Hermione followed George down the stairs of the Burrow and out onto the back porch. The cluster of wellington boots was much smaller than she remembered it being, and she pressed her lips together. Nothing ever doesn't change; she would do well to remember that until she didn't need to anymore.

The sounds of people gathered for a party were crystalline and clear, the sharp high laughter of children ringing loud like a tuning fork. The sun was lower on the horizon, the shadows longer and more augmented compared to when she had arrived. When they rounded the corner of the house into the garden, George walking a half-step in front of her, Hermione saw a large group of people gathering to eat at a long, rickety-looking picnic table.

There was Harry and Ron, the little blonde girl from earlier, familiar redheads, unfamiliar bodies. Green countryside, rolling hills, the drifting perfume of the blue and lilac-spackled hydrangeas.

And it was chaos.

"Hermione!"

"Dad, can I have –"

"Auntie Mi!"

"Dad, you're not listening, can I please -"

"Pass the rolls!"

"Mine!"

"Will you stop it, for Merlin's sake -"

"Non, tu dois manger les legumes ou pas de gateau -"

It was an overwhelming wave – a tsunami, really – of instant information absorption, something Hermione hadn't really thought about. Her brain started putting pieces together despite the fact that her feet had come to a complete and abrupt halt a few long strides from the table.

A few things were apparent to Hermione in less than a breath, the biggest thing being that four years was apparently quite a long time, as a lot had changed overnight.

Fleur was reasoning with the blonde girl about eating her vegetables before she got a slice of Harry's birthday cake while Bill was wrestling a little boy into an old carved highchair. Teddy was diligently separating the ripe grape tomatoes from the rest of his pasta salad while his father provided a little girl in springy pigtails fresh green beans to munch on. Percy was lecturing on something, his fork tines punctuating his statements in a way that reminded Hermione instantly of an orchestra conductor, and meanwhile, Daphne was angled in the opposite direction chatting with a lady Hermione didn't recognize in the slightest. Charlie was sneaking fingerfuls of cake icing when Molly wasn't looking, and gave Hermione a cheeky wink and eyebrow wiggle when she spotted him and narrowed her eyes automatically.

Small people, big people.

Children and friends.

Strangers.

Family.

"Hermione!"

"Hello!" she called out, giving a somewhat tight little wave of the hand when everyone had realized she was indeed there, craning necks to look.

"We're here!" George bellowed loudly, drawing attention to himself and catching a racing Victoire under her arms as she hurdled for a shocked looking Hermione. He swung her up high, distracting her from the newcomer, her shriek of happiness ringing out over the grassy hills.

"Victoire, ici," Fleur scolded. "You 'ave not feenished your supper."

"There's a seat for you here," Harry called out. There was a great shuffling and kerfuffle but in the end the table made a rather large spot for Hermione near the quieter end of the table.

Hermione walked tentatively around the table to the open spot, smiling as widely as she could at the familiar faces that soothed the welts of her mind and lost memory. Gently and just as tentatively, hands reached out for her as she passed, clasping her fingers and hands momentarily and reassuring her. Her heart felt as if it was expanding, pushing, pressing against her ribcage, ballooning out from between the bones and ligaments and cartilage –

"Hi," she rasped out as she stepped over the bench seat and settled next to Ron.

"How are you?" Ginny asked, pushing her flaming hair out of her face and behind an ear.

The silence of the table was wholly contradictory to what she had walked into and she looked up, startled.

"Oi!" George's voice from right behind her made her jump in her seat.

The table clattered back to life as people went back to their meals and conversations hastily, and Hermione fought the urge to laugh as she spotted Remus' cheeks flare up in embarrassment in being caught amongst the eavesdroppers.

George slid into the open spot next to Hermione and she shuffled over, realising that in the shift the table had not left another spot open.

Her heart clenched tightly, spasmodically, and her stomach fluttered briefly before bottoming out entirely. George's leg moved, brushing hers fleetingly and Hermione glanced down for a moment, noting the end of his wand sticking out of his pocket.

"I'm -" her voice caught in her throat as she looked back up quickly. "As well as can be, I suppose."

Ginny nodded and passed her a bowl of green salad.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Hermione leaned forward and grinned at her friend on the other side of the redhead.

"What did you get me?" he asked casually, looking around for a gift she might have brought and Ginny laughed, smacking his thigh lightly. "Just kidding, Hermione. You're the best birthday gift," he finished with a simper and Ron gagged on his mouthful of food.

Fred barked out a laugh and Molly narrowed her eyes from the other side of the table amongst the children.

"Shut your gob, Harry, you're going to make me sick," Bill laughed.

Hermione tuned out the cacophonous miscellany of clatter and watched as people threw theirs heads back in laughter, handed bowls and plates up and down the table, wrangled small children, ribbed and teased each other, elbowed each other, and grinned.

Family.

She had everything she needed right here.

Hermione finished her dinner feeling very much like she was in an impenetrable bubble, one that hushed the noises around her as she ate and continued to watch her surroundings quietly. The sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky, the light hot and intense on her back as the angle grew more acute.

"Anyone for a coffee with cake?" Molly called out and there was a smattering of answers and soon there was a French press being magiked along the bench followed by a sugar bowl and cream. The massive white frosted cake that Charlie had been swiping from earlier was decked in candles and the group sang Harry a rousing good version of a birthday song before he blew the flames out so hard his hair flopped forward.

Hermione laughed and clapped helped hand generous helpings of cake down to the other end.

She was full, stuffed, and not just form the food.

The energy of being around people she knew she loved and who loved her in return, where no one was asking what she remembered and didn't remember, where no one was asking her to prove she was still Hermione just a different Hermione –

She felt some colour start to trickle back into her life.

"You alright?" George leaned a fraction closer and caught her eye. "You're a bit -"

He motioned at her face vaguely and Hermione raised her palms to feel her warm cheeks. Her blood pumped happily through her veins, moving more quickly than it had done since she had woken up in St. Mungo's.

"Yes, I'm just -" her voice caught "- warm."

George grinned.


The sun had set and, like a blanket, the cooler air began to toss their hair and shirt flaps gently. Summer nights were one of the things that seem to make most people happy, even if they didn't realise it.

The hot stifling air of the day was brushed away by cooler breezes and everyone gave a great sigh of relief. It was still warm enough that no one needed to go inside or get a sweater but everything became a lot more bearable. Twinkle lights that looked an awful lot like live fireflies drifted more brightly around the back yard and Hermione eventually left the table to wander the perimeter of the garden.

Some people remained at the table, some were playing with children, and Fred had fallen asleep in the middle of the grass. George was leaning over his face with Teddy and taking advantage of his twin's temporary weakness, his broad shoulders shielding both their sinister plans and Teddy's quiet giggling.

When she arrived at the patch of sunflowers, there was still the remnants of a gentle heat emanating from them from the daytime sun. As Hermione reached out and brushed the nearest furry stalk, she felt someone behind her.

"We're so glad you came, Hermione," Arthur offered her a genuine smile, which she returned, and he pulled her to his side gently.

"I am too," she nodded, and turned back to the flowers, his arm still warm at her shoulder blades.

The pair stood in silence, the party behind them winding down.

Family.

She had everything she needed right here.

Or –

Perhaps she had everything she needed right here inside her.


A/N: HI.

I'm back.

I'm doing a raffle over on tumblr to clean out my drabble wips so go check that out.

I'm also always up for aesthetics requests in my ask box.

I'm gonna keep ploughing away at this, okay, because I heart it.

Thank you thank you thank you to absolutely everyone who has read, reviewed, favourited etc and sent messages on here and tumblr in the last little bit. You guys rock. (side note I cannot believe we hit over 300 reviews already?)

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