Hermione awoke to the sounds of movement and, groaning, stuffed her head back into her pillow. There was talking coming from the next room, but she didn't care. After the last night, there was no way she would get up this early. However early it was, it was too early. Tossing heavily to one side, Hermione tried to position her ears between the cushion and the pillow. While she heard less, the position was uncomfortable and made her focus on the pressure against her head.

Releasing the pillow, she let the sounds from whatever crazy people had decided to wake up already wash over her. They would need a severe talking to, of course, when Hermione was properly rested. Her mind drifted back to that lovely dream she had just had. Hogwarts on a lovely day with Hermione relaxing on the grounds with her friends. They hadn't even said anything. It was just so…peaceful.

Bang. Hermione's eyes opened wide. All she could see was the striped cushion of the sofa she had slept on. Bang. Sighing, Hermione rolled over to look across the room towards the kitchen. There was no one else in the living room, but she could see signs of activity in the next room where her parents and George's parents were standing around the table.

"Really, considering everything…" her father was saying in his most conciliatory tones.

"Robert," her mum said, giving him a look, "this is too much. I don't want my daughter exposed to all of this! It is too dangerous, you hear me?"

"This is far from ordinary," Mrs. Weasley said, her voice more subdued than usual. "I've only ever heard of - of…"

"Possession," Mr. Weasley offered, helpfully.

"Possession spells," she affirmed. "B-but, she is being seen to by Madam Pomfrey. That woman can tend to any injury. Why, I remember when Arthur and I were at school. One time, he had a case of Galloping Cough, made him run around like a horse, don't you know? But she fixed him up in a trice."

"Possession? Being forced to run by some magical ailment?" Hermione's mum exclaimed. "Oh, this is too much. Robert, we should leave, immediately. Hermione doesn't need to be around any more of this. She's just a child!"

"Dear," her father said, "while I agree with you in principle, I think we really ought to-"

Bang! Hermione's mum slammed her fist on the table again. "My daughter will not be turned into a horse or controlled or …"

"Of course not," Hermione said from the doorway, startling the adults. "But, whether or not I go to school, all of this stuff exists. We know about it now. The only defence against it is to learn. I'd rather go in knowing than not."

"Jeannie, dear," Emilia said, looking down at her daughter, "you don't understand. This is too dangerous for you to - if they had told us before we let you go to that place…"

"I understand, well," Hermione said, stepping into the kitchen. "There's danger. There's danger in the Muggle world, too. There are bad people out there who want to hurt us, but there are also good people who want to stop them. That can happen anywhere. Nowhere is perfectly safe, but everyone has adjusted to the dangers out there. There are spells to undo most any spell that can be cast on you, which is more than could be said for what Muggles do to each other.

"And, I've learned so much in the last year and a half, mum. I have something…special, something different in this world. I couldn't go back to - I couldn't let that go forever. It would be like someone telling you that you can never look in someone's mouth again. You can never fix a tooth that cracked when someone fell or … or … or help teach children how to take better care of their teeth. Would you give that up?"

There was silence. Hermione, embarrassed, realised she had almost been shouting by the end of it. Lowering her head, she muttered, "Please, don't take away my new life."

Hermione waited in the moment of quiet that followed, nearly shaking with terrified energy. To go, to leave all of this, including Harry and George and Fred, to never see Fred at all after he was petrified, it all seemed a horrible thing. The idea of her parents trying to take her away had never occurred to her since they had agreed to send her to Hogwarts. They had been very understanding and supportive, then. They had been proud, too, proud to see their daughter embrace something so challenging. Now, well, she didn't know anymore.

Hermione felt tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. Then, suddenly, she was caught up in an embrace by both her parents.

"Jeannie dear," her mother said, "I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean it, dear."

"Your mother and I were just worried," her father said, holding the pair of them close. "After the attack, and all…"

"I know," Hermione said into her mother's shoulder. Her crying became a soft laugh. "Thank you. I love you both."

"We love you, too," her father said. Her mother was crying too much now to speak.

After a moment, Molly asked, "Would you three like some breakfast? I can whip up some eggs and toast before you go…"

Emilia turned, saying, "Yes, but we will stay. I'm-I'm sorry. It is all a bit new and scary, you understand?"

"Of course," Molly said, welcoming the help, as the pair entered the kitchen with their sleeves pushed up.

"How are you feeling?" Hermione asked, looking over at Mr. Weasley.

"Better, thank you," he said, his usual smile breaking over his face. "I woke up this morning with a little headache before Molly filled me in on everything."

"And how is Ginny?" she asked.

"Sleeping," he said. "We went up to see her a moment ago, and she's resting quietly. After you depart, we're going to meet Madam Pomfrey at St. Mungo's to have the Healers there do a thorough check-up, but Madam Pomfrey feels confident that she will be well enough for the new term."

"So, Dumbledore is opening the school again?" Robert asked.

"We think so," Arthur said. "As it is pretty obvious that they were using Ginny to set the basilisk loose, they canot continue to do that. The search will continue, of course."

"Maybe Ginny can help them find the basilisk?" Hermione suggested.

"We hope so," Arthur said, sitting down and sighing. "From what I've heard, she doesn't remember much."

"Memory spell," Hermione said, nodding. "They must have wiped it from her mind."

"Maybe it is better for her not to remember," Robert said. "Trauma can make things worse."

"I suppose," Arthur said, sounding dejected.

There came some footsteps from above, and the their conversation stopped. Everyone looked over as the door to the stair opened, and George tumbled into the room, followed by Harry. George rolled until he hit the table, but Harry stopped himself short, wincing before his friend struck.

George popped up like a jack-in-the-box, and stuck his nose in the air, walking around with importance. "Nothing to see here, citizens," he said. "Everything is normal."

Harry shook his head, looking around. "Morning," he said.

"Morning, Harry," Hermione said. "Morning, George."

"How was the sofa?" George asked.

"Fine," she said. "Did you two sleep well?"

"Yeah," Harry said, "just not enough."

"This one dragged me out of sleep," George said, pointing at Harry.

Hermione chuckled. The adults had all gone back to their own conversations.

"That's because I figured it out," Harry said.

"Figured what out?" Hermione asked, noticing how serious he looked.

"The potion," Harry said. "It came to me in a dream last night."

"But we determined it was a basilisk causing this, Harry," George said, "remember?"

"Yes, yes," Harry said, "but that doesn't mean that potions can't cure the effects."

"What did you figure out?" Hermione asked.

"Well," Harry said, "we were focusing too much on replacing the mandrake root in our research. Rather than replace it, we just need to come at it from another direction."

"I don't follow," George said, shaking his head.

"We don't need to replicate the effects of that ingredient," Harry said. "We need a totally new potion!"

"Doesn't that just put us back at square one?" Hermione asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Nope," Harry said. "In fact, the school should have all the ingredients we need."

"So, we could get Fred back today?" Hermione asked loudly, her eyes widening.

Everyone in the kitchen seemed to freeze at once. Hermione saw that everyone was looking at Harry and suddenly felt guilty that she had alerted everyone to it like that.

"Well, maybe," Harry said, growing red. "We'd need to get Professor Snape, Sprout, and Dumbledore to look at the idea, but…"

"Arthur, get Dumbledore on the Floo," Molly practically shouted, but she needn't have. He was already rushing for the grate.

He tossed in the Floo Powder, and stuck his head in the sudden green flames, shouting, "Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts!" Then, his head seemed to disappear.

Hermione, George, and Harry were then surrounded by the remaining adults and a curious looking Bill who had just emerged from the stair.

"Harry, what's this all about?" Molly asked. "Why do we need Dumbledore?"

Harry hesitated under the many eyes looking down on him.

Hermione answered, "Harry says he has an idea that can bring back the people who were petrified. I knew you could do it, Harry."

She beamed over at him, and his face seemed to grow a little less ashen. The others looked ecstatic. Molly was hugging Hermione's mum and even Percy, who followed Bill down, had clapped Harry on the shoulder with a resounding thud that sent him falling forward.

"He said he will be along shortly, Molly," Arthur said. "He asked Harry to put down the instructions as Professor Snape is away for the morning. They'll consult on the idea when he's back at the castle."

Molly shouted at Percy, "Go get him a quill and parchment, Percy!"

The older boy jumped as though he had been hit with a lightning bolt, and flew back up the stairs. He returned with it in a moment, and Harry jotted down a list of ingredients, some notes, and instructions in his cleanest handwriting. Everyone else watched, looks of wonder on their faces.

"But these are really simple steps," Percy said, looking over his shoulder. "Are you sure this will do it?"

"No," Harry said, growing red. "I want Professor Snape to look at it, but if it can help them, then we have to try!"

Flames erupted green from the fireplace and Dumbledore emerged wearing an oversized Father Christmas hat and a bright-red cape over his . He smiled at them all. "I am sorry to intrude again in your holiday," Dumbledore apologised, attracting everyone's attention away from Harry.

"Not at all, Albus," Arthur said. "This could be the best interruption we could have had."

"Thank you, Arthur," the Headmaster said. "Harry, I understand you have some directions for Professor Snape?"

"I have an idea for a potion," Harry said, walking between the others to hand the Headmaster his parchment. "I hope it does what I think it could."

"So do we all, Harry," the Headmaster said, analysing the page. "Though, perhaps a sprig of parsley, don't you think? After step seven, I should say."

Harry scrunched his face up, concentrating. "I'm not sure I follow, sir?" he asked, giving up.

"Oh ho," Dumbledore said, smiling. "I have picked up a trick or two, if I do say so. I will see what Severus makes of it. Interesting, I must say."

"Th-thank you, sir," Harry said.

"I'll leave you all to your morning breakfast," Dumbledore said, turning to the fireplace. He stopped, touching his forehead, saying, "Oh, one thing." Turning back around, he pulled a bag from his cloak, and pulled out a tray of meat pies and various sweets. "These are compliments of the house elves. I think they might appreciate having one of their own back, as well."

With that, he left, leaving the rest of the room frazzled. Hermione suddenly felt very tired again, but accepted the food as everyone settled back down. She ate somewhat listlessly, her thoughts far away. Around her, only George seemed bright and buoyant, fitting with the season. Everyone else was a little quieter than usual, looking worried and hopeful at the same time.

"Maybe we should go play some Quidditch," Harry suggested, looking around at the group as they finished eating.

The boys looked interested and followed Harry out, but Hermione sat there a moment, poised between sitting there with the adults and watching the boys fly around on those dangerous sticks of death and destruction. She honestly wasn't sure what she would rather do. After all the events of the last day, Hermione wanted a bit of quiet, but quiet, right now, while waiting to see if Professor Snape could cure the petrified people, that would drive her mad.

After a moment, Hermione stood up, and went to the living room. She had set Harry's Charms book on the table before going back to sleep, and it was buried now under a tangle of her blanket that had fallen off when she arose. Extracting the book from the blanket folds, she carried it swiftly out of the house and up to the edge of the trees. She set her back to a tree and began to read, glancing up with a smile when she saw the boys flying about, enjoying themselves.

Hermione glanced back, every so often, to the Burrow. It looked quiet, unmoving, but Hermione wondered if a little, lonely girl a few floors up was sitting at her window watching them play. Not so long ago, she had been out there with them, playing and showing up the rest of her family. That was yesterday, in fact. The thought made Hermione sad, and she looked up at the boys with a sadder expression which she hoped would not be visible from the air. Of all the people who could have used a distraction, Ginny Weasley should have been foremost.

The games they played appeared fairly disorganised, and it felt like every time Hermione looked up they had changed up the teams. She didn't particularly mind as it would be impossible for them to expect her to remember who won this time. Hermione chuckled. They all took this so seriously. 'Still, they do have fun up there,' she thought. 'Harry looks at home when he's in the air, and he is really, really good at flying.'

Shaking her head, the girl buried her head in her book again, and read more about the Switching Charms in the late morning sun. It was unseasonably warm that morning. The storms of the past few days must have gone far away, and the sunlight beat upon her face with a pleasant, almost repetitive pattern. She sighed, feeling her head sinking and not bothering to try to prevent it.

When Hermione awoke, she immediately knew that a few hours had passed. The sun had dimmed, passing into a newly formed bundle of clouds to the west, and the sounds of Quidditch had died down about her. Looking about in surprised, she saw that the group had dispersed and gone.

Blushing, she rose, picking up her fallen book, and massaging the painful sore patch along her back where the tree had dug against it. That's when she saw them.

"Hello, sleepy-head," George said, tossing a card into a pile between them. "Seven of dragons. Read it and weep."

"Ah, man," Harry said, as George grabbed all the cards. He looked up, saw Hermione standing, and said, "Oh, welcome back. You were out, and we didn't want to disturb you."

"Any news?" she asked.

"Nothing yet," George said.

"But we expect some soon, if Snape can do it," Harry said.

"How did the game go?" she asked.

"Good," Harry said, "until…"

"Until, what?" she asked.

"Percy kinda…sorta…" Harry began.

"He fell asleep flying," George laughed. "I've never seen anything that hilarious before."

"Oh my god, is he okay?" she asked, remembering the pain of her fall.

"Yes," Harry said, quickly. "He was pretty low to the ground when he fell."

"Low?" George asked. "His toes were kicking up gravel. He drifted for a few minutes before he slid to one side.

Hermione chuckled. "I wish I could have seen it," she said. "To bad you don't have replay."

"Replay?" George asked.

"They use it in Muggle sports on television," she said, yawning. "They can show something that happened before again and again to talk about it."

"Interesting," George said. "Maybe we could do something like that with Qui-"

He drifted off as he saw something. Hermione and Harry turned to look, too, and Hermione gasped. The family had emerged from the house, crowding about the entrance. As unusual as that might be, it was not what caught everyone's attention.

George, without another word, rose and ran as hard as he could. Hermione and Harry rose, too, but not with his ferocity. They chased after him, but George got their long ahead of them, nearly tumbling every few steps with his excitement. Three quarters of the way back to the house, George ran full speed into another blur of red, and the hug he and Fred shared was something Hermione knew she would never forget.

The mirror images, the two Unbeatable Beaters, held each other in a most Molly-esque hug, nearly bone-breaking. Fred looked a bit surprised, and Hermione figured he was still so newly awoken that the idea of everyone missing him was still foreign. He watched Harry and Hermione come up, too, though, and his smile was the happiest thing Hermione could remember for a long time.

The three of them held Fred like he might disappear if they let go, and, for all they knew, he might. 'Perhaps,' Hermione's brain thought, 'perhaps this is just another crazy dream while you sleep through the boy's Quidditch match.' It felt too good to be real, but something deep inside began to accept it.

Harry had done it! Hermione held him tighter beside her in that giant group hug, happier than she had been in months. Of all the things that could have happened, and even among all the crazy things that had happened during this break, seeing Fred so alive, so active felt like it had been the absolute last thing that would have happened. But here he was.

If it had been a dream, Hermione felt it would have been an amazing one. All she wanted was to hold on; maybe this moment would never, ever end. Whatever came next, they would always have this moment.