May 28 - June 7, 1998
Hermione spent the following week trying to feel as normal as possible. She read countless books, practiced using her new wand, and watched the chess and quidditch matches between the Weasley family. Although her strength began to return, it was a slow process and she still felt tired and ill most of the time.
The multitude of potions prescribed by Healer Marquez certainly helped, and Ron and Mrs. Weasley took especially good care of her, so she still found many reasons to be grateful. Despite Hermione's initial fear that her condition would be a burden, Mrs. Weasley seemed glad to have a distraction and Ron didn't seem bothered by it at all.
By the next weekend, she had read 12 books - she was forever thankful that her vision returned to normal - and had slept more than she could ever remember sleeping in the span of seven days. She credited her wonderful, nightmare-free sleep to Ron often joining her in Ginny's room when she went to bed early or curling up beside her on the couch while she napped. Nobody commented on his new displays of affection, but Hermione was sure they all noticed it. Ginny also began joining Harry in his room more and more, and Hermione wondered how long these arrangements would last before Mrs. Weasley set stricter boundaries for all the young adults in the Burrow. For the time being, they enjoyed their freedom.
…
June 8, 1998
Hermione looked up from her book when she heard Harry and Ron apparate back to the Burrow after their meeting with Blair Wilson at the Ministry. Hermione was sitting on the porch and they smiled while approaching her, seeming pleased to see her outside again.
"How'd it go?" Hermione asked.
"Pretty well, I suppose," Ron said as he sat down on the swing next to her. Harry nodded.
They spent the next few minutes discussing Blair's trial strategy and all the horrific evidence related to the Malfoys. Hermione explained a lot of the legalities and logistics that were being considered, and even referenced her new law book a few times, which made Ron glow with pride.
"Blair asked about you…we told her that you've been ill," Harry said.
"She seems pretty confident that your condition will strengthen your testimony," Ron added. "I guess that's one positive aspect to everything that's been going on."
"Yeah, that's the only positive thing," Hermione remarked dryly.
Ron gave a sympathetic smile and then offered to bring out lunch for them. Once he entered the house, Harry moved next to Hermione on the swing. He tentatively pulled an envelope out of his pocket.
"How're you doing? For real."
"I'm okay, Harry. Just a bit tired, I guess. Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Harry said quickly. "I just wanted to make sure you're feeling well enough for what I'm about to give you."
Hermione gave him a curious look and Harry handed her the envelope. She fumbled with it for a few moments before her tremoring hands extracted its contents. She was soon holding two plane tickets from London to Sydney. The departure date was in one week.
"Harry, you didn't need to do this…these must've been so expensive on such short notice - "
He cut her off: "Hermione, you deserve to go find your parents. This is the least I can do to thank you for everything you've done for me. I talked to Kingsley and he said it could be a while before international portkeys are available, and you shouldn't have to wait. It was no trouble, I promise."
Hermione responded by pulling him into a tight hug. "Thank you so much," she whispered.
"Just make sure Ron doesn't embarrass himself in the airport or on the plane."
Ron stepped onto the porch, levitating three plates of food beside him. He seemed to sense Hermione's excitement.
"What did I miss?"
Hermione handed Ron the plane tickets and a mix of terror and gratification crossed his face.
They were going to Australia.
…
June 14, 1998
Hermione came to the unfortunate realization that bringing her parents home would require much more planning and luck than she originally anticipated. Between re-packing all of her things, arranging her parents' transportation back to London, and practicing the counter-charm to reverse their memory alterations, Hermione barely had time to dwell over her excitement of seeing them again…let alone prepare what she would say when she did.
"You will be able to locate your parents once we arrive in Australia, won't you?" Ron asked, disrupting their peaceful packing session in his bedroom; they were using muggle luggage to avoid raising suspicion in the airport.
"I signed a lease on Wendall and Monica's behalf for an apartment in Sydney last summer, so I have their address. As long as they're still living there, they should be easy enough to find."
Hermione refused to consider any alternative. She dedicated her entire previous summer to ensuring that her parents would remain safe while she went on the horcrux hunt. But she also needed them to be locatable when she was ready to reverse the memory charm. It was a delicate balance that resulted in much anxiety at the time. Now she just had to trust that everything went according to plan.
Earlier this day, Hermione had taken a trip to the apothecary at St. Mungo's to refill her prescription potions; she truly had no idea when they would return from Australia, and she didn't want to run out. After packing these into her suitcase, she zipped it shut and crossed "pack for Australia" off her to-do list. Ron finished a few minutes later, and they levitated their bags downstairs in preparation for their early departure the following morning.
"What's next?" Ron reviewed the tasks on Hermione's to-do list.
"I want to check on my parents' house."
"Absolutely not, Hermione…it's way too dangerous! Your parents can stay here when we bring them back to England. We have no idea if Death Eaters have been to their house or even Voldemort himself - "
"I'm not an idiot, Ron. Obviously I secured the house with a Fidelius Charm once I sent my parents away. I'm the Secret Keeper and I haven't disclosed the location to anyone."
"You cast a Fidelius Charm? You know how to do that?"
Hermione blushed and quickly explained: "I would've used it this year while we were on the run, but it can't be done quickly and we never had time to cast it properly. But, yeah, I read about it last summer and figured it out."
"Merlin, Hermione, you're incredible."
"So does this mean we can go? I'm sure the house is secure, but if it's not for some reason, it's better to figure that out now rather than later," Hermione reasoned.
Ron nodded. "Okay, yeah."
…
Hermione apparated with Ron to a large English oak tree behind the Milton Road Library in Cambridge.
She inhaled deeply. It had been almost a year since she stood on the streets of her hometown, and even longer since she visited this small aging library. She used to walk here with her father each Saturday to pick out new books. It was the highlight of her life back then.
Hermione led Ron onto the sidewalk.
"The house is about a ten minute walk from here," she said. "This seemed to be the safest apparition point because the library is closed on Sundays."
Ron agreed with her, and they began the short walk that Hermione knew by heart. They crossed Milton Road, passed through Chesterton Hall Crescent, turned left onto Charleston Road, and turned right onto De Freville Avenue.
"This is it," Hermione announced. "60 De Freville Avenue, Cambridge. Can you see it?"
Once Hermione said the address, she saw Ron's eyes focus on the semi-detached brick house before them. The bushes in the front were severely overgrown, but the short stone path to the door was clear, and Hermione approached the house with her wand drawn. She completed a series of complicated spells to unlock the door, and entered cautiously with Ron following her.
"Homenum revelio," Ron cast from behind her.
After using an arsenal of detective spells, Hermione and Ron seemed to be alone and in no danger of lingering traps or curses, so Hermione began making her way through the ground floor while Ron checked the first and second floors.
Everything was how she left it. When she had modified her parents' memories, she removed all items and photographs traced to her and stored them in her bedroom, which she magically sealed off from the rest of the house. This left most rooms appearing bland and generic, but Hermione was grateful that the house and furniture remained perfectly in-tact over the past year.
After carefully assessing the house for over an hour, Hermione finally cast the counter-charm to make her bedroom appear once again. She waved her wand a few more times and a swarm of items came rushing out of the door frame and settled in various places around the house. She smiled as the family portraits fixed themselves back into place on the wall; now everything inside was truly back to normal.
"Your bedroom is a lot cleaner than mine," Ron joked as they entered the room.
"You're forgetting that almost all of my belongings are in this bag right now," Hermione replied, pulling out her beaded purse. "I can't wait to unpack it."
Ron offered to stay with her if she wanted to start putting things away, but Hermione decided to wait until her parents returned. Instead, she pulled out a singular photograph that she had taken with the Weasley family camera a few weeks prior. Her hand trembled clumsily as she pinned it to the cork board, and Ron steadied and fastened the tack for her.
His eyes glanced over the image and his face softened. It was a photo of him on his broom, facing Harry far in the distance, running a hand through his hair, and laughing at a forgotten joke. The sun was setting and the orchard beside the Burrow looked golden and remarkable. By the looks of this photo, nobody would know that they just fought in a war and were deep in grief and trauma.
"It's my new favorite picture," Hermione said quietly. "It deserves a spot in my room."
"I'm honored."
Ron met her eyes and they kissed with passion and joy. Hermione was silently grateful for the privacy and quiet; they could never share such intimacy at the Burrow without fear of being interrupted. And she recognized, deep down, that spending each day together would not be possible for much longer. As much as it pained her, she planned to move back in with her parents once they returned, and who knew how long it would be until her and Ron were ready to live together once again?
"I'm not ready to go back yet," Ron sighed eventually. Hermione knew he had come to the same realization: their relationship, in a sense, was on borrowed time.
"Do you want to see the river? I told Harry we'd be back by nightfall, so we still have some time."
"Yeah, of course." Ron's face lit up once again.
After magically locking up the house and ensuring the wards were still in place, they began another short walk through the surrounding streets and across the footbridge to Midsummer Common. Like almost everything in Cambridge, Hermione held very distinct memories of spending the summer evenings of her childhood here. But it had been years since then. How was it possible that so much time had passed?
"Tell me about them."
Hermione turned to face Ron as they sat down against a tree. "Who?"
"Your parents. You never talk about them, and I've only met them once. And that was six years ago."
Hermione had deliberately kept the details of her upbringing private for obvious reasons while she was at Hogwarts, but she hadn't realized how much she kept from Ron too. Even if her muggle parents would appear foreign to almost any other witch or wizard, she knew Ron would accept them. She felt ashamed for how easily she forgot about her own parents when she was immersed in the magical world.
"Well, they both grew up in London and went to King's College to study dentistry, and that's where they met. We moved from London to Cambridge when I was five, and my parents started their own practice. They've lived here ever since. My dad was part of the city's rowing club, and he usually had regattas on Saturdays, which my mum and I would go and watch. They both love reading, and they would have competitions to see who could finish a certain book faster. My mum always won, but I think that's because my dad read most of the books out loud to me so I could be included. I don't know…they're pretty typical muggles. Most of their lives revolved around their career and raising me, and that kept them happy."
"How did they react to you being a witch?"
"Pretty well, actually. They had a hard time understanding the logistics at first, but they came around. I never showed them much magic at home, besides what I did with wild magic as a child, because I didn't want them to see me differently. But now, of course, all of that is out the window…they'll probably never trust me with magic again."
This had been an increasing concern over the past few days, and Hermione expected a lot of resentment from her parents once they found out what she did. She honestly wasn't sure if they would ever forgive her.
"They will," Ron said gently. "How could anyone not trust you with magic? You're remarkable. How many times did you help save the wizarding world?"
"Not any more than you," Hermione scoffed.
Ron smiled again and pulled Hermione closer to his body. She rested her head against his chest and they sat quietly, watching the small boats passing by. The sun eventually began to set and Hermione's body started trembling again, so after one more glance across the river back to her parents' house, she took Ron's hand and apparated them back to the Burrow for one final night.