A/N: Funny story: My mom has this theory that Hermione and Ron HAVE to get together, as do Harry and Ginny because she thinks that, somehow, they will all have to be related by marriage to defeat Voldy. I cracked up. That's the kind of theory that would send H/Hers into a fit of protestation! (I've GOT to use it!) Anyway, sorry for taking so long to update. I've been dealing with lots of college stuff, and scholarship stuff. I got into my first choice, YAH! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this small chapter (I'm sorry it's so short, I didn't want to keep it any longer.) Please review! You are all so wonderful and I hope you know how much you all inspire me! Thanks!

Chapter 15

~Ron~

"It couldn't be." Hermione was walking beside me toward the next town.

"It could be, but I don't think it is." I scratched my head and adjusted my jumper.

"Well, who else could it be? I *know* those eyes Ron, they practically scream his name." She threw her arms up in the air.

"I don't know who else it is, but do the math Hermione. Dumbledore is only about a hundred and fifty years old and we've...gone back, almost four hundred years. It doesn't make practical sense." I shoved my hands in my pockets and shook my head.

Hermione seemed almost surprised at my words, finally she crossed her arms in resignation and took a deep breath, "You're...right. I wasn't...thinking practically."

I stopped in the middle of the road and nearly had a cardiac arrest right there, "Wait, just stop walking, I want to savor this moment for just a little bit."

Hermione turned around and walked back to me with that I'm-on-the-edge-of-being-aggravated-at-you look on her pretty face, "You don't need to rub it in my face."

"But Hermione, not only were you acting impractically, but I was RIGHT, too!" I grabbed my forehead, just for effect and made a whimpering sound.

She straightened up and turned around, giving me a good view of her icy shoulder and she began to stalk off down the road. Great.

"Hermione, I was just joking, come on! I'm sorry." I ran up behind her and turned her to face me, grabbing her shoulders, "I shouldn't have said that. I don't want to fight with you, not here, not now. It's just, sometimes I get frustrated that I never get to be the one with the brilliant ideas. You're *always* the clever one, the innovative one. You have...amazing wit and I just couldn't let that opportunity pass by without some sort of recognition. It's not everyday that I am more *practical* than the 'Brilliant Hermione Granger', is it?"

Hermione looked up at me and assessed my apology, "Fine, but only because we need to get moving."

She turned to walk again and I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw a small smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

We walked on down the road until we saw a grouping of houses, only a bit bigger than the last one, "Do you think that's it?"

Hermione evaluated the landscape and shrugged, "We'll never know until we knock on a door and ask."

I reached out and offered her my hand. She looked up at me and smiled, the uncertainty showed in her eyes, but she took my hand. I squeezed it.

"Ron, I-" she began, but I stopped her.

"Hermione, I promise that we will get out of here," I looked around and then back at her, "Wherever we are. And I also promise that we'll survive to see the outside of those blasted caves. AND...we WILL have a really, serious talk about...that night in the kitchen. But, you were right, we need to focus on this right now."

Hermione had a question written on her face, but chose give a silent nod in answer.

Hand in hand we strode toward the first house and knocked on the door.

"Who goes there?" asked a voice from inside.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Not again."

"We're weary travelers sir, I assure you we aren't part of Charmenmere's ranks. We're just here to ask about a man named Albus," I rambled.

With only a moment of hesitation, the door cracked open and out popped a very large nose attached to a sliver of face that was squashed between the door and its frame.

"A man named Albus lives in this village, yes. He resides in the house next to a small fenced-in garden. He is a lonely man and I hope that your business with him is peaceful. Good day to you." The exposed bit of the man's face disappeared, followed by his expansive nose, and then the door shut with a resounding click.

I looked at Hermione and she shrugged, "At least he was informative, if not hospitable."

"Information was all we asked for, remember?"

She smiled, "You're right, let's go."

As we were walking through the little village I noticed that it was very alive. Every house had noise of activity emitting from within it's walls and crevices. Rodents and dogs chased each other around houses and into the surrounding plains. Small children played in a hay stack in between two houses as their teenaged caretakers, probably an older brother from one family and an older sister from the other, spoke with each other shyly. I let my eyes search the road ahead of me and suddenly I spotted a small house with low eaves and a tiny gate that led into a small, yet flourishing, fenced-in garden.

"I think that's it." I said, pointing toward the little cottage.

I trailed after Hermione up to the door where she knocked three times and waited. Ten minutes went by and we knocked again. After almost twenty minutes of standing at his door until we gave up.

"I guess he's not home," she said turning to go back down the road.

But, at that moment there was a large crash that came from around the back of the cottage. Hermione spun around and we looked at each other wide-eyed for a moment before taking off toward the sound. Around the house we went, Hermione right behind me, tripping over her long skirt. I burst through the gate and stopped short when I saw the source of the crash. It was a man, no more than thirty or thirty-five, sitting on his bum in the middle of his garden. There was a small broken cauldron lying in front of him, slime oozing out of the cracks, and the ground around it was scorched black, killing the surrounding plants and flowers. The man, a lanky, graying Englishman sat some feet away, black scorch marks covering his face and clothing.

"Well, that was a wash!" he yelled, getting up, brushing himself off and leaning over to pick up the broken pieces of his cauldron.

Hermione stepped in front of me and leaned over to see him, clearing her throat, "Sir, are you alright?"

He shook his head and began to ramble, "Yes, but this blasted potion failed. It SHOULD have worked this time, it's such a simple potion! Maybe the extra things that I put in the fertilizer mak-" He looked up surprised,"Who are you?" he asked.

Hermione took a step toward him and knelt to face him, "I'm Hermione and this," she pointed to me, "this is Ron. We were told that you could help us."

He looked us both over, "You're using your time unwisely. I could not help another living soul even if I tried."

He struggled to his feet and bent to pick up the broken pieces of his cauldron, shaking the wasted potion off of the fragments.

Hermione leaned over, a look of furrowed pity set on her face and began to help him.

"Why are you still here?" he asked, a tone of complete surrender in his voice.

Hermione stood and put a tentative hand on his shoulder, "Because we believe that you can help us."

His eyes scraped over her face, trying to find sincerity there.

She smiled slightly and added, "And, maybe, we can help you."

A grin spread across my face at her words. Maybe she was right.

"Hear us out at least. We'll do anything you want us to if you'll just hear us out." I said.

He looked down at the broken pieces and sighed, "Well, if you'd only help me clean this catastrophe out of my garden...I'll listen to what you have to say."


An hour later we were sitting in Albus's home, my sleeves were rolled up, Albus was pouring some water from a pitcher, and Hermione was splayed out on a chair, fanning herself with part of her skirt.

"Well, what is it that you need MY help for?" Albus asked us, sitting down at the table and handing us glasses.

Hermione took a giant swig from her cup and then sat up, straightening herself. Then, she proceeded to tell him the whole story up until the point at which we arrived in his garden.

"My word. You two are from the future, you say?" he scratched his head as she nodded.

"What can I do? I must help you, but I've no idea how to go about it," he sighed, "I don't feel like I could help anyone," he looked over at Hermione and said, "I have a daughter. Her name is Beatrice and she is thirteen years old. Sarah, her mother, was...a wonderful woman. Sarah died four years ago, a casualty of the war with Charmenmere. I thought that was the worst thing that could ever happen to us...to me. But then, several days ago, I came in from the garden and was greeted by an empty house. Beatrice was gone. She'd been taken, RIGHT from our own home and I'd never heard a sound. I'm afraid she's gone for good. They've sent no word and they don't seem to be holding her for a ransom. I fear that I'll never see her safe again. She was all I had left of my wife." Albus rubbed a calloused hand over his face and sniffed. His eyes shone in the light of the afternoon.

Hermione reached over and slipped her hand into his larger one and said, "What can we do to help you?"

"You didn't come all the way here to help a lost old man."

"Actually we didn't MEAN to come here at all. But, now that we're here and we don't know how to go back...why not help you?" I said, shrugging.

Albus's face screwed into an odd smile and then he sighed.

"Well, if you feel the need to help, I don't see why I should refuse you."

"That's does it then," Hermione said, "And don't worry about us."

She looked at me and grinned, "Yeah, Hermione and I have been in more dangerous situations than this before."

"We should get some of the others from the village to help. A small group. People who really care about you and Beatrice," said Hermione.

"Well, we are, what you might call...loners. There's only one other family who might want to help."

"Who?" I asked.

He smiled a bit, "Daniel, Marian, and Isaac Dumbledore."

OKAY! Whew! (NOW I bet you are confused! Or, maybe not.)

Anyway, it's time for the inevitable. You must review. Yes, it is a duty and a right. I expect you to exercise that right! (Salute!)

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