The Answer to Our Life

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The Answer to Our Life

Give me a reason, give me a sign

Tell me the way we fall out of line

Is it today, or is it tonight

We find

The answer to our life

-Backstreet Boys 'The Answer To Our Life'

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Prologue

All in all, Hermione Anne Granger liked her little house in London. It was blue, her favorite color, with yellow trimming. She had a small garden in front filled with lilies, daisies, and roses. In back was a large tree with thick, low branches. There was a tree house in the tree, not too high up. She loved to go there and reflect the day's events when things got to be too much. The inside of her little home was neat and clean. The living room, painted a soft blue, had nice, soft, blue furniture. The fireplace was clean and free of ash, and the mantel held a gold clock, a china figurine of a girl, and a porcelain doll.

The doll looked exactly like Hermione, and she was wearing a pale blue work suit, white stockings, and proper-looking black high heels. The heels, in real life, would be about an inch and a half. The doll's blouse was pale yellow, and her hair was pulled back in a braid. Hermione sometimes liked to take the doll down, and, with the utmost care, change its outfit, hairstyle, and shoes. She did that about once a month.

The kitchen was neat as a pin, with every dish and cooking object in its proper place. The counter was clear of crumbs, and the sink shone. The table had a checked blue and white tablecloth over it, and the cushions on the chairs matched perfectly. The oven mitts hung in the space between the cupboards and the counter, and the dish soap and cleaning supplies were properly under the sink. The stove, oven, and microwave all shone like new. Even though the definite age of the oven and stove were a mystery, she had brought the microwave with her when she had moved in a mere six years ago. The walls were painted white, and all the wood was a fine oak that shone.

The guestroom was painted a sandy brown, and had a pattern of roses along the walls. There was a nice, roomy closet that Hermione cleaned once a month, or when company was coming. The carpet was a soft off white, and the curtains matched the color of the roses, a pretty burgundy. As well, the sheets on the bed were burgundy, and the pillowcases, too. The comforter was white with a foreground of even more burgundy roses with dark green stems. The bedstead was a nice oak, and matched the bedside table, chair, and desk. The lampshades were dark green, and there was a dark green dresser in the corner with a basket of fake roses on top.

Hermione's study was wallpapered with blue paper with a foreground of yellow lilies. There was a shelf of books in the corner, and floor was wood, so that her chair moved around easily. There was an oak desk in the far corner with a computer of the latest technology upon it. A lamp was right next to the monitor, and a file cabinet stood right next to the desk. There was a desk nearer to the door upon which there was nothing but a mug that said 'Why let men do all the work? We women are just as good!' with a number of pens and pencils in it. There was also a lamp, and set of boxes, one for finished, and an empty one for unfinished paperwork upon it. There were a couple more file cabinets, and that was all.

The main bathroom was actually quite plain. The shower curtain, towels, and the fuzzy bathroom mats were all navy blue. The walls, sink, shower/tub, toilet, hinging racks, and the woodwork were white. Everything was carefully stored under the sink except for the soap. The walls and floor were tiled with white tiles.

Now, I bet some of you are about to go and look for another story, because all this entire fic does so far is describe Hermione's house. Don't leave yet, I'm almost finished. There's just her bedroom, the garage, and the attic left.

I believe that most of you think that the garage is one of the messiest rooms in a house. Well, Hermione's garage is very clean. All her yard supplies were hung neatly in a corner; all her tools sat on a shelf in the back. Her trashcans were stowed neatly in another corner. She swept the floor monthly.

It is possible to think that Hermione Anne Granger is a neat freak. That is somewhat true. But she does not go running after someone with a broom just because they got one little spot on her clean carpet.

While Miss Granger's attic was the only place in the house that needed cleaning, her bedroom was painted blue, and had daisies around the walls. The carpet was a matching blue, and there was a nice walk-in-closet and a number of cedar dressers. As well, Her bedstead and nightstand were a red cedar, as well. The lamps were pale yellows, painted to match the daisies. The sheets on her bed were pale shades of yellow, and the comforter was blue with a foreground of yellow daisies. There were a number of bundles of dried flowers hung around the room. The room smelled fragrant.

The only thing Hermione Anne Granger didn't like about her little home on Carter Road in London was a picture that stood on a dresser directly across from her bed. It was a picture of her and a young man with silver framed glasses, bright green eyes, and messy black hair that stuck up in the back. That young man was the person who had made her move into this little blue house. He was the man who had brought her previous life to a screeching halt. He had ruined it. That young man who had his arm around her was-would still be, if he hadn't run off-the love of her life. She hated that picture, but she kept it there out of respect, for that young man was now dead.

On particular mornings, she loved that picture. On others, she simply loathed it. This morning was one of them.