DISCLAIMER: HP's not mine..pls see disclaimer on page 1. thanks!

QUICK NOTE: HBP was great! I didn't cry though when the character who died, well, died…unlike when Cedric and Sirius did. I guess I was somehow expecting it'd be him. And I still don't believe that the character who killed him has gone entirely bad. I wonder what's gonna happen next. Ship-wise, I can't be happier!


CHAPTER 9: True Again

For, dear me, why abandon a belief
Merely because it ceases to be true?
Cling to it long enough, and not a doubt
It will turn true again, for so it goes.
-- Robert Frost, The Black Cottage


Hermione's bushy head was lying heavily over her arms, underneath them was an old, thick wizarding book that was quietly sniffing. "I said getoff me, lady!" it said in a very weary tone.

"Hang in there!" whispered some voices from several open books on the same table. Others were just plain mad, "Will you place us back, you witch!", "You think you're the only one who gets tired, do you?", "Hey!"

The large room of the library she was working at was empty and almost completely dark, except for the flickering orange candlelight beside her. Why wouldn't it? It has already been a few hours since the library closed, but she stayed just as what she had been doing for the past three days, researching day and night. During those past days, she asked a colleague to take her post while she busied her self with her task, and hardly ever moved from her place aside from when she needed to change books, or unavoidable calls of nature- otherwise, she would refuse to pause- yes, this exactly means she hasn't been eating or sleeping for the past days, until now and she wasn't even aware that she has dozed off.

"'Mione?" she heard her name just as she felt her shoulders being shaken. After a few minutes, Hermione slowly opened her tired eyes to see her company. Her vision was blurry but she could tell that the two figures belonged to Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. Hermione flinched, confused. Where was she again? Her worn-out mind was throbbing slightly and she couldn't seem to think well. She felt her back ache, and groaned as she pulled an arm to reach it and massage the hurting part. Even her arms turned out to be in pain- although oblivious to the fact that she had been sleeping on them for a couple of hours. She finally moved to sit properly, her guests taking their seats on each of her sides looking completely worried.

"Are you alright?" Harry inquired first.

Hermione nodded however looking too preoccupied examining the large room with only a very few people sitting quietly heads and noses buried seriously on their books. She seemed to have remembered her undertaking, but was instantly stunned to realize that her table had been emptied.

Recognizing her reaction, Ginny took the liberty into explaining about the books indignantly complaining on her wearing them out. "That's an unreasonable accusation!" she cried, and the few people halted to look at her.

"Well, you were sleeping on Magical World's Classified Inventions: Uncovered when we arrived and Sir Isiah Winston was flattened double. He was furious."

Before the brown-haired girl could retort, Harry butted-in, "Are you working on something?" he asked, "We have been contacting you through floo and no one's answering your house for the past two days."

"Well, Er," she looked uncertain. She hasn't told either that she saw Ron the night before they found her lying asleep on his grave. They knew that she couldn't remember what happened and her memories might have been altered, they knew that she had brewed and taken the poison to reinstate her recollections but she never told them that this only confirmed that Ron was alive. She wanted to prove it first because they would never come to believe her after three years of his absence. How would they? She couldn't explain why in the world he never came back within those long years, and wasn't she the only one left insisting that he was still alive when everyone had accepted the news? And then, wasn't her marriage to Viktor Krum only gave an impact that she had finally accepted that Ron would never return--because he was dead? Hermione knew better than that, and she would have this proven in no time.

Firstly, she has to know where he is. She needed to talk to him. Ask him what happened, why he didn't return, why hasn't he came back, was he hiding and from whom, who attacked her from behind and what happened after the attack, why was she left alive and where had he gone to. There were so many questions she wanted to ask him and so many things she wanted to tell. Issues she wanted to discuss with him. But then, perhaps, before that she wanted first to hug him, and kiss him…and probably ask him to take her away with him.

But this only comes down to her first mission--to know where he is.

"You're not trying to invent something, aren't you?" Harry prodded hesitantly.

Hermione faked a scoff, "Oh, no, no. I was…Well, I'm looking for someone I haven't seen for a long time. I don't know where this person is and I have no idea where this person could possibly be and…"

"I see," Ginny nodded, "something to locate her…or him?" there was a questioning look in her eyes.

Hermione ignored this and continued, "Yes." She answered firmly in spite of her dropping eyes. "But, er, well…we know there are lots of ways to tell someone's locations--crystal balls, cards, tea leaves, the stars--we know that only Seers could make use of these as medium, and how many Seers do we know existing, really?"

"Professor Trelawney." Harry answered.

"Yes. But then again, locating her would probably take as much time as locating this person." Hermione answered patiently. "And of course, there's always this old-custom ritual of stirring a concoction into a large pan and chanting some dark spells—this one, only really really old witches could do effectively with high skills on dark magic…"

"…and so much for dark magics, really." Harry added blankly.

"This person, Hermione," Ginny started thoughtfully, both heads turned to her, "this person's still alive, right?"

"Still alive, yes, of course." Hermione answered in a smile but refused to look at the red-head girl in the eyes. "As I was saying," she continued after a short moment of awkward silence, "We also know that other than those, there are things that could be used as a means."

Harry seemed to have developed an interest with Hermione's work. It had been a long time since he found himself huddled up with his friends trying to solve a mystery like this. For the past years, he was either playing Quidditch and living a life of an international star or staying at the Burrow and living a simpler life with the Weasleys whom have been his family especially what with him being Ginny's boyfriend. He was also Hermione Granger's best pal, still, but she herself has been busy with her own work and married life.

"Like the Maurader's Map, you mean?"

"Exactly. It's just a small piece of parchment, wasn't it?" Seeing Harry's attention, Hermione's hopes rose up that she'd be getting quite a help from her friends. "But then, even if there's a wizarding world's map, I don't think I'd have the patience or energy to check on each foot tracks to find Rrr..that person." She finished nervously.

"Then you might need something more personalized." Ginny suggested quietly. Hermione couldn't tell if she caught her almost saying her brother's name or completely missed it. "You couldn't make a personal map, since you don't know where this person is…but like what you said, there are other means…"

"A lot of means, but I can't think of anything that can be personalized unless you already have an idea of his whereabouts. A mirror, a TV screen, pale of water, silver plate, gold plate, any plate…"

Hermione was still going on when Ginny muttered, "For example, The Weasley Clock was definitely personalized. It couldn't tell though the exact location but it gives you an idea and you could start from there…"

"…a blanket, a wall.." she suddenly stopped and looked at Ginny, thoroughly bowled over. "But of course."

..

The Weasley Clock! How could she be so stupid to not think about it! After leaving a baffled-looking Harry and Ginny at the library by making so many excuses that might have been conflicting, but who cared? "need to go home, lots of things to do, have to rest, will visit my mom…" Hermione now stood before the counter of an old repair shop in Diagon Alley. This was where the famous family clock was brought when one of Ron's nieces and nephews accidentally broke it.

"It must be there somewhere. It was brought here about three to four years ago." She looked over the bar where at the other side were an old man and his teen-aged son rummaging what seemed to be a stack of boxes.

"What's wrong with you, really? We sent you an owl that you should get it back if you still want it because we can't fix it, but did you go and take it? No, you had to wait for years when this ol' clock has already been stashed. And now you have us turn this shop upside down to find it." The old man complained, his voice muffled as his head was dug into a container. After a while he pulled himself up, revealing his smug face now covered with dust and some webs caught on his white hair. "Found it boy, go and clean this mess up!" He ordered his companion while he took a rag and roughly wiped the familiar clock on his hand.

Hermione reached her hand, she was offering the man an amount of gold, "Here. I'm really sorry for bothering you." She said apologetically.

"What are you paying me for?" the man grunted, having finished wiping the clock, he held it to face him. "Didn't fix it, did I?" his thick white eyebrows meeting atop his long, thin nose. "I followed the manufacturer's instructions, their grandfather, spoke to the old man over floo." He was still scrutinizing every bit of the object on his hand. "Had it moved, yes." Indeed, Hermione was hearing ticking sounds. "New members automatically added themselves, sure." He tapped his wand on the clock and suddenly it grew four thin metallic lines on its sides and on each end popped round figures and the ticking sound increased. But see this?" The man turned the object around so that Hermione could see.

The Weasley clock looked entirely different. The original clock was at the middle, and the four additional seemed to have labeled themselves as "Charlie's Family", "Bill's Family", "Fred's Family", and George's Family"

Hermione gazed astounded at the original clock Arthur was at work at the moment, Molly, Harry, and Ginny were all at home. "This. See this." She followed the man's finger as it directed her toward another spoon with Ron's name pointing to Friend's House. "He's not supposed to be here, isn't he? Didn't he die almost exactly three years ago? Before I decided to keep it with the hopeless stuffs, I kept my eye on it for a while, tryin' to fix it. He's spoon's been altering from Home to Friend's House. Hopeless!" he let go as soon as Hermione's hands grabbed hold of it.

"Friend's House? He could be anywhere." She whispered.

"Can I really trust you to hand it back to the Weasleys though? I don't see you as one of the family members."

"I'm a family friend. I have been for years." She assured him. "Hermione Granger, by the way."

"Oh, of course! If you are, then, absolutely!" the man seemed to have turned red, embarrassed.

"Do you know me?"

"When I was studying the clock, I've seen some Weasleys visit your house quite often."

Hermione inspected the clock once more, looking for a spot that says 'Hermione's House' having found none, she turned to the man, "But how did…?"

"Friend's House, my dear. See? Look closely." He pointed at the spot where Ron's spoon was aiming. "Right now, his says Ireland..." at the handle of the spoon appeared the softly etched letters of the place, "that was since after he died. Sometimes, from then on, it'd say Viktor Krum." The man added sounding ridiculed. "But theirs," he pointed at Ginny and Harry's "theirs often said Hermione Granger. Although later on, they did visit Viktor Krum quite often. However, I assume that they go there to visit you. After all, if I'm not mistaken, you are the has-been's wife, aren't you?"

"He's been checking on me?" Hermione pondered while looking at Ron's image on his spoon. It was his picture before he left for Auror Training, and Hermione didn't need to wonder how he looked now. She saw him. He is alive.

"Pardon me?"

Hermione went back from her reverie, "Uh, nothing." She answered still looking a little occupied. "I think you've fixed it well. Please, take it." She prodded him the gold coins on her hand, he accepted finally and Hermione was ready to go.

"Don't go believing he's still alive, dear." The man called and Hermione halted, quite taken aback. "I have this feeling that tells me you and him were something back then. It's a great pain to lose a love one but it's much much pain to live in faith that the love will come back and you end up waiting in vain. The clock's broken." His eyes were gleaming with affection.

Hermione smiled, touched by a stranger's concern. "Don't worry, I guarantee you that I only have my faith on what is real…Real love, for one." She stepped out quietly and apparated back to her empty abode. She stared at Ron's spot on the clock and started to cry. No. Not because she was sad and lonely, nor hurt and in pain, nor tired and restless…Hermione couldn't remember the last time she felt so much happiness. Three nights ago, yes, it was such a moment of bliss to press her face against his chest and hear his heart beating. Alive--he was, and has always been alive.

She wiped her tears, walked into the bedroom and slid the clock underneath the bed. For a couple of minutes, Hermione paced the room, arms crossed before her chest…she was too ecstatic to think, to pick up from the information she got from the clock. Ireland. She doesn't know anyone in Ireland. But he's there. Then her eyes landed on her bedside table. She marched towards it and pulled a blank parchment and quill from the cupboard. Of course. There's someone who could find him and send him her message. She sat and started to scribble the words. Soon enough…


AUTHOR's NOTE:

After ten years…hehehe. Finally, the continuation! Good news is, we have a new PC and I can work out on this one till the end. Bad news is--now's really not the best time to finish some pending fan fictions. I was recently transferred to a different department at work and as much as I want to spend my free time (which is so little, if I might add) on this fic, I need to study the account first and until I'm stable quality player (just how I was at my past department) can I only concentrate on writing the rest of this story. I suppose you're all busy with your own HBP fics, what with our favorite ship's fluffy moments! Heheh or in anticipating the next movie…but like the last words of this chapter. Soon enough. Till then!