This is my first fic! Lets see how it goes.

Thank you to my betas, DevilNinja2000 and SlytherinPride2292. Go take a look at their stories and show them some love.

Also I don't own the Harry Potter franchise or any of these characters. With that said . . .

"Oh, Hermione. There you are," the youngest Weasley said while crossing the threshold. "Mum wanted me to come get you. Breakfast is on the table."

Hermione looked up. "Be right in, Ginny."

Situated among the oak trees sat Hermione, a book on her lap and papers strewn everywhere. At the end of the summer, she would have ordinarily been at home spending time with her parents before leaving for Hogwarts, but her new situation was anything but ordinary. To complicate matters further, she couldn't even turn to Dumbledore to help answer her questions. She was completely alone in figuring things out, so she turned to what she knew best: books.

It all started at the end of May upon her return home. Even though The Battle of Hogwarts had left everyone grieving, she was happy to have finally found her parents, with the help of a tracking charm on their suitcases.

Arthur Weasley found someone in the Ministry who had traveled to Australia the summer before; she was able to side-along Apparate to the country and track Wendell and Monica Wilkins down. Hermione then brought them to St. Mungo's and they were able to safely bring back their memories for the most part. Despite that, Mr. and Mrs. Granger didn't remember her.

As a result, she was hurt. Surprisingly for Hermione, emotions set in before logic did and it wasn't until a healer pulled her aside that she really started to think about it.

He escorted her toward the exit. "Miss Granger, they had a memory charm on them prior to the one you cast," he had told her. "It's the only explanation."

Hermione had been shocked. Was he implying they weren't her parents? "You cannot be serious."

Reaching the front hall, he thought about it for a moment and handed her a business card from the main desk.

"If you ever need to talk through things, we do have mind healers here. But. . ." he trailed off, "it doesn't look like the Grangers will acknowledge you as their daughter." His face flashed with something. Pity? Hermione didn't need his pity- or a therapist, for that matter. She needed answers.

Her mind back in the present, Hermione gathered her papers and books up and went back inside the Burrow. The air in the home was so tense, it was suffocating in the Weasley household and she wanted to go back outside immediately upon entering.

Fred's seat remained at the table, an unspoken rule known by the household's occupants. Nobody sits at his place. George was nowhere to be seen, as he rarely left his room. His way of dealing with his grief was to delve into Weasley Wizard Wheezes and product testing. After all, the family thought, it was what Fred would've wanted.

Hermione sat down and began filling her plate with beans, fried tomatoes, mushrooms, and scrambled eggs. The table was overladen with food, but Molly continued cooking in a fenzie, three skillets being magically stirred on the stove and spilling their contents onto the stove. A mounting pile of egg shells fell to the floor, and invisible hand cracking them haphazardly into the mixing bowl.

When she'd first arrived in May, Hermione tried to help the Weasleys through their grief. Now, three months later, she only wanted to eat her breakfast as fast as she could and spend the rest of the day researching.

Suddenly, the empty fireplace burst into roaring flames and out stepped Harry.

"Morning, everyone," he said stepping toward the table.

He was not even halfway there before Ginny jumped on him. "Gin, I - saw you - a few days - ago!" He managed to get out between the attack of her kisses.

"Get a room, you two," Hermione said sarcastically, sending the couple a genuine smile.

Harry's presence was a breath of fresh air in the tense dining area and she was happy they both had an escape from their grief. Grinning back, Harry held Ginny in a half-hug.

"Sit down, Harry dear," Molly said with her back turned; she was still busy, making an even bigger breakfast. "You're as thin as a broomstick. Is Ron flooing in next?"

"They're feeding me well, just ask Arthur," Harry responded. "Ron's actually not awake yet. I left him at Grimmauld Place. I actually came to talk to Hermione."

Hermione stood up quickly after shoveling a helping of eggs into her mouth, happy to leave the stuffy home.

"We can talk outside," she said.

Squeezing Ginny's hand before following, Harry shut the back door to the Burrow.

"Walk with me?" he asked Hermione.

She followed him toward the flower beds in the yard, puzzled. Harry hadn't come to talk to her once the past summer. Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Harry would all hang out around the house, but he never needed to speak to her alone. What did he need to say that couldn't be said in front of their family?

Harry seemed to be hesitating to say something. He defeated Voldemort and displayed more bravery than any other Gryffindor that Hermione had ever known, yet he seemed unsure to speak about what he came to say now that the two of them were alone, and away from other company. Hermione laughed internally at the irony of the situation.

"I. . . haven't been there for you like I should have been," he blurted at last. "It's just- Lupin and Tonks and Fred and-"

"-You don't think I know that, Harry?" Hermione interrupted him. "You've been through a lot and nobody expects you to hold it all together."

"My guilt for their deaths is no excuse, 'Mione. Nobody has been there for you these last couple of months. I've been so self-absorbed."

It was true, she knew. He was self-absorbed but after all, he had always been that way to a certain degree.

They had arrived at Hermione's favorite spot in the garden and the place she often did her researching. Six raised beds arranged in a circle were filled with everything from fragrant lavender to chrysanthemums to her favorite: pastel pink peonies. At times, the Burrow was unbearably on edge and she liked to sit in the middle of the circle with her books and relax. When she left for Hogwarts in the coming week for her seventh year, Hermione knew she was going to miss this.

"It's quite alright. I know you'll be there for me once you get through what you've been dealing with," she replied. He didn't need to feel guilty for neglecting their friendship. He had gone through too much.

"Well," Harry began, "I'd like to be there for you now." He dug around in his pockets before fishing out a piece of parchment. Handing it to her, he motioned for her to read it.

Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes

Memory Charm Reversal Squad

"I don't understand," she told him after looking at the ink several times. "There isn't a memory charm reversal squad."

"There is now," he said, hardly able to keep the smile at bay. "I know you haven't been reading The Daily Prophet, being so busy doing your research, so I thought I would bring it to your attention. Apparently, a lot of families put memory charms on family members before the war and Kingsley thought there needed to be a branch to deal with it."

"But Harry," she said slowly. "My problem isn't exactly like the typical situation they have to deal with, is it? How could they help me?"

Harry seemed proud of himself.

"I stopped in one day on my way to the Auror Department and told them what we're dealing with." Harry's usage of the word 'we' didn't escape Hermione's notice. This was their problem now. She was glad to have her best friend back. "They were happy to see me and told me to bring you in."

The gesture was also not lost on Hermione. "Oh, Harry!" She exclaimed. He nearly fell on the flowers with the force of Hermione's sudden hug. "Thank you."

Harry had been tackled for the second time that morning, but he wasn't upset. He, too, was glad to have his best friend back.