Time is the coin of your life.

It is the only coin you have, and only you can determine how it will be spent.

Be careful lest you let other people spend it for you.

Carl Sandburg


The three of us walked through The Leaky Cauldron and out into Muggle London. Each year the first night of my summer holiday was celebrated by going out to the best Italian restaurant in London. We strolled down the streets talking and catching up on life and all the small events that are only of significance to close friends.

Over dinner we got a bit more serious as Harry let loose his frustrations. "I have had it with all the pomp and circumstance at the Ministry. It's like nothing gets done except shaking hands and smiling for some newspaper or another's photographer. I don't actually do anything. It's like I'm their prize trophy that they send about. I'm bored and annoyed." He nearly flung some chicken cacciatore across the dining room as he vented to us.

"Harry, what do you want to do? You've spent your entire youth and adult life thus far doing what others want of you. You're a grown up. If you aren't happy, do something about it!" I scolded him.

"Right, mate. Besides, we don't want to hear you keep blubbering on about how miserable you are," Ron compassionately answered while managing to keep most of the food in his mouth from falling out back to his plate. When will that boy ever learn table manners?

Harry glared at us, then shrugged. "I guess you're right. I just don't know what I want to do. All I know is I don't want to be in the spotlight any more. That's why I love coming out here." Harry liked when we went out to Muggle London instead of Magic London. Muggles have no clue who we are so we blend in with the crowd. Ron doesn't mind as there is enough of his father in him to find some aspects of Muggle life fascinating. I tend to like Muggle restaurants best and as I like to wear Muggle clothes on break, I spend quite a bit shopping in places beyond Diagon Alley.

"I suppose that rules out Quidditch, though coach has been trying to get you on the Cannons for years," Ron though out loud.

"No way am I doing Quidditch, I want to live as quietly and privately as possible, Ron. You'll have to be the famous one now," Harry replied. Ron was quickly becoming well known for his Quidditch skills which developed even more as he left behind the awkward teen years.

"I don't have a quick answer for you, Harry, but I'm sure you'll find something soon to keep you happy and out of trouble," I laughed as I said that. The boys looked at me quizzically so I explained a bit of my conversation with Minerva.

"We did not get into that much trouble!" Ron defended himself.

"Ronald, the first time we ever got along with each other was while a mountain troll destroyed the girls' lavatory and Harry got his wand stuck up said troll's nose. That was simple compared to all the other mishaps and adventures the three of us managed to find over the next few years," I responded back. "We are magnates for trouble. Well, you and Harry are. I seem to merely be sucked into the trouble along with you."

Harry laughed at this. "Ron, you should know better than to argue with 'Mione. You know she is always right." He smirked at me as I swatted at his shoulder.

We continued reminiscing about our past adventures for quite some time. Luckily, the restaurant was owned by true Italians who never minded us staying much longer at our table. As we were regulars, the owners knew us and treated us well. Quite often we would get a bit of special treatment, not because of our 'hero' status, but merely because we were three young people enjoying life. Angelo and Bessie, I have no idea what her full name was, treated us as their own grandchildren. It was rare we got away with just one dessert.

After we finished eating we wandered through town a bit talking and laughing. It was good to unwind and enjoy adult conversation. I love my students, but there is only so much of the kids I can take. First years that are home sick or fighting over treats brought from Hogsmeade by older siblings can drive me batty. I get annoyed with the sixth years that take the year off mentally and focus instead on gossip and the opposite sex. The seventh years that alternate between the inflated egos of being the oldest to the fear of NEWTs can put me right over the edge. By the end of the year, I crave being a normal young adult and talking about things unrelated to Hogwarts. Yes, I, the bookworm and professor, can reach a point where I can't take any more school. The boys continue to be amazed by this fact.

When we returned to the flat it was near midnight. Ron decided to go to sleep as he had an early practice.

"I don't have to work tomorrow. How about watching a DVD?" Harry asked.

"Sounds good to me." Since we both were raised by Muggles we kept many Muggle items around the flat. A DVD player, TV, refrigerator, and blender were just a few. Mr. Weasley always loved coming over to play with them.

"Since we're still celebrating the end of term, it is your choice," Harry declared. "First, why don't we go change?" Harry and I each headed to our bedrooms to change. He came out in sweats and an old shirt. I came out in pajama bottoms and a tank top. Once more comfortably attired for a few hours on the sofa we grabbed some Butterbeer from the fridge and made our way to the sofa.

I perused our extensive DVD collection. Though it took him a year or two, Ron mastered the DVD player and now even he contributes to the collection. I pull out two options knowing very well that Harry will veto one of them. "Which would you prefer, BBC's Pride and Prejudice or Clue?" The five hour version of Pride and Prejudice is one of my favorites and I love to torture the boys by threatening to force them to watch it every time we watch a film. Clue is an odd American comedy which Harry and I both love. Ron usually does not quite get the humor.

"Clue, definitely." Harry rolls his eyes at me.

We put in the movie and settle into the sofa to watch. Within a few minutes the fatigue of the school year catches up to me. I begin to utilize Harry as a pillow. My head is on his shoulder and his arm wraps around me. It is nice to feel safe. Enough of the memories from the war still haunt me that I value the feeling of safety and protection Harry and Ron offer me. I don't think they realize it, but they are my rocks. At times like this I think of how lucky I am to have two such best friends. With that last conscious thought I fade away into a very solid sleep.

I must have slept very soundly. I woke up the next morning in my own bed. After glancing at the clock, I smile. Ten in the morning. Again, not a typical move for the Hermione known around Hogwarts. I have learned to sleep in since my days as a student. After all, I don't often get to indulge my self at school. I go to brush my teeth and pull my hair back into a ponytail. Deciding I was not going to kill anyone with morning breath, I ventured out of my room.

Harry was humming as he was making breakfast. I realized it was the smell of eggs, sausages, and something sweet in the oven that must have drew me out of my slumber.

"That smells wonderful, Harry." He jumped. "'Mione, you startled me!"

"Well, now we're even."

Harry made breakfast quite often for the three of us. He was hopeless in regards to any other meal, but he excelled at breakfast. He once explained, "The Dursleys made me cook breakfast for them so I learned how. I hated it then because I had to do it. Now I like to cook for you two and this is all I know."

He handed me a mug of coffee. I went to the refrigerator for some milk to put in it. Then I sat at the table, stirring in the sugar, and slowly finishing the process of waking up. One of the ways to tell if you are truly good friends with someone is whether you can sit in silence, wearing beat up old pajamas, looking like a small animal made a nest in your hair, and the other person does not mind. Actually, that description applied to both Harry and I. His hair was possibly worse than mine, but being shorter, it wasn't quite as noticeable.

Once the food was done and the muffins that were in the oven were ready, we both dug into our breakfast. Not much was said. Neither of us was particularly chipper in the morning.

Right around the time I was polishing off the second muffin, a tap was heard at the window. Not recognizing thee owl, Harry got up to let it in. I thought it was just delivering the paper. However, it was a letter for Harry.

He took the letter, sat down, and read it. As he made his way through it, I was amused watching his facial expressions. They switched between astonishment, amusement, puzzlement, and the far off look he gets when thinking about something of importance. Knowing he would talk when he was ready, I refilled both our mugs of coffee.

Finally he finished reading the letter. I think he read it a few times through. He continued to stare into space for a few minutes and I continued to sip my coffee. Finally he came back to reality.

"Hermione, I think I just figured out what I want to do. And the best part is that I will have the next month free."