First of all I want to apologise for the delay of this chapter. I'm really, really sorry for keeping you waiting. I'm going through a very hard and messy break-up with a guy I thought was great, but anyway, so I've had writers block because of that for the last four weeks. I'm really sorry and i will try and write more from now on. Anyway here's the long awaited chapter. Again sorry for its shortness and I'm afraid its not its usual standard so I hope you can forgive me that. Anyway here's the chapter

CHAPTER 15 It Takes Ancient Books To Realise New Things

Hermione bustled about in the large ancient library of the Ministry of Magic, her specs sitting on the edge of her nose, her bushy hair was tied tightly into a bun as she scanned the rows of shelves that contained many ancient books and parchments. She finished searching through one row, and made her way to the next, the dim light only just barely giving her light to see and read the titles of the books. Most of them were over three hundred years old, decaying and their leather bound covers and gold gilt writing had long worn off. The window high up in the large hall, that reminded Hermione more of a cavern, gave only little light, and as Hermione made her way into the shadows of one of the large bookshelves, she was enveloped in darkness. Hermione drew out her wand and conjured up an orb of glowing light to hover at her eye level. On she scanned, her breath echoing through the large hall with its eerie silence, when she reached the end of one large bookshelf and let out a decisive Ah. She pulled a book from the bookshelf and made her way back to where the light was, under the small window. There she carefully opened the old book, that looked no different from the other volumes, were it not for its rather distinct (considering its age) red ink writing on the front. It read out The Greatest Thing There Is, The Power Book Of The Ages. She had found what she needed. She made her way to a rickety old wooden table and set the book on it, her orb now hovering right beside her, as she carefully opened the book. Hermione held her breath, as she flicked through the first few pages, that contained much handwritten notes and texts. Even though this book was a copy of the original, which is not unheard of as many authors reproduced a book, Hermione was still considerably nervous. From the little snippets she read here and there, she realised it was not an exact copy of the original, it had many things that were its own, and soon Hermione realised that this book, though a copy of the original, was actually a manual book, a book to show you how to use the other. Hermione took a deep intake of breath as she realised it, and turned the pages with even more caution. It contained many notes of the author, and as she turned a page, now nearing the middle of the book, a blinding white light left the page and enveloped her and most of the hall in brightness. When the light had dimmed down considerably, Hermione looked around and noticed she was no longer in the hall. Instead she was in a small dark hallway, with a doorway at the end, where candlelight streamed into the hall. Hermione gingerly made her way to the doorway and looked inside. An old man was sitting at a wooden table, his head bent over something and by the scratching heard he was writing. Hermione made her way to the man, as quiet as she could and tapped him on the shoulder, but he did not move. She turned around to face him, but he paid no notice to her. Hermione reasoned she was in someone's memory, like Harry was back in the Riddle diary in second year. She looked around the room, and saw many parchments littering the other tables, bookshelves and chairs. It was obvious that this man was a writer of some sort, and as Hermione examined the book, the man was writing, she realised it was the stolen book, The Greatest Thing There Is. The man was currently writing a phrase into the book and as Hermione read it over his shoulder, it started glowing. The light grew so bright Hermione had to squint, and she could only see the writing.

Everything else in the room was fading into darkness. The writing read, The power and control of this book is controlled by one thing. The greatest thing there is on this earth. No dark magic can pierce its power and meaning, for this power is the greatest there is and the most powerful. All who read these lines, beware this book can be tampered with but only those pure of heart can ever control its powers. The writing got so bright, Hermione had to shut her eyes and cover her eyes with her hands, as the blinding light was even penetrating her eyelids.

When the light had dimmed down, Hermione dared to open her eyes once more and found she was no longer in the small dark room, but her own apartment.

"How on earth did I get here?" Hermione wondered aloud. "The book must have transported me here, but why?" She made her way to the couch to check it was real, and it was for she could feel the soft cover on it. She was definitely in her apartment, but some things were different. There were more paintings and photos hanging on the walls, Quidditch gear was lying untidily in a corner, and outside she could see that the tree beside her apartment had lost most of its leaves and the ones left on the tree were turning a hundred shades of auburn.

"That's odd", Hermione mused, for it was actually springtime and yet here it was, autumn. "It must be another memory", Hermione reasoned, but why did the book show her a memory of her own? Just then the door opened and Hermione jumped in fright. Ron came into the apartment, followed by herself, though a younger looking Hermione. The younger looking Hermione was laughing and she had leaves in her bushy hair. Ron was also laughing and grabbed her by the waist, as she tried to pull away.

"Ron!" Hermione giggled, "I'm trying to get all those leaves out of my hair".

"I think you look more beautiful with them", Ron laughed and Hermione pulled a face.

Hermione gently pulled away from Ron as she made her way to the kitchen, pulling the leaves out of her hair. Ron followed her chuckling to himself, and the Hermione of the present, followed both of them, still confused. Why exactly was she in this memory. It seemed no more special than most other memories of her and Ron. When the present Hermione reached the kitchen, the other Hermione was bent over the stove making some hot chocolate. Ron was sitting at the table, smiling at her.

"You should really stop pushing me into that patch of dead leaves. The caretaker won't be happy when he sees the mess we left behind in the park", Hermione said seriously as she pulled out two mugs from the cupboard and filled them with hot chocolate.

"You really don't know what its like to be a child anymore, do you? Oh god what's happened to the real Hermione", Ron exclaimed jumping out of his seat to examine her, peering into her eyes and opening her mouth.

"Hello Hermione, are you in there?" he called out looking into her mouth, as Hermione started giggling and pulled away from me.

"Ron", she laughed heartily and Ron smiled cheekily back at her.

"I know one way to figure out, if this is really you", Ron said cheekily, pulling her away from the kitchen as Hermione laughed even more. The present Hermione blushed, as the two, her younger self and Ron, passed her by, knowing full well what would happen next. The present Hermione stood her ground in the doorway of the kitchen, as the scene around her, the kitchen and everything else seemed to fast forward around her, making Hermione so dizzy she closed her eyes, but when she felt the dizziness stop, she was standing in the living room once more of the apartment, and she saw herself and Ron walking into the living room, both looking very flushed. Hermione blushed again, though this time for longer, as she watched herself and Ron make their way to the couch and sit down on it. Hermione pulled out the Daily Prophet from under the coffee table and started reading it, but stopped and looked up at Ron.

"Hey Ron, so what are you going to do today?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know suppose I have to go home and show my face to Harry or else he would be wondering where I disappeared to", Ron replied lazily.

"You could stay here for another night if you wanted to", Hermione replied, "I mean your gear is still in the corner".

"Yeah, but I think Harry will get angry at us, if I don't appear. I think he wants some company", Ron replied.

"Poor Harry, I mean I'm stealing his roommate on him", Hermione sympathised.

"Well if you want me out of the apartment", Ron said getting up.

"No, no", Hermione laughed pulling him back down, when he fell on her lap.

"Hermione", Ron asked raising an eyebrow, "Isn't this meant to be the other way around?"

"You're just silly", Hermione replied laughing.

"You know what Hermione?" Ron said gently pushing a strand of hair out of her face.

"What?" Hermione asked trying not to giggle.

"You're beautiful", Ron replied looking at her and smiling.

"No I'm not, my hair is big and messy...", Hermione said.

"You're smart, beautiful, completely adorable and the best friend anyone could ever ask for", Ron said ignoring what Hermione said.

Hermione blushed, but looked Ron in the eyes and smiled when she saw all the love in his eyes. "You said beautiful twice".

"Because I meant it that much, plus I love you!" Ron said smiling at her.

Hermione looked shocked at Ron, while she stammered, "You love me?"

"I always have, I just can't believe I never seen it before", Ron said still smiling at her.

"Oh my god Ron", Hermione cried hugging him tightly as tears fell, but she wasn't crying because of sadness, she was so overjoyed she couldn't help but smile.

"I love you too", Hermione said her voice muffled against his sweater, "I've always loved you. Oh you make me so happy!" And when she drew away and looked him in the eyes he kissed her so deeply and so full of love, that if she would have died at that very moment she couldn't be happier.

The present Hermione smiled as she watched the two, her eyes full of tears as she saw her own memory replay in front of her. Oh how she had forgotten that memory, how she had buried it deep within her mind after they had broken up, for this memory was one of the sweetest she had of herself and Ron. It was that one memory she clung to after the break-up, the one memory she used to tell herself that someone who is that sweet, couldn't hurt her as much as he did. It was also the memory she used to tell herself he would take her back, if she just gave him space and time to think about it. I mean how could someone be so sweet and hurt her so bad. It just wasn't logical. She never understood things when they were about the heart and love. She only understood facts and figures, remembered important information, but when it came to her heart, Hermione was as clueless as a child. She sighed as her head drooped and the memory in front of her swirled once again and she felt like someone had grabbed her from behind and pulled her out of the memory. A second or two later, she was back in the hall of records in the Ministry of Magic holding the ancient book, totally confused.