Crouching Muggle Hidden Wizard
"Even if I was banished to the darkest place, my love would never let me be a lonely spirit."
Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon
Hermione's P.O.V.
It's so cold here. Reflected Hermione as the bitter wind nipped and pulled at her skin and clothes. Both Pansy and herself were dressed from head to foot in coats made from Demiguise hair. This was a problem as the material used to make the coats had been originally intended to make invisibility cloaks with. This meant that neither could see the other. They had to instead, keep contact by talking. But, this said the coats were very warm. This was something page 9 of "Fantastic Beast's & Where To Find Them" had not told Hermione and she had had a mind to write to Newt Scamander and tell him, if he had not have been dead already – killed by a Lethifold. What a horrible way to die she thought, if page 25 through to 27 was right.
"Hermione, if my map's right we should be coming up to Gorky once we get through this fog and we're nearly at the end of it." Her companion was right; the magic mist protecting the wizarding village was already beginning to subside. In several minutes they would tumble headfirst on to the ground, as the world would right itself. If any muggle had attempted to walk through the fog, they would have tumbled straight onto the ground, waking the next morning in the nearest muggle hospital to find that they had concussion.
"Three, two, one…." Came a voice from a loudspeaker. " Velcome to Gorkv." Hermione found herself floating, feather-light to the ground, landing rather ungracefully, stumbling then falling flat on the ground. Much to her surprise Pansy had done exactly the same and was now sitting on the ground, looking rather flustered and embarrassed, removing her Demiguise coat so she could be seen. Thinking it wise to do the same Hermione took hers off too.
A young man, with bright red – almost Weasley like, hair was walking towards them. He was stocky and had extremely strong arms. He had a face full of freckles and large blue eyes, not unlike Charlie Weasley had. Also he wore an orange Chudley Cannon quidditch shirt.
"Hello," said the boy with an accent suspiciously like an Ottery-St. Catchpole one "My name's Kevin and I happen to be one of a very small minority of people in the village who speaks any English including my mother and she married an Englishman!"
"Not to be rude or anything but where's you father?" Hermione asked suspiciously for she had only been to Gorky once before and that had been to go to Charlie Weasley's wedding to a Gorky born girl. Now, Hermione suspected, before her stood Charlie's son.
"He's at a Dragon Handling and Technique Improving conference in Sweden." Replied the boy with a tone of impatience in his voice.
"Is his name Charlie Weasley?" she inquired.
"Uh, yeah… How do you know dad?" Not waiting to answer, Hermione hugged him and kissed him like he was one of her own children, although he was about 19 and didn't want someone he had met before, never mind a complete stranger hugging him.
"Oh, gosh. I'm Hermione. I knew all your uncles and your aunt at school (except Bill). I was you're Uncle Ron's best friend at school." Exclaimed Hermione all in one breath.
"Wow! You're Hermione? Wow! Dad's told us all about you. You and your friend will have to come with me and meet the rest of the brood." The boy had, in a matter of seconds, become just as excited as she was, if that were possible.
Kevin started to lead the way up the steep and winding path towards the heart of the village and Hermione and Pansy followed.
"Pansy are you all right?" The sight of her friend's blue, almost purple face and her violently shivering body suddenly quashed Hermione's ecstasy and joy. "Kevin, KEVIN! HELP ME!" Hermione screamed as Pansy suddenly crashed to the floor. Kevin turned around and seeing what had happened ran back to help. He took off his coat and wrapped around her blue-purple body. Kevin scooped her into his arms and ran up the steep and winding street to a large house with several floors, Hermione only a few feet behind him. They knocked on the door, which was opened by a hassled looking woman several years Hermione's senior. She took one look at Pansy lying unconscious in Kevin and started screaming orders in Russian. These were mainly directed at her children who lined the top of the stairs, curious to see what was going on.
"My mother." Kevin explained simply.
Hermione took a second look and indeed she did bear resemblance of the twenty-one-year-old bride who had clung on to Charlie Weasley's arm so desperately all those many years before. Kevin motioned for her to enter into the house; he followed as far as the staircase, which he climbed, holds the comatose woman in his arms. A small girl, no older than eleven walked towards Hermione and taking her hand, the little red headed Weasley child, led her into the kitchen. There Hermione sat at the scrubbed wooden table and was handed a strong cup of tea by the girl.
"We'll take good care of her," Whispered the child. "I promise."
Author's note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed the story so far. You are all such lovely people and hopefully you'll review this part too. If you don't like this story please say why – constructive criticism always helps to improve things – flaming doesn't! (I hope this was long enough for you, HGW). By the way go out and by JKR's new Harry Potter books - about 4/5 of the money goes to charity.
Disclaimer: I own nothing – J. K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter stuff and the Crouching Tiger… is owned by Ang Lee (I presume).