Disclaimer: If you really are that curious about whether or not I really own any of this, go to the first chapter. Which you should have read anyway! Slacker!
She let herself into the flat quietly, trying not to wake Mr. Simpson, the crotchety old man who rented the room to her. He lived just above her, and could somehow hear the slightest noise even as he claimed to be asleep. She paused and looked at the quiet room before her, composed of several identical chairs and sofas. It was the perfect single apartment, free of clutter. A place for everything, and everything in its immaculately clean place. All in all, the sort of place your parents always wanted you to have.
Hermione sighed, withdrew her wand from her deep inside pocket, and waved it lazily in front of her.
The perfect room melted away, revealing a room that wasn't quite as… tidy. There were books everywhere, spilling off the shelves that lined the walls, lying on the bow-legged coffee table, and sliding down to rest in piles on the floor. In among the literary maelstrom rested a saggy purple sofa that had once belonged to her dad, and a wide oak desk that overlooked a narrow view of the Scottish countryside. It wasn't the legendary highlands or anything, just the stretch of green land between small town and small town.
She walked over to the couch and sank into it, inhaling the musky scent that was seemingly an integral part of the sofa and allowing herself to sink into the plushy interior. The shoulder bag she'd brought with her dropped to the ground.
She was glad to be home.
But she didn't have time to rest. She walked quickly over to the desk and gently moved aside a glass case that contained an ancient book written in some disorganized and slanting script. She withdrew the puppy notebook from her pocket and laid it open on the desk. The two lines were there just as they'd been before, one in her small, precise writing, and the other in Remus Lupin's large scrawling print.
She wanted to test the book again, to write and see if Lupin would respond. But she resisted the urge and turned away from the desk, walking quickly into her bedroom.
It took no time at all to pull together enough clothes to (she figured) stay a month. How long could it take for her to see that (or, more probably, if) the 'King's Rebels' were reformed? Not more then a month! The untidy bundle went into a Muggle duffel bag, which then went to rest beside the front door of the flat.
And she didn't really know what to do after that. Should she call her mum and let her know that she might, maybe be going far away for a while, but she didn't know when she was leaving, when she was coming back, or even why she was going?
It hit her then, what she was doing. She steadied herself against her bureau, waves of panic washing through her. She let out a sob, and, horrified at what she had agreed to do, sank wearily onto her bed.
Fabulous, she thought wearily, pushing out of her sturdy boots and curling up on top of the comforter. It never fails, does it? Just when you thought you were well out of it, and that maybe the day would come when you wouldn't have all these memories, they drag you back in. Without a doubt. Bastards.
She rolled over, turned out the light, and tried to get some sleep.
Of course, the harder she tried, the less likely it seemed that she would ever get to sleep. Life is just like that, occasionally.
A/N: hokays! This is sorta part 2, even though I knows it's actually chapter 4. I like this posting chapters in two installments, so I'm going to keep it up. Bua ha ha ha. Thanks for the loverly reviews from Infradead and Ruler of Destiny! The reviews… they make me so happy! (nudge nudge hint hint)