Chapter 1- A Run-In With Magic

"Hello sweetheart! Tell me, Nicole, where does it hurt?" Hermione said, inspecting a tiny young girl rather thoroughly.

"On my arm. And my leg. And my elbow!" Nicole responded, rubbing the great rash once more.

"There, there, don't touch it. That might hurt it." the doctor chortled soothingly. Hermione took a mere glance at the mother of the young girl.

"What's her full name again?" Hermione called, making a notification in a clipboard.

"Nicole Katie Wood." The mother reached over Nicole's weary body and patted her gently. Whatever rash plagued her, it had downright exhausted her and her husband. She paused, then rose to speak again.

"My husband, Oliver- he thinks it's something strange. I took her here instead of, my er, my normal Hospital. He doesn't want to bother the heal-doctors! there."

"Your husband's name is Oliver Wood?" A memory struck Hermione by the nose- Harry's first qudditch game.

"Why, yes. Why, do you know him?" Mrs. Wood said, setting Nicole in her lap.

"Erm, no, don't think I do. Sorry, just a mistake. My bad." Hermione blushed, as she jotted down her prescription and handed it to her.

She settled down on the inspection table, massaging her worn-out forehead. A knock on her door startled her.

"Yes!" the young doctor began timidly, trying not to shake too much.

"Ms. Granger, a young man by the names of 'David Tremens' has arrived to see you. Will you be accepting his visit, dearie, or are you busy with a patient?" the voice called back, not bothering to open the door.

Hermione rose from her seat. "Tell him to come in…my next appointment is in an hour. I've got the time." She headed for a chair besides her desk, and promptly settled herself inside the cushy center.

"Hi, David." She said, trying to manage a smile. The doctor tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Do you need something, or…what?" She got up to greet her present boyfriend, still trying not to appear entirely shaky. He was grinning, a great smile upon his face. He leaned in to kiss her, embracing her backbone and holding her close to him. Upon finally coming up for air, he faced her. He ran a hand through her hair, drawing her closer and closer to him.

"Only thing I need…" he began, eyes fixated where they shouldn't be, "Is you." He breathed heavily in her ear, nipping gently at her skin.

She pulled away from him, stifling her laughter. "I'm at work, Dave! I can't go off snogging you right now! I've an appointment in an hour and I can't be spared of the time! There are records to be made, patients to double check, prescriptions to learn about! Really, Dave, I'd love to, but I can't. Honestly."

"'Mione…" he whined, reaching for her delicate shoulders. Her eyes snapped open farther than they'd ever been.

"Wha-what- what did you call me?" Hermione's heart stuttered in her chest.

"Mione. As in, HerMIONE. Get it?" he laughed, tracing a hand around her hips. She breathed heavily. The last person who called her that had been Ron. Come to think of it, they were yelling, involved in a great row. Of course, afterwards they had snogged like nothing else.

She sighed softly at that memory, beaming at the thought of her red-haired lover.

"Hermione!" he shrieked loudly in her ear like a parrot.

"Mmmhmm?" The young woman said, jerking back to reality.

"Oh! David! Er, um, yeah. You know, I don't feel well. Maybe I'll just…oh dear." Hermione fell backwards onto her chair. He peered over at her, sitting on the edge of the armchair.

"And maybe a quick shag would help…" He said, tracing the curve of her cheekbone.

"Oh, no. I think I'm sick...something like the flu. Maybe it's a new virus, I'm not sure. I might just go back to my flat…I'm feeling very tired and such. Perhaps I should just…uggh." She moaned as she massaged her forehead. Only, despite David's hoping, it was not his kind of moan, but yet a moan of sickness.

He was now leaning into kiss her once more. "Then at least give me a sweet goodbye kiss of affection. You know, to remind me you're still interested." She waved her hand at him.

"No, no, it's better if I don't kiss you, what with the transferring of germs and all. I'll, erm, call you on my phone if I get better. I'd best get home." Hermione said. She had already risen to gather her belongings, and she was currently writing a note to her secretary notifying her of her absence.

"Hermione…" his voice trailed off. "Please...just one kiss. At least promise me we'll have a quickie in the office as soon as you get better."

Hermione shuddered at the thought of going farther than kissing with Dave. "You know, Dave, I'm not always ready for a shag. In fact, our relationship is NOTHING but snogging and shagging! And as for our relationship- what relationship? We never talk, just kiss or fondle. And personally, I'm getting sick of it. I'm not a desperate teenager, I'm a full-fledged woman!" she was beginning to get hysterical now. "And you- look at you! Barging into my office when I have work, always wanting a 'quickie', making me do things in strange fantasies, never respecting my privacy- I'm tired of it! And until you understand that, we're over!" she chucked a clipboard at him, glowering with anger.

"Over...but...wait…you need me- I need you! Hermione!" He stood up, trying to grab her in his arms. She jerked away.

"No! And I'm going to my flat- as a SINGLE WOMAN! WITHOUT YOU, DAVE!" She shrieked, storming out of the office.

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She flopped down on her bed, glad to be inside the flat without pesky Marlene over her shoulder like she always was. Massaging her forehead, she knew that deep inside her heart, she missed the Wizarding World. But her patience was low, so she decided she would lie down and nap for a little while.

Her dreams came in waves, long, steady waves of memories where all she could do was sit and watch and long for the people inside of them.

Making new friends on a train, seeing bulging eyes inside a mirror, watching Ron get dragged away by a tree root, watching Harry come out of the maze with a dirty body, holding onto Ron and sobbing after Dumbledore's funeral, finding the locket in the Black's house, discovering Ginny's absence- and then her slow return to health- and then, blood, on Ron's face, he had been attacked by a Hippogriff, an owl concerning Neville's sudden death…

"Oh, make it stop!" She cried from her bed. "Make it stop, make it stop!" Hermione tossed and turned in her bed, trying to forget everything.

Her past was haunting her, and she knew very well why: it was time to go back.