Chapter 7

"Did that really just happen?"

Ron and I are trekking up the winding staircase in pursuit of Harry and Ginny, whose shouts can be heard with greater intensity as we approach. We have just received what can only be described as a sex talk by his parents, and I am absolutely mortified.

"After living in this house for eighteen years, you kind of just get used to it," Ron replies, although his pink ears give away his embarrassment. Impatient with the plates of food in his hands, he hands them to me briefly in order to levitate them. "Windgardium leviosa." The plates float ahead of us without a problem, and we continue climbing the stairs. "You know, I seem to remember a certain witch that was completely offended by my awesome pronunciation of that charm."

My face heats at the reminder, however teasing. "I was just trying to help! And don't distract me from the real situation. What is it that they taught you? Apparently you know all that you need to know." I can't tell if the attempt at flirting is successful, as I am also genuinely curious about what exactly his parents are referring to. Contraception spells? I haven't read about them, but I never consciously sought out that sort of reading material.

"Oh, nothing terribly interesting. Just the usual parent stuff," he mumbles, although the increased redness in his face seems to indicate otherwise. We approach Ginny's bedroom, where it appears that the two have chosen to have their argument. I will have to bring the topic of tonight's dinner up again at a later date. At this point, Ginny is staring sullenly at Harry as they sit on opposite sides of her bed. She looks betrayed. Much like her mother, a deflated Ginny is much more heartbreaking than a furious one. I feel as if it would be inappropriate for us to intrude, but Ron has no such reservations as he strides confidently into the room, placing the previously levitating plates on the night stands.

"I didn't give you permission to come in," Ginny mutters through gritted teeth.

Ron acts as if she doesn't hear her for a moment. He sits upon what is currently serving as my bed, and starts eating his food. We all stare at him for a good minute before he says anything. "What? You wanna give us hell. Go ahead and get it over with."

Ginny glares at him with a menace. "As if it even matters what I think! Clearly, you three will go about your lives as if I am not a factor in them at all."

I am hurt by the "three," but I am just as guilty as they are. Although I supported her exclusion from our plans the least, I still did not fight it.

"That's not true," I murmur quietly from my spot in the doorway.

"Hermione, come here and eat something. You're probably starved," Ron says, his mouth full of mashed potatoes. I roll my eyes. Only he could be hungry when there is so much tension in the room. He swallows, and then returns his attention to Ginny when he sees that mine will not be diverted. "Ginny, what do you want from us? We want you to be safe. It's not because we don't want you around."

"You're treating me like I'm a child! And Mum, trying to justify it by the fact I'm not technically of legal age yet. I turn seventeen in a couple of weeks!" This is true. Harry's eighteenth birthday is in a few days, and we figured that we would celebrate after we found my parents. Ginny's birthday is only ten days after Harry's, which wouldn't be terribly relevant except for the fact that it IS her seventeenth.

"I hadn't thought about that, but you're right, Ginny," I concede. "If you want, we could theoretically wait for your birthday before we go. We would have to talk to the Ministry and let the people we were going to stay with know that we won't be arriving immediately. Assuming you get international clearance, you could go. And we could still hopefully get back in time for school in September."

All three of their faces change drastically, albeit predictably. The boys aren't happy about my suggestion, but it is Ginny that protests first. "That won't be necessary. This isn't a bloody vacation that you all are going on or anything. I just thought… I had hoped that after everything, I would be more included. I want to help…. It has always been you three against the world."

Harry looks at her sympathetically. "We never meant to make you feel that way."

Ginny lets out a snort. It seems like that line has been used on her before. "I know. And I know it's of no use to beg to be included." She sighs and tucks her legs into her chest. "Just forget it. I understand why you would want to keep me here. To keep me safe, which is always the excuse. Never mind that I can take care of myself… But aside from that, I don't want to hold you guys back. You should find your parents as soon as possible, Hermione. I won't let my age get in the way of that. I'll miss you guys, but I'll be here when you get back."

We all look at each other for a couple of moments, somewhat at a loss of what to do or say. For me, leaving as soon as possible is what I would prefer, both for my parents and for the increased chance of getting back in time for school. I never wanted to hurt anyone. "It shouldn't take long. I hope, anyway."

Harry straightens up suddenly. "Ginny, I don't have to go. Would you prefer I stay here?" Although I am surprised at the statement, I approve of the sentiment behind it. Giving Ginny an option to at least express her opinion, after not having any say at all in his disappearance last year, is bound to help their relationship. And while having Harry would have been nice, I'm sure Ron and I can handle ourselves.

"Why would you suggest something so stupid? Of course you're coming," Ron interjects before Ginny says anything, clearly not understanding the gravity behind the implications of the question.

I cross my arms in front of me. "Really, Ronald?"

Ginny shakes her head, as if deflecting our interruptions. "Harry, I always love when you're around, especially after this past year, but I am not going to tell you what to do. You've always done what you felt is best, and I am not going to change that."

Harry leans in toward her, and I feel as if I may be intruding yet again. "I know that this past year was terrible for you. It was hell for all of us. I know that I left you, when we both know that you could have handled yourself. I know that you could handle yourself on this trip as well. I'm just too afraid to lose you to risk putting you in danger. Last time, I had no choice in leaving. This time, I do."

I can't help but smile a bit at the intimate exchange. Even when Ginny is being a bit petulant (and justifiably so), she can bring out the best in Harry. Ginny's small smile echoes my own. "It's your choice, not mine. I won't begrudge you either one."

"So let's GO already," Ron groans on the opposite bed, his plate of food depleted.

I roll my eyes again. Although Ron is more in tune with my emotions than he used to be, he could still use some help with emotions as a general concept. "It's Harry's choice, Ron. Maybe he would like to stay. I like to think that our trip won't deliver anything that we can't handle. I don't want

Harry to feel like he has to go. It goes both ways," I say, the last statements referring to Ginny's earlier sentiments.

Ron's freckled face distorts in disgust. "But why would he want to stay here?"

"Maybe because he actually likes spending time with me, you prat," Ginny interjects before I can respond, although her eyes never leave Harry's spectacled ones. "But it's your call, Harry."

Harry is silent for a few moments before giving Ginny a soft smile. "I think we have some lost time to make up for… Assuming you don't object, Hermione? You guys will be alright?"

"Of course we will be," I assure him immediately.

Ron shrugs. "I'm sure we can handle ourselves. Just not quite sure why you would willingly stay here with her, mate. Or my mum, for that matter."

Ginny and I roll our eyes simultaneously. "I swear, Ron, you speak of me as if I were the plague."

"And your mum is perfectly lovely when we don't anger her," I add on.

"Yeah, but with her around, you two will never be alone," Ron reminds the couple, although after a few seconds his face breaks out into a grin. "So I reckon it's the best place for you two to be together!"

0000

I could not sleep the night before we left. I tossed and turned, trying to count the soft snores of Ginny in the bed beside me as a way to lull me into an unconscious state. Although I recited the way to restore my parents' memories every day since I took them, there was still a nagging doubt that always lingered in the back in my mind. What if it doesn't work? What if I'm not powerful enough? Although I have always prided myself on my academic abilities, I was never as naturally gifted as Harry and other classmates in terms of application. Besides, this is advanced magic that I had found in a book that I borrowed from the restricted section at Hogwarts. The fact that I took their memories was dangerous to begin with, but restoring them will probably prove to be much more difficult. I just don't know how I would feel if my parents - really my only companions prior to being rescued from the troll my first year at Hogwarts - could not recognize me. It would be devastating.

I share my concerns with Ron this morning as we wait in line to use the only bathroom on the floor. "Come on, Hermione," he grumbles sleepily, rubbing his eye. "You're the brightest witch of our age. There is nothing you can't do if you put your mind to it."

As he stumbles into the bathroom after it is vacated, I still can't shake the pit in my stomach. Intelligence and skill are not necessarily correlated. This is all I can focus on as I stare at my plate at breakfast a short time later.

"Hermione, dear, you really should eat something. Who knows when you'll have something suitable again?" Mrs. Weasley frets, pulling me from my thoughts.

"I'm sure that there will be just as much food there, Mum," Ron chuckles, although there is a look of concern in his eyes that betrays that he shares Mrs. Weasley's concerns.

"I wouldn't have sent my parents anywhere that I hadn't thoroughly researched," I assure them both, offering a smile that feels somewhat genuine, if only for how ludicrous the well-meant concern is. "Aside from a paste called 'Veggiemite,' there isn't anything there that would be out of the ordinary."

I manage to swallow a portion of the meal for Mrs. Weasley's sake, and then excuse myself to finalize my bags for the trip. I have packed lightly for ease of traveling, which is a trait that I have come to value over the past year on the run. I mull over the items I picked restlessly. Although my parents' have been the primary concern on my mind for the past week, it does not escape me that I will be going on this trip with Ron, without Harry. Ron and I had spent a lot of time alone in the past, particularly when Harry was having one of his moods caused by Voldemort's connection with him. But a trip, especially now that our feelings are known, is quite a different story. Even if my hormones have clouded my thoughts, I will not allow myself to be distracted from my objective. Although I would have once scoffed at Lavender or the Patil sisters for the same thoughtfulness, I am now scrutinizing each article of clothing that I bring. However, it is not out of vanity, but out of practicality that I make my selections. Surely, if I don't feel desirable, he won't find me desirable either? I can only hope, because as much as I wouldn't want to stray from my goal and betray Ron's parents' trust by not being perfectly chaste, I can't stop my heart from fluttering whenever my mind occasionally strays to the fact that this will be the first time Ron and I will be alone for an extended period of time in over a year.

"And this is why I'll probably fail in the first place," I mutter miserably to myself, berating myself for my vapid thoughts. "I should be thinking only of my parents, but I can't focus on anything that isn't his eyes, or the way he smells, or the warmth of him beneath my fingers -"

"Geez, Hermione, you could write romance novels," a familiar voice interjects with a snort from behind. I turn around with horror to see Ginny with her arms crossed, grinning at me as she leans on the door frame.

"How much did you hear?" I stutter, my face heating up to a degree that could rival even Ron.

"Trust me, given the subject, I heard more than enough," she grimaces. She proceeds to pick through the items that I had thrown across the floor in my anxiety. "Take this sweater. You look great in pink! It brings out your cheeks."

"The last thing I want to look is 'great', but thanks," I mutter, mentally filing the garment in the 'not to take' section.

Ginny frowns. "What's wrong?" She grabs my hand and drags me to her bed, forcing me to cease my efforts of sorting clothing into corresponding piles.

I am so pent up that I do not need that much prodding at all. "I just feel so frivolous and powerless!" I cry in frustration. "I am terrified that I am not going to restore my parents' memories. On top of that, I feel so guilty because there has been so much death and sadness around me, and all I want is to be with Ron and worry about none of it."

Ginny rolls her eyes, a gesture that surprises me in its callousness. "Hermione, you're acting like Harry. You need to stop this." I simply look at her hopelessly, my eyes stinging despite myself. Her gaze softens, and she grabs my hand to hold it. "Hermione, listen to me. You're human. Yes, a lot of bad things have happened, but no one deserves to wallow in that all the time. No one could take it! You're allowed to enjoy the good things that happen to you. Merlin knows why, but you've found something special with my brother, and that's a beautiful thing. You deserve to be happy. I'm sure your parents would feel the same way."

I am slightly comforted by her words, but the bigger issue still remains. "Even so, there is no guarantee that my parents will get the opportunity to tell me that they would feel the same way! If I can't restore their memories, I don't know what I will do. Being a pathetic lovesick puppy isn't going to help any of that! If anything, not having my attention completely focused on my task will hinder it."

"Look, I'm not telling you to shack up in a hotel instead of going to find your parents. But you've already proven to be an incredible daughter, and on top of that an incredible witch. You have a shiteload of brain power, and I'm sure the minimal amount that you expend to conjure up what little knowledge you have of foreplay and the male anatomy will not detract from your abilities," she chuckles.

Ginny was so much like Ron in her wit. While it bordered on insulting, I still find myself oddly amused and even reassured. "There is no guarantee of that. I fear you underestimate me."

"No one ever really knows everything. I think that's something you have yet to accept," she says with a small grin. "But we all have so much faith in you. You just need to have faith in yourself. And much like Harry, you need to quit feeling guilty about things that make you happy! I swear, I don't know how Ron puts up with you two. I think all he thinks about is his next meal."

"Now, that's not true," I say with amusement. "But I see what you mean… I suppose being happy about Ron does not detract from my parents. I would say the same to Harry if he was thinking like this."

"Atta girl," Ginny exclaims, mock punching me on the shoulder. She stands and turns her attention to her trashed bedroom. "Now, take whatever you will be comfortable and happy in. Not what you think will make Ron less attracted to you. I've seen the way he looks at you. I don't think that would be possible, even if you tried."

I blush and start restocking the small bag that I had enchanted for our journey a year prior. There is a pregnant silence as we make considerable progress in cleaning up the room that I cluttered up. Even though I had the bag completely packed for days, it still took some time, which allowed me to remember the events of the night before. "Ginny, I'm really sorry about the way this whole plan went about. The guys were so worried about keeping you safe, and not to mention keeping it a secret from your family. But you're right - you're an independent woman that is completely capable of handling yourself in battle. You're better in combat than I am! I think their judgment is just clouded because they love you."

"I am well aware that I am capable, but thanks for acknowledging it!" She smirked, throwing the last of the items into my luggage. "I just feel a little guilty that Harry has decided to stay. Even if I feel better about his safety since he will be with me, I want you guys to be safe, too."

I have packed for around a month, unsure of how long tracking down my parents and restoring their memories will take. However, the bag is almost weightless as I fasten it and place it on my bed. "He made his decision, and I do not begrudge him it. I am not worried about Ron and I. Besides, it's about time you two got to spend some time together."

"To be honest, I think I was more hurt about him making another decision without talking to me about it than the fact that we would be apart. But if he wants to stay, I'm not going to stop him," she admits sadly, her eyes distant. "Sometimes I just wish that staying safe for me would the obvious choice for him, you know?"

I simply nod in response, although I can only sympathize since I have yet to really be excluded from any dangerous decisions in recent years. We three always had a habit of sticking together.

A few hours pass, and we gather around the Weasley family room as a Ministry of Magic employee enters the home with a tea cup in hand. She introduces herself as Layla Shacklebolt, a cousin of Kingsley and an Auror. She looks older, although not by much - probably less than ten years our senior. Her skin is lovely and dark, and her long hair is in dread locks down her back. Her Australian accent is evident as she explains that she will enchant the tea cup to take us to Sydney, which is where I instructed my parents to relocate to. "We will be staying at my parents' home, just off the beach," she continues with a beautiful smile on her face. "All three of you should be comfortable there."

"Actually, I won't be going," Harry announces, which causes Mrs. Weasley to stare at Ron and I.

"Oh, what a shame, Mr. Potter. I'm sure my younger sister would have loved to meet you!" Layla continues, turning to direct her attention to me.

"Now, since you gave us your parents' aliases, we were able to do some research on your behalf, Miss Granger. We have reason to believe that your parents are still practicing dentistry in the city. Nine months ago, they purchased a home around a 30 minute commute away from the heart of the city in the suburbs. We have yet to get in contact with them, but there is no reason to believe that they are anything other than healthy. "

My heart pounds at the knowledge. In order to receive clearance, I had to have a substantial reason. I told the Ministry that my parents were hiding in Australia, which was true. However, I did not tell them that I took their memories from them, since the spell is technically dark magic and it would be considered a criminal offense. That being said, if the Ministry of Magic was able to locate them so easily, could the Death Eaters have found them first?

"I hadn't realized that you looked into their whereabouts. Thank you. Also, it's Hermione," I offer with a smile, although I am still worried internally.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but is it really appropriate for the two of them to be going alone?" Mrs. Weasley squeaks, and I can tell by her face that she wants to say a whole lot more than what she has already said. Meanwhile, Layla starts to silently cast upon the cup, effortlessly continuing the conversation.

"I don't see why not," Layla says, confused. "Haven't these three been traveling alone for quite some time now?"

"Yes, but the three of them is certainly different than just the two-"

"They will be completely safe with my family," Layla reassures. Ron and I give each other a glance. I don't think that Mrs. Weasley is concerned for just the type of safety that Layla is referring to. "Now, the Portkey is ready. We must hurry. Please say your goodbyes!"
Ron and I quickly make a round of hugs, although Mrs. Weasley seems reluctant to let us go. "Please hurry!" Layla ushers, prompting Mrs. Weasley to relinquish us from her grasp. I look into Ron's eyes, seeking the comfort that I knew I would find after so many years, and we touch the tea cup together.