'Ginny, open up, it's me, Hermione; I need to talk to you.' Hermione was frantically banging on the door, so hard that a few neighbours came out to see what was happening. Ginny opened the door and Hermione immediately froze, Ginny looked around, apologising to her neighbours. She pulled Hermione inside and gave her a stern look. 'What is it?'

'Harry,' she said, 'He's, still in love w...w...ith you.'

'What? Me? He couldn't be, he left me remember? He told me he didn't love me any more, he loved you, not me.'

'But Ginny, I've just this moment left him, he thought you were with me, and he told me he still loved you himself, not me, you. But I guess it wasn't going to work out anyway, I mean, he would have left me sooner or later.'

Hermione turned to walk out, she looked back at Ginny once more and told her 'I'll call you tomorrow and give you his number; he seemed pretty keen to talk to you, have fun.'

Hermione left the large modern house and walked towards her car; she quietly got in and wept. She was stupid enough to believe he loved her, and yet, he never, again, she couldn't help but think about last time they were together, he had hurt her, and he never even told her the full story, but all she knew was he'd gone from the other girl he was with to Ginny, and she felt scared for her friend because he could hurt her too, like he hurt Hermione, and maybe it would be the same way he hurt Hermione.

When she got home she threw her keys onto the small table next to the door, she only had a small apartment, the hallway was warm and cosy, with a cream carpet and gold walls, then you entered the kitchen, mahogany cupboards with black marble tops, and a huge silver cooker, which was good for Hermione because she loved to cook, through the kitchen was a small but nice living room, with brown leather sofas, and a widescreen TV, but the best room was the bedroom, canopy bed, red and black, candles everywhere and pine furniture, satin bed covers and furry pillows, Hermione's favourite.

She walked through to the living room, flumped down onto the sofa and drifted off to sleep, she dreamt about Hogwarts, about the good times, then she woke up when the post came through the door, she slumped over to the door and picked up a few letters, she looked through them , several were bills, she paused as she came to one with her name scribbled on it, she turned it over and opened it roughly, and looked at the letter with shock, she knew it was from a classmate from Hogwarts, but who? There was no name, she looked through the letter, and it read:

Dear Hermione,

It's been so long, I don't know what to say, I saw you last week in the restaurant, and I needed to talk to you, I've needed to since Hogwarts, but we never were that close, at least I don't think we were, if I told you how I felt then God knows how much people would hate me, Harry, Ron, everyone, not a lot of people did like me, but please, meet me in Nobel Street coffee shop, Thursday at 11am, we can meet, talk, maybe date?

Hermione looked up, who could it be? She didn't know anybody that wasn't liked, unless, unless it was... No, it couldn't be. Surely not. She'd have to wait until tomorrow.