I'm sorry if people were waiting for me to update on Saturday, I've been busy. I've spent the last few days baking delicious treats for my boyfriend, including a HUGE rocky road worthy enough to satisfy even a chocoholic such as Remus.

This chapter is a Hermione one, set in the ordinary wizarding world. I thought it was about time I focused on her again because so many chapters lately have been flashbacks.

I don't own any of the characters, the incomparably talented Ms Rowling does. I'm not making any money from this story; it is simply a tribute to my ultimate favourite fandom.

Enjoy!

Hermione checked her appearance in the small mirror that was hanging in the living room, making sure she looked okay. She straightened her necklace and rearranged an unruly lock of curly brown hair.

She turned around and her gaze was immediately drawn to the photograph that was standing on the little table. She sighed, feeling hollow as she attempted to bury her grief for the day. She was tired; she had lain awake for hours last night, thinking of Remus. She had finally cried herself to sleep about three hours before daybreak. Her eyes were still a little sore and puffy but she managed to disguise it with makeup.

She opened her bag and checked again that she had what she needed for the day. As well as the usual items, her bag contained a box of her special freshly brewed Wolfsbane potion and a selection of colour swatches that Mrs Weasley had given her to look at.

She crossed the living room and put on her coat and shoes. Before leaving her apartment she glanced back at the photograph once more.

'See you later,' she whispered and then left, closing the door behind her.

Hermione apparated to the visitor's entrance of St. Mungo's Hospital and entered the building. She greeted the woman sitting at the welcome desk, who nodded to her, indicating that she could go through. Hermione was a regular visitor to the hospital and knew a lot of the staff.

Hermione took the stairs to the first floor and made her way to Healer Smethwyck's office. She knocked on the door and heard Smethwyck's familiar voice call, 'come in'. She went inside and shut the door behind her.

'Hermione! It's good to see you!' said the Healer. He looked slightly surprised. 'Is it the end of the month already?'

'Yes, it is,' Hermione said, taking the Wolfsbane potion out of her bag and placing it on the Healer's cluttered desk.

'Thank you, m'dear,' Smethwyck said warmly. 'Take a seat. Can I offer you a drink? Tea? Coffee?'

'No, thank you,' Hermione replied, sitting in the seat that faced the Healer's desk.

Smethwyck opened the box and took a look inside. 'I'm glad you brought this. We've gotten a few new patients lately and they all need treatment.'

'Do you want me to brew more?'

Hermione brewed her Wolfsbane Potion for the patients on the werewolf ward at St. Mungo's and once a month she delivered vast quantities of it to Healer Smethwyck, the wizard in charge.

'We will need more, of course,' Smethwyck said, 'but I don't want to put you to any trouble. If you gave our potioneers the recipe I'm sure they'd be able to make it.'

Hermione shook her head. 'I want to help. And besides, I enjoy making it.'

Smethwyck shrugged and smiled. 'Very well… I must say, I've never met anyone as dedicated to werewolfism as you are, Hermione. Especially someone who has no reason to care as much as you do.'

Hermione knew that when he was a child, Smethwyck's sister had been bitten by a werewolf and that she had suffered greatly because of it, so he had a very good reason for being so committed to his career. Although he didn't know it, Hermione had an equally important reason for her interest in werewolves. But she wasn't about to mention that she was in love with her former professor who had also been a werewolf.

Hermione smiled. 'Well as a Muggle-born I know what it's like to be shunned by society. And like Muggle-borns, I don't see why werewolves should be hated simply because of a condition they have no control over.'

Smethwyck nodded in agreement. 'The other Healers and I are very grateful for the work that you do. As are the patients.'

'How are the patients?' Hermione asked, trying to divert attention away from herself.

'The children are thriving,' said Smethwyck, referring to Robbie, Stella and Tony, the three unfortunate children who had been bitten by a werewolf two months ago. Partly due to Hermione's Wolfsbane Potion and partly due to their child-like love of life, they hardly noticed their condition. 'And most of the other patients are okay.' The Healer continued. 'But Mr Brown is struggling. He can't seem to cope. He's refusing to eat or exercise and he's hardly speaking to his wife.'

'Maybe I should speak to him?' Hermione asked.

Smethwyck nodded. 'Perhaps it would help.' He looked down at the copious amounts of parchment on his desk. 'Well, I'd better get back to work, this paperwork won't complete itself.'

He grinned. He always seemed to find the positive in almost every situation, which was one of the things Hermione liked most about him.

Hermione said goodbye to the Healer and stepped out into the ward. The three little children nearly bumped into her as they ran, laughing and shouting, down the ward, skidding a little on the shiny floor.

'Sorry, Hermione,' the small, dark-haired seven-year-old Stella called over her shoulder.

Hermione watched, smiling, as the children disappeared noisily around the corner. She turned and scanned the ward before she spotted Mr Brown lying despondently in the bed at the far end of the room. Hermione approached the bed calmly and greeted Mr and Mrs Brown quietly.

'How are you, Hermione?' Mrs Brown asked with a smile.

'Oh, I'm fine,' said, using her standard response whenever anyone asked her the question. 'And how are you both?'

Mrs Brown glanced at her husband, who remained silent, not looking at them. The older woman's expression became downcast. 'Not so good,' she said quietly.

'Let me talk to him a moment,' Hermione said. Mrs Brown nodded, agreeing that she would go and get a cup of tea from the hospital café.

Hermione sat down in the chair next to the bed.

'Mr Brown?' She said quietly.

At first, the man simply lay there, not making any sign that he had heard her. But when Hermione was about to try again, he slowly turned his head and looked at her.

'Hello, Miss Granger,' he said with a hoarse voice. 'What can I do for you?'

'Oh, I was just hoping for a little chat,' Hermione said carefully. She didn't want to say anything that would make him withdraw into himself again.

Mr Brown nodded. 'I'm not much use these days,' he murmured. 'You'd probably have a better conversation with the guys over there.' He indicated two other patients, two middle aged men who were sitting in identical beds, chatting heartily.

Before Hermione could form a response to his comment, Robbie, Stella and Tony rushed past again, heading for the nurse, who had just walked in with a tray of juice and biscuits for them.

'They seem happy,' Hermione said casually.

Mr Brown closed his eyes, as if the sight of the children pained him. 'I can't see why they would be.' He opened his eyes and fixed his gaze on Hermione again. 'They're cursed. Their lives are ruined before they've even truly begun.'

Hermione shook her head. 'They've got a lot to live for.'

'A life of painful, monthly transformations into disgusting, unnatural creatures? A life of being persecuted by the society that they had happily belonged to just a few months ago? What kind of life is that?'

'They can live almost completely normal lives if they take my Wolfsbane Potion,' Hermione said gently. 'And you'd see that if you'd start taking it. Will you give it a try?'

Mr Brown didn't say anything. Hermione knew that he was aware of the benefits of taking the potion. He had witnessed it in the others; every other person on the ward was taking it daily. But Hermione understood why he was reluctant. Taking the potion meant admitting to himself that he was a werewolf, and he was still half in denial about his condition.

'I know your wife wants you to start taking it,' said Hermione.

'My wife?' Mr Brown said bitterly. 'Sandra stopped being my wife twenty-three days ago.'

'What do you mean?' Hermione said.

'She's going to leave me,' said Mr Brown with certainty. 'She won't stay married to a werewolf. Who could stand the shame of such a thing?'

Before Hermione could reply, another voice spoke. 'No, Paul, don't say that.'

Both Hermione and Mr Brown turned and looked at the woman. Mr Brown's expression hardened.

'Don't worry, Sandra,' he said. 'I'll give you your divorce.'

'No,' Mrs Brown said, in a heartbreakingly quiet voice. 'I'm not leaving you. I love you and whatever's happened to you, it doesn't matter to me. You're still my Paul. Nothing's changed. Why can't you see that?'

His wife's words seemed to melt the hardness of Mr Brown's expression. He gazed at his wife in wonder, as if, for a while, he had forgotten who she was and was only now beginning to remember.

'Do you mean that?' he whispered, his eyes not leaving his wife's face.

'Of course,' she whispered back and then she spoke more clearly. 'Now will you take the potion that Hermione has been good enough to brew for you?'

'Yes,' he said without hesitation.

Mrs Brown moved towards the bed and held her husband's hand. Hermione could see that she was near tears. 'Thank you.'

Hermione couldn't cope with the raw intimacy between the couple, especially as it reminded her of the lack of it in her own life. She thought of her own werewolf, the man she had lost and she felt a familiar tightness in her chest. Tears brimmed in her eyes. She mumbled her goodbyes hurried away from Mr and Mrs Brown and out of the ward.

Hermione emerged from St. Mungo's into the early afternoon sun feeling emotionally drained. She had only just made it to the ladies restroom before her tears began coursing down her cheeks. Her grief was so overwhelming that her throat ached painfully and she couldn't breathe.

When her sorrow became so great that she thought she would die from it, it peaked. Her sobs quietened and her tears dried up. Her breathing slowly went back to normal and again, she felt hollow.

She spent a long time readjusting her hair and makeup, making sure that no one would be able to tell that she had been crying. She waited until she had raised her barriers enough to shield her from the reality of her life.

Now, Hermione felt calm. She remembered, with disappointment, where she was headed next. She braced herself and then disapparated.

She materialised just outside the rundown front garden of the Burrow and made her way towards the odd, ramshackle house.

'Hermione!' shrieked a familiar voice, and then Hermione was accosted by a boisterous, ginger-haired girl who drew her immediately into a hug.

'Hello, Ginny,' Hermione said in mild amusement.

Ginny let her friend go and beamed at her. She grabbed her by the arm and began urging her into the house.

'Mum's been waiting for you, she's so excited!'

Hermione entered the house and barely had time to take off her coat and shoes before Ginny was pushing her into the cosy living room.

Mrs Weasley was sitting on the sofa surrounded by bridal magazines. She beamed when she saw Hermione.

'I'm glad you're here, dear,' Mrs Weasley said.

'Me and Mum have found you the perfect dress!' Ginny said enthusiastically.

Hermione found herself being steered unceremoniously towards the sofa.

'What do you want to talk about first?' Mrs Weasley asked as Hermione sat down.

'Dresses!' said Ginny loudly. She grabbed the nearest magazine and ended up scattering quite a few of them on the floor.

Ginny flipped to a double page spread in the middle of the magazine that contained several young, lithe girls modelling the latest dresses.

'Look at this one,' Ginny said, showing Hermione an extravagant dress with a huge skirt. 'This would look perfect on you.'

'Or this one,' said Mrs Weasley, who had been rifling through another magazine. 'This will give you curves and a bust.'

'Er…' Hermione said, blushing. 'That looks nice.'

'Ooo, this one is sexy!' Ginny exclaimed. 'Ron wouldn't stop salivating if he saw you in this!'

'That looks okay,' Hermione said, even though she thought it looked far too revealing and left little to the imagination (not her style at all).

'This one has a real 1960s look to it,' Mrs Weasley gushed. 'Just like the one I wore on my wedding day.'

'That one's okay, too,' Hermione said, unable to keep her lack of interest out of her tone.

'Is it all too much for you, dear?' Mrs Weasley asked.

'Well… there are just so many dresses to choose from,' Hermione said slowly.

'You don't have to decide now,' Mrs Weasley said. 'This is just to get a few ideas. Besides, we can go to Diagon Alley and visit all the dress shops. We can make a day of it!'

Mrs Weasley beamed and Hermione tried to match her enthusiasm, but she just couldn't seem to get excited about a ridiculously expensive, overly extravagant dress that she would only be wearing once.

'That's… great,' Hermione said with a small smile.

'I'm a little thirsty. I'll make a pot of tea. Here, look at these,' Mrs Weasley said, handing her a stack of magazines. 'They've got some wonderful ideas.'

Hermione placed the magazines back onto the table in front of her. Ginny was lost in a thick glossy copy of Witch Weekly's Summer Wedding Guide and was clearly enjoying what she was reading. Hermione glanced down at a piece of parchment covered in Mrs Weasley's handwriting, realising that it was a wedding checklist:

Initial Wedding Plans:

Decide on wedding party

Make guest list and send out invitations

Book wedding venues

Book vicar

Hire photographer

Hire band

Hire florist

Hire caterer

Bride's dress, shoes and accessories

Bridesmaid's dresses

Order wedding cake

Arrange hen party

Rings

Hermione felt daunted as she read the list and slightly nauseated as she realised that this was only 'initial plans'. She noticed that the wedding venues had already been booked and wondered who had done that.

A few minutes later, Mrs Weasley returned with a tray of tea and homemade cupcakes, which she placed on the table.

'Mrs Weasley, it says here that the wedding venues have already been booked,' she said, pointing at the list. 'Where have you booked?'

'Ron decided on the church down in Ottery St Catchpole so that the local vicar can marry you,' Mrs Weasley explained. 'And he said you wanted the reception to be at the Cannon's Club since you both love it there.'

Hermione nodded. She was annoyed that Ron hadn't consulted her first. She wasn't too bothered about the church but she certainly didn't want the wedding reception to be at the Cannon's Club.

'Look, Mum,' Ginny said as Mrs Weasley sat back down again. 'I've found some lovely bridesmaids dresses that Luna and I could wear.'

'Oh, I agree,' said Mrs Weasley. 'That would look wonderful with your red hair.'

'Yeah, and I was thinking that Harry could…'

As Ginny and Mrs Weasley began discussing possible outfit ideas for every member of the wedding party, Hermione found herself zoning out. She quietly sipped her tea and wished that she had something else to read other than the wedding magazines.

After an hour of discussion between the two Weasley women, in which Hermione had only made a few non-committal one-word answers, Mrs Weasley finally seemed to notice that Hermione was bored. She arranged to meet Hermione in Diagon Alley the following week so that they could start dress shopping.

'Tell Ron that he and Harry need to sort out appropriate dress robes,' Mrs Weasley told Hermione as she was putting her coat on. 'And, please, dear, try to put a little weight on. You're so skinny. We might not find a dress small enough to fit you!'

'I'll try,' Hermione said.

'I'll have to start sending you a few of my home-cooked dinners,' Mrs Weasley mused. 'That'll put colour in your cheeks.'

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Mum, stop trying to feed her up.'

Hermione moved towards the front door.

'I'll see you next week, Hermione,' Mrs Weasley said. 'And don't forget to look over those magazines I gave you!'

Hermione nodded, and after saying goodbye to Ginny and her mother, stepped out into the Weasley's yard, relieved to be away from the incessant wedding talk.

I always imagined that Hermione wouldn't want a massive white wedding (much like myself) and I can really see her finding the whole thing tiresome.

Please review! I love hearing your thoughts about the story.