Chapter Eleven

"The spawn of the one and the only

The child of the sacrifice and of the chief

Will unite in soulful matrimony

And end the ever consuming grief"

What on earth did that mean? Hermione had been sitting in the exact same spot for the past hour, trying to figure out what to do. She had immediately fled the department of mysteries after hearing the prophecy, wanting to get some air and clear her mind. And here she was now, buried deep within a secret corner of the café, known only to the kind waiter who kept on coming over with a concerned expression on his face and pushing a mug of steaming hot coffee in front of her. She supposed that she did look like quite a sorry sight indeed. She looked completely out of place with her formal attire in the ancient building that her been somewhat of a shelter to her during her childhood years.

Hermione exhaled deeply at rested her head on her hands. Spawn of the one and the only… Well, Luna had said that both Harry and herself were included in the prophecy so 'the one' would probably be Harry who was famously known as the chosen one. And since she even the thought of him going off and making 'spawn' with some other woman made her shudder, Hermione decided that she would just assume that 'the only' would be her role in the prophecy.

The second line was a bit trickier, who was the 'sacrifice' and the 'chief'? Hermione groaned as she rubbed her forehead. She was sick of prophecies… And the department of mysteries. It seemed that whenever she entered something bad would happen to her. Even though she was an unspeakable herself Hermione had never had to travel to the mystery to work there. She was a spell creator and since that didn't require many resources apart from books and the necessary protective enchantments that she was more than capable of providing for herself, Hermione worked from home. This was one of the big reasons why Harry and Hermione had decided that it would be a great step forward on their part to move to America to escape the overwhelming, gloomy and grief-filled atmosphere that clouded everything in England.

With a frustrated sigh Hermione rested her head on the cheap plastic table and unsuccessfully tried to block the unwelcome noise of scraping chairs, angry mutterings, rushed orders and tea spoons clinking against their ceramic prison with her hands. Hermione could barely manage to not break out into a huge rant to the couple behind her about how nobody cared that they were breaking up and that they should be more sensitive to the people in the world who are actually going through real grown up problems.

"Excuse me…Miss?" A hesitant voice spoke. Slowly Hermione looked up to see the lanky waiter towering over her with that same apprehensive look staining his heart-shaped face.

"Yes?" Hermione tried to answer kindly despite her aggravated state.

"You look a bit down… Would you like to have a chat?" She felt slightly sorry for the boy- he was only trying to help. 'Wait a minute' Hermione's brain demanded and suddenly all thoughts were pushed aside. There was no way that this 'boy' was any younger than herself. Hermione leaned closer as she tried to get a better look at the person in front of her. No, this man was definitely the same age as her, if not younger. She was sure of this by his wary movements which suggested that he had always been kind hearted but wasn't naïve enough to think that he could help everyone in the world. Since when had Hermione begun to think herself older and more troubled than the other people surrounding her? Oh, she knew the answer to that question all right, but it was buried deep within a murky pool of denial.

"That's very sweet of you. Here, have a seat." Hermione responded, hopeful that a conversation with this stranger would fix all her problems.

"Thanks, I'm Neal by the way."

"Hey, I'm Hermione."

"So why are you in the middle of a shabby café, looking like you're about to have some sort of breakdown?"

"Have you ever just felt like giving up, Neal?"

"Ofcoarse I have, who hasn't?" Neal answered with a chuckle.

"And what did you do about it." Hermione asked eagerly. At this point Neal began to smirk and fold his arms.

"I ran away to another town, leaving behind my rich family, high-ranking job and, ofcoarse all my wealth and I started to work as a waiter at minimum wage." He said this all so casually as if he was describing todays seafood special.

"…And then what?" Hermione asked slowly.

"Well, I've never been happier, I'm surrounded by a positive, stress-free environment and my boyfriend and I are planning to move in together pretty soon." This last part was said so dreamily that Hermione tried to hide her laugh until she realised that this was probably what she sounded like when she was talking about her own boyfriend.

"I can't exactly do that though." Hermione murmured.

"Well, I'm not telling you to. I'm just saying; do what you can to cut out the source of stress in your life and it'll keep you from falling apart in random public places." And with the help of an unknowing muggle the answer to Hermione's question was wrenched out of its shadowy enclosure and thrown violently at an unsuspecting Miss Granger.

"Of coarse! Thank you so much, Neal! I've got to go now, but I hope that I see you again soon." Hermione cried as she quickly stood up and rushed out of the café, but not before hastily throwing a few coins on the table and placing a grateful kiss on her saviours head.