"Harry!" She had to find him! He would be the only one who could tell her what was going on, and she only hoped she could find him.
Racking her brain, she realized that Harry probably would not be living with his uncle and aunt anymore, perhaps…of course! He must be staying with the Weasleys, and even if he wasn't, Mrs. Weasley must know about his whereabouts! After all, she was like a second mother to him.
Smiling to herself, Hermione took a handful of Floo powder from the urn on the fireplace and threw it into the fireplace.
"The Burrow!" She shouted before jumping into the emerald flames.
Holding her breath, she felt the ashes burning around her, and before she knew it, she was standing in the fireplace of a very cozy and familiar kitchen. She took in a deep whiff of the air, breathing in the mixture of coffee and mint which reminded her so much of her own house.
"Ron? Harry?" Hermione called up the stairs. "Anyone home?" To her disappointment, no one answered her. She thought of going upstairs and looking around, but she decided against it, and chose to look outside instead.
Upon wandering outside into the garden, she discovered Mrs. Weasley's large rump sticking out from underneath a mulberry bush.
"Mrs. Weasley?"
"Yes? Just a minute." Molly's voice was muffled by the thickly intertwined branches and leaves. "Darn garden gnomes. Always causing trouble! I will be right out with you."
After what seemed like eternity, Molly backed up until Hermione could make out a huge sunhat perched on top of a reddened face.
"Oh, it's you, Hermione." Molly stood up and clapped her garden gloves together, trying to get off the soft dirt and carefully avoiding Hermione's eyes.
Hermione didn't know why, but a cold mask seemed to flicker across Mrs. Weasley's usually warm face. "Mrs. Weasley, do you think you could tell me where I can find Harry?" She asked politely.
Mrs. Weasley looked at Hermione curiously, inspecting her as if she could find the answer if she looked hard enough. What could she possibly want with that poor boy?
"Please, Mrs. Weasley, it is very important." Hermione begged, sensing Mrs. Weasley's eyes flickering with distrust.
Mrs. Weasley sighed. "I don't know what you could possibly want to do with him, but if you must, I have his address written down somewhere. Come on, there's tea on the stove." Molly took off her overlarge sun hat and beckoned Hermione to follow her back into the kitchen.
"Here, sit down and drink some tea, I'll be right back." Mrs. Weasley said as they entered the kitchen, and heaved off after pulling out a chair and conjuring up a mug for Hermione.
Left alone, Hermione looked around herself.
The Burrow hadn't changed from the last time she had been there. It was still cozy, and everything she looked for in the perfect home. Warming herself with the hot mug, Hermione lifted herself out of the rickety wooden chair and walked into the living room, glancing at the renowned Weasley clock, where nine hands pointed out the description of where everyone was. "Molly Weasley, home…Arthur Weasley, work…Bill Weasley, home…Charlie Weasley, work….Ginny Weasley, school….Ron Weasley..."
Hermione's mug hit the ground, shattering into small pieces.
Ron's hand of the clock was gone.
"Hermione?" Hearing the shattering of porcelain, Mrs. Weasley had hurried downstairs to find Hermione standing shocked in front of the infamous Weasley clock with tears running down her face.
As if suddenly breaking out of a trance, Hermione turned towards Mrs. Weasley to reveal a tearstained face. "R-ron. He…"
Mrs. Weasley nodded. "He's gone, dear." New tears threatened to spring up in her eyes as well. "The deatheaters took him. –break- that stubborn boy…he wouldn't take no for an answer. He had to fight with Harry. He wouldn't stand being left at home while his best friend risked his neck."
Hermione walked over to Mrs. Weasley, embracing her in a tight hug. "I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley, I'm so sorry. How long has it been?"
"Nine, ten years." Now Mrs. Weasley's voice cracked. "I miss him so much, Hermione. It hurts every time I think about him."
"I know." Hermione couldn't believe it. Hadn't she just seen Ron yesterday? Heading up to the boys dorm for a mid-afternoon nap?
Mrs. Weasley sniffed, easing herself out of Hermione's embrace. "Well, what's done is done. Nothing can change this." She pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry dear. Here's Harry's address."
Hermione took the paper from Mrs. Weasley's outstretched arm, and after shooting her one more worried glance, left the poor woman in her own sorrow. "Thanks Mrs. Weasley. Goodbye."
Hermione stepped out of the kitchen shutting the door firmly behind her and letting her tears flow freely again.
She would have never imagined in a million years that her life would end up like this.
Carrying herself as fast as she could away from the burrow, Hermione finally remembered why she had gone there, and glancing down at the paper saw that Harry, too, lived in London. "Damn it." She swore under her breath.
She had no means of transportation…unless…Hermione realized that perhaps she could apparate, seeing that she was indeed already 30. However, she had only read about it in books before, having never really tried it, and she knew the consequences if it didn't work properly.
Hermione stood contemplating for a while until she realized that she wasn't going to get anywhere like that, and decided to try her luck. "143 Downtown London!" Hermione shouted with her wand above her head. Shutting her eyes, Hermione wished with all her might that she would end up where she wanted to be…in one piece.
Still squeezing her eyes tightly shut, Hermione didn't even realize that her feet were back on solid ground again, and that she was standing on Harry's porch. When finally she mustered enough courage to open her eyes, she found that she was, thank Merlin, in one piece, standing on the steps of a small modest Victorian townhouse on the busy streets of London.
Her eyes slid up to the numbers nailed on the door. 1-4-3—suddenly Hermione was banging on the door with no inhibition. "Harry! Harry!" She called out, unaware that she was attracting the odd glares of the neighborhood elderly who were sitting out on their porches.
"Coming." Hermione froze as she heard a voice that was unmistakably Harry's answering her.
"Yea what do you -" Harry opened the door as much as the security chain would allow him, his surprise apparent in his emerald eyes.
Hermione stared at Harry, it seemed so long since they had talked. "Harry, it's me-" Harry watched her confused. "-Hermione."
"I- what are you doing here?" Harry ran a hand through his unruly mane.
"Harry, it's me."
The door slammed shut in her face, and she was about to start pounding again when it opened all the way, allowing her to look into Harry's house. She threw herself at him, hugging him hard. "Harry!"
"Listen, something really weird happened!" Hermione cried, barging into Harry's house.
"What are you –why are you here?" Harry asked her again.
"I told you - something really weird is happening. Yesterday was my 13th birthday and then, and then today I woke up and I'm this, and you, I mean - you're that! You get it?"
"Do you have a fever?"
"I need your help, Harry, remem-" Hermione glanced at Harry to see his eyes staring at her intently.
"Well I'm always glad to be of service." He chuckled. "But-"
"But what?" Hermione inquired.
"Well we aren't exactly…"
A cold fear gripped Hermione. "What are you saying, Harry?"
"Well, you haven't exactly talked to me since that incident in our third year." Harry kept his eyes downcast.
"What?" Hermione looked up at him, her eyes a pool of confusion.
"Well, you wouldn't listen to me when I told you that all the Slytherins wanted to do was to humiliate you, and well you were so angry at me because you thought I had chased them away that-you, you stopped talking to me." Harry slumped in one of the couches in his living room. He looked up at her. "So here we are, almost twenty years later." He ran his hand through his hair again.
Hermione gasped, she remembered that day like it was just yesterday. It was...and the magic powder!
"Harry, Harry!" Hermione called for his attention. "Remember that magic powder that you gave me?"
Harry chuckled. "That thing? It was a buncha crap that's what it was."
"No Harry it isn't!" Hermione stated. "Everything is like a dream. I have my dream job, my own apartment. It seems so unreal! It's so perfect.." Hermione drifted off.
"So what do you want me to do for you?" Harry asked, his tone suddenly very serious.
"What-you-me-" Hermione seemed taken aback at his question. "I-I just want you to fill me in about everything that's happened.
"I want to know how you've been too, Harry."
I stole a line :), can you guess which? reviews reviews! thank you