confessed quietly, "We had Angelina charging in and shooting her mouth off about that earlier."

"That must've been fun for you," Dean said amusedly, making a face. "I thought he said something about Rebecca just before we apparated actually, but I didn't want to

ask him about it or push it or anything considering the state he was in. I thought I'd probably misheard him anyway. Why can't he just leave Angelina? Well, I know why he thinks he can't, but he's miserable."

"Maybe he'll see it this time, once he's talked to us and let it all out," Harry added hopefully.

"Doubt it, mate," replied Dean. "He'll give her 'one more chance' for the hundredth time, you know that. How did Hermione cope with Angelina, by the way?"

"Not great," Harry admitted somewhat sheepishly. He couldn't help grinning though when he added, "She nearly cursed Angelina into next week with accidental magic."

Dean's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. "No way! She really did it?"

"Yeah, we're going to Hogwarts in the morning to talk to McGonagall about it." Harry was beaming now.

"Well, that's great, Harry. Really unusual, but great!" Dean buzzed with excitement, forgetting to keep his voice down.

They both froze as they heard movement from the living room. George was awake.

"Should we go and talk to him?" Harry asked.

"No, let him go back to sleep. He needs it. So do you, actually, seeing as you've got such a busy day tomorrow! Go on; get to bed! I'll see you in the morning if I'm up."

...

Hermione sent her text to Harry to let him know she was home and then flopped down on her bed. She was exhausted; it'd been a lot of information to take in, even for her! What were the chances of this happening? What were the chances of her finding a boyfriend who happens to be a wizard, and then him noticing that she was a witch? A witch.She couldn't quite understand that. She'd been so sure Harry was talking nonsense, and had been really scared for a minute that her nice, normal boyfriend was some kind of madman.

Then she'd seen all that magic: the flying cushions, the pink hair, Anglina stepping out of the fire. There was no explaining all that away, although she'd tried her hardest to think of any way to do so to begin with. Then she'd felt it herself, and there was no way she could pretend it was all some kind of elaborate joke. Everything made sense now. Or, at least, she was sure it would if her brain wasn't going in all different directions at one hundred miles an hour. She needed sleep; tomorrow she was going to Harry's old school and she would see lots of new, confusing things. She was going to visit a completely different world from the one she'd been living in for twenty-one years. It wouldn't be any good to go feeling as drained and confused as this.

She got into bed, lay down and turned off her lamp. A few minutes and a lot of tossing and turning later, she turned the lamp back on. No, this wasn't going to work. She couldn't stop replaying the events of the evening in her mind. There was no hope of getting to sleep just yet. Maybe she should phone Rebecca and tell her about the whole Angelina incident. That would be that part of the night off her mind then at least. It was late, but Rebecca wouldn't mind her phoning. She'd done the same to her enough times. They were really close, and had been ever since they'd met in university. They'd been really good for each other. Rebecca had got Hermione to leave the library occasionally and go out and have fun. They were still exactly the same now, and that's probably why they were still such good friends—they balanced each other out.

"Hello?" Rebecca said in a sleepy voice. "'Mione?"

Hermione smiled to herself. That was the one nickname she didn't mind. It had started in the same way most stories about Rebecca started, with her being completely wasted one night. It'd been one of the first nights they'd ever been out together, and Rebecca had been so drunk that she couldn't say Hermione's name. The next morning, when Hermione had filled Rebecca in on the parts of the nights she couldn't remember, her friend had laughed at that bit and the nickname had stuck ever since.

"Hey, Bec. Have I woken you up?"

"Yeah, but I'd only just got to sleep anyway. Are you OK? It's very late for you to still be up."

"I can't sleep. I was just at Harry's—"

She was interrupted by a giggle.

"No, that's not why I can't sleep! It was just a rather eventful night. Angelina turned up."

"Angelina?"

"You know, George's girlfriend."

"Oh."

"Yeah. She'd found out about you somehow and she wasn't best pleased. In fact, she shouted at me quite a lot," Hermione explained to her friend, trying not to sound too annoyed.

Rebecca groaned.

"I'm so sorry, 'Mione! I hope it didn't ruin your night too much."

"Not at all," Hermione smirked. "I shouted back at her. You know me; no one can possibly win an argument against me."

"That's true," Rebecca laughed. "We've certainly given up trying! Ugh, I don't know what George sees in her. He's such a nice guy."

"Well, it's a long story," Hermione sighed. Harry had told her some of the details earlier. "She used to go out with his twin, but then he was killed in," she stopped short, regaining herself quickly, "an accident, so now she's clinging to him because he's the only thing she has left that reminds her of him. It's all very sad. That doesn't change the fact that she's a nasty piece of work though. And she said she wasn't going to break up with him, so I'm just hoping that he gets the courage to dump her."

"Yeah, I hope so too. He really is a lovely guy. I mean, he hardly knew me and he still took me home and looked after me when I was a mess. And he didn't try anything funny either. I, on the other hand..." She began to laugh.

"I know," Hermione replied tiredly. A thought suddenly struck her and she felt her blood run cold for a minute. "You wouldn't be interested in him if he broke up with Angelina would you?"

"God no!" Rebecca said quickly, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She'd thought briefly before that the two of them would actually make a good couple, but now that she knew the truth about George, she wasn't so sure it would work. "'Mione, I was wasted and was a bit too grateful for him helping me out. I hardly remember anything about him really, except that he was nice to me. I like him the best of all Harry's friends, though. I think we'll get on well at any other parties or whatever, as long as that insane witch isn't getting in the way."

Hermione nearly burst out laughed at Rebecca calling Angelina that. She didn't realise how true it was! However, it really made her want to tell Rebecca everything else that had happened. Harry hadn't told her she couldn't tell anyone about it, although he probably just assumed she'd realise that it probably wasn't a very good idea to. She wasn't used to keeping things from Rebecca though, and really wanted to see what her friend thought about the whole situation, if she could convince her she hadn't gone completely mad. Hermione supposed that she just wanted reassurance that it wasn't going to change anything between them. She didn't want to lose Rebecca because she didn't know where she'd be without her. It'd certainly put her mind at ease and help her sleep if she told her.

"Something else happened too tonight, Bec," she finally said. "If I tell you, do you promise to believe me? And not to judge me or hate me or anything?"

"Of course," Rebecca said. "What happened?"

"Well, you know how I keep breaking things?"

"Yes, I have noticed that once or twice," her friend teased. "What about it?"

"Well," Hermione began, taking a deep breath, "apparently, it's because I'm a witch. I haven't been trained or taught how to use magic, so it bursts out when I'm angry, for example, and breaks things."

Rebecca was silent, which Hermione didn't take as a good sign, but she carried on.

"Harry's a wizard, and he'd noticed little things about me that he thought were strange, so tonight he tried to trick me into it. He made me really angry and as I was shouting at him, the piece of pizza I was holding turned black in my hand. We're going to this magic school place tomorrow where he and all his friends went to talk to the headmistress and see what can be done about it."

There was still silence on the other end of the line.

"Rebecca?"

"Hermione, don't go anywhere with him! This sounds dangerous! How can you possibly believe that?"

"No, honestly, it's true! He made a cushion fly across the room, turned his own hair pink and then Angelina stepped out of the fire when she came to shout at me. It's one of the ways they travel, apparently."

"People can't travel through fire, Hermione. They'd get burned," Rebecca declared as if she was talking to a six year old. "Did Harry make you any drinks where you couldn't see him or anything like that? I can't believe it! I actually liked him."

"He didn't slip me anything," Hermione sighed. "It's the kind of thing you have to see to believe. I shouldn't have told you over the phone. I'll show you when I get back tomorrow."

"Hermione! You can't go! It's not safe! I'll call the police if you do!"

Hermione shook her head despite the fact that Rebecca couldn't see her. She shouldn't have said anything. She herself hadn't believed it even when she'd been told by a wizard who'd demonstrated magic to her. How could she have expected Rebecca to believe her when she couldn't even explain it properly or give her any proof?

"Look, Bec, I'm going. You can't win an argument with me, remember? I'll come round to yours as soon as I get back so you know I'm alright, I promise. In fact, we're going really early, so if I'm not back by say, lunchtime, then you can call the police. We're going to Scotland."

"Scotland? You think you're going to Scotland and that you'll be back by lunchtime?" Rebecca squeaked, her voice rising in pitch. If it had been any other time, Hermione would have laughed. She'd never heard her friend sound so much like her before! "I wish Catherine were here. She deals with this kind of stuff every day. She'd know what to say to get you to see sense."

"Don't say anything to Catherine!" Hermione practically shouted. Besides being a psychiatrist, Catherine was also incredibly superstitious and Hermione had no idea how she was going to tell her everything without being shouted at or sectioned.

"Fine. I won't for now. Listen, if you have any common sense, which I know you do, you won't go. Either way, I expect to see you at lunchtime. If you don't show, I'm phoning the police."

"Fine," Hermione said defiantly. "I'll see you when I get back."

"Don't be like that, 'Mione," pleaded Rebecca, her voice returning to normal. "I'm just worried about you. You're not the type to believe in all this rubbish."

"I didn't think I was either. I'll see you tomorrow. Sorry for waking you up."

Hermione turned her lamp off again. It wasn't going to be any easier to sleep after that. It hadn't really helped at all, but then how could she have expected it to? Telling Rebecca wasn't one of her best ideas. The most she could do now was try and get some sleep before Harry 'popped up' in the morning.

...

It was more a crack than a pop, she realised as she jumped what felt like a mile in the air while she was getting dressed.

"Only me," a voice called from downstairs.

"Come on up," she called back.

She heard another crack and a split-second later, he appeared right next to her, causing her to jump again and fall back onto her bed. So wizards could transport themselves through thin air it seemed. It was a bit strange, but no stranger than travelling through fire, she supposed.

"You could've just used the stairs," she said with a grin. Watching Harry doing magic seemed a lot more normal already after a night's rest. When she'd been a little girl, one of her mother's favourite mottos was "it'll make more sense after you've had a nice long sleep," and she supposed it was true. That said, she still felt a little bit sick with nerves every time she thought of having to do that kind of thing herself.

"Could've done, but didn't feel like it," he laughed. "Besides, I thought it'd be good to give you a preview of how we're going to get to Hogwarts."

"I'm going to do that?" she asked nervously, the sick feeling returning.

"Well, no. I'm going to do that and you're going to hold on. It's not particularly pleasant, just to warn you. It's better when you can do it yourself. There's a test you can do at some point if you want, a bit like a muggle driving test."

Hermione secretly thought that there was no way that she was going to make herself disappear into thin air, but didn't say so to Harry and just nodded instead. He offered her his arm in return.

"Let's go then, shall we?"

...

They apparated just outside the main gates of Hogwarts. Hermione stumbled slightly when they touched down on the ground. Harry was prepared though and caught her.

"Are you OK?" he asked her.

"Yeah," she replied, her breathing returning to normal as he rubbed circles on her back. "You were right, that wasn't nice. Is this Hogwarts?"

"Yes, this is it." A feeling of pride swelled up inside him at the sight of his old school. "It's not bad, is it?"

"It's amazing," said Hermione at a slight loss for words. "I can't believe you went to school in a castle."

"Wait 'til you see the library," Harry told her. "You'll love it. I'll just let someone know we're here."

He cast a patronus charm and sent it into the grounds to find someone. He hoped it wasn't Filch; he didn't want him to be the first person she met in Hogwarts. Squinting at the figure in the distance, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Hi, Harry," Neville greeted him warmly as he unlocked the gate. "Haven't seen you for a while."

"Yeah, well if you will live in Scotland, Nev," Harry joked. "Is McGonagall here? This is Hermione, and we need to see her."

"Hi, Hermione," Neville smiled. "Minerva's up in her office. I would take you up myself, but I've got third years to try and control. They're very excited that Harry Potter's here!"

Harry smiled, but he knew that he was going to be interrogated by Hermione as soon as Neville was gone because of that remark.

"It's OK. We'll make our way up now. I might give Hermione a tour as we go. It was great to see you again, Nev. You'll have to come down and catch up with us sometime, or we'll all come to Hogsmeade."

"Yeah, definitely. I'll see you soon," Neville said. "I'd better be getting back. We're potting mandrakes."

"He seems nice," Hermione said as Neville left.

"Yeah, he was in my year at school," Harry explained. "He's great. Brilliant with plants."

"Are those plants moving?" Hermione asked nervously, squinting into the distance that Neville had retreated to. "Am I going to have to do that too?"

"Don't worry, it's easier than it looks, and Neville's a really good teacher. Come on," he said, hoping to get her moving before the plants started screaming, "let's head up to the castle."

They walked through the grounds and up to the main entrance of the castle in silence while Hermione took everything in. When she finally opened her mouth to speak, Harry knew what was coming. It was only a matter of time before Hermione's curious nature got the better of her.

"So, why were Neville's pupils all so excited to see you?" she asked.

"Well, it's a long story," he said, opening the door. "Remember what I was saying about the war and Voldemort and everything? Well, I had a bigger part in it all than I let on. To give you the quick version, it was Voldemort who gave me this scar when he tried to kill me when I was a baby and he ended up almost killing himself, and then he tried to kill me several more times when he came back. I was the only person who could kill him, and I did, obviously. I didn't want to overload you with information last night, but I'm kind of famous here."

Hermione looked at him, open-mouthed.

"It's strange, but I actually believe that," she laughed. "Wow, so my boyfriend's a huge war hero then?"

"I suppose so," he said, blushing slightly. Lots of people had called him that, but it felt strange admitting it to Hermione. She didn't fully understand what had happened and what he'd had to do. He'd explain it all to her another time when she didn't have so much going on. It was best for her to get to grips with Hogwarts first.

"You suppose so?" a voice asked indignantly. "You're far too modest, my boy! You saved us all."

Harry turned round, but there was no one there except a portrait of some wizarding poet with a long beard holding a quill.

"Did that portrait just talk?" Hermione asked. "Wait, is that portrait moving?"

"Of course I am. What am I supposed to do?" he asked, jabbing his quill at her. "Just stand completely still? I'm not young enough for that. My joints'll seize up."

He flounced off to another portrait somewhere, leaving just an empty picture of a library.

"It's magic. Don't ask me how it's done," he laughed. "Come on, we'll have to hurry if we're going to catch the staircase."

He carried on walking up the corridor, but Hermione was frozen to the spot, looking questioningly at the portrait, as if it was going to jump off the wall and run away.

"Hermione, come on!"

"What do you mean, 'catch the staircase?'" she asked as she walked quickly to catch up with him.

Harry didn't have to answer her though, as at that exact moment, it swung around so the bottom step was at their feet. Sensing Hermione's nervousness—the closest thing she'd seen to this would have been an escalator, and that wasn't really that close at all—he took a few steps and held out his hand to her. She took a deep breath and stood on the first step. When she seemed satisfied that it wasn't going to move again, she went to the next one. It was a slow process getting her upstairs, and she gripped the banister and looked at her feet the whole time, but they eventually reached the top. She smiled at Harry, and he felt a surge of pride. If she had to be Sorted, he had a feeling she might be put into Gryffindor.

They soon reached the gargoyle that guarded the headmistress' office, where McGonagall was already waiting for them. Harry was relieved; he didn't want to be standing there for ages trying to guess the password. She looked them both up and down with her usual no-nonsense stare, before smiling warmly at them.

"Hello, Harry," she said, "And you must be Hermione. Well, come upstairs and we'll have some fruitcake and a chat. There's no point standing around in the corridors, especially not while Peeves is about!"

Although Hermione flinched when she saw the poltergeist the woman was referring to, she didn't seem as nervous as she'd been about the portrait or the stairs. She didn't know what Peeves was like, Harry thought with a wry smile, but he was pleased; she was obviously adapting to the wizarding world quickly. He had a feeling she'd really like Hogwarts, although of course he couldn't see how anyone wouldn't.

"I'd like to show you the memory straight away, Professor," he said excitedly the minute they stepped into her office. "It's a really good one, really shows the magic obviously."

Without waiting for his former teacher's reply, which he was sure would be something about not getting his hopes up, he put his wand to his temple and pulled out the memory. Hermione gasped at the sight, but didn't say anything.

"This is a pensieve, Hermione," he told her. He didn't want her to feel confused about anything or left out. "I've just taken a memory from my head, and I'm going to put it in this basin so Professor McGonagall can see it and tell us what she thinks."

"You can look at people's memories?" Hermione asked. "That must be very interesting, and so useful! You'd be able to tell when people were lying to you, and it must make things much easier for the police, or whatever it is you have. Sorry," she said, blushing. "You already know all that. It's just so strange to think that you can do that."

"That's alright, Miss Granger." McGonagall smiled. "I'll just take a look at this. You and Harry wait here. I should only be a few minutes. No, Mr. Potter, you may not come with me," she said sternly, seeing Harry open his mouth. "I don't need a running commentary from you, thank you very much. Help yourselves to fruitcake and tea."

Harry gestured to the two seats in front of McGonagall's desk, and flicked his wand in the direction of the cake, bringing a plate to each of them.

"I wish I could've gone with her," Hermione admitted, nodding towards the pensieve. "I'd have liked to have a look at my own memory."

"You wouldn't have found it strange?" Harry asked her.

"No, it would have been fascinating! Well, it would be a little strange, but all of this is and I still like it. What do you think she's going to say?"

"I know what she's going to say," Harry smiled.

As if on cue, McGonagall emerged from the pensieve and sat behind her desk. She looked slightly confused, but she didn't seem angry or stressed by what she'd just seen.

"Well, Miss Granger," she said in a voice slightly weaker than usual, "it seems that Harry's right. You're a witch, and a very powerful one at that it seems. I think it's important that you attend Hogwarts and learn to control your magic immediately."