Insomnia

Oh well, okay

Here's the silhouette the face always turned away

The bleeding colour gone to black, dying like a day

Couldn't figure out what made you so unhappy

Shook your head to say no no no

And stopped for a spell

And stayed that way

Oh well, okay

I got pictures, I just don't see it anymore

Climbing hour upon hour through a total bore

With the one I keep where it never fades

In the safety of a pitch black mind

An airless cell that blocks the day

Oh well, okay

If you a get a feeling the next time you see me

Do me a favour and let me know

'Cos it's hard to tell

It's hard to say

Oh well, okay

Oh well, okay

Oh well, okay

Hermione resolutely walked on, ignoring the rain that whipped her about the face and trickled down into her collar. There was only so much an Impervious spell could do. The flooded streets reflected the streetlights, turning London into some kind of miserable fairyland. A cab, like a great black hulking beast, pulled up alongside her, splashing some of the water from the road onto her jeans.

"Fancy a lift somewhere, love?"

Hermione smiled at the cabbie and shook her head.

"No, I'm fine, thanks. I like the rain."

"Suit yourself." The cab drove off and disappeared into the night.

On a street with a pub every three buildings, from which poured happy, drunken Muggles talking in loud slurred voices, trying to hail cabs, and calling out to friends, one could have been forgiven for failing to notice the small dark building on the corner, whose soft glow was no match for the bright lights outside all the pubs.

Hermione walked up the uneven steps and opened the door of the Leaky Cauldron.

Looking around, she realised that she didn't know anyone there, and gave a sigh of relief. She sat at the bar and ordered a Firewater. The bartender disinterestedly poured her a glass of the yellowy-red liquid, set it alight with his wand and gave it to her when the flames had died down and the drink had turned clear. Raising her glass in a silent, unnoticed salute to Ron, Hermione downed the lot in one swallow, and ordered another while she was still gasping from the shock and pain that seared her throat.

Chapter four

Independence Day

Future butterfly gonna spend the day higher than high

You'll be beautiful confusion

Ooh once I was you

I saw you caught between all the people out making the scene

And a bright ideal tomorrow

Ooh, don't go too far

Stay who you are

Everybody knows

Everybody knows

Everybody knows

You only live a day

But it's brilliant anyway

I saw you at a perfect place

It's gonna happen soon but not today

So go to sleep and make the change

I'll meet you here tomorrow

Independence Day

Independence Day

Independence Day

Five years ago.

Hermione shrieked as Fred and George picked her up and put her on their shoulders. They did a lap or two of Diagon Alley like that, singing loudly, ignoring her protests, tailed by Ron and Harry laughing and trying to rescue her. When Ron finally managed to retrieve Hermione from his brothers' clutches, they turned their attentions to Harry, who underwent the same treatment.

When, at last, the twins ran out of steam and deposited Harry back on the ground with his friends, the talk turned to where their little party should go to celebrate.

"Well, I believe the Three Broomsticks is the traditional venue for such festivities," said George with a demonic twinkle in his eye.

"George! It's barely two in the afternoon!" Hermione stared at her friend disapprovingly. "It's not exactly the time to go out drinking."

"And normally, my dear, I would agree totally -" This elicited a "Not likely!" from Ron " - despite what dear ickle Ronny says, but this is a day for celebration."

"Yeah, come on, 'Mione." Fred chimed in. "Harry and Ron want to, don't you?"

Harry and Ron smiled helplessly at Hermione, who rolled her eyes in defeat.

Fred and George shepherded the three younger wizards into the pub, making such a loud noise that everyone turned to look at them. Fred jumped up onto the bar and shouted for everyone's attention.

"Good afternoon to you all! I have the privilege to announce that at 1pm today, the Ministry of Magic formally announced that the three fine young people you see before you have completed their training and are now fully fledged Aurors!"

The tiny room erupted with applause and cheers of congratulations.

Fred continued. "If you haven't already met them - " "and more's the pity to you," mumbled George. " - they are Ronald Weasley, (my very own little brother), and my friends the lovely Hermione Granger and the famous Harry Potter!"

At the mention of Harry's name the applause changed from being merely loud to deafening, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were besieged by people coming up to congratulate them, shaking their hands, slapping them on the shoulders and offering to buy them drinks.

Hermione stood back and watched as Harry, red-faced, accepted the congratulations. Ron, on the other hand, was bathing in the attention, grinning, talking to people, even signing the odd autograph. While Fred was acting as M.C. and ringmaster of the whole show combined, George walked up behind Hermione hugged her.

"Ron's loving this, isn't he?" He grinned at Hermione.

"Well, it's about time he got some recognition. It's not easy to live in the shadow of all you lot, not to mention Harry. And he worked so hard."

"Well, I doubt either of them could have made it without you." Before Hermione could protest, he fixed her with a stern expression. "Seriously, how many nights did you give up to help them learn spells and curses? And you managed to pass as well. You're going to do great things, Hermione."

Hermione felt great feelings of goopiness begin to stir inside her, and she leant over and pecked George on the cheek. Ron spied this and made his way through the flood of well-wishers to jokingly punch George on the arm.

"Oi, you. Hands off my woman." George laughed and Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, is that what I am? Your woman? Not, say, your beautiful sex-goddess, or your brilliant study-mate, or Hermione, future Minister of Magic? Just your woman?"

Ron sighed melodramatically. "Oh, Great Hermione, Ruler of the Known World, can you ever forgive me? Or should I end my life here and now for you?"

Hermione gave him The Look, one she'd perfected after years of talking to Professor McGonagall, and he smiled, leant over, and kissed her. After three years together, he knew that it was the best way to get The Look off her face.

Fred and Harry had found their way over and, along with George, were making "Ooh!" noises at Ron and Hermione.

"Oh, grow up, the lot of you. And it's not like you can talk, Harry." Ron smirked at his friend, who went an interesting shade of puce. Fred and George looked on with interest.

"Ooh, what did Harry do?" said Fred eagerly.

"Harry" Ron paused, savouring the moment "Was discovered smooching with a certain young redheaded sister of mine on the couch last week." George whooped with delight as Fred, mock-sternly, began to ask Harry what his intentions were.

Hermione looked at Ron. "Harry and Ginny, eh? That's an interesting development. I spoke to her last week and she never said anything."

"Yes, and if you don't mind, I'm still trying to get rid of the image of my best friend snogging my little sister. How about I buy you a drink?"

Hermione sighed and nodded. Ron called the bartender over.

"Two Firewaters, thanks." He turned back to Hermione. "Ever had one?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, what are they?"

"What are what?" Harry had escaped from Fred and George, and they had followed him back to Ron and Hermione

"Ron's buying me a Firewater." The twins looked impressed, and ordered some for themselves and Harry.

The yellowy-red drinks arrived, and Hermione went to take one. Ron grabbed her arm and shook his head, just as the bartender waved his wand over the glasses and set fire to them. Hermione yelped in surprise, causing the boys to laugh.

Their laughter died down just as the flames did, and Ron, smiling, handed one to her.

"Okay, now you drink it all in one go." Hermione looked at him skeptically, but he nodded for her to continue. Steeling herself, she raised the glass to her lips, closed her eyes, and offering a silent prayer to any gods who may have been listening, downed the entire glass. Her eyes opened wide as the clear liquid, which seemed to be hot and cold at the same time, coursed down her throat into her stomach. She made a face and gasped, trying to get her breath back.

"What'd you think?" Ron asked, watching her reaction carefully.

"That" Hermione paused to draw breath "Was amazing." She turned to the bartender. "I'll have another, thanks."

Harry laughed. "Look what you've done, Ron, you've led her down the path to ruin and damnation." Hermione poked Harry in the stomach and grinned.

"Hey, I'm 20 years old, and I've just become an Auror. I can drink whatever I damn well feel like."