Disclaimer: no, I'm not rich, famous, OR awesomely awesome. Boo.

EPILOGUE

Monica Wilkins sat down in front of the TV. It had been a year since she had moved to Australia with her husband. A very odd year.

She rubbed her forehead.

Her husband, Wendell, was away at work, at the export firm that had hired him. She couldn't wait for him to get back. She'd got back from her own work, accounting, a while ago. On her way back, she'd dug in her handbag for a pen, and found a photograph instead. A photograph that moved. And, after her first reaction, which was one of complete shock, she found that she wasn't as flabbergasted as she might be.

There were three people in the photo. Two boys, one with black hair and green eyes, and one red-haired one with a whole lot of freckles and bright blue eyes. They looked about fourteen. In between them was a girl, with long bushy brown hair and brown eyes, who seemed the same age. She was laughing, and she kept glancing up at the red haired boy when he wasn't looking, and he'd glance down at her when she looked away. Every so often, they'd have an eyelock, blush furiously, and look away. The boy with the black hair, Monica noticed, was looking quietly amused. But Monica was more interested in the girl, firstly because, for some reason, she felt a queer ache whenever she looked at her, and secondly because there was no denying that she looked exactly like Monica's husband, Wendell.

It was very curious.

This wasn't the first thing that had sorly confused the Wilkins' in the past year. There had been numerous little things... Wendell had been having queer headaches and dreams, Monica missed her favourite pair of shoes, and she couldn't remember what she'd done with them, except that maybe she'd lent them to someone back in England, someone whose name began with an 'H'. The scariest was that when she and Wendell had sat down to try to make sense of it, they'd realized that they were missing a chunk of memory at least seventeen years long! They couldn't remember a thing after the first year of their marriage, and they were seriously beginning to wonder if they'd been abducted by aliens or something, and were seriously considering hypnosis...

The doorbell rang.

"Wendell!" said Monica softly, and went to open it. Outside were standing three young people, the very people from the moving snapshot. Monica clutched at the door handle as everything around her began to go dark.

"Mum!" shrieked Hermione as she, along with Harry and Ron, hastened to hold up Hermione's mother, who had fainted.

"It's all right, 'Mione, she's just fainted..." said Ron, reassuringly. Ever since Ron and Hermione had made their relationship official, Ron had taken to calling Hermione ''Mione', an endearment he came up with himself. Harry and Ginny had pretended to gag everytime they heard it for the first week or two, but now they were used to it, although Harry still always felt himself smiling wrily when he heard it.

They laid Mrs. Granger on the sofa, and Hermione, conjuring a wet sponge out of thin air, proceeded to wipe her mother's face with it.

"Why don't you just enervate her-" began Ron, but he stopped as Harry gave him a meaningful look.

"Mum..." whimpered Hermione, threading her fingers through her mum's thick brown hair, so like her own, but tamer, while she sponged her forehead. Mrs. Granger's eyes fluttered.

"Mum?" said Hermione hopefully. Mrs. Granger's eyes shot open, and she gazed at them, terror evident upon her face.

"Who are you?" she hissed, as she tried to sit up.

"I... I'm Hermione," gulped Hermione sadly.

"Her-hermione..." muttered Mrs. Granger. "Did I ever lend you my high heeled shoes?" she asked, her eyes moving quickly back to her face. Hermione nodded, tears now streaming down her face.

"Wendell will be here..." said Mrs. Granger distractedly as she stood up. "You talk to him..."

"Hermione, now would be a good time," Harry advised her. Hermione nodded, and with a determined look on her face, she raised her wand. She muttered the countercharm to the spell she'd put on her mum. Mrs. Granger's eyes rolled back in her head, as she waded through a sudden splash of seventeen years of lost memories... alll with Hermione in them... crawling... laughing... receiving a letter from Wizard School... becoming prefect... being affectionate...

Again Mrs. Granger collapsed. Hermione let a out a tiny sob.

But this time, when she opened her eyes, she had the old spark back in them.

"Hermione?" she said cautiously, and Hermione flung herself on her, crying. Mrs. Granger hugged her back.

"I missed you so much..." said Hermione in a muffled voice.

"I..." began Mrs. Granger, but she stopped. She hadn't missed Hermione, how could she have? She hadn't even known Hermione!

"What did you do to your father and me, eh?" she said sternly? "Worked some of your stuff on us, did you?"

Hermione sobbed harder, and Mrs. Granger held her tight.

"Monica Wilkins!" she scoffed. "What sort of name is Monica Wilkins? I feel like a receptionist!" She felt Hermione giggle. Slowly she looked around. Harry and Ron. Of course! How could she have forgotten? She held out her hands to them, Hermione still draped around her.

"And how are you two?" she said, grabbing a hand each. They grinned at her. Such nice boys. Hermione had wonderful taste when it came to friends. Memories were still flooding her brain, trickling in and filling niches and holes that she couln't beleive she'd forgotten were there. And one prompted her to say: "So, was my lilac dress effective?"

Hermione looked up at her and smiled.

"Tell her, Ron," she said softly.

Ron, who seemed to understand her perfectly, said: "Actually, Mrs. Granger, I loved your daughter long before I saw her in the lilac dress." He put his arm around Hermione fondly. Mrs. Granger looked from her to him.

"So, you're together now?" she asked.

"We're together now," beamed Hermione. Mrs. Granger inhaled deeply.

"Well, now," she said, at a loss for words. She felt as though she was waking up after a long nap.

The doorbell rang again.

"That'll be your father," said Mrs. Granger, getting up unsteadily. Harry and Ron rushed to give her support. "Well, he's going to get quite a surprise! We have so much to catch up on, my dears..."

With that, she tottered to the door.

END

A/N: And that, my friends, is that! Sorry it took so long, but MAN has life these past two weeks been hectic, or WHAT!! Well, love to the reveiwers, and blessings on those who reveiw this last time!