Whoo boy, here I go again. Hello, folks!

This is my first fanfiction which I began writing quite a few years ago, thinking it was the pinnacle of my work and that I could never get better. A friend recently inspired me to read it again and I realised that there was MUCH to be improved on. So that's what I'm doing! The story is currently undergoing revision and I will be uploading edited chapters over time. Now, onto the story!

This is set in the Golden Trio's 7th year, in a world where Pettigrew was captured and sentenced, which led to Lord Voldemort never being resurrected. The kids are just a bunch of normal, hormonal teenagers, yay!

Also, Harry Potter obviously isn't mine, it belongs to the godess J.K. Rowling. Enjoy the story!

A resounding 'pop' echoed in the silence of the countryside, scaring the chickens scattered around the front yard into fearful clucking and announcing the arrival of a visitor. A light wind picked up the hem of the baby blue summer dress the girl was wearing, which caused her to quickly grip the fabric and push it back down onto its resting place just above her knees. Hermione had never been a big fan of skirts, thought them to be horribly impractical if one planned on doing anything other than standing around and looking pretty. She did make exceptions for dresses she was fond of, though, or for very hot days such as that Saturday.

Despite the wind having let up, Hermione was still gripping the hem of her dress with enough strength to turn her knuckles a ghostly white, a gesture that revealed how uncomfortable she felt. For years on end, the Burrow had been a place to relax and have fun; she'd reconnect with the boys that she hadn't seen all summer and lounge around the lake with Ginny. Now the sight of the asymmetric house sent a shiver of dread instead of excitement down her spine.

After the mess that had been the end of their sixth year, all Hermione had wanted was some time away from the worries, to just relax and not think about anything. She spent a great deal of the summer exploring the cities, ruins and beaches around South Italy with her parents. She returned home feeling more rested and energised than she had in many years, but it didn't last long. A letter from Molly Weasley served to shatter that inner balance, politely insisting that she come spend some time at the Burrow before school starts up again. She put off the visit for as long as she could, citing the summer homework that she had completed all the way back in June as the reason, but in time she ran out of plausible excuses. And so she now found herself facing the Burrow and a week with its inhabitants before the new term started.

She had been dreading this visit for two reasons: Ron and Ginny.

Ron had finally mustered up the courage to ask her out the previous year and at first Hermione'd been ecstatic. She had fancied him for as long as she could remember and dating her long-time crush was a dream come true. Only not really, as she realised. Things quickly went downhill and the dream turned into a nightmare that left Hermione constantly stressed and on edge. The tension exploded between them on the train ride home and Hermione hadn't spoken to Ron since, which also left her with the question of where they stood after the row. However, having had a whole summer to process the events and think about them, she was quite sure she was ready to tackle the situation.

The other person she was worried about: Ginny. That was a much more complex situation than the one with Ron, in Hermione's opinion. The younger girl had been expelled a month before the school year's end and had cut her off completely. They had become very close friends throughout the last year, but after Ginny left school she didn't reply to a single worried letter that Hermione had sent. She had no idea what kind of situation she was going to walk into as far as the redhead was concerned and that scared her. Hermione could deal with emotional stuff, that is, if she had time to prepare beforehand. But one can't prepare for what they don't know.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself, Hermione unclenched her fingers and let the poor, now slightly crumpled dress go. She wasn't a little girl anymore and she was determined to stop avoiding her problems and rather face them head on. With this thought strengthening her resolve, Hermione picked up her school trunk - charmed to be light as a feather, of course - and made her way to the door.

She had chosen to arrive mid afternoon, which would give her enough time to prepare herself before she had to deal with the stressful situation that was dinner at the Weasleys', having avoided lunch already. It was currently around 4 o'clock, which meant that everyone would be scattered around the house.

Seeing as the chickens went completely berserk when she apparated in, it was no surprise that Molly was waiting for her right behind the door, alerted to her presence. Despite being pulled into a bone-crushing hug right off the bat, Hermione noticed the shock shining clearly in the older woman's eyes at the picture she made.

"My, Hermione, don't you look lovely! I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress, it suits you very much..." She reached out and tugged on the hem a little bit, as if she was trying to bring the fabric below her knees. Hermione shifted, slightly uncomfortable. She didn't think the dress was in any way inappropriate, in fact her mother had picked it, which prompted her to push Molly's hand away.

"Thank you Miss Weasley, my mother loved it when she saw it in the shop," she remarked, pointing out that her own parent clearly didn't have any issues with it. "Never mind that, dear! What on Earth happened to your hair? Did you have an accident?"

Now Hermione's apprehension morphed into confusion as she ran a hand through her pixie cut. "No? I just went to the hairdresser's recently... Does it look bad?" Her old insecurities flared for a moment. Chopping off most of her hair had been quite a brave move and despite not regretting it at all, it made her a quite a bit self conscious.

"Well, no, dear, of course it looks lovely, it's just a bit unusual. Short hair is usually for boys, and I wouldn't have thought a young lady like you would have wanted to... Well, it just raises some questions, dear. I'm sure it's different in the muggle world, don't worry about it. Would you like something to eat? We have some leftovers from lunch, I can heat them up for you in a second..."

Having not been in a particularly good mood in the first place, Hermione had absolutely no appetite after that greeting. "Actually, I'm good Miss Weasley, but thank you for the kind offer. Where is everyone?"

Molly gave her a clearly disapproving look but didn't argue the point. "The boys are out back and Ginny... well, she should be somewhere around. If you find her tell her that I want to speak with her immediately, please." With that she walked back into the kitchen to continue with what she had been doing before Hermione arrived.

Clearly having been dismissed, Hermione made her way up three flights of stairs to drop off her things in Ginny's room. After Miss Weasley's answer, she presumed that the other girl wasn't in her room but knocked anyway just to make sure. As expected, there was no answer, so she strode through the door and then froze in the centre of the room after fully taking it in.

Her friend had never been the tidiest person and she was used to entering a room that looked like a bomb had exploded in it. The bedroom she was currently in was so clean and impersonal that it barely looked lived in. No clothes lying around, no books, papers, pens, anything, really, that would indicate Ginny spent her time in here. The bed was made too, and Hermione didn't quite know what to think.

Having no knowledge of what the girl's life had been like after she was expelled, she had prepared not to expect the exact same Ginny she had known before. But seeing the state the room was in, Hermione became worried if she would recognise the girl at all.