Mrs. Weasley had made individual honey cakes for Summer Solstice and there was a platter of them on the table when Hermione came down for breakfast the next morning. Ron, Harry, and George were gathering together Quidditch equipment. Ron looked up when she walked into the kitchen.

"I think that's everything," George said.

"You two go ahead," Ron said.

Harry and George glanced at each other. "Alright," Harry said. "See you there."

Hermione ignored them and poured herself a cup of tea.

Ron cleared his throat. "Mum and Dad are having breakfast with Auntie Muriel," he said. "But she left honey cakes for us."

Hermione took a seat. "Great," she said without looking at him.

Ron sat opposite her. "I hate it when you're cross with me."

She looked at him. "It's not as though I like it either."

"Then don't be cross," he said. "I'm sorry about last night. I'll make it up to you."

She was so tired from lack of sleep and anxious about the next week's activities, she just nodded. "Fine."

He smiled. "Great. I'll see you later then."

Hermione sat at the table sipping her tea. She tried eating a bit of honey cake but it seemed to lodge at the top of her throat. She was too anxious to eat. The owls came with the post, including Pig, who brought a notice from the Ministry with information on where to find her Portkey in Istanbul tomorrow. She stared at the letter. She'd half expected them to decline her request because of the Gringott's situation, but perhaps being Harry Potter's friend had unforeseen perks. She blew out a slow breath. This was actually happening. She opened the Daily Prophet to distract herself from the enormity of it.

Ginny came into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of tea before taking the seat Ron had vacated. "What are you up to today?"

"I was thinking of going out to London," Hermione said, closing the paper.

"Why?" Ginny asked. "It's such a nice day."

"I thought I'd check on my parents' house," Hermione said, feeling her stomach tighten at the prospect.

"Oh," Ginny said. "Want some company?"

Hermione's first inclination was to decline, but the idea of facing that big house alone and then going off to Australia tomorrow to try and locate her parents made her suddenly desperate for companionship. "Thanks," she said. "It would be nice to have the company."

xXx

That afternoon, after cleaning and airing out the house, Hermione told Ginny about going to Australia while they were having lunch, so when they were done with the house, Ginny followed her to the travel agency to book a trip. The flight was expensive, but not as bad as Hermione had feared given that she was booking it last minute. The travel agent was able to find a good price on a last-minute, round-trip, red-eye, direct flight out of China that Hermione wouldn't have any trouble making because of the Portkey.

"I don't understand how you're getting to China though," the agent said.

"A friend is taking me on a private jet tonight. He has business in China, so he offered me a lift to save me the fare," Hermione said.

"Fantastic," the agent said, giving her an appraising look. "I wish I had a friend with a private jet."

Hermione laughed lightly. "It certainly has its moments."

The agent looked at the tickets he'd just printed. "Such a short trip, you can't stay longer?"

"No, sadly," Hermione said. "It's a business trip, so I've got to fly in for a meeting and then come right back."

The agent raised his eyebrows. "That's mental. Your company should at least be paying for the flight."

"Oh, they are," Hermione said.

"Then why not use a business account, we have those," the agent said.

"It's a pretty new business," Hermione said. "We're not set up for that, but if this meeting goes well, I'll recommend you to my gov."

"Oh," the agent said, giving her a knowing look. "That's great then." He handed her the tickets. She smiled and tucked them in her beaded bag.

"That went well," Ginny said as they left the building. "He seemed nice."

Hermione sighed. "He probably thinks I'm a prostitute or a drug mule."

"What?" Ginny said, stopping in the center of the sidewalk, forcing Muggles to walk around them.

Hermione took her arm and pulled her along. "Oh, come on, who else would be in a private jet and then do such a quick trip from China to Australia and back at my age?"

"That's not a regular Muggle thing then?" Ginny said.

"Hardly, but I don't care. I've got a flight and that's all that matters."

"I'm not really up on currency exchange," Ginny said as they walked toward the Muggle entrance for the Leaky Cauldron, "but that seemed pretty expensive."

"I know," Hermione said. "I hated to spend the money, but I need to see them. I didn't want to ask for a Portkey right to Sydney though. I don't know who might still be in the Ministry."

Ginny nodded. "I understand. Still, you're planning to do an awful lot of magic in a really short amount of time. Are you sure you're up to that?"

"I'm fine," Hermione said with false heartiness. "Your mum's been steadily feeding me for weeks now."

"Right," Ginny said, but without much enthusiasm. "Maybe you should stay longer though, give yourself some time to rest up."

Hermione shook her head. "It's not like I can stay with my parents and I can't afford the hotel bill to stay more than one night. Besides, it's not like they'll know me."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, I guess. Are you sure though? Three days to Australia and back. That's mad."

"It might be, but that's what I'm going to do," Hermione said resolutely. They walked through the Leaky Cauldron to the alley and Hermione Apparated them back to the Burrow without difficulty. It no longer mattered who she took side-along. She'd done it so often that as long as she knew the person fairly well, she could take them with ease.

Ron and Harry weren't home when they got back, so Hermione went upstairs to pack her beaded bag and make sure she had everything organized for her trip. It was cool in Australia this time of year, but she had plenty of warm clothes with her from life on the run. She would leave tomorrow and be done with it. When she came back, she would start her life in London, finish her education, and then get a job. She sat on the side of the bed and stared out Ginny's bedroom window. This was adulthood then. The whole process seemed daunting, especially given that for over a year now, she hadn't expected to have to worry about it, but now here she was. She looked around Ginny's room and realized she was going to miss it. In no way could she study for her N.E.W.T.s here, but she would definitely miss the family, but mostly, she would miss Ron. She was sure he would come to visit. He and Harry and Ginny all would. They were her best friends. It's not like she'd never see them again, but it wouldn't be the same. She thought about Ginny's suggestion that Harry move in with her. Hermione knew Ginny only wanted that so she and Harry would have a private place to be together, but she did have a point. Living alone wasn't particularly safe and Harry had shown no interest in moving into Grimmauld Place and she couldn't blame him. Never was a house better named than Grimmauld Place. It really was a grim old place.

xXx

The next morning, after consuming as much breakfast as she could manage given how nervous she was about her trip, Hermione Apparated to Brussels. Ron and Harry had both been upset with her for doing the trip to Australia alone. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had also tried to talk her out of it. As she choked down part of a waffle from a street vendor and then Apparated to Paris, she wondered if maybe they were right. Nevertheless, she was doing it. She walked around for an hour to give herself a break, found a shop selling shawarma, ate, and then Apparated to Rome. She found a shop selling tigelle, ate some, and Apparated to the National Garden in Athens. Fortunately, the weather was perfect, so she found a quiet, secluded spot, cast the same charms around her she used to cast around the tent, and fell asleep after casting a charm on her wand to wake her by vibrating in two hours. She didn't need the alarm since she only slept for an hour and half. She Apparated to Beylerbeyi Palace in Istanbul. Underneath the tail of the lion sculpture, by the main entrance, was hidden a crushed Efes Pilsen can. Hermione picked it up, touched her wand to it, and felt the familiar nauseating yank behind her navel.

She had never taken a Porkey so far before and was grateful she hadn't had anything to eat since Rome. Regardless, she still vomited in the alley where she landed next to a side entrance to Guangzhou Baiyun International Airport. She wiped her mouth and stared at the building. The gently curving arch of the airport's roof made her think of a plane's wing. She went inside the large, crowded structure and looked around at the cavernous space and all the people. She didn't speak Chinese, but the airport looked like other airports she'd been in with her parents, so she followed the crowd to the security check point and showed her Muggle passport and tickets. Her beaded bag contained any number of things that wouldn't make it through security but none of them appeared in the X-ray image. The X-ray only showed a wallet, a hair tie, and some lip gloss. She was waved through without incident. Finding her gate took a bit more effort but eventually she found an airport employee who spoke English and could direct her. An hour later, she was on the plane bound for Australia. Her plan was to try and sleep for most of the nine and a half hour flight. She was exhausted from all the magic she'd performed as well as the stress of travel and the anxiety of the situation. She closed her eyes and didn't wake until the flight attendant asked the person next to her if she wanted dinner. After eating all of her pork fried rice, she fell back asleep until the plane landed.

The airport in Sydney was as big and crowded as the one in Guangzhou. The architecture wasn't quite as pretty, but the signs were in English, so she automatically liked the place. She found a bank of telephones and then looked for one that still had its phonebook. Eventually, she found one and opened it to the business pages and looked up dental practices, and there it was, Granger Dental Clinic on Bridge Street. She looked around for currency exchange. After exchanging some of her pounds for Australian dollars, she looked for the signs to public transport and found a bus to Bridge Street in an area called the Quay. The bus wouldn't come for twenty minutes so she went back inside and called her parents' practice. She explained that she was visiting from London and she'd lost a crown and was wondering if they could see her. She knew her parents were always sympathetic to people who had dental emergencies while abroad. The receptionist put her on hold and returned a few minutes later and said they could see her at ten o'clock tomorrow, and told her how to manage the lost crown in the meantime. On the way back to the bus stop, she went into one of the airport shops and bought a map of Sydney.

On the way to the Quay from the airport, she looked at the map and tried to orient herself, but it was strange and uncomfortable to be doing something like this without Ron and Harry. She didn't need them to help navigate but it was such a daunting task emotionally that she missed their support, particularly Ron's. Having him hug her and tell her that everything would be alright would be really helpful right now. Even if he only hugged her as a friend, it would still be nice. She decided to locate her parents' practice before looking for the hotel, so she'd know where to go the next morning. Their practice was in an old part of the city that was popular with tourists, so it shouldn't be difficult to find.

xXx

The journey to the Quay took half an hour and then she walked along Bridge Street until she found number ten. She stood staring at the plain concrete building. Somewhere inside, her parents were going about their day unaware that their daughter was just outside, unaware that they even had a daughter. She felt sick. She'd tried so hard to convince them to go, to get them to understand how dangerous it was for them to stay, but they wouldn't leave unless she came with them, and she couldn't do that. The spell had been an absolute last resort, but in the end, she'd cast it because she was running out of time. She remembered thinking as she walked away from the house, that she likely wouldn't survive the war, so it didn't matter whether they lost her now or lost her later, that at least this way, they wouldn't feel the pain of the loss. Only she had lived and now she was by herself trying to be an adult. She'd come alone to prove she could do it. That she could stand on her own. She had to.

To her shock, her father came out of the front door of the building and lit a cigarette. She watched him for a moment. He seemed older. His hair was grayer than it used to be and he seemed a bit more stooped in the shoulders than she remembered. He leaned against the building and blew out a long stream of smoke. Without stopping to consider the idea, she approached him.

"Excuse me," she said. Her father looked up. "I'm supposed to be meeting friends at a hotel near here. They said it was off Bridge Street but I can't remember the name."

"Could it be the Intercontinental? That's only a few blocks from here," her father suggested and the familiar sound of his voice made her want to weep.

She took out the map. "Could you show me?" He leaned in to look at the map and she could smell his bay rum aftershave. She felt tears well up. He pointed to where Macquarie Street intersected Bridge Street.

"It's right there, luv. A five-minute walk at the most."

"That's great. Thank you," Hermione said, her voice cracking.

"Are you alright?" her father asked.

"I'm fine. Just stressed. You know how it is when you get turned around in a strange city."

He nodded. "That I do."

She looked at his cigarette. "I don't suppose I could bum one of those."

"Sure," he said with a smile. "Although, I feel obligated to tell you, it's a nasty habit and you shouldn't do it."

"You're absolutely right," she said, smiling back at him as he held out the pack and she took one.

He lit it for her. "You're from London. Am I right?"

She smiled at him. "Yes." She took a long drag on the cigarette, feeling the warm smoke fill her lungs.

"I'd know that accent anywhere. Great city London."

She nodded. "You're from there too?"

"Yes, me and the wife have only lived here a year."

"Oh?"

"Yes, a bit of lark actually, just up and moved one day."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes. Sydney is a great town. We've got a flat overlooking the harbor. Business is good. It's all just tickety-boo." He looked at her, cocking his head as he did so. "You seem so familiar."

"I have one of those faces," Hermione said. "I should get going. I'm supposed to meet my friends soon."

"Right," her father said. "Off you go then. Have a good day."

"Thanks," Hermione said, and held up the cigarette. "And thanks for the fag."

"You're most welcome. You should quit."

"You too," she said and smiled at him before walking away. Her heart ached as she walked to the hotel.

xXx

The Intercontinental Hotel was large and venerable looking. It was also one of the hotels that offered discount rates to members of her parents' travel club. They'd given her a membership when she turned sixteen and she had her card with her. She booked one of their least expensive rooms for the night and paid in cash. It was too early to check in, so at the suggestion of the concierge, she crossed over to the park across from the hotel and walked through the Royal Botanic Garden. The weather was cool and crisp and the gardens were lovely even in winter. As she strolled through the paths, she thought about the brief interaction with her father. Whether he thought she looked familiar because the charm wasn't solid or if it was just that she bore a striking resemblance to her mother, she wasn't sure. Either way, she shouldn't have approached him without doing a glamour charm first. She wouldn't make that mistake tomorrow when she went to the practice.

As she continued through the garden, she thought of Mrs. Weasley and how much she would appreciate the beautiful grounds. She really wished she had some company. She missed Ron and Harry and Ginny, but particularly Ron. The beautiful day in the open park would make for the perfect opportunity to talk, really talk, about them and about the future. She knew they loved each other, and she knew she loved him as more than just a friend, but she was less sure he was attracted to her that way. Not that she didn't think she had any merits in that regard, but just because other men might think she rated a date, didn't mean Ron did. There was no accounting for taste and she might not be his cup of tea. After all, Justin and Bikram weren't hers, and they were both perfectly nice blokes.

As she approached a statue of a boy pulling a thorn from his foot, she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. The statue turned its head from looking at its foot and winked at her. She approached the large rocks the statue rested on and realized there was a magical curtain there, she passed through into Magical Sydney and smiled.

She was on a broad street lined with shops and busy with witches and wizards moving about their daily business. She stopped in a pub and got a meat pie and a lager for lunch and sat in the pub's window and watched the people moving about on the street. It was nice to be in a magical community, it was less lonely somehow, even though she didn't know anyone. When she finished eating, she wandered up and down the street, window shopping. She spent a couple of hours in Brown Books, but limited herself to buying just one title. She settled on a History of Magic in Australia and went back outside. At the end of the street was a menagerie next to an owlry. She walked through the menagerie, admiring the adorable wallabies among the usual cats, toads, and other pets. Then she went next door to the owlry. There was an old witch at the counter complaining to the shopkeeper about a magnificent owl who was perched next to her.

"He's worthless," the old witch complained. "My son bought him for me and he lollygags and doesn't deliver mail on time. He's haughty and he eats too much. I want a refund!"

The man pointed to a sign behind him. It clearly stated in large letters: Do not purchase Tasmanian Masked Owls as gifts. The owl choses the owner. No refunds if this rule is not followed.

"Well, what am I supposed to do with this worthless bird?" the old woman shouted.

The manager sighed. "I can offer you twenty-five percent off on another owl."

"Twenty-five percent? That's outrageous. You're going to turn around and sell this owl again for a fortune."

"No, I'm not. He'll have to be deeply discounted because he's pre-owned and it might take months or even years for him to pick a new owner."

"That's not my fault!" she shouted.

"No, it's your son's. Thirty percent off and that's my final offer."

The old witch slammed her wand down on the counter. "Fine. I'll send my son back to deal with you. Keep the damn bird."

"Fine," the shopkeeper said blandly. "But the deal remains the same."

The old witch huffed, gave him an evil look, and stormed out.

The shopkeeper looked apologetically at Hermione. "I'm so sorry. Did you need help with anything?"

"No," Hermione said. "I'm just looking." She approached the large white-faced bird with the distinctive dark outline around its face. "He's so handsome."

She held up her fingers for the bird to sniff.

"You might not want to do that," the shopkeeper said. "They have a tendency to nip if they—oh my, he likes you."

"He seems quite clever," Hermione said, stroking the soft dark feathers on the owls back. "I don't know what that old woman was talking about."

"You want him?" The shopkeeper asked. "Four galleons. That's seventy-five percent off."

Hermione knew that was an exceptionally good price for an owl and that she'd need one once she moved into her parents' place. "I'd love to have him, but I live in London and I don't know how I'd get him home. I couldn't ask him to fly all that way."

"Not a problem, love, we've got a shipment going to London tonight. When are you heading back?"

"Tomorrow," Hermione said.

"Perfect. He'll be fed and watered and waiting for you when you get back. I won't even have to leave him at Eeylops."

"Then I'll take him," Hermione said, smiling. She handed the shopkeeper four Galleons and wrote out her address.

He handed her a small box of owl treats. "These come with the purchase of an owl."

Hermione tucked the treats into her beaded bag. She stroked the bird's head. "What's his name?"

"Doesn't have one so far as I know," the shopkeeper said.

Hermione looked at the bird. "How about Xerxes?" She stroked the owl's feathers. "Does that please you?" The bird rubbed his beak against her hand and let out a happy coo. "Xerxes it is then," Hermione said.

The shopkeeper made a note and smiled. "You know just how to treat him. He'll do right by you. These owls are proud. They need a little deference."

"Of course," Hermione said. "He's handsome and clever. You have to respect that." She gave the big bird one last stroke. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"That you will," the shopkeeper said. "G'day."

By the time, Hermione left the magical street and reentered the Royal Botanic Garden, the sun was starting to set. She headed back to the hotel feeling a bit better. She had an owl now and a new book to read. Her night wouldn't be so bleak. When she got back to the hotel, she checked in, and then asked the concierge if there was a place to get take out Indian food nearby. She hadn't had a curry in ages. The concierge suggested the Spice Room and gave her directions and the phone number. It was only a couple of blocks from the hotel, so she decided to give it a try later for dinner. She went upstairs to her room and took a shower before settling in to read her book before dinnertime.

xXx

After she picked up dinner, she went back to her room and watched a Fleetwood Mac retrospective on television while she ate. Her parents loved music and Fleetwood Mac was one of the bands they both enjoyed. Her father had purchased The Dance, the band's concert video, for Christmas for her mother sixth year. They'd watched it as a family until Stevie Nicks sang Silver Springs and Hermione had left the room in tears. Her mother had given her a minute and then went upstairs after her and the whole Ron and Lavender saga had poured out of Hermione in one sobbing rush. Her mother had held her and commiserated on how stupid boys could be.

Hermione turned off the television and went to stand at the window to look out at the harbor. She could see the famous opera house with its white sails lit up at night. She thought about Ron's concern for the kitchen elves during the battle at Hogwarts and that first kiss in the middle of the battle, in front of Harry, without any care that she'd just dropped a stack of deadly fangs. Ron had dropped his own stack of fangs and his broom, and had responded with such enthusiasm that he'd lifted her off her feet. In that moment, she'd thought for sure he felt exactly as she did. After all, they'd had so many interrupted moments before, but was all of that just the pressure of the war, the heat of the battle? It hadn't been for her, but had it been for him? She thought about the night after the final battle, how sweet he'd been in bed, how he'd said he loved her, but perhaps that had just been pillow talk. She sighed and considered the last time they'd kissed, in the garden, when George had interrupted them. As with their first kiss, he'd responded enthusiastically, but he hadn't initiated it. He never initiated anything more amorous than a hug. Was that because he wasn't that into her or just that she generally led things in their relationship? She wasn't sure and she hated that. She wanted to be sure. She needed to be sure because so much was riding on getting it right. She sighed. Her mother would be good at untangling all this. Unfortunately, she didn't really have a mother anymore. All she had was a dentist. A tear slipped down her cheek. She pressed her forehead against the glass of the window. Her life was a complete mess and she wasn't even nineteen yet.

xXx

The next morning, after a fitful night's sleep, Hermione woke and took a long shower hoping the hot water would wash away some of the horror of the night's dreams. All night long she'd dreamed of walking through Hogwarts or the Burrow or her parents' house looking for people and finding no one. She was endlessly alone and knew it was all her fault. She'd laid in bed until eight-thirty. Her time was all messed up. She was jet-lagged and exhausted from all of yesterday's magical exertions. She knew she should eat a big breakfast since she planned on heading back to England after her dental appointment, but there was a tight fist in her stomach so she knew she wouldn't be able to keep anything down.

She brushed her teeth, flossed them the Muggle way, then for good measure, she cast a cleaning charm on her teeth too. She looked in the mirror at the crown on her right side first premolar. "You can do this," she said to her image in the mirror. She pointed her wand, took a deep breath, and used an unsticking charm to pop off the crown. She'd known it would likely hurt, but the sharp pain put her on her knees breathing heavily. She sat down on the bathroom floor and spit the crown into her hand. She pulled some toilet paper off the roll and wrapped it around the fake tooth, took a deep breath, and got up and looked in the mirror. The stump the crown was attached to seemed okay although it was very sensitive. Luckily, she would have it fixed soon. She blew out a nervous breath and got dressed. When she was ready, she cast a charm to straighten her hair and make it blonde. She lightened her skin tone and made her eyes blue. She looked in the mirror and decided she was sufficiently altered.

As she walked to her parents' dental clinic, she thought about cracking the tooth that'd had the crown on it. She'd broken the tooth after second year. She'd gone home for the summer holidays, and her first night back, she'd had a nightmare about being petrified, and had fallen out of bed. She'd hit her mouth against her cauldron and cracked the tooth. Despite explaining to her parents that she could go to St. Mungo's and have it fixed magically and it would be as good as new, her parents insisted on fixing it themselves with a crown. She'd never bothered to have the repair replaced magically and now she was glad she hadn't.

She walked into the lobby of the building where her parents' dental clinic was and took the elevator to the third floor. She signed in at reception and waited to be called. She really hoped her mother would replace the crown. She knew that was the kind of work her mother preferred, but she had no way of knowing if they'd hired another dentist to work with them. She fretted about it until the receptionist called her name. A hygienist walked her back to a small room and Hermione took a seat in the reclining chair. The hygienist took a look in her mouth, praised her for having the cleanest teeth she'd ever seen, and told her a dentist would be with her in a moment to address the missing crown. Hermione took out her wand and quickly cast a numbing charm on her gums so the procedure wouldn't be so uncomfortable and waited anxiously to see who would come in to do the repair. A minute or two later, she was relieved to see her mother come in. She didn't anticipate the wave of emotion that washed over her when she saw her. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Oh, come now," her mother said. "I know it's scary being at the dentist, but I promise you, it won't be that bad."

Hermione nodded. "Sorry. I'm just a little nervous."

"That's okay, dear. I'm used to it. Let me just have a look. Can you open wide?" Her mother took a seat on a rolling stool and looked carefully at the remaining tooth. "This looks good. Do you still have the crown?"

Hermione handed her the wad of tissue. "I kept it."

"Good." Her mother inspected the crown. "You sound like you're from London."

"I am," Hermione said.

"Oh, whereabouts? We used to live in Heathgate."

"How odd," Hermione said. "I live in Hampstead."

"Goodness," her mother said. "What a small world. What brings you to Sydney?"

"I'm on my gap year traveling with friends," Hermione said.

"How lovely," her mother said. She rolled away and began prepping the crown to be reattached.

"Have you lived here long?" Hermione asked.

"Not quite a year, actually," her mother said.

"It seems like a great city. Do you like it? "

"I do," her mother said, looking back at her. "It's nice and we've met some lovely people, but sometimes, I really miss London and can't think why we ever left."

"You could always come back," Hermione said casually.

"Oh, I don't know," her mother said, returning to the crown. "We've settled in here."

"Ah," Hermione said. "Kids in school, that sort of thing?"

"No," her mother said wistfully. "We don't have children. Always meant too, just didn't happen. But we have two of the most adorable little Yorkshire terriers you've ever seen." She rolled back toward Hermione. "I don't think we're going to have any trouble reattaching this. To be honest, I don't know how it came off in the first place. Your tooth looks fine and the crown itself isn't damaged at all."

Hermione shrugged. "It just came off."

"Huh," her mother said, looking at the crown again. "I don't understand, but we'll attach it right this time and it shouldn't give you any more problems."

"Thanks," Hermione said. "So, you have dogs?"

"Yes, and they're spoiled rotten. I would love to blame my husband, but it's just as much my fault." She chuckled. "Now, I'm going to cement this back into place and you should be good to go in about twenty minutes."

Hermione nodded. "That's great."

For the next few minutes, while her mother replaced the crown, she talked about the dogs and about life in Sydney and things Hermione should see while she was in town. When she was done, she gave Hermione instructions about when and what she could eat for the next twenty-four hours. Hermione stood and her mother smiled. "You're all set. I'm going to wave the fee since all I did was cement it in place."

"Thank you so much," Hermione said and hugged her.

"Oh, uh," her mother said awkwardly. "You're most welcome. My goodness."

Hermione stepped back and cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. It's just been a trying few days."

"That's alright, dear. Enjoy the rest of your holiday."

Hermione nodded. "Thanks again."

"You're welcome."

Hermione backed out of the room, loathe to leave. She wanted more time but she couldn't think of any reason to stay. She smiled awkwardly and left. She managed to make it to the lobby before the tears started. She walked back to the hotel, crying the whole way. Back in her room she packed everything in her beaded back, took one last look to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything, and then went downstairs to check out. She crossed the street back to the Royal Botanic Garden and walked around for over an hour before Apparating back to the airport. She left Sydney at two o'clock in the afternoon but she was gaining time and arrived back in China at eleven in the morning. She'd tried to rest on the plane, but wasn't very successful, so she read the book she'd bought in Sydney, thankful that it was such a large tome. She was offered a meal but declined it for fear that she'd vomit after the Portkey back to Istanbul. Once in the airport, she made her way outside to a secluded area where she withdrew the crumpled Efes Pilsen can, touched it with her wand, and was yanked back to Istanbul.

Not eating turned out to be a wise choice, because she spent a few moments dry heaving on the steps of the Beylerbeyi Palace before she could successfully Apparate back to Athens. The journey left her lightheaded, so she found a street vendor and got a bottle of water and drank it in the National Garden before Apparating back to Rome. The tight fist in her stomach wouldn't let her eat anything. In Rome, she wandered around the Pyramid of Cestius for an hour before Apparating back to Paris. She knew she should stop and eat something and rest before continuing, but she couldn't stand the thought of waiting and her stomach was still in knots. She just wanted to get back to England and back to Ron. She needed his arms around her. She needed something solid to cling to. He loved her, and even if it was only as a friend, she needed some love. After only a few minutes in Paris, she Apparated to Brussels.

Her hands were shaking when she landed. She sat down on the curb next to the fence in front of Manneken Pis with the iron fence against her back and rested her forehead against her knees for a minute. She didn't know where to go next. Part of her desperately wanted to run back to the Burrow. She wanted to see Ron, but she didn't want to see anyone else. She was exhausted, weepy, and distraught. The idea of coping with the whole family was too overwhelming to contemplate. If it would just be Harry and Ginny with Ron, she would definitely go back there, but it was too much with Ron's parents and George and anyone else who might be there. She sighed, took a deep breath, checked to make sure she was alone, and Apparated to her parents' back garden in Heathgate. When she opened the door to go in through the kitchen, she sobbed. The empty house perfectly encapsulated the despair of the last few days. Xerxes surprised her by coming through the open door and landing on the kitchen counter.

"Oh, hullo," Hermione said. She reached into her bag for the box of treats the shop keeper had given her. She gave one to the big bird and then reached back into her bag for a quill and ink and a bit of parchment. She considered what she wanted to say. Finally, she settled on:

Ron,

I'm back in London. If you don't have anything planned, could you come out to Heathgate? I've reopened the Floo. I'll be upstairs. I've missed you.

She stared at the page. How should she close? Finally, she wrote the Floo address and then closed with 'love, Hermione.' She folded the note and stuck it in an envelope and addressed it to Ron before handing it to Xerxes. "Do you mind taking this straight away?"

The owl bobbed its head and took flight out the door. Hermione went into the parlor. Dumbledore had put the house on the Floo network when she'd first started at Hogwarts so she and her parents could get into Diagon Alley to buy her school supplies, but it had been closed for the last few years for safety. She pulled out her wand and cast the spells to reopen it before going upstairs to take a shower, and try to pull herself together, in case Ron decided to come out.

xXx

Hermione stood in the shower letting the hot water sluice over her and tried to calm down. She was exhausted and her stomach felt like someone had been punching her all day. She wished she had beer or wine, anything to help her wind down, but there was nothing in the house, and she was too tired to go buy anything. She even considered going out to the shed to retrieve her father's abandoned cigarettes, but the back of the garden seemed miles away. She turned off the shower and got out and dried off. She wrapped the towel around her and looked in the mirror, which was a mistake. She hadn't looked this haggard since the war. Inviting Ron over had been a terrible idea. She looked worse than she felt and she felt awful. She squeezed as much water out of her hair as she could and then went upstairs to get dressed.

The only furnished room in the house was hers. She'd need to take care of that if she was going to live there. Upstairs, she got dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. She didn't have the energy to cast a glamour charm, so she let it go. Ron probably wasn't attracted to her in that way anyway. A spell wasn't going to fix that. She sighed and stood at one of the dormer windows in her attic bedroom. She leaned against it and stared out at the summer garden in full bloom. It looked a lot better now that she'd gone at it with some of Mrs. Weasley's spells. Her mum would be pleased that she'd maintained it. Her parents had enjoyed their garden, but they'd always paid someone else to take care of it. She supposed it wasn't that surprising then that they'd chosen a flat instead of a house when they moved to Sydney. The thought of them on the other side of the world living life without her left a gaping pit in her soul. She closed her eyes and wiped at the tears that spilled over. She had to stop crying about this. It was done. There was nothing she could do about it. She had to let go.

The Floo opened downstairs and she could hear Ron come up the stairs slowly as if he weren't sure what he was walking in on. She wasn't sure either. She wiped her face on the sleeve of her T-shirt, but didn't go to greet him.

"Hermione?" he said tentatively from her bedroom door.

"Hello, Ron," she said without turning around. But then he did the perfect thing. He came and stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her and tucked her head under his chin and held her tight. He asked after her parents and how her trip went and she answered honestly because she didn't have the energy to hide her agony. She wanted to weep from the relief of being back in his arms and suddenly she didn't care if he wanted her the way she wanted him, because her needs felt overwhelming. She needed the weight of him anchoring her. She needed him to fill her because she felt so very, very empty.

~finis~

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. You might also like my books: Exposed Fury and One Big Beautiful Thing, available anywhere books are sold and on all digital platforms. Enjoy!