The plate of cookies was a mere pile of leftover crumbs by the time the Grangers entered the room again. Mr and Mrs Granger held their daughter between them, as though they were scared she would disappear again. Hermione had tear stains patterns over her cheeks and her eyes were still red and puffy, but in the past year Harry had never seen her so happy. Hermione beamed at them and they returned her smile, something noticed by her parents.
Mr Granger kissed her forehead and walked over to where Ron and Harry were sitting. "Thank you." He said sincerely. "For watching over her and keeping her safe."
Harry avoided Ron's eye. He knew Ron was thinking of the same thing he was: Hermione's screams echoing around them in blackness. Harry looked back to Mr Granger. "She's like my sister, Sir. You don't need to thank me." Mr Granger narrowed his eyes at Harry briefly, before smiling.
"You have it anyway." He then turned to Ron, who winced. "And you Ronald," said Mr Granger, holding out his hand. "You also have my deepest thanks."
Ron's ears skipped red and went straight to scarlet; yet his voice was steady when he replied, "I'll always make sure she's safe, Sir." Mr Granger raised his eyebrows slightly but said nothing. Mrs Granger came up to them still crying with joy.
"Yes boys, we can never thank you enough. You returned her to us." Her voice turned stern "Though of course things could have been handled differently if she had told us what she was going to..."
"Mum!" groaned Hermione, rolling her eyes. "I told you what..." Hermione was cut off when Mrs Granger pulled her into a fiercely tight hug.
"Let's not speak of it again." She said firmly. Hermione nodded and pulled away, gasping for air. Mr Granger looked around the room, as though only now realising where he was.
"I don't know how we're going to explain this when we get back," he sighed. "What will everyone think? We disappear for a year, our daughter becomes none existent then we reappear as a happy family again." He stopped, as though struck by a sudden thought. He rounded on his daughter. "Hermione, how exactly did you set all this up?"
Hermione shrugged.
"Well, your passports and birth certificates were easy enough, just a Mu-"she cleared her throat, "a charm on those prevented people from looking at them too closely, including you. Then it was just making you and mum believe you were someone else and hid all the photos of me. I planted lots of Australian brochures around the house and packed up a few boxes..." she faltered slightly at the incredulous expressions on everyone's faces – Ron's mouth was hanging open – and become very interested in the zipper on her jacket.
"And I assume you can lift those charms you placed and items you've hidden?" her father said sternly. Hermione nodded. Mr Granger looked relieved. "Well we'll start everthing –"
"Dear," Mrs Granger interrupted, "let's discuss this in the morning. There is more important things right now."
Harry thought Mr Granger would protest, but his gaze settled on Hermione and he nodded in agreement.
"Of course."
Harry and Ron shared a significant look and both cleared their throats, loudly.
"Well, err... Ron and I need to go to...err..."
"London," interjected Ron, quickly. "The Ministry of Magic is busy changing and Kingsley wants as many people from Hogwarts there. We should get there." Ron turned to Harry, who quickly backed him up.
"Yeah, I mean, we don't want to intrude and it's a time for family now-" the rest of his sentence was disrupted when Hermione ran towards him and seized his and Ron neck into a tight hug.
"Thank you," she whispered to them, loud enough for only them to hear. Louder she said, "I just need to talk to these two for a minute."
Mrs Granger wiped the tears from her cheek and nodded encouragingly toward the kitchen. "Of course dear, go in there. Your father and I will be right here."
The three of them hurried into the kitchen. It was rather small and most of the room was taken up by a circular dining table, part of it under the breakfast counter to try give more room, but they all squeezed in, careful to shut the door behind them. Harry turned to his friends, to see Hermione and Ron embracing. He sighed, knowing it was just another thing in his life he would have to get used to.
"Thank you," Hermione repeated, tears still spilling from her eyes. "I never could have...your help...you didn't..."
"We know," Harry said gently, smiling. Ron laughed a little, but made up for it by giving Hermione a one-armed hug. "Do you want us to stay?"
"It...well... London," she blurted randomly. "There is so much left to do! I mean, Hogwarts to rebuild and the Ministry of Magic is in pieces and..." she faltered and glanced at Ron, who looked down and his shoes. Harry glanced around too. The funeral for those who died at Hogwarts was happening soon, the last chance to say by to those who died fighting against Voldemort. Harry couldn't think about it for long. Hermione looked back wistfully at the door to the living room. Ron and Harry could hardly not notice the longing gaze.
"Hermione, stay here for a few days. We'll come for you when – when it happens. Stay with your parents, relax. Hell, you earned it." Hermione looked at Ron who nodded encouragingly.
"It's ok," he assured her. "Stay, we'll be fine." He studied his watch. "It's about two in the morning in England anyway. Stay a few days, like Harry said, we'll come get you." He kissed her – Harry looked away – and then said, "Besides, it's too early to meet your parents."
Hermione giggled and even Harry laughed.
"We'll be at the Burrow if you need us," said Ron, disengaging himself from Hermione and shuffling over to Harry's side. "You'll be fine. You're safer here than anywhere else. Not even You-know-Demort could find them here."
It was the first time he'd called Voldemort anything close to his name. Hermione's eyebrows rose under her hair; Harry was equally astonished but let the moment pass. He leaned forward to hug Hermione, whispered goodbye and hurried out the back door, letting Ron and Hermione have some privacy. In the back garden he revelled in the fresh air, the calmness of the outside. Barely a minute passed before Ron joined him, a little scarlet in the face, but he grinned at Harry who led them around to the front of the house.
In the garden they looked back. It was as though they'd stepped into another world. Looking at the house from out here it seemed so peaceful, so quiet – just a regular house on just another street. Harry watched a small family hurry along the path past the house: a mother running after a young boy who was yelling frantically and pointing at an ice-cream van at the next intersection; his sister was walking beside their father, reaching into a bag of shells and putting each one to her ear, no matter how small. The family hurried past, not even registering the two boys standing the in the front garden of the house. Not even an inclination, that behind its walls a family reunion was happening.
Harry sighed and turned to Ron, who was staring longingly at the door.
"She'll be fine," Harry assured him, walking down the small path. Ron heaved a deep sigh and followed him down the path. He looked like he wanted to talk, but he glanced back at the house, sighed again and said, "So, The Burrow?"