Hermione

Hermione looked inside her walk-in closet. She sighed. What was the look she was going to go for today?

She racked through the endless line of clothes. She passed a cute tee that said 'Cutie,' on it in faux rhinestones. She loved shirts that had sayings on them. She thought they expressed how she felt each day.

She passed another tank top that was orange and said 'ORANGE,' in orange jewels. It had oranges all over it that had little orange jewels all over them.

Whoa, Hermione thought, shaking her nineteen-year-old head, too much orange.

She took that off the hanger and laid it carefully on her bed. She was putting that under the "Maybe," category.

She saw another shirt that was black and had three-quarter-sleeves that said, 'Kiss Me And I'll Kill You,' on it in puffy blue letters. Hermione frowned. She didn't remember buying that shirt. It was probably something her mum bought her.

Ever since her mum and dad's divorce, her and her mum had been spending a lot of time together. Hermione loved the time she spent with her mother; she just sometimes needed time to herself.

Hermione put that shirt on her bed, too.

Then she saw the shirt that she would put on the "Definitely," pile.

A rocker shirt that had holes purposely put into it in random areas. It was black and said, 'You Wouldn't Dare..." on it in red Diploma font letters.

Hermione threw that one on her bed and looked for one more shirt that would even out the process.

She saw the one shirt that she had worn since she was...er...eleven.

It was a white spaghetti strap shirt that said, 'Little Girl London,' on it in bold letters with the British flag pattern on them.

Hermione chuckled softly and traced the letters with her fingers. A lot of memories were worn into that shirt. Her first boyfriend asked her out when she was wearing that shirt. Her last baby tooth came out when she was wearing that shirt. She received her Hogwarts letter when she was wearing that shirt. She had her first...erm...cramps...when she was wearing that shirt.

There were bad memories, too.

Hermione was wearing that shirt the day when her favorite Headmaster (she's not the only one, everyone loved him,) passed away from old age.

She was wearing that shirt when Ron Weasley was killed.

Hermione suddenly felt a wave of sadness creep up on her. She let out a sob. She put the shirt back on the hanger with trembling hands.

The young adult wiped her eyes and silently reminded herself that it was two years ago that Ron died, and she needed to get over it if she was going to meet Harry without blubbering.

She took several deep breaths to calm herself down and continued to search through her shirts.

Hermione noticed a shirt way in the back of her closet that caught her eye. When she walked further into her closet, she realized that it wasn't a shirt, but a dress.

A white, sparkly dress.

It was a....

"Wedding dress??" Hermione whispered in awe.

The dress was gorgeous. It was white with a flaring gown, and silvery silk ribbons wrapped themselves around the bodice. The ribbons had pure diamonds embedded into them, and in the space between where the collarbone and the chest were supposed to be, a huge, enormous diamond sat, sparkling like there was no tomorrow.

Hermione was speechless. How come she hadn't noticed that dress before? Where did it come from?

Hermione shook her head warily, frowning. She could ask her mother later.

Instead of the 'You Wouldn't Dare..." shirt, Hermione chose the shirt that said 'ORANGE,' on it and slipped the others back into her closet. She chose a pair of white, hip-hugging flare jeans to match.

After she was done getting dressed, she looked at herself in the floor-to-ceiling length mirror.

Whoa, Hermione thought again, bloody hell. This outfit is a little form fitting!

That was an understatement.

"Well," Hermione sighed, "if I want to get something into that sodding head of Harry's..."

She faltered. Yes, she did have the biggest, most obvious crush on Harry Potter. But she couldn't help remembering the day Ron asked her out. She was thinking about saying no, but the day after that, Ron's life was swept away, and she didn't have the chance to say no.

And she regretted her decision as if it was a decision to become a Death Eater and was accepted.

Not that she would know how that felt.

Hermione looked into her mirror again and only then did she realize the tear that was making its way toward her chin.

She wiped it away and held her chin high.

"I'm not going to let emotions ruin my date."

Oh, but they will, a weary voice in the back of her head said, you can bet on it.

Hermione made her way into the Leaky Cauldron and sat at the table she always sat at.

Tom the innkeeper came over to her table and gave her that old, trademark toothy grin.

"How can I help ya today, Miss Granger?" he asked.

"I'm waiting for someone, Tom," she said with a grin, "when he comes in, you'll know."

Tom gave her a hearty wink before returning back to the bar.

Hermione sat there, tracing the wood lines on the table lazily with her finger, for about fifteen minutes before Harry came stumbling in.

Hermione looked up. She was looking into Harry's emerald eyes and they sparkled with merriment.

"You're a tad late, Harry," Hermione said, stifling a grin. Harry's hair was disheveled, as it almost always is; this time more than usual.

"Yeah, well," he said, sitting across from her, "I almost came in my pajamas."

"The Big Ben ones, or the ones with Snitches fluttering all over them?"

Harry flushed. "How do you know about those?" he muttered in a low voice.

Hermione laughed and handed him a comb.

Tom came over again just when Harry finished combing his hair (which still wouldn't stay put), and Harry and Hermione both ordered butterbeers.

They drank their butterbeers and talked about their summers. Harry was offered a job to work for Puddlemere United, but turned it down.

Hermione told Harry about the dress.

He flushed furiously and rubbed the back of his neck. "Erm...maybe it was your mum's or something."

Hermione thought about that. "Maybe you're right."

"So," Harry said, returning his normal tanned complexion, "I was thinking we could go to Diagon Alley and see if we could catch old friends from Hogwarts. That seem okay with you?"

"Sure," Hermione said, "I need to go shopping for new shoes anyway."

They both paid for their butterbeers and headed to the back of the pub, where the wall separating the wizard world with the muggle world was standing.

"You remember how to get in?" Hermione asked, looking uncertainly at Harry.

"Yeah..." he said vaguely, frowning.

"What's wrong?"

Harry stayed silent for a moment. "Oh, nothing."

He got them into Diagon Alley and was almost thrown back by a cacophony of yelling and screaming.

"This isn't normal!" Hermione shouted over the noise, "There's something bad happening!"

Harry was glancing around the alleyway, searching for something out of place.

Hermione spotted it.

"Over there, a crowd of people!"

They ran over to the mob that was gathering around something and tried to pry their way through.

"Hermione, hold my hand so we don't get lost!"

Hermione swallowed. Once she grasped Harry's hand, she felt a surge of electricity run through her as if she got electrocuted.

Harry must've felt it, too, because his grip loosened for a minute and he glanced back at her.

They made their way to the center of the mob and Hermione gasped.

A little boy, no younger than four, was frantically pointing to a little girl who was laying on her back, her eyes staring and bloodshot.

"What happened?" Hermione asked the little boy carefully.

The boy was shaking his raven colored hair and sobbing. Hermione could just make out what he was saying.

"Anna...roof...she...she fell off...jumped off...."

Hermione looked at the little girl and gasped again.

A river of blood was snaking through the people's feet from her dark hair.

"Someone get her some help and stop standing around like a bunch of sodding idiots!!" Harry demanded.

A blonde-haired witch disappeared from the crowd and returned with a bunch of medi-wizards.

They picked the little girl up and immediately their hands were covered in blood.

"Where are your parents?" Hermione asked the boy gently, assuming he was the girl's brother.

"Mum...mummy in the store...where's mummy...?"

Hermione turned to Harry.

"I'll go look for their parents."

Harry nodded curtly and let go of Hermione's hand.

The warmth that she felt from it suddenly left as she made her way into the store to which the boy pointed.

She remembered someone calling the boy Adam.

"That's helpful." She said sincerely to herself.

She ran into a witch that looked a lot like Adam and gently tapped her on the shoulder.

"Yes?"

"Do you have two children named Anna and Adam?"

"Yes, I do, why?"

Hermione sighed with relief. "Well, your daughter was sent to St. Mungo's..."

"Why?? What's wrong with her??"

"She apparently fell off a roof, ma'am..."

They woman dropped everything she was holding and ran out of the store, shouting, "Adam! Anna! Mummy's coming!"

Hermione stood there, feeling very awkward.

Harry entered the store and walked over to her.

"Well," he said, "that was something."

Hermione just stared after the woman. Something seemed vaguely familiar about her. The lady seemed very young. In fact, the lady didn't seem any older than Hermione herself.

"You okay?"

The voice came pounding back into her head.

"Oh, yes. I'm fine. There was just something familiar about that mother. She seemed very young."

Before Hermione knew what hit her, Harry casually draped his arm over her shoulder and steered her out of the store.

Hermione snapped back to reality and realized Harry Potter's arm was on her shoulder.

She colored and felt her cheeks getting hot.

"W-where are we g-going?"

"Flourish and Blotts. That okay?"

"Y-yeah. Fine with me."

They walked in and froze.

All they saw were witches and wizards staring at the back of the store as if transfixed by something. Many witches were standing in a line that reached way past the door.

Hermione and Harry walked closer and Harry let out an exasperated, "Oh!"

Draco Malfoy was sitting at a long table and had books in front of him.

"Malfoy!"

The blonde looked up and smirked. "Potter. And the Mudblood. Well, has the Golden Trio come to have me sign their copies of my autobiography?"

"There's only t - autobiography??"

"That's right, Mudblood," Malfoy sneered, "you didn't think that I had plans after my wretched father was thrown into Azkaban?"

Hermione and Harry were silent.

"Where's Weasel? You two never go anywhere without that red headed freak."

Harry frowned. "He's dead, Malfoy. I'm surprised you never realized that after seventh year."

Hermione turned her face away and stuffed her fist in her mouth to keep from crying out.

Unfortunately for her, she missed the totally surprised look on Malfoy's smug face.

"Dead, Potter? The Weasel kicked the bucket? He snuffed it?"

"WE GET IT, MALFOY!!" Harry shouted.

Hermione looked furiously through her tears at the ridiculously arrogant face of Malfoy.

"I knew it would happen one of these days," he said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head. "you just have to wait-"

Before anyone could stop her, Hermione came around and kicked the back legs of the chair clear off the floor; Draco went down with a thud.

But Hermione wasn't through yet. She lifted Draco off the floor, slammed him into a wall, and spat in his face.

"You-sodding-son-of-a-"

"Hermione!" Harry said, trying to pry her away from Malfoy, who was shaking uncontrollably with surprise.

"IF YOU SAY ONE MORE NASTY THING ABOUT RON," she roared, "I'LL HEX YOUR SMUG HEAD CLEAR OFF YOUR PUNY, PUTRID NECK!!!!"

She gathered up an ocean full of spit in her mouth and shot it at Malfoy. She hit his eye; just the target she was aiming for.

She kicked him in the...well, below the belt (way, way below the belt,) and held his chin up with her hand.

She put her other hand right in front of Malfoy's face and gave him the finger.

"Let that be a lesson to you," she breathed furiously, "never mess with a Mudblood." Then she placed her hand on top of his blonde head and shoved him towards the ground.

As Hermione and Harry left the store in a huff, wizards and some witches applauded, however, the other witches in line gave them the finger and muttered furiously at them.

"Hermione!" Harry said, torn between amusement, disapproval, being impressed, and terror, "that was...what the bloody hell were you thinking?!"

"You want to know what I was thinking?" she asked furiously, "I was thinking why wait until he dies of old age? Nineteen is a reasonable age!"

Harry looked at Hermione and said softly, "What about seventeen?"

Hermione froze. She stared at Harry, then finally threw herself upon his neck.

"Ron's gone," she sobbed, "We'll never see him again! He's gone!"

"No, Hermione," Harry said, patting Hermione on the back, "he'll always be looking down on us and laughing his head off. He'll see how you just took care of Malfoy and he'll laugh his sodding head off."

Hermione looked into Harry's green eyes, feeling a little better.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand, "would I lie to you?"