All right, story, make a liar out of me. I know I said there would only be two epilogues to this story, but there will actually be three. There were three scenes that I just couldn't fit into this epilogue; one of them could quite easily be moved to the beginning of War of the Prophecy instead, but the other two needed to be in this story.

So, there'll be one extra epilogue, which is 95% written as we speak and should be posted sometime next week. I hope you're not too disappointed.

Oh, and while I have your attention… thanks for all the supportive reviews, everyone! I'm really grateful for your kind words concerning Ronnie's dawning self-realisation, and glad to know that so many of you decided to continue following the story.

With all that said, time for the penultimate epilogue:

WEASLEY GIRL: SECRETS OF THE PAST

Based on the Harry Potter stories by J. K. Rowling

EPILOGUE TWO:
It Just Makes You Alone

Hermione pulled her Muggle coat a little tighter around herself as she along with Neville, Colin and Luna, stepped out of the pleasant warmth of the Hogwarts Express and into the chill of Platform Nine-And-Three-Quarters.

Students were pouring out of the train, with luggage and winter coats, ready to meet their families and start the Christmas holidays. Already the usual large and extremely unorganized queue was forming by the ticket barrier, where the wizened old guard was letting them out through the gate in small groups, so they wouldn't attract too much attention from the Muggles by showing up all at once.

Potter's Gang — minus Harry, Ronnie and Ginny, but plus Luna Lovegood who had opted to share their compartment for the journey — had to their relief had a perfectly uneventful train journey.

"For some reason," said Neville, keeping his voice low, "I kept waiting for Malfoy to stop by our compartment and start threatening or mocking. I suppose we're not very fun targets when Harry and Ronnie aren't here."

"Either that, or he had other things on his mind," said Hermione. "Didn't you notice the letter he got at breakfast yesterday?"

"Er — no."

"Well, I did. Whatever it was, he has been looking rather sulky ever since."

They had just enough time to spot Malfoy in front of the queue, together with Crabbe and Goyle as usual, and looking extremely sour-faced, before the guard waved the three of them through the gate, and they vanished from sight.

"He did look pretty crabby," said Colin. "D'you think it has to do with his father? That meeting with the Headmaster and all?"

"I think it has to do with his socks," said Luna serenely. "I have a theory that wearing the wrong socks can affect your mood terribly. I've noticed that Ronnie tends to be extra chipper when she wears pink socks... Why are you looking at me like that?" she added, looking at Hermione.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something about how this was the biggest load of nonsense she had ever heard, but then — for once in her life — thought better of it. "Never mind."

Luna nodded. "Consider it never-minded."

They all joined the queue and waited patiently for their turn to pass through the gate and into the Muggle world, where their parents would be waiting for them.

Hermione was both looking forward to seeing her parents again, and at the same time deeply dreading it. She had spent days trying to think of what to say to them.

She knew she couldn't keep the story of the basilisk or of Tom Riddle from them. Not because they had been so angry the last time they found out she'd been hiding the dangers of Hogwarts from them — Hermione was of the firm belief that parents did not need to know everything that their teenage children got up to — but because Tom Riddle could be dangerous to them. Everyone know how much Voldemort hated Muggles and Muggle-borns, and unfortunately both the current Voldemort and the sixteen-year-old version knew who she was and that her parents were Muggles.

Harry's Aunt and Uncle hadn't been safe; how safe would Hermione's parents be?

Keeping them ignorant was directly irresponsible. When it came to Voldemort, she had to agree with Mad-Eye Moody: Ignorance is death.

The problem was that if she did tell her parents all this, they might decide to get difficult and force her to leave Hogwarts. At the beginning of the year, she'd told Ronnie of the huge fight she'd had with them; how they thought Hogwarts did not sound like a safe place, and how she'd had to fight to convince them that last year's fight with Voldemort was the exception and not the rule… but really, it had been more than that.

It was something that the rest of Potter's Gang wouldn't understand, not really. Ronnie, Ginny and Neville, who had grown up in the wizarding world, certainly wouldn't get it. Even Harry, who had grown up in the Muggle world but hated his Muggle guardians, probably wouldn't. And as for Colin… wasn't certain about him, actually. He was Muggle-born, but he was so… young. And he didn't seem to have any problems with his Muggle family.

The problem was that Hermione's parents had not liked the wizarding world very much. Oh, they were fine with magic — it had been a relief to find out that all the strange things that had happened around Hermione when she was little had an explanation.

What they hadn't liked was the intolerance. From the looks of contempt and patronising from even the politer wizards, to the sheer hatred and bile directed at them at Diagon Alley. Just because they were Muggles. That wizard who had yelled at them in Gringotts had only been the tip of the iceberg. Of course, they had accepted that not all wizards were like that, and Hermione's friends were good, people, but… there had been the unspoken question: Are these wizards really a good influence on our daughter? Do we really want her to turn out like them — dismissing or even hating people just because they don't have magic?

Add this to the fear that Hogwarts might actually be a dangerous place for Hermione to be, and you got a very deep reluctance to let her return there at all. A reluctance that it had taken Hermione ages of pleading and convincing and solemn promises that she would be careful, to get them to overcome.

At these times she wished she had a magical adult in her life that she could talk to. Someone who understood, someone who could listen and give advice and maybe even be able to talk to her parents with the reassuring words that Hermione herself couldn't find.

It couldn't be Ronnie's parents, no matter how much Ronnie offered. Arthur and Molly Weasley were nice enough, but they really only knew the wizarding world, despite Arthur's interest in the Muggle one.

She had considered one of the teachers, but none of them really seemed to fit the bill. With the possible exception of Professor Dumbledore, who probably would understand, and no doubt could find the right words… but she had barely seen him at all since the day of the basilisk. He was probably making preparations and gathering allies and friends to stop Tom Riddle, and that of course had to take priority.

No — she had to face the facts. There was no-one she could turn to. She'd have to deal with her parents herself.

Finally, it was their group's turn to step through the barrier. The guard waved them through, and Hermione walked out through the gate together with Neville, Colin and Luna. They came out by the barrier between platform Nine and Ten, and into the crowded Muggle part of King's Cross.

Hermione scanned the crowd for her parents. They'd be here somewhere, among all the other parents here to pick up their children and take them home for the holidays. Some of the faces were familiar; there was Neville's grandmother — Hermione had only met the woman once before, but she would recognise that hat anywhere — and that tall, blond man with the dotty appearance could only be here for Luna.

"Daddy!" Luna squealed in joy. She stormed up to the blond man and threw her arms around him.

"Oh, there's my Dad too! And Dennis!" Colin pointed. "Hi, Dad! Hi, Dennis!" He waved frantically at a man in a worn letter jacket and a little boy who was wearing a much-too-big coat, both of whom were hurrying towards him.

Neville was slightly less enthusiastic than Luna and Colin. "Hi, Gran," he said as she approached.

"Neville," Mrs. Longbottom nodded in greeting, looking at him with a critical eye. "You've lost weight. I hear you've been getting into some trouble this semester? Fighting a basilisk, was it?"

"Er." Neville swallowed nervously. "The thing is — I was just —"

"Good!" Mrs. Longbottom gave him a hearty pat on the back, which almost knocked him over. "Excellent, Neville! Finally, you're starting to show some of that Longbottom spirit! Your father would be proud!"

"I — didn't really do a whole lot," Neville muttered, looking like he would rather be anywhere else.

"Of course you didn't," his grandmother said with a slight shake of her head. "But it's a start. You're coming into your own. These are your friends, I presume?"

"Yeah." Neville tried to smile. "Gran, this is Hermione, and Colin — oh, and Luna." (He indicated Luna, who was still hugging her father.)

"Pleasure to meet you," said Mrs. Longbottom. "Yes. Neville has told me all about you, of course — when he remembered to write, that is. He's a good boy, my Neville, but I do wish he would remember to send a letter to his old Gran a little more often."

"Er…" Neville winched.

"Really, Xenophilius," Mrs. Longbottom said, turning towards Luna and her father, who were still hugging. "There is no need to create such a spectacle."

Luna's father, whose name was apparently Xenophilius, smiled pleasantly at her. "It's not every day you get to welcome home a girl who's caught a murderer!"

"All I did was capture a rat who wasn't a rat, Daddy," said Luna. "I didn't know he was a murderer."

"Never mind, love. Many of the world's biggest discoveries have been made by people who didn't know what they were about to discover." Xenophilius stroked her hair. "I hope you're willing to make a few statements for The Quibbler about what happened?"

"Of course, Daddy!"

"That's my girl."

Hermione felt an unexpected pang of envy. Both Luna and Neville had guardians who understood — who were proud of them. Of course she loved her own parents and wouldn't want to swap them out for anything, but…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the little boy who had been jumping up and down beside Colin. "I'm Dennis!" he said. "Are you all witches? I've never seen a witch before! Is it fun being a witch? Colin says it's fun being a wizard! Hello, I'm Dennis! Where's Harry Potter? I wanted to meet Harry Potter!"

"Harry had to go to his Aunt's funeral," Colin explained. "I'll tell you all about him, though. He's really cool! Everyone's really cool! Hermione, here, she found out how to fight a basilisk!"

"That is so cool!" said Dennis in complete awe. "What's a basilisk?"

"It's a huge snake that's really poisonous," said Colin. "And if it looks directly at you, you die! So we had to wear blindfolds, and that was Hermione's idea too —"

"You're the coolest person ever!" Dennis squeaked to Hermione. "Hello, I'm Dennis! You must be really smart! I'm going to be a wizard too, aren't I, Colin? Is it true that wizards fly on broomsticks? In all the cartoons, only witches fly on broomsticks! Are wizards really witches?"

"Now, now, Dennis." The man who had to be their father placed a calm hand on the boy's shoulders. Unlike his sons, Mr. Creevey spoke slowly and calmly, as if he thought about each sentence before saying it. "This isn't the sort of thing we talk about in public. Remember the nice man from the school telling us about that?"

"Oh!" Dennis looked guilty. "I'm sorry, I forgot. It's just so cool though! Too bad Colin's camera was ruined! I really wanted to see the pictures! But you'll tell me everything, won't you Colin?"

Dennis, Hermione quickly decided, was like an extreme caricature of Colin somehow given life. He was even smaller, more eager, more talkative, and less capable of standing still. She wondered if he really was a wizard — as far as she knew, it was rare for more than one wizard or witch to be born into a Muggle family (Petunia Dursley hadn't been a witch, and Dean Thomas apparently had a number of sisters back home who were Muggles), but it did happen on occasion.

"We should get going," said Mr. Creevey. "What do you say we find a place to have dinner, and then Colin can tell us all about his term."

"Hermione's parents aren't here yet, though," said Colin. "We can't just leave her alone here, Dad —"

"Hermione!" a voice called from further down — and there, right on cue and making her way through the crowd, was Hermione's mother.

Hermione let out a breath that she hadn't even been aware that she was holding. Seconds later, she found herself wrapped up in a tight embrace.

"Thank God you're all right," her mother said. "Your father and I have been so worried!"

"Mum, I'm — I'm fine," said Hermione. "I've just been to school, it's no big deal…"

"Just been to school!" Her mother held her out at arm's length. "Are you aware that we had a reporter from the wizard newspaper visit us at home? Asking us whether we approved that you were fighting monsters at school?"

"I — what?" Hermione gasped. All the long speeches she had composed in her head and half-rejected all vanished from her mind. Her parents already knew?!

"We're going to have serious talk about this when we come home, young lady!" Her mother's voice had turned from relieved to stern. "Your father and I already told you that if you got into any more danger at that school —"

"Excuse me." Xenophilius Lovegood, still with Luna clinging to him, looked at her. "Who was the reporter that came to see you?"

What? Er — Skeeter, I think she said her name was. Rita Skeeter." Hermione's mother looked at Xenophilius's purple overcoat with some disdain.

"Oh, the Daily Prophet," said Xenophilius dismissively. "My dear madam, you mustn't listen to anything they say. That newspaper only prints lies, cover-up stories, and sensationalist rubbish designed to distract its readers away from the truth."

"For once, Xeno, you're absolutely right," said Mrs. Longbottom. "I had that Rita Skeeter at my home the other day, snooping around for gossip stories about my Neville and Potter's Gang. Tired of always being thrown out on her ear by the Weasleys, I presume. Trying different targets."

"Oh? What did you tell her?" Xenophilius looked at her with interest.

"I told her to get lost unless she wanted me to fuse those silly glasses of hers permanently to her face, of course!" said Mrs. Longbottom, and turned back to Hermione's mother. "Mrs. Granger, I presume. I'm Augusta Longbottom. My grandson is in your daughter's year, and he's had nothing but good things to say about her. Isn't that right, Neville?"

"What? Yes!" Neville said. "Hermione's absolutely brilliant!"

"She really is," Colin shot in, giving Hermione a winning smile. "I'm Colin — Colin Creevey."

"And I'm Dennis!" said Dennis, who seemed to think that no introduction round would be complete unless it included him.

"Hermione's ace," Colin continued. "She's the smartest person I've met!"

Luna, who had untangled herself from her father, looked up at Hermione's mother with dreamy eyes. "I just had a very nice conversation with your daughter about socks," she offered.

"Er — what do socks have to do with anything?" said Neville.

"Socks are important," said Luna. "Obviously you can't talk to just anybody about socks. Aren't we saying nice things about Hermione so that her mother will understand that people like her?"

Hermione's mother looked at Luna. Then she looked at Neville, Colin, and even Dennis. And a small hope blossomed inside Hermione again. Of course — the one thing that had tipped the scale and made her parents agree to send her back to Hogwarts: The fact that she was, for the first time in her life, she was making friends.

She hadn't had any friends before Hogwarts. She had been the darling of her schoolteachers with her exemplary behaviour and top marks, but the other children had not been impressed. She knew her parents were worried that she didn't get along with her peers, but other children were so… stupid and mean. Two years ago, you wouldn't have found even one child around Hermione's age who would be willing to say something nice about her.

But at Hogwarts, it was different. Over the last one-and-a-half year, she'd got Ronnie, and Harry and Neville. And then Ginny, and Colin, and Ronnie's brothers. People she enjoyed spending time with, people she wrote letters to over the Summer and even got replies from.

And now, seeing some of those friends singing Hermione's praises — even if one of them was doing so in a very weird way — her mother was softening a little.

"You won't take Hermione away, will you?" said Luna. "Everyone would be very sad if she wasn't going to come back to Hogwarts. I think Hermione would be the most sad of all."

"I —" Hermione's mother looked at the girl, then at Hermione. "I'm very glad you're making friends, Hermione. And your father and I don't want to take you away from them. But we just… we have to think about what's best for you, and I'm not certain —"

"Excuse me." Mr. Creevey had stood and listened to everything, and now he was looking at Hermione's mother. "I couldn't help but overhear. Largely because I was standing right here and listening in on a conversation that really had nothing to do with me. But I would like to tell you a story."

"A story?" Hermione's mother looked at him, looking about as startled as Hermione felt.

"Two years ago," said Mr. Creevey, "my boy Dennis was almost hit by a car."

"I'm Dennis," Dennis added helpfully.

"It happened just outside our home," Mr. Creevey went on. "I still remember it. I had taken the boys out for a walk. Dennis was running ahead, when a car showed up like out of nowhere. I didn't even have the time to call out. Colin, however, did. And just as he called out…" Mr. Creevey paused for a moment, either for dramatic effect or because he was overwhelmed by the memories. "The car that was headed straight for Dennis, instead of hitting him, jumped over him. They were both completely unharmed."

Hermione stared at Colin. How was it possible that someone so fond of talking hadn't even once mentioned that he had once, without even knowing he was a wizard, performed what sounded like an impressive Levitation Charm, and saved his brother from being hit by a car?

At her look, Colin just shrugged.

"Magic saved my youngest son's life," said Mr. Creevey. "Maybe Hogwarts isn't a safe place. But the world isn't a safe place. Our children are lucky enough to have been born with a gift. They have an extra weapon they can use to defend themselves, and others. We can't teach them how to use that weapon, but Hogwarts can. I don't know, seems irresponsible to not let them do that."

Hermione's mother paused at that. Then, she sighed. "I understand what you're saying, Mister…?"

"Creevey."

"Mister Creevey," she agreed. "But It's not the education I have a problem with, it's everything surrounding that education."

"You can't mollycoddle your children all their lives," said Mrs. Longbottom, patting Neville so hard on the shoulder that he almost lost his balance. "If you don't let them fight their own battles, they'll never learn to survive on their own! Sheltering them from everything isn't going to do them any favours, am I right, Neville?"

"Er — yes, Gran." Neville didn't seem completely convinced.

But Hermione's mother shook her head. "I wasn't talking about the danger… though I still don't like the sound of those monsters."

Mrs. Longbottom looked at her. "What is it, then?"

"I —" Hermione's mother began, but then seemed to think better of it. "On second thought, it really isn't my place to say. We've been standing here for far too long as it is. Come along, Hermione, we'll talk more about this at home —"

"Speak your mind, woman!" Mrs. Longbottom ordered. "In for a Knut, in for a Galleon!"

Hermione's mother met her eyes. "Very well," she finally said. "You speak of sheltering? You may not see it, but that's exactly what you're doing to your children. Sheltering them — isolating them, even — from the outside world. They stay in their little world of magic and ignore everything that goes on outside it."

"That's what Professor Flamel warned us about," said Neville. He blinked and then blushed slightly as everyone turned to look at him. "I — I just remembered something," he said.

"You're right, Neville!" said Hermione. "Mum, Professor Flamel, or new Potions teacher, said that exact thing. He said we shouldn't — shouldn't doom ourselves to remain the ignorant and insignificant minority."

"Well." Mrs. Longbottom said. "It seems this is a conversation we should be having elsewhere. You are quite right, my dear lady, we have been standing here for far too long. Tell me," she looked at both Hermione's mother and Mr. Creevey. "Do you both live in London?"

"Well, yes," said Mr. Creevey. "The boys and I have a flat in Islington."

"Our family lives in Hampstead," Hermione offered.

"Excellent," said Mrs. Longbottom. "Neville and I live in Lancashire, but that's no distance to a witch. What do you say we pay you a visit sometime during the holidays? We can discuss school safety and isolation then."

"That sounds interesting," said Mr. Lovegood. "Could we impose as well? The holidays are so quiet after my wife died… Luna and I haven't gone visiting in a long time."

"It really sounds like a good idea," said Hermione. "Please, Mum? It won't hurt to just talk, will it? You don't know any wizards other than the Weasleys… wouldn't it help to get to know a few more? And Mr. Creevey's a Muggle, too, he knows what it's like to have a magical child."

Hermione's mother looked at them all. And then, to Hermione's relief, she laughed. "All right, Little Miss Precocious, I give in," she told Hermione. Then, she looked at the other adults. "I'll have to talk to my husband, of course, but… what day could we have you over?"

Hermione felt a small sense of relief. Her mother wasn't completely convinced, she could tell, but the way things were going there was a good chance that her parents would let her return to Hogwarts anyway. There would probably be a few more lectures, and Hermione would need to make more promises… but with any luck, she would be back with her friends at Hogwarts, come the new year.

As the adults began discussing which day they could meet, she exchanged glances with Neville, Colin and Luna.

"D'you think it'll be okay?" said Colin.

"You know… I think it will," said Hermione. "This was exactly what Professor Flamel was talking about. If wizards and Muggles don't talk, they'll never learn to understand each other. Maybe this'll start something."

"Like what?" said Dennis, who was looking at them with big eyes.

"Like…" Hermione thought about it. "Maybe a little more contact between parents of Muggle-borns and the rest of the wizarding world? Tom Riddle was wrong — standing alone doesn't make you stronger. It just makes you alone."

TO BE CONTINUED (For the last time, I promise)…

Author's Notes: This is the last we see of Hermione, Neville, Colin and Luna in this particular story, but they'll all be back for War of the Prophecy. The meeting between their parents and guardians might have some interesting consequences in that story…

Rita Skeeter will keep making trouble as well. In this story she was really only in the background; I kept wanting to give her an actual appearance but couldn't fit her in. She'll make a full-fledged appearance in the first chapter of War of the Prophecy, though, and her sensationalist scandal articles will continue to stir up trouble.

The next chapter, which will be the final one this time, I promise, marks the first appearance of a fan-favourite character in the Weasley Girl universe. Shouldn't be too hard to figure out who that character is.

Oh, and finally: Apparently, Weasley Girl made the list of "15 Craziest Harry Potter Fan Fictions Of All Time" at TheThings-dot-com — alongside both really good stories like Hogwarts Houses Divided or Like A Redheaded Stepchild, so bad-they're-good ones like My Immortal, and… "special" stories like Methods of Rationality.

I'm not sure how they judge "craziness" here (no way anything I write is half as crazy as My Immortal), but it's flattering to be included all the same!