The One Who Had the Clearest View

Chapter Six – Anton Eval

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything you recognise of J. K. Rowling's. So don't sue me.

Also, any people from California reading this don't be offended. The 'blundering idiots' Alana is training isn't meant to mean anything nasty. I have Californian roots and so have nothing against you; California was the first American place that popped into my head.

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Anton Eval

'THEY'VE SENT ME TO CALIFORNIA! I'M TRAINING THEIR FIRST LEVELS!

I can't believe it! They've decided that because you got such a good review for your first day, they want Brian and me to have a go at training again! I thought once was enough! But no. They're putting me through it again! I can really say I know what you're going through now, Mione!

You wouldn't believe how much we all miss you Mione! The office was so dead after you left I'm almost glad to be out of it training up the Californian candidates. How are the British candidates now? By the sound of it I think you scared them into shape during your first few lectures. The Californian candidates aren't much better and I've come close to physically strangling one of them. Is it just Brian and I, but have entry (and intelligence) standards taken a nose dive since we began? Some of the things I've seen these people doing (or not doing) are unbelievable! I can't wait to write my report on them for Mike Flanders next month (He's the 'Man in Charge' here.) Hopefully it'll wake him up for when he comes to pick next year's batch. I'm also hoping that when my report gets back to the office they'll see what they're putting me through and bring me back.

Wish me luck with my group of blundering idiots.

Good luck with your group of blundering idiots.

See you over New Year.

Alana.'

Hermione sighed and folded the letter again. Outside it was, to nobody's surprise, raining. She missed home. She was counting the days until she could see it again. 8 days. 8 days until she jetted home. Today was the 20th of December and she was looking forward to Christmas with a feeling closer to anxiety that excitement. She would be spending Christmas Eve and the majority of Christmas day with her family in London and then was going to spend Christmas night and Boxing Day with the Weasleys. She would be seeing a lot of her family for the first time in nine years, some she wouldn't have seen since before she went the Hogwarts. She was looking forward to seeing her grandmother though. Megan Granger had always loved seeing Hermione perform magic and her younger cousins relished the fact that she had promised she could make their sprouts disappear from their plates for them. However, her grandfather on her mother's side, his second wife, their children and their eldest daughter's child would be there as well and they had always treated Hermione as a family outcast, so much so that her grandfather had cut her out of his will. They hated magic and had claimed that Hermione was poisoning the minds of their children (and would possibly say the same about their grandchild now) ever since she had entered Hogwarts. This narrow minded branch of the family was the reason Hermione had spent every Christmas in Hogwarts, New York or London, since she was eleven. And now she would have to face them for the first time in sixteen years. She shuddered at the thought. The people had always managed to make her to feel unwelcome in her own home.

Also preying on her mind was staying overnight at the Weasley's for the first time since Ron had died. She'd spent days there, they'd all stayed with her for at least a weekend more than once, but she'd never stayed there overnight. She loved having either Fred and the kids, Bill, George, Percy, Charlie and their families, Arthur and Molly or, on more than one occasion, all of them, round because her house or apartment was only filled with post-school memories consisting of her, her friends and any of the Weasley's. In her own home she didn't have to face the thought of walking alone into the kitchen and being vividly reminded of the image of Ginny sat at the table, or have to walk past Ron's room on her way to the bathroom at night without the scene of her younger self, Ron and Harry sat on the floor playing cards flashing across her mind. She was still reminded of these things when she visited the house but there were always others around to take her mind off them during the day. The night, however, was a different story. She was scared of facing a night in The Burrow, scared of lying awake at night with nobody to take her mind off the pictures and sounds flashing through her mind. But she couldn't turn down their offer. She'd felt so bad for not letting the family know she was in England sooner and so had accepted, promising to be there for 5pm on Christmas day. She only hoped they didn't ask her to sleep in Ron or Ginny's room. Hermione would offer to sleep on the sofa but by doing that she'd be bringing back memories that she would have spent the day trying to squash. Undoubtedly the Weasley's would be doing that themselves that day. She knew how hard Christmas without a loved one was, especially when one was surrounded by memories of them. She would just ignore and avoid any situations where she would be forced to remember anything painful. But first she had to get through a day with Grandpa Ivan, Sandy ('stick insect' to Hermione and her cousin Louise, whom she had recently regained contact with) – Jane, Their bratty twenty-five year old daughter, Constance, their twenty-year-old spoilt brat Matthias and Constance's four year old daughter, Courtney. According to her mother, Courtney was a Constance in the making. 'What a lot to look forward to.' Hermione thought sarcastically.

"Excuse me, do you have the time?" asked a voice behind her, breaking into her thoughts. Hermione jumped and turned to see a man with white blonde hair and the greyest eyes she'd ever seen leaning around the door to her compartment on the train taking her across the English countryside away from Birmingham. His hair fell from behind his ear, gently pouring in front of his eyes and he swiped it back with such grace all Hermione could do was keep her from jaw dropping. Then man was gorgeous! Seeing he'd startled her his face broke out into the most beautiful apologetic smile she'd ever seen. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. My watch has stopped and the clock on my mobile phone needs setting and I need to phone ahead to my cousin to tell him I'm running late."

"It's ok," Hermione somehow managed to say, surprised her voice sounded more confident and normal than she had expected it to by far, "I was in a world of my own then. It's 6:34."

"Right, thank you," the blonde man smiled, drawing himself up to his full height as he began searching through the pockets of his dark green parka coat, finally producing a mobile phone identical to Hermione's. "Hey, snap!" he grinned.

"Pardon?" Hermione didn't have a clue what the man was on about.

"The Samsung T100. What are they like, I only bought mine this afternoon?" he gestured towards Hermione's phone, laying on a candidate's report she had given up marking.

"Oh. They're quite good." Hermione laughed, silently praying he couldn't read the heading of the report from where he was.

"The Use of Dragon's Claw In the Gabrilia Potion and the Side-Effects it Induces'. Interesting. I find Plaice fin marinated in vinegar for a week is a better substitute myself. Shortens the nausea but lengthens the dizziness." Too late. Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Oh. Really," she stammered.

"I'm Anton Eval. Beaubaxtons, class of'97." Anton extended a hand.

"Hermione Granger. Hogwarts, class of '98," she took the hand.

"Nice to meet you," he glanced at her left hand, "Miss Granger. Are you a teacher?"

"You could say that," she replied.

"Ah, a lady of mystery. I'm a Potion's researcher training under Professor Severus Snape up at Hogwarts at the moment. Do you remember him?"

"Of course, how could I not?" she smirked.

"You're the third person I've met this month who's said that. Anyway, I'd love to hear about your findings with the dragon's claw. If you don't mind sharing them with a fellow enthusiast, here's my address. I've got to go and phone my cousin now. Thanks very much. It was nice meeting you," Anton waved as he slipped out of the door.

"It was nice meeting you too," Hermione called after him as she got up close the door behind him. She glanced at the business card in her hand watching the little cauldron in the bottom right corner boil over as the flames grew. 'Anton Eval'. She'd heard that name somewhere.

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A/N: In case anyone is getting confused, someone told me that Harry and co. were born in 1980 and so I've worked from that for this story. That means they graduated in 1998 and this story is set in 2007. But, because I have no idea what 2007 will be like, I'm making the same as 2002, right down to mobile phones, fashion, TV and films.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, as soon as I'm back online I'll start mentioning your names in my little 'Thank you' bit. By the way, the Samsung T100 is the mobile phone I've been begging my mum for since about August. I'm not getting it because it costs £300 and she's just bought me a new phone. But I can dream, can't I.

I hope everybody had a Happy Christmas!

Mione