CHAPTER TWELVE: SHE WAS

Hermione hit a hardwood floor in a very dark room. There were embers burning on the hearth, but that was the only thing she could see.

A door opened behind her, and a short, bald, ugly and old creature was bustling around her with a feather duster in his hand, muttering horrendous swear words under his breath.

"Mudblood girl is back, beseeching the house of my mistress. Filthy. She actually reproduced with that other lewd, no-good…"

"Nice to know nothing's changed, Kreature." Hermione said, menace dripping from her voice. Her ties disappeared. She got to her feet, feeling nothing of the sympathy she used to feel for the house elf. She had not seen this wretched nuisance since before Harry admitted to her, with absolute revulsion in his voice and eyes, that Kreature had played a big part in Sirius's death. She had stopped feeling so compassionate when Harry had mentioned how Kreature had laughed as he relayed the story to Dumbledore, and now understood just why Harry wanted to see the elf suffer a painful death. However, she stopped herself from crossing the floor and doing what Harry had obviously yet to accomplish, and instead sat herself down in the moth-eaten chair that she had found by the light the elf had lit.

She felt like she had sat there for hours, but in reality, it was only a half hour or so before the fire on the hearth burst into full life and a dark, lanky figure unfolded from the flames.

"I have awoken your husband and told him where you were and explained to him what and who you were. He has been put into a deep slumber, and when you need, I will awake him, and let you explain to him further what all of this means. Please, sit." Dumbledore, with a no-nonsense look in his eyes, told the shaken Hermione.

"You do realize that you could have just ruined my life, once again. I love that man, and you have gone and blown it for no good reason." Hermione said, with heat and fury radiating around her.

"That's up to the two of you to work out. I am sorry, but it's time for you to come back. Now, nobody yet knows that you still walk the earth, but they will soon enough. Harry and your children are still well, and I know have missed you greatly. Your daughter seems to take after her mother in plenty of ways. She is exceptionally bright, and risky, if I do say so myself, talented, beautiful, and at the very center of Harry's heart of hearts. Charlie, unfortunately, was forced to grow quickly, but has turned out to be a remarkable, very intelligent, compassionate, and diligent young man. They have good genes, and Harry has done well in teaching them to play to their strengths. You should be proud."

Hermione didn't say anything, because, in order to tell him just how proud she was, she would have to say something nice to the old man, something she really did not want to do at the moment. So instead she just sat, staring, and waited for him to continue.

"Before I tell you why I decided to bring you back tonight, let me go get an old friend of yours. Excuse me for a moment." Dumbledore said and glided out of the room.

Hermione felt sick. She knew that Dumbledore would return with Harry following. She wasn't ready to see him again. Not just yet.

But instead Dumbledore returned with none other than Remus Lupin in tow. Remus laid eyes on her and stopped frozen in his footsteps.

It simply wasn't possible. There was no way it could be her. Dumbledore had broken the news that she had died years ago. Not Hermione. Scenes of the following days after she had died flashed through his mind. Dumbledore crying as he told them what had happened to her. He remembered how Harry had collapsed in grief, and how Charlie started wailing, although Remus had doubted that he knew what was going on and was just crying because his daddy was. Remus remembered feeling like he had been sucker punched in the stomach. Hermione had been a beautiful person, someone who had stood up to and for him on countless occasions. She was one of the most incredible women he had ever had the pleasure of knowing, even if she was so young. He had not realized before hand that he had loved her, and it took losing her to make him realize how much he not only loved her, but Harry, and her children, and others as well. And now, here she was, fully grown, looking sad and confused, but still gorgeous and smart. This plainly could not be happening.

"Do I know you?" Remus questioned the woman.

Hermione had been standing in shock at seeing his face after so many years. She had missed him so much. He had been like an uncle to her, and he was back in front of her. She had time only to say his name before she had crossed to him and embraced him intensely.

Remus kissed that girl any place his lips could reach. "God, I missed you. I missed you so much." he murmured as he kissed her face and smelled her shampoo. It was delightful to have her back, this girl who's life was about to change dramatically.

Dumbledore cleared his throat to get Remus and Hermione's attention. He didn't know that Remus and Hermione had missed each other so much. But that was peanuts at the moment. "I think…. It's time to reintroduce Hermione to everyone." he said softly.

Hermione and Remus looked at each other, Hermione going limp in his arms. Remus could feel that she was nervous. "Let's go." he said to her.

The babble was getting increasingly louder, everyone in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place talking and speculating why Dumbledore, who hadn't been seen for days, had just slipped through the kitchen door, walked to Remus, whispered something, and both men hurried out of the kitchen.

Little did they know.

Meanwhile...

The chatter stopped as the door reopened. Dumbledore, Remus, and a dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty of a woman stood there. The woman looked ready to break down and cry. Remus had his arm around her, as if to give her confidence and comfort.

A tear dropping would have made more noise than there was in the kitchen. Jaws fell to the floor and minds were racing, all wondering the same thing. God, she looked familiar.

Ronald Weasley stood and took a few hesitant steps toward her. He knew that face, that stance she took.

The words "Hi Ron" came from those flawlessly formed lips of hers, and Ron lost it. She was in his arms before either knew what had happened.

When they broke apart the hug, everyone was still staring at them.

"Well, don't everyone talk at once." Ron remarked.

Finally someone spoke up. "Who is she, Ron?" Ginny Banks-Weasley asked.

Ron looked at them all incredulously. "What do you mean, who is that? Are you crazy?"

Shock in her manners, Mrs. Weasley finally spoke. She looked on the verge of hysteria as she said, "Hermione. Mrs. Hermione Potter."

"Nuh-unh" Ginny said. "She's dead, Mom. You know that."

"No, she's not. She never was dead. That was all my doing." Dumbledore interjected.

"What do you mean, 'all your doing'?" Mr. Weasley asked as he was pushed aside in his wife's hurry to get to Hermione.

"Please, if you will be silent and listen, I will tell you. I'm awfully sorry that I did make all of you suffer Hermione's lose, but in time, I hope you will see that it was best."

With interruption from Hermione, Dumbledore told them the story of just what had happened in the last seven years.

Harry rapped on the door to Grimmauld Place with Charlie and Cecilia close behind him.

"God, Dad, why do we have to come here? It's so…pretty!" Cecilia exclaimed, only after receiving a shooting glare from Charlie.

'Why'd you have to do that?" she questioned him behind their father's back.

"Because, Cecilia," Charlie said with obvious irritation in his voice, "You know Dad doesn't like coming here either. Don't make it worse for him."

"Why? Is he still hung up on Sirius dying? It's been 12 years since then!" she shot back at her brother.

"Oh, I dare you to say that within ear shot of Dad, see how he takes it." said Charlie, with a sarcastic tone.

Harry turned and glared at his son and daughter. "Oh yes, please do."

Cecilia would have liked very much at the moment to curl up in her shoe. She hadn't wanted her father to hear that, and she knew now that she would regret saying it forever. She knew how much those words could sting.

What Harry would not - could not - ever tell his baby girl was that, yes, those words had hurt, but she was right. He was still hung up on Sirius. Sirius had been much more than a godfather to him. Remus had filled in nicely, but there was no way he could ever actually be Sirius, and Harry was grateful that he didn't try. CeCe was right. It was time to swallow those feelings of resentment toward that whole ordeal. It would do him no good to hold on to them.

The door to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, opened slowly and an aging house-elf peered out into the night. When he spotted Harry and his children, a slow smile spread across the elf's face. He knew what a shock Harry was in for, and how much pain it would cause him. He couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he figured out that his dead wife wasn't actually dead. Oh, how he would love the feelings of hate, disappointment and rage that would come to Harry Potter's face. He allowed the three of them into the house and followed close behind Harry into the kitchen, where he was sure hell was about to freeze over.