Hey people!

So, here's what's next. A little pause, shall I say, from all the fairy tell non-sense. Haha.

No beta for this one (yes, she abandonned me for now) so all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: I dunnot own OUaT or HP.

Enjoy!

Chapter VIII.

She was staring at the sky, the cloudy sky and she watched, as the pouring rain slowly made its way towards her. It amused her, to try and figure out if and when the water will reach her. It was like watching a wall of drops making its way through the countryside. Surely enough, the rain reached her a couple of minutes later, and in a matter of seconds, she was drenched to the bone. She didn't care, though, or at least, she didn't care enough to move.

It was England, after all, she was used to a little bit of water.

"Hermione!"

A male voice screamed behind her. She sighed. She didn't want to go back, didn't want to pretend, to smile, to play happy families. She didn't understand why that was, though. The war was finally over; the dark git was dead, along with his most faithful servant. They were rid of evil, once and for all. Still, she couldn't feel like everything was over. She couldn't feel relief, or happiness. She felt like she needed some closure, somehow; a closure that most likely would never come, for the woman she needed answers from was dead.

"Hermione, come on!" Someone screamed again, and finally she moved. She jumped off the wall she was sitting on, and made her way towards the house behind her, a tentative smile on her lips. Instantly, a ginger boy took her wrist and forced her inside, a scowl on his face.

"Did you not hear me? What are you playing at?" The brunette did her best not to look too annoyed, and she sighed again, distractedly.

"I was just thinking, Ron." She responded, irritated, though trying hard not to show it. She couldn't have a minute for herself, anymore.

"What could you possibly be thinking about, now that the war is over?" The boy looked confused, and once again, she could do nothing but stare, contemplating why she thought kissing him was a good idea.

"I will have you know that I have a lot of things on my mind, Ron." She pushed past him, and walked straight to the living room, smiling at the mother Weasley.

"Oh, Hermione! You're drenched. Go get a shower, hurry now."

"Yes Molly."

"Diner will be ready in 30."

The woman smiled, and Hermione nodded, then rushed upstairs, waiting to be in her room to strip from her clothes. She heard a knock at the door, and Ron's voice, and it caused her to sigh again.

"Not now, Ron, please."

He seemed to understand, judging by the lack of sounds, and satisfied, Hermione went to shower. She had wanted to stay under the spray for a long time, and she had even considered taking a bath. However, knowing she didn't have the time if she wanted to eat with the others — and she did, it would be rude to do otherwise — she hurried, and stayed just long enough for her skin to have a slight red shade. She took her showers scalding hot, appreciating the faint burned it left on her body. It relaxed her, and she was just annoyed she couldn't stay under the water longer. Showers were always the place she did her best thinking, just staring at the wall while the burning water ran down her body. Sadly, she couldn't think straight anymore, her thoughts earlier interrupted by a ginger head, to her great distress. Not that she wanted to think about Bellatrix anyway, mind you, but still. She had thought of something, something that left her wondering, and now it was gone from her mind. All in good times, she told herself.

Slowly, she dressed, putting on jeans and a rather large sweater, and took her wand, more by habit than anything. She made her way downstairs, and was happy to note that not everybody was sitting at the table. She smiled at Molly, carefully ignored Ron, and stepped into the kitchen.

"Do you need any help, Molly?" She asked in a sweet voice, playing absentmindedly with her wand, making it roll inside her palm, much like another witch use to do. No one noticed, except perhaps Molly, who tensed a couple of seconds, before pretending everything was all right.

"No, thank you darling. You can go to the dining table, everything will be ready shortly."

Nodding, Hermione made her way towards the table, sitting across from Ginny, who was talking animatedly about quidditch. She zoned out, naturally, and stared at a plate on the table, not noticing her fingers were gripping her wand rather hard, until a warm hand settled on top of her own.

"Hermione, are you all right?" The voice was Harry's, and she lifted her eyes to smile at him, a smile she wanted to be reassuring.

"Of course, just thinking." He nodded, and smiled a little too.

"Doin' a lot of thinking …" It was mumbled, but understandable all the same, and Hermione turned to glare at her boyfriend. He seemed to get smaller on his chair under her gaze, and she smiled, satisfied.

She couldn't yet know why, but Ron irritated her to no end. She was hoping it was just a one-time thing, because she wanted it to work. She cared about Ron, deeply, even if sometimes she wanted to rip his head off.

Suddenly, everyone was at the table, and the food appeared. The whole family started eating, and Hermione did too, though she wasn't eating much, mainly pushing around her vegetables. If someone noticed, they didn't say, and soon enough, diner was over. The brunette had no doubt some topics were discussed, but she wouldn't be able to tell you which ones if her life depended on it.

She wanted to go back outside, but it was still raining, and she had no doubt the Weasley family wouldn't let her out. Her only escape was her room, and the undying hope that no one would come and disturb her. Saying her goodbyes distractedly, she went up the stairs, and once in her room, settled in front of the window. She had always liked the rain, the beauty of it all, and the smell as well. It was somewhat peaceful, or at least for her. She marvelled in storms, loving to see such strong nature. It made her feel small, and when everyone had so many expectations, it felt good to be little, insignificant. Sometimes she wished to disappear, and live a more simple life, away from all problems, from magic. But magic defined her now, and even if she thought she would live better in the muggle world, she was just fooling herself. Of course, it would give her the break she so desperately needed; but at the cost of her magic, and she didn't think she would be able to live without it. It was part of herself, what made her whole, and she couldn't give up on that. Furthermore, giving up on magic would be following the crazies beliefs: muggle-born weren't supposed to have magic. So she would use it, and use it well, better than they ever witnessed before.

It was pride, perhaps, or a sudden sense of self-esteem, but Hermione believed that she was better than all of them, except the greatest wizards of all time, dark and light; still she wasn't named the brightest witch of her age for nothing. She was indeed smart, and she had good instinct, and she had an undying faith in her abilities. More than good, she knew she was good, and that made the difference. Being sure of oneself is the safer path toward success.

Still, she was one thing that disturbed her, and she couldn't say exactly out. Her hand drifted to her left arm, casually caressing the letters the madwoman left behind. She realised now that more often then not, when something upset her, she couldn't help but trace the letters distractedly. She often didn't even realise it until someone pointed it out, and then she'd stop immediately.

The scar unsettled her. She had tried everything to make it disappear, and then some. Molly had tried, than Madam Pomfrey had tried, and even St Mungo's, and yet, nothing. She didn't want to believe that this thing would be on her forever, because it was made to define what she was and she didn't agree with it. Her existence wasn't resume to being a mudblood, whatever they might think. Thus, she wanted to make it disappear, to restore her unflawed skin, but it was to no end. In the corner of her head, she knew that there was one thing she could do to finally move on, and it involved the crazy witch's sister. Not Andromeda, even if it was the easier solution — there was near to no way the witch knew what her sister indulged into, after so many years — but Narcissa. She was the closed to her sister, and Hermione believed she would know how to do it. But seeing her meant going back to her place of torture, and she couldn't do that. Therefore, she set her mind on the easiest solution: talk to Andromeda.

She heard noises behind her and she immediately took away her hand, slowly turning around to face the intruder. She smiled faintly, seeing Ginny, and behind her a shy looking Harry.

"Sorry, Hermione. We called but you weren't responding." Said the redhead girl, and the brunette just shook her head, inviting them in with a hand gesture. She sat down on her bed, while her friends settled in front of her, all the while smiling.

"So, 'Mione, what are you going to do next year?" She had expected the question, and so she smiled again at Harry, crossing her legs Indian style.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts, finish my education." She nodded a little, as if trying to convince herself it was a good idea. Her friends laughed, and she looked at them questioningly, raising a brow. "What?"

"Oh, nothing, it's just we should have known." Ginny responded, and Hermione couldn't help but smile. True enough, it was a pretty obvious answer.

"Alright, what are you going to do then?"

"Well, the Ministry said they would offer us auror positions, so Ron and I will start our training at the end of the summer." He was beaming, and Hermione couldn't be anything if not happy for her friend. After all he'd been through, he deserved it. And he was good enough for the job; she couldn't say as much for Ron, though. Nodding her assent, she then turned to Ginny, raising both her brows.

"Well, I'mma go back to Hogwarts as well." She had a small smile, and Hermione smiled happily in response.

"That's great Ginny! We're going to have so much fun next year." She rose to her feet and walked up to her friends, catching both of them in a crushing hug.

"What's with all the hugging?" A voice said from the corridor, and Hermione stiffened before letting the two of them go, glancing at Ron, who was standing in the doorway. She fought not to scowl, and smiled instead, though it was a bit cold. Why on earth did she find him so irritating tonight?

"Nothing special." She then responded, frowning just a little.

"Well, can't I have a hug?"

Oh, how much she wanted to say no. She didn't want to be near him, especially not in his arms. But she forced a smile, and stepped into his awaiting arms, and let him press her against him. She fought the disgusted grimace, and detached herself as soon as possible. She really didn't know what was wrong with her; a few hours ago she was perfectly happy in her boyfriend's company. Now … even calling him boyfriend made her teeth cringe. She stepped away, and smiled again, though it didn't reach her eyes.

"We're going to leave you alone." Harry hurried out then, followed by Ginny, and Hermione wanted to call them back, anything, so she didn't have to be alone with the ginger boy. But the two disappeared downstairs, and she had to face Ron, and she sighed discreetly.

He bent a little, and before she could understand what was happening, he was kissing her. She wanted to enjoy it, oh so much, and she closed her eyes, trying to desperately. But it just wasn't right and she had to stop him, so she pushed him away, gently at first, then with more force when he didn't understand he had to step back. Confused, he looked at her, and she could see the pain of rejection in his eyes; feeling guilty. She dropped her gaze, embarrassed, and just pushed him out of the way, mumbling a sorry, before rushing downstairs.

She was clenching her wand rather tightly; she passed through the living room like a tornado, not stopping when they called her name. She opened the door with force, and stepped outside, not caring about the rain, the storm, or the wind. She walked rapidly towards the field, and when she heard Ginny running after her, she apparated.

For a minute she didn't know where to go. Then she decided to go to the one place that could set her mind at ease, and she arrived in front of Andy's door. It was late, she knew, but she had a feeling the other witch was still awake. Chewing on her lower lip nervously, she made her way to the door, and knocked a few times.

The door was thrown open seconds later, a tired looking Andy standing behind it. She smiled when seeing Hermione, and the younger witch smiled in return, entering the house when Andy stepped back in order to invite her in.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Andromeda."

The older witch just shook her head, and invited her to seat in the kitchen, smiling softly. "Tea?"

Hermione nodded and Andy started to heat the water, while the brunette sat down at the table. She was watching her closely, and in many ways; she was surprised of how much the older woman reminded her of her deceased sister. Still, the resemblance was only physical. The witch had kind eyes, a loving smile, and gentle movements; while the crazy sister was, well, crazy.

"How can I help you, Hermione?" She said, and the younger woman snapped out of her observations, smiling a bit. She slowly exposed her scarred arm, and it was answer enough. The other woman frowned, and sat down as well, taking the injured arm delicately into her hands.

"My sister did that … Of course she did." It was rhetorical, and Hermione didn't bother answering.

"I tried everything." She said, instead.

Andy nodded, and observed the scar attentively, tracing the letters with the tip of her finger, making Hermione shudder. It was sensitive, and it was annoying her. Finally, Andy took out her wand, and passed it a few times over the girl's arm, frowning all the while. When she put it down, releasing Hermione's arm as well, the water was hot, and she rose to tend to it, sitting two tea bags in to mugs, and then filling them with water. The girl was just watching her, irritated by the silence, and curious about the older woman had seen.

"Andy?"

The tall woman turned and set the mugs on the table, cradling hers in her hands. She took a tentative sip, and finally talked again.

"It was made by a cursed blade, apparently, but I do not know which curse was used. All I can say is, healing spell won't work. It needs something more complicated than that. I don't know what. I don't know what are … were my sister's favourite curses. I … Well." She was frowning, adverting her eyes, and it made Hermione frowned as well. She knew before coming here that Andy wouldn't be able to provide her the information she needed, but somehow she had hoped. Now her only solution was Narcissa and the sole idea of the glacial woman made her shiver.

"So there's nothing you can do?" She asked anyway, needing to be sure. When the other woman shook her head she sighed, and turned away, staring through the window once more. The weather seemed better here, away from the storm, but it was still raining. She was startled when she felt a hand against her own, and she looked up at Andy questioningly, raising a brow.

"My sister might know what she used. Narcissa knew her better than I did, in the end." The other woman seemed to have trouble accepting her older sister's death, or so Hermione believed. She couldn't yet understand why, the woman was a monster, and had an easy way out when dying on the battlefield.

"I was afraid you might say that." She smiled a bit, slowly taking her hand away from Andy's. "I don't want to go, though." She crossed her arms on her belly, a silly defence mechanism.

"I can come with you, if you'd like. I need to see her anyway." That caught Hermione's attention, and she stared at the older witch for a while, thinking it over in her head. Finally, she shook her head no, biting her lip.

"I think I need to do this alone, shall I decide to do it."

Andy nodded and the both of them sat in comfortable silence, sipping their tea every once in a while. Finally deciding to break the silence, Hermione set her mug on the table, catching Andromeda's eye.

"Hum, would you mind if I stayed here tonight? I don't really want to go back to the Weasleys." She seemed embarrassed somehow, and Andy was intrigued, although she had the decency not to show it.

"Of course. Is everything all right?" She asked nonetheless, concerned. It made Hermione smile.

"Yes, I just feel too tired to apparate there again and explain why I left." She was embarrassed yet again, and the older woman could see through the half-truth easily. There was something the girl wasn't telling her, but she didn't know what. At this hour, she found she didn't care, either.

"I can set you up in the guest room upstairs." She replied, and Hermione smiled, instantly relieved. She didn't exactly lie, because she didn't want to explain to them that she was researching her scar; she also didn't want to face Ron. Nodding, she rose with Andy, and followed her upstairs.

"Here. You're welcome to stay as long as you wish, I could do with the company." The older witch offered.

"Thank you, Andy." Hermione answered, smiling genuinely. She walked into the bedroom and slowly closed the door behind her. Her steps took her to the window, and she found herself once again staring at the rain. Again she had this feeling, unsettling, that made her stomach turn, but she didn't know what to make of it. All she knew was that, whatever it was, it involved Bellatrix. That idea alone gave her the creeps.

Exhausted, she forced herself to detach from the window, and went to sit on the bed, transfiguring her cloths in pyjamas in a wave of her wand. She settled beneath the sheets a few seconds later, setting her wand on the bedside table. She was asleep before her head even hit the pillow.

I did tell you we'd see Hermione soon.

What do you think? Share, it makes me better.

And thank you for the reviews.

kytkis: Indeed. We'll get there. First I need to set the characters more into place, and I'll explore Bellatrix from different points of views, I find her damn interesting as well! I can't give it away, though, it would ruin it for you.

Until next time!