WITH A DASH OF LEMON JUICE

By Madame Plot Bunnie

   Hermione Granger slowly opened her eyes, gingerly placing her hands on her pounding head.

"Oh, my…what did I drink last night?" she muttered to herself. Warily, the twenty-one year old witch sat up from her sprawled position on the bed. She remembered going to a bar for a drink, but what or how many remained a mystery. She had the mother of all hangovers.

   Hermione sighed and slowly made the way into her the bathroom of her tiny London flat. At the sight of her face in the mirror, she nearly let out a shriek of surprise.

   Her hair, curly and brown, was now frizzy and tangled. Mascara was smudged in faint gray-black streaks down her cheeks. Her brown eyes were bloodshot, but whether it was from the alcohol or the crying, Hermione couldn't tell.

   Hermione glared, whipping out her wand and muttering quick spells for her hair and face. The reason she had been crying was because of a man. And not just any man.

   Ronald Weasley. Her former boyfriend of two years. Her near-fiancé. Or so she had thought, up until last night—when he had dropped the bomb.

   After Harry had defeated Voldemort in their seventh year, everything had changed for the world, wizarding and Muggle alike. No one had to live under constant fear anymore. People became less fearful, more joyous, and more open with each other.  It had been in the victory celebration that Ron's true feelings for Hermione had come out into the open. He had kissed her.

   Hermione had been pleasantly shocked. She had always thought Ron had considered her a friend. She and Ron had agreed to keep their relationship quite until they had settled into their post-Hogwarts life.

    So Ron went off to tour the world with Harry, while Hermione went to the London University of Sorcery and Alchemy, where she still attended. But when Ron had come back from his year away, he and Hermione made it public they were dating. Hermione had been positive she loved Ronald Weasely and was content with the idea of settling down and marrying him.

   Hermione glared at her reflection again. I was happy with Ron, but I guess Ron wasn't happy with me, she thought gloomily. That was why she had gone out to get sloshed last night—because Ron had broken up with her. Unwillingly, her mind flicked back to the previous evening…

**Flashback**

"Hi, Ron!" Hermione greeted cheerfully, throwing the door opened and greeting her redheaded boyfriend with a kiss.

"Er, Mione… we need to talk," Ron said, not quite meeting her gaze. Curious, Hermione let Ron in and followed him into the kitchen. Ron leaned against the table, shifty. Hermione stood opposite him, her hand drumming on the countertop.

"So?" she prompted, crossing her arms over her chest.

Ron took a deep breath and looked up at Hermione with his blue eyes. "Hermione," he said slowly, concentrating on every word, "you know I love you very much, right?" Hermione made no reply. She wanted Ron to say whatever he had to say. Ron continued, making conscious effort to look her in the face. "Well…we've been together three years…and, well, that's a long time, Hermione. And…well—"

   Hermione sighed impatiently. "Ron, will you just say it already?" she cried, exasperated.

"Okay," Ron said. "Mione…there's someone else."

The force that one sentence could have on her was amazing. Immediately, Hermione could feel her throat constricting painfully. Oh my God. "What do you mean, 'there's someone else?'" she asked him in deadly calm tones, to deceive her tears.

Ron once again looked uneasy. "I…I've been seeing someone else, Hermione. Another girl. I-"

"Who?" Hermione asked, her voice shaking with threatening tears now. "Who is it?"

Ron stopped, ears turning pink. "It's Parvati Patil. We work in the same department…at work, you know…and, oh, Hermione, I'm sorry. I really am, just…"

"Oh, shut up," she snapped, brushing away a stray tear. "Just…just get out, dammit! Go!" Ron looked aghast for a moment, but turned to leave. "I really am sorry Hermione," he said at the door, before quietly leaving. Crookshanks hissed at him as he left.

**End Flashback**

Hermione came whirling out of her reverie with a shrill ring of her doorbell. Making sure she looked at least halfway decent, she ran to the door, nearly tripping over the enormous ginger ball that was Crookshanks. 

"Coming!" she called, unlatching the door. It swung open to reveal— "Ginny!" Hermione cried, throwing her arms around her best friend.

Ginny smiled, returning the hug. "Hey, Mione," she said graciously. "How are you?"

Hermione's smile faltered a bit as she broke away from the redhead. "How did—"

"Ron told us," Ginny grimaced, stepping into the apartment. "He came by Godric's Hollow last night, for dinner. Stupid bastard." She grinned apologetically at Hermione. "Well, Mione, you know I'm going to take your side."

Hermione smiled as she led Ginny into the kitchen. "Sorry, Gin, no tea. I've only just awoken…had to find some hangover Potion…"

Ginny stopped. "Hermione Kalonice Granger," Hermione cringed at the full name, "you did not go out and get drunk on account of my brother. Please. Tell me you did not."

   Hermione reddened, busying herself with the kettle. "Guilty as charged," she mumbled. Ginny sighed and sat on a chair. "Hermione," she said slowly, staring at her, "give yourself time. I know you loved Ron, even though he didn't deserve it. But you can't expect to be settled down right away! Look at you! You're not even finished with school yet; only twenty-one!"

"I'll be twenty-two in a month," Hermione reminded her, setting the kettle on the flames. "And it's easy for you to say, Ginny! You're happily married to Harry!"

   Ginny fell silent, contemplating. Secretly, Hermione envied Ginny. Oh, not because she had married Harry Potter. Harry was still one of Hermione's best friends. But Ginny had a wonderful life—a wonderful family, a wonderful husband, a wonderful house. Harry had finally noticed Ginny in their final year (Ginny's sixth). It had taken time, but they fell in love with each other after Voldemort and married less than a year ago.

   "Well, anyway, darling, the reason I dropped by," Ginny said, suddenly businesslike, "is to see if you need any help packing."

Hermione dropped the teacup she was holding. "Oh, Christ, I completely forgot!" she cried. Frantically, she looked at her calendar. It was the 26th of August—the day she left London to begin her term as a student teacher at Hogwarts.

   For that was why Hermione was attending the University—to become a teacher. She was studying Arithmancy, a little Transfiguration, and Potions. She only had one year left at the University, and by law, all students studying to become teachers had to spend at least two semesters student teaching. Her professors at the University had been kind enough to recommend her to Albus Dumbledore, who had gladly offered her a job. She was required to be at the school four days early.

   "Oh my God, Ginny! I forgot! I have to take the Portkey in—" Hermione glanced at the clock—"Two hours!"

Ginny stood up. "That's why I'm here, Hermione. Let's go get you ready."

*~*~*~*~*

An hour and a half later, Hermione, showered and dressed, stood packing her clothes in her trunk, while Ginny stood studying her closet.

   "Hermione," Ginny said, turning to her thoughtfully, "I know we've been through this before, but your wardrobe—"

"Is lacking something," Hermione finished for her, rolling her eyes. "Gin, you've said this every single time you've seen it. I know. But I can't compare to you," she finished, eying the younger witch's attire. Ginny had on Muggle-style jeans and an orange top that complimented her hair. Hermione wore a knee-length black skirt and a white top.

"And anyway, Gin," Hermione continued, reaching out to pet Crookshanks, who had curled up inside the trunk, "I'm going to be at Hogwarts for the next half a year at least. Wearing robes, probably. Plus, who there cares what I look like?"

   Ginny got a mad glint in her eye. "Yeah," said Mrs. Potter slowly, "but just think: what if you go into the village and meet some adorable wizard? Dressed like that?"

   Hermione suppressed the urge to roll her eyes again. "Ginny, come on. I'll be too busy; I'll have tutorials to go through and papers to write and maybe even classes to teach. I won't have time for anybody. I can't even take Crookshanks with me!" she flopped down on the bed. Ginny surveyed her.  She then took out her wand from a pocket and faced the wardrobe.

   "I'm going to fix this," she said defiantly, and began Transfiguring all Hermione's clothes. Hermione watched in horror as a favourite pair of sweatpants she's had since she was 15 be transfigured into a knee-length, strapless red dress.

   "Ginny!" Hermione's hand froze over her ginger cat, which looked amused. Ginny stood back to survey her work. "Good," Ginny said, moving on to the trunk. "But still more work to be done…"

   Ginny rifled through the carefully packed trunk, changing bits and pieces of Hermione's apparel. Ginny's blue eyes began to gleam when she found Hermione's underwear at the bottom of the trunk. A small mischievous grin spread over her face.

   "Oh, Ginny, don't do that—" but Hermione's plea came too late. With one flick of Ginny's wand, all of Hermione's underwear had been changed from plain cotton white, to a variety of colors and sizes and materials.

   Hermione and Ginny stared at each other for a moment from across the bed. "Virginia Scarlett Potter," Hermione breathed. Ginny smirked. "Much better," the redhead said in approval, repacking the underwear (Pink, red, blue, and black, Hermione noted, appalled. Some of it was even made of satin. With lace.) Ginny finished her task and stood, beaming happily, to look at the clock. When she turned back, Hermione was still glowering at her. Ginny grinned apologetically but made no move to change them back.

   My underwear, Hermione thought in horror. She's turned my underwear colored!

*~*~*~*~*

Half an hour later, Hermione arrived with Ginny at the Portkey depot, in a section of Diagon Alley. At Ginny's insistence, Hermione had changed the dull skirt and top to a more summery white skirt and top. Ginny had not let Hermione wear her regular shoes, either; Hermione now had high heels on her feet, albeit low ones.

   Merlin bless those Anti-Aching Spells, Hermione thought, appreciative of her own handiwork. Her trunk floated, bewitched, behind them. Ginny had also taken the liberty of doing Hermione's hair, so that her brown curls were twisted into a low, loose bun on the nape of her neck.

   Finally, they two women reached the depot. Ginny smiled excitedly. "Okay, Mione. Be brave. You have everything?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Gin. Even the underwear." She grinned. "I'll owl you when I tonight, okay? Take care of Crookshanks." Ginny and Harry were keeping Hermione's cat while she was away.

   Ginny reached out to hug her best friend. "You just forget all about Ron, okay, Hermione? There are more fish in the sea." She pulled back. Hermione smiled. "I will. " She had found that out last night, sitting in the bar. She could vaguely remember a dark, handsome stranger sitting with her…

   A sharp voice called. "Granger Portkey, set for Scotland, 11:38! Granger!"

Ginny gave Hermione a little push. "Go get 'em." Hermione nodded and walked off, her trunk following her. She walked up to the attendant and gave him a smile. "Hello."

   The young attendant eyed her. "Are you Miss Granger?" he asked, taking her in. Hermione mentally applauded Ginny. She really knows how to work her magic. She winced slightly at the pun.

   "Yes, I am. " Hermione said. The attendant smiled. "Your Portkey's over there, Miss. The red book. Will take you right into Hogsmeade Station."

   "Thanks," Hermione said. She turned. Ginny was standing there, twisting her wedding band on her finger. "Bye!" Hermione cried. "Give all my love to Harry!"

Here goes nothing, she thought, butterflies running free in the meadow of her stomach. She tentatively grabbed the tattered red book, grabbing the trunk with one hand—

And felt a jerk from right behind her navel, and was whisked away…

*~*~*~*~*

Hola! Welcome again to the Authoress's Note, si, gather round.

Well, the second chapter, done! It took me about three hours to write this—I made up about twenty different back stories, only two of which appear in this chapter. Prepare yourselves! I'm making them funny. I hope.

Many thanks to:

Rogue Mage

Sidekickwannabe

And the one other person who sent me an email…

Thank you guys SO VERY MUCH, I'm glad you reviewed. It officially made my day. Keep reading!

~La Madame Plot Bunnie