DISCLAIMER. The obvious. I do not own anything. Thanks to Ms Rowling for giving us such wonderful stories, even if I don't agree with her recent statements.

Here are my first FAQ-style Author-notes

1. Romance? Really?

I get it, it kind of scares me too. The thing is that I want to work on other skills of mine to be able to pull a much complete story, and I started looking into Romance stories. The logical step was to attempt to write one without making a total fool of myself.

2. So, this is an AU for a story someone else wrote?

Yeah, I wasn't going to start on a fresh Romance from the ground up. To be honest though, it kind of happened. I really liked the premise of this fic I was reading and couldn't stop myself from writing this. Then I checked with the author about it, and she didn't find the idea bad at all. At least that's what she says, maybe she's being polite.

3. So what's this 'Crushed' story?

A romance that might have masochistic levels of angst for those who love a quick arrival at the lovey-dopey parts of a story. (Sidenote on the choice of adjective. The story is not BDSM and AFAIK it has no hidden subtext on it either). It was written by romioneB, a dedicated author with all kind of passionate drives that make her pull the right strings on stories. If you haven't read it, you shouldn't even be here. Honestly, if you haven't done so, move your ass out of here and go do so if you want to go through this. It'll be hard to follow at first without doing so and that's why I skipped the summary. I will refuse to explain it to reviewers who have not read it. If you already read it, I have to say that I am by no means trying to compete with that story as this is mostly me trying to practice some form of Romance, and it's thanks to romioneB that this is here anyway. So thanks to her and hope I don't let people her readers down here.

4. So romioneB knows you're doing this?

She beta'd. Thanks for that. Though if you see any grammar or plot weirdness, she's not to blame. It's my writing and my errors in the first place. I'm pretty light on corrections, so if you spot some error that I can fix, I'll be glad of knowing about them. Maybe I can fix it without alienating readers.

5. Cool, so this is has a similar feel and plot to Crushed.

Sort of? I tried to approach it thinking about what would be the realistic approach and feelings Hermione would get in a situation like this. And I borrowed the setting, the fabulous premise and certainly key OCs from romioneB. However, I'm still me, so even if this is labelled Romance/Angst, don't be surprised if I let some Action thing around there.

6. T rating, though?

I know. A T rated spinoff to a romioneB story sounds unconventional. But I am not going to run when I'm just starting to walk. I won't cave to romioneB's pressure of putting smut here.

7. And is it a long story?

Shorter than some of my other stories, I hope. If I can wrap this in less than 15 chaps, that would be nice.

8. An you know where you're going with this?

I have a main conflict well-thought-out. But, unlike my other stories, I don't have an outline hard-set in stone beyond the first 4 or 5 chaps. So we'll find out if that's a good thing.

9. And updates?

Not promising. Chap 2 will be up very very soon, as it's mostly done. Next... well, I have a few other things going on competing for attention.

10. You son of a bitch, I'm in. Where's my summary?

I got lazy, I won't spend time building a nice sounding one, but here is the premise in rhetorical questions (so you don't miss the summary): "What if things happened differently while Hermione was lost those five years? What if something changed and Hermione finds a different world from the Crushed one? What if that first anniversary of the Battle went on in a different way?"

11. Anything else?

Nope. You're free to go. Enjoy.

Hermione went over her belongings for the umpteenth time that morning. It was strange how they could all fit into a single drawer now, one without an extension charm at that. They consisted of a toothbrush, a book, and five changes of clothes that Ginny had been swift in getting for her. Professor McGonagall had provided the book, as she had seen Hermione growing bored while waiting for the healers to pronounce her healthy. It was an updated copy of Hogwarts: A History, containing the full description of the Second Wizarding War. Hermione knew almost all about the war already, but she was keen to read how it was all put on page.

With a gentle pass of her fingers, Hermione caressed the spine of the book. Nothing symbolized her life at Hogwarts like that book did, and — freakishly enough — its pages ended five years ago as well.

Five years.

Hermione must have gone over it dozens of times by now, trying to understand how this could possibly have happened to her. The most likely explanation was the one she had discussed with Harry, the spells being combined. The theory was an answer as good as they were likely to get, but knowing that didn't vanish her anxiety and heartache.

Hermione sighed, looking to distract herself in the room around her, which was lovely by all means. The wallpaper was cream-coloured, with small details of the same burgundy tone as the one on the bed clothing. It was bright, and the chocolate brown furniture made a perfect match in it. There were even a couple of portraits from her time at Hogwarts that her friends had surely put in there to make her feel at home. Unbelievable that this had been at some point the same Grimmauld Place from her memories.

It seemed that everything had indeed changed. Everything but her.

Whatever distraction she had hoped for, it was clearly not going to be provided by that room. Much less when it had been unnervingly quiet since Harry had knocked to rush a goodbye from the other side of the door, just a moment before leaving for work. He was an Auror now. He had a job.

Hermione sat heavily on the bed as she glanced at her book. The final duel against Voldemort was there, every detail of Harry defeating the evilest wizard of all time. It had been the first thing she had read, but no matter how many times she did it, the whole thing still felt like part of a fantasy.

"They fancy pretty words, those writers," Harry had said to her, halfway between laughter and annoyance. "You know how these things are. They always look more grand on paper."

Hermione guessed he was right, but she had an odd time trying to reconcile the image of her friend with the hero glorified in the book. At least in the conversations she had had with him, Harry still felt like the same one she remembered, sans a few minor differences.

It was no small feat though, what Harry had done. What they had done. Hermione and Ron were exalted in the book as well. They had completed the mission to the very end, and the world was safer because of it. A much better place than she could have ever hoped for before she woke up at Hogwarts… not two days ago.

Hermione felt her chest getting tighter and almost jumped away from the bed, unable to stand the stillness of it a second longer. She had been still for too long already. Hermione paced the room back and forth without a real goal though, unable to find her place.

She had been in the nothingness before they found her at Hogwarts. For five years. It was a challenge to deal with that fact alone, not to mention discovering that everything else had moved on without her during that time.

Everyone has moved on, she thought as she went to pick up one of the pictures.

Harry was there, but the boy smiling at the side of Hermione's younger self looked hardly the same as the present one. He was married to Ginny now. As much as she was happy for them, Hermione couldn't stop feeling as if she had missed so much that she now might not fit with her friends anymore.

Her parents were a different matter. They were still in Australia as far as Harry knew. Without her, they had thought it would be for the best to let them live their lives blissfully ignorant that Hermione had ever existed. She would need to do something about that.

Merlin, they're going to hate what I did...

Hermione felt adrift. If her friends had their own lives without her now, and her parents didn't forgive her, who would she have left? She didn't know what would happen with the school year she had pending, or her NEWTs. Or what had happened to Neville, Luna and the rest of the people she cared about...

Ron. I still haven't seen Ron, she thought, biting her lip.

Hermione's hand moved tenderly to the side of the picture where Ron was grinning. The last time she saw him, Ron had a terrified look on his face, watching what he had thought to be her death. It tore her heart apart just to imagine what he must have gone through these past five years. She wanted nothing more than to see him now, to hold him, to know if he still thought about their one and only kiss that they had shared.

It had been five years.. Was that kiss still important to him? Had he moved on? She needed to find out.

To her bad luck though, she had to wait for all of that. Ron was supposedly out of the country, Harry had said so every time that she had tried to ask about him. He had also assured her that Ron was doing well, and that he would topple over with joy once he saw her. To be honest though, that didn't ease Hermione's mind, not entirely. Why hadn't Harry and Ginny told her more about that trip? By the way they talked of things, Hermione couldn't help feeling as if there was something that they weren't telling her.

Hermione was well aware of the possibilities, she wasn't daft. Five years was a long time, and so much could have changed. However, Hermione had been too much of a coward to ask all of the important questions to Harry.

Such a Gryffindor, Hermione thought of herself as she brushed a tear away and set the picture back on the nightstand.

There wasn't much that she could do in the bedroom. The four-poster bed in the middle was perfectly made, as if no one had slept in it at all. Hermione had straightened it the muggle way, redoing it a few times until she got it just right. It wasn't only that she appreciated the time to think, but she wanted to use Bellatrix's wand as little as possible. Harry had promised that they would get a new wand for her once the public knew about her miraculous return and they could go to Diagon Alley, and Hermione couldn't wait. Getting a wand whose very touch wasn't hideous was a priority to her.

Hermione picked her clothes and headed to the loo, which was unexpectedly bright as well. It was shiny, all surrounded by cream-coloured tiles with little golden engravings. The tub looked welcoming, but she was hungry and she had taken a long time to go down already. Ginny might start worrying.

In a hurry, Hermione took off her clothes and turned the shower head instead, deciding to be quick about it. The water was hot and soothing as it slid down her, taking her mind away from things for a few precious moments.

Soon it was over, and Hermione stepped away from the steaming shower. She grabbed a large towel, not even considering using that wand to dry herself off. Then, as she turned to the mirror wrapped only in the white towel, something else came to her. Her hair was wet and as far from its regular bushy self as it could get, drops of water were sliding down her bare skin as if playing on the edges of her still-fresh scars, the signs of battle still evident. Her face and body hadn't aged one day since then and she found that unsettling.

Harry had looked unmistakably older, taller and wider. He even had a subtle air of confidence to him that Hermione wasn't familiar with. Even Ginny was noticeably older than her now. How would Ron look? The thought accelerated her heartbeat for some reason, and saw her chest moving slowly with every breath in the mirror.

What if their relation couldn't be the same she had hoped for? After all, the five-year difference could have changed things too much. Ron could be a different person now. What if he didn't like her anymore? What if he saw her as some teenage girl and preferred to find someone closer to his age? What if he already had a girlfriend? Someone he loved…?

"Blimey! Catch a breath there," Ron's voice echoed in her head. "You're barmy, you know that, don't you? You're the only one for me. I love you, Hermione."

Hermione smiled and felt her skin getting warmer than it had been when she was under the hot water but that joyful moment soon faded. That wasn't the real Ron, just some wishful thinking of hers that might be too far away from the actual truth now. By Merlin's sake, it might have been far away from the truth back then. They never had the chance to talk about the kiss before everything happened. Maybe Ron had fancied her, but didn't love her as she was certain she loved him.

After getting dressed, Hermione went downstairs. She tried to rely on the facts. If Ron didn't feel anything for her, Harry wouldn't have made such a fuss about him toppling over once he knew she was alive. He would have warned her, to make things less painful. Ron had to feel something for her. Otherwise… otherwise Hermione didn't know what she was going to do.

o0o0o

Hermione stood by the kitchen door, silently taking in the scene before her. Like the rest of the house, the kitchen didn't look anything like it's former self. It had vivid decorations, moving pictures all over the walls, and a peculiar taste in matching it's colours as well. Some drawers were bright red, others were cream-coloured wood. Hermione noticed the odd combination between wizarding elements and muggle appliances with amusement. There was a flying bowl whisking eggs by itself, and a coffee maker, and a fridge with moving pictures being held by colourful magnets. The Blacks of old would undoubtedly have a heart attack at the image.

Ginny was by the stove, her back to the entrance and focusing on cooking something that surprisingly enough didn't smell burnt at all.

"Good morning. Need help?" she asked.

"Hermione! Oh, no, almost ready with all this nonsense. Take a seat, we'll catch up over breakfast," Ginny said, turning around with a wide smile she could barely contain, "Have a good night's sleep?"

"Honestly? I had some trouble falling asleep with all that's been going on," she said as she sat down. There was no point in lying.

"Oh, yes, of course," her smile became weaker.

Summer wasn't that far away, so the morning had dawned quite comfortably. Hermione had decided on simple trousers and a light jumper, looking just as her old self. Her hair was still damp, but if Ginny found it odd that she hadn't dried it up with magic, she didn't say so.

On the other hand, Ginny had changed quite a bit. She was still a tad shorter than Hermione, but had grown into quite a stunning woman regardless. Even in her casual clothes and ponytail, Ginny looked radiant and much curvier than her. Looking at her made Hermione feel like a teenager.

"I was way more comfortable here than at Hogwarts' Hospital Wing though. It's brilliant, what you have done with the house."

Ginny beamed, "You like it? That's great, we love it this way. It's very cosy, don't you think? I told Harry before the wedding that if he wanted us to live here he would need to put his arse to work and take all the gloom away."

"You can be quite persuasive, it seems."

"Oh, you have no idea," Ginny said with a mischievous grin. "I took pity on him at the end and helped with the cleaning. It was quite a fun experience."

"You didn't think it was fun when your mother put us to clean the first time."

"Trust me. We had fun this time. Plenty," the woman said, winking.

Hermione blushed at what Ginny was implying. It made her feel even more like a little girl.

"Harry wanted to stay, but you know how it is. He swore he wanted to take a few days to get you all settled, but there was this important thing he just couldn't leave without solving. The usual rubbish," Ginny said, then lost her smile briefly, "Oh, I guess you don't know how it is. But it shouldn't be hard to imagine. You do know Harry, he's passionate about keeping people safe and his job gives him that. Auror or not, he's the same person, trust me. We all are."

Hermione pressed her lips together and nodded. That's all she wanted, for everyone to be just the same as she remembered. However, Hermione couldn't ignore that they had other worries that she couldn't relate to that easily, like taking care of a house… or jobs… or those other things Ginny had implied.

She really wished her friends hadn't grown so much in her absence.

"So… you can cook now?" Hermione changed the topic to avoid Ginny from noticing her uneasiness.

Ginny didn't seem to notice anything off with her, and genuinely laughed at that. "I probably won't set the house on fire, if that's what you're asking. I'm not going to fool you, I can handle breakfast but usually go for pre-made stuff when I have to deal with dinner."

It didn't take long for them to be joyfully eating breakfast at the table. The conversation showed Hermione that maybe she was getting too worried for nothing. Ginny was truly her old self, still blunt and quick to throw witty remarks, but quite understanding as well. That was when she shocked Hermione with the revelation that she played for a professional Quidditch team.

"That's… that's brilliant Ginny! I don't know what to say. I'm so happy for you!"

"I'll get you a seat to my next game. I don't care that you don't like Quidditch, you'll go through the whole damn thing once you see what front seats are all about."

"If I must," Hermione said, with a fake huff.

"Oh, you certainly must."

Quidditch was tough to talk about. The whole time Hermione kept thinking of Ron. Her heart kept aching for him, kept pushing for a way to find out where he was. A couple of times she thought to ask Ginny about him, but she refrained, choosing instead to focus on Ginny's career.

It seemed like Ginny was truly living the life of a professional athlete, with admirers and her name frequently being mentioned in the Daily Prophet. She appeared to have an intense training schedule as well, though that didn't seem to have dissuaded her from taking the day off.

"You really didn't have to stay here for me, I would've managed just fine," Hermione told her, even though she didn't quite mean it. She wouldn't have starved for sure, but talking to Ginny certainly helped with trying to get used to this new reality.

"Oh, nonsense! I wouldn't have missed seeing you back for the world," she answered warmly.

"Thanks. I really appreciate it. It's good having someone to talk to after all of this," Hermione confessed, but still, she didn't want to be a bother or mess with Ginny's plans, "I imagine you'll go tomorrow though."

"Only if you think you'll be alright. I could take you to Mum if you want. That way you wouldn't have to stay here alone and bore yourself senseless."

"I want to stay here, if you don't mind. I have things to plan, like how to bring my parents back, and there's a book I have to finish as well."

It was true, however, that Hermione also wanted to avoid getting overwhelmed by a pack of Weasleys at the moment, something that was likely to happen if she went to the Burrow.

"You can stay for as long as you want," Ginny let her know with a smile.

A comfortable silence followed. Hermione took a slow sip from her tea, thinking of what to ask next. She was just pondering how to get news about Ron without questioning her directly, when something by her legs caught her off guard.

"Is that—?" Hermione asked, pulling her seat back at once so she could look down.

It was.

"Crookshanks!"

At once Hermione lifted the old orange cat from the floor, hugging him tightly against her body. He was definitely older, and it was almost a small miracle that he still lived, but Hermione didn't care. All that was important to her was that the cat was there. That he was something familiar. That there was something left of her when she had been gone.

After her initial reaction, Hermione let the old cat breathe. Crookshanks looked surprised, but recognized her right away, purring and sitting onto her lap without hesitation. As if she had just been away for a moment.

Ginny looked beyond joy. "He missed you."

"Oh thank you. Thank you so much. You don't know how much this means to me, that you watched over him all of this time."

"Me? That would have been something... No, Crookshanks doesn't live here. Harry and I are just babysitting," Ginny said, then sipped at her tea with a playful smile.

"You didn't? Then who—?"

"Ron couldn't take him on his trip, so he convinced us to look after him for a week or two."

"Ron? Ron has had him this whole time?!" Hermione asked, utterly shocked. "But… but he hates him!"

Ginny shrugged, "It beats me too. They're actually quite fond of one another. They made each other good company after, well, you know."

Never in a thousand years would Hermione have imagined that Ron could get close to Crookshanks. Had he missed her that much? Had he been holding Crookshanks as a last memory of her when he slept at night. The thought was too much for her.

"Where is he, Ginny?" she asked pointedly, unable to hold the question any longer. Damn the subtleness.

Ginny sighed, "We're not lying. He's really out of the country. Harry is trying to reach him."

"But, what I— Is he still— Would I still be important to him?"

The question had been asked in the most serious of ways, and Hermione dreaded a bad answer. However, Ginny let out an honest laugh at that. "Trust me. If he knew, he would be here already. He would have raced here as if he had a bludger stuck in his arse, I reckon."

Hermione didn't comment on that, or even smile at Ginny's choice of words, preferring instead to silently process those words. Ron truly cared about her. He must.

"What happened? How was it? After..."

The look that Ginny gave her was confusing. Hermione couldn't tell what was going through her friend's thoughts, but it didn't look like the memories were pleasant, "What do you want me to tell you, Hermione? That it was bad? Because it certainly was. Many people died. We still couldn't believe about Fred, and then the next thing we knew, Ron was screaming, and you were gone too. We were hurting, all of us. Ron had it especially bad. Some people were celebrating, but it really was a nightmare. Just finding out all of the names… Going to the funerals… Merlin, so many funerals…"

The names. Hermione knew them. Some of them she had learned before being stuck in that blasted nothingness. Others, she had found about while reading through her new book.

Hermione felt as if she had opened an old wound in Ginny as well, one that was never going to fully go away. "I'm sorry, Ginny. About Fred. It must have been awful, and I never got to tell you—" she started fighting the knot that was forming in her throat.

"I know, don't worry. It's been a long time, so we have learned to cope. We had to," she said, rubbing her eyes. "All of this... I know it's way fresher to you than it is to me."

Hermione nodded. The pain was still very present. She could still feel the anguish of that dreadful day. She was still grieving Fred, and Remus, and Tonks...

Ginny patted her hand after a while, pulling her out of her thoughts. "It'll be alright, you'll see. You'll find your place in no time."

A warm smile was Hermione's answer. That's what she wanted. To find her place. That there was still a place for her.

Ginny let go of her hand and leaned back in her chair, letting out a troubled sigh. "About Ron, I can tell you that he missed you more than anything. When you were gone— That was when we finally realized how much you meant to him," Ginny said, sadly before she gave Hermione a weak smile and composed herself. "He's better now, but I can't really tell you much. Harry says it should be him to answer your questions, and I reckon he's right. Annoying as it is."

A slow nod was Hermione's answer. They were right, she should wait to hear Ron talk. It was going to feel excruciatingly long, but if he waited five years, she could wait a few days more.