"Hermione! Hermione!" a woman shouted, rushing across the front yard. Hermione looked at her and smiled, giving the woman a big hug. The woman was Marge Nullin; Hermione's neighbor. Hermione and Marge had always been fairly close, as far as neighbors go; Marge had been the saddest to learn that the Grangers were moving to England.
"Oh darling, you came back," Marge said, "Let me guess, you had enough of those stuffy Brits and decided to come home."
"Hey, I'm one of those stuffy Brits, and no, I'm sorry to say that Lilith and I aren't coming home, I just needed to deal with some of my affairs in New York," Hermione explained.
"Oh," Marge said, obviously disappointed, "so, where is Lilith?"
"She's still at school," Hermione said, "I wasn't sure how long this would take and I didn¡¯t want her to miss too much school."
"You're a teacher at her school, right?" Marge asked, helping Hermione push open the door; it had gotten stiff with all the ice forming around the edges.
"Yes," Hermione replied, giving the door one last push. It swung open on its squeaky hinges. The inside of the house looked as if it had been lived in yesterday; Hermione had left everything, the furniture, the television, the computer; as she would obviously not need any of it in Hogwarts. Before she had left, Hermione, Remus and Sirius had used every housekeeping charm they could think of to tidy up the house.
"So, Hermione," Marge said, "how do you like your new job in England?"
"I actually like it a lot," Hermione replied, putting her suitcase on the table and opening it. She began removing the clothing and laying it out on the table so she could access it easily; reaching her hand in, she felt the cold glass of the potion vial, which she left inside. She couldn't explain away the pink potion by calling it British cough serum.
"What are you teaching?" Marge asked.
"Oh, generic subjects, a bit of everything," Hermione replied, unable to think of a better lie.
"Sounds fun," Marge said, "how long are you planning to stay?"
"Just a few days," Hermione said, "I have a few things that I need to take care of but then I need to head back."
"A few days?" Marge asked, "don¡¯t you have a return ticket? It's right after holiday season; tickets are hard to come by."
"Oh, don't worry about me Marge, I'll manage," Hermione said.
"Of course you will, deary," Marge replied, smiling at Hermione, "but I need to run now, I have some pies in the oven that are going to burn."  
Marge exited Hermione's kitchen and closed the door quietly behind her. Once Marge was gone, Hermione pulled out her Bell Atlantic phone book and began searching for a listing. The woman who she had told Minerva would be suitable for the position of Muggle Studies teacher was a former colleague of hers. June Kealy was a woman a few years older than Hermione, in her late 40's or early 50's; she had descended from Irish immigrants and was notable in the hospital for having a great sense of humor and for being very accepting of alternate lifestyles; she had even occasionally shown up to work in the hospital wearing clothing that strongly reminded Hermione of something one would find in Madam Malkin's.
Finally Hermione found the listing. Picking up her phone, she began to dial but heard no dial tone; the phone company had disconnected her phone.
"Damn it," Hermione cursed, throwing down the phone and glaring at the receiver.
~*~

Lilith sat at her desk in the Charms room waiting for her mother, her teacher, to arrive. She hadn't seen Hermione at breakfast, but no one had told her anything, so Lilith assumed that Hermione had just slept in.
"Good Morning class," Sirius said, walking into the classroom and placing a pile of papers on the desk, on Hermione's desk. "Well, we're all bright and chipper this morning. What happened to your smiles? Leave them at home?" Sirius grinning as he pulled out the attendance list and began taking roll.
Lilith waved her hand in the air, nearly standing up in her seat, causing many in her class to look at her oddly.
"Yes Lilith, I see that you're here," Sirius said, making an exaggerated check on his list.
"No Professor, I¡­" Lilith said.
"Oh, no you're not here?" Sirius said, "Sure coulda fooled me."
"Professor, I am here; Professor," Lilith sighed as Sirius turned his back and her and began writing on the board. It was almost as if he were ignoring her on purpose. "Professor! Where is my mom, I mean, Professor Potter?"
Sirius stopped writing and turned around, looking at Lilith with an almost pained expression, "Professor Potter is not here today; she is running an errand for the Headmistress. I can't explain anymore at the moment. Now then, today we will be leaning some simple bubble charms. These charms as virtually useless, but very pretty. Just point your wand at the thing you want to put into a bubble and concentrate very hard on a big bubble."
Just then Remus stuck his head into the room.
"Sirius," Remus hissed quietly. Sirius didn¡¯t notice him, as Sirius was standing with his back towards the door. "Sirius," Remus hissed again and again he wasn¡¯t noticed, as one of the students had just sent his desk flying up into the ceiling with an improperly cast Bubble Charm.
"PADFOOT!" Remus finally hollered, causing Sirius to whip around and the class to start laughing.
"Yes Moony?" Sirius asked innocently, "I take it you wish to speak with me."
"Stop being a git and give me a minute of you oh so precious time, Sirius. Or should I call you Snuffles?" Remus said sarcastically, holding the door open for Sirius.
"No, ah, that won't be necessary, Remus," Sirius said, exiting the room. "I'll just be a minute, class, continue practicing," he instructed his class before shutting the door behind him.
Once he was outside, the class erupted in laughter.
"Snuffles?" Celia shrieked, "Snuffles?" Celia was literally rolling on the floor with laughter.
"Well," Rosalind said, "I always knew those two were friends, but I never knew they were friends in that way, if you know what I mean." This comment sent the class into another fit of laughter.
"No, no, really guys," Lilith said, holding onto a desk for support, "my mom and her friends used to call Sirius that when they were owling back and forth with him, you know, before he was cleared from his charges, so that if the letter was intercepted the Ministry wouldn¡¯t know who it was from."
"Sure, Lilith," Rosalind said, "that's what you mum wants you to think. Sharing a dorm for all those years¡­both single and living in the same castle, and¡­"
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Rosalind," Kyle, a boy in their year, said, giving her a playful punch on the arm.
"Yes, Rosalind," Remus said, opening the door again, "it doesn¡¯t become a lady such as you."
Rosalind turned a bright shade of pink and stammered a reply.
"Don¡¯t worry, Rosalind, I didn¡¯t hear whatever prompted Kyle to say that to you," Remus said, "Lilith, could Sirius and I speak to you for a moment?"
"Sure," Lilith said, shrugging her shoulders.
"Uh, in private? It'll just take a few moments," Remus said. Lilith followed him into the hallway.
"Lilith, about your mother," Sirius said.
"What about her? There's more to it than just running an errand," Lilith said, her hands on her hips in a perfect imitation of her mother.
"Don't worry," Remus said.
"Then tell me where my mother is," Lilith demanded.
"Your mother just had to go back to New York for a bit, to close up your house and speak to some people there on official Hogwarts business," Remus explained, "She is just fine, there is nothing wrong with her. You should be getting an owl from her fairly soon."
"That's it?"
"That's it," Remus said, "You can go back to class now."
Lilith went back into the room, followed closely by Sirius, who stood by the door hesitantly, as if having second thoughts about something.
"Are you sure we should be hiding the truth about Hermione from her own daughter; maybe we should tell her?" Sirius asked.
"Absolutely not," Remus replied, "unless you want to explain that her mother's having a nervous breakdown, dreaming about Harry every night."
Sirius got a pained look on his face, but shook his head in agreement and went back into the classroom.
~*~
Hermione scribbled June Kealy's phone number on her hand and picked up the phone book so that she could put it on the table; it was very heavy and Hermione's didn¡¯t think she could lift it back up to its high shelve.
Reaching the table, which was across the kitchen, Hermione dropped the book and rubbed her sore fingers. Looking up, she saw that had dropped the book on her suitcase; she picked it up so that it would not fall off the table as her suitcase was balance quite precariously on the edge. She went to push it off the piece of luggage, but pulled her hand back quickly.
She looked at her finger. It was bleeding; there was a piece of glass stuck in it. Perplexed, Hermione looked at the phone book. It was still on top of her suitcase, but she realized that it was sopping wet and had a decidedly pink cast to it. The Dreamless Sleep Potion.
Hermione realized that she must have broken the vial holding the potion when she dropped the heavy phone book on it.
Oh shit, Hermione thought; this is the last thing I need right now.
~*~

Chapter 8- Of Atrocious Nightgowns and a Few More Dreams
"So I'll see you tomorrow at noon in your apartment," Hermione said to June Kealy through the phone. Since Hermione's phone was dead, she had gone over to Marge's house; she needed to make a lunch date with June in order to broach the idea of teaching Muggle Studies at Hogwarts.
"It's a date," June replied.
Hermione hung up the phone with a click and left the room to find Marge.
"Marge? Marge?" Hermione called, walking through the house.
"Here I am, deary," Marge said, coming out of the kitchen with an apron tied around her waist, "I was just fixing myself some supper; it is nearly 7 o'clock."
Hermione looked at her wrist before realizing that she didn't wear a watch. The magical wards around Hogwarts caused all watches to be constantly set at 12:34, for some strange reason.
"Would you like to stay and have a bit of supper with me?" Marge asked.
"Oh, thank you for the invitation, but I really must decline," Hermione said politely, "I'm exhausted from traveling all day and I could just about kill for a hot bath."
Marge laughed. "I know how you feel; I'll just have to have you over tomorrow night then." Marge said as she walked Hermione to the front door. "It is really nice to see you again, Hermione; I'm glad you came to visit, if only for a few days."
~*~
Hermione lay in her warm bubble bath trying to relax. She hadn't been lying to Marge when she said she was tired; Apparating really took a lot of effort, and Hermione had Apparated across the world, literally.
As she rubbed the lavender bubbles into her arm she planned out her evening. She was sure that she would be able to manage without the potion; she had taken nearly half of the vial the previous night, and surely its effects would carry over one night until she could somehow get another batch, Hermione thought.
Brushing some stray bubbles from her hair, she stepped out of the bath. Using her wand and a quick drying charm, Hermione dried out her hair and slipped on her pajamas. Sirius, while well meaning, was not particularly knowledgeable about female sleep ware and had packed Hermione a nightgown that was quite, how to put it, interesting. At least the lavender polka-dots didn't clash too much with the pale yellow background. And, Hermione reflected, the lace was kept to a minimum.
Hermione went into her room and lay down in her bed, staying on the left side. It was an unconscious habit; Hermione was never able to sleep on the right side of a bed. That was Harry's side.
Hermione drifted off to sleep peacefully, the moonlight shining in through the window.

Hermione sat on the stone bench, rubbing her eyes and trying to compose herself. She had just dropped Lilith off at school and was walking home. She hoped to just crawl back into bed when she got home and sleep until it was time to get Lilith from school.
It was merely two years from Harry's death. It should have been her; he should have cast the charm on himself and saved himself. He wouldn't have run away. Hermione would have been happy knowing that he was alive, but he wasn't, and Hermione could barely cope at times. Staying awake, merely staying alive, was a chore, one that frequently she wished she could forego with.
As Hermione sat on the bench, she heard two women walk behind her. She recognized the voices as mothers of students in Lilith's class. She ignored them, until she heard her name.
"What about that new girl?" one mother asked.
"Which one?" the other woman responded, "Oh, do you mean that Lily something."
"Yes, I believe it's Lilith," the first lady said, "What a horrible name. Some sort of witch from the Bible. What sort of mother would name her child after a witch?"
"Well," the second woman said, "you should see the mother. Total mess, probably on welfare. I doubt if that woman has ever done anything worthwhile in her life."
"I know, have you seen her clothing? Virtual rags; looks like she sleeps in them."
"Have you ever seen a father anywhere around?"
"No, and neither has the child. My Alice asked Lilith about her father and she said that her father went away."
The other woman sniffed haughtily, "Probably never been married in her life, that mother. I doubt if she can even remember which one the father was."
"Most likely," the first woman said as they walked out of hearing distance.
Hermione let out the sob that she had been containing while the women were near. Never in Hermione's entire life did she ever think she would be spoken of in those term, absolutely never.
Hermione woke up slowly, blinking slowly in the bright moonlight that flooded into her room like a river. She had gotten up off that park bench, determined to clear her name. She had headed to a small store she knew of, run by a Muggle, that would take grades from magical schools and magical accomplishments and translate them into equivalent Muggle grades. From there she had gone to New York University and applied for undergraduate classes, beginning them as soon as she could.
When Hermione had gotten off that park bench, she had resolved never to be held back by her past. Obviously she still mourned for her Harry, but she had always tried to keep the memories locked in the back of her head; she had never truly reflected on them after that day, especially not Harry's final and fatal sacrifice.
Though the dream she had just had had not disturbed her as much as previous dreams had, she couldn't bear the thought of going to sleep without the potion, but she saw no other option; she couldn¡¯t make the potion without her potion ingredients and cauldron, neither of which she had brought with her.
Hermione slapped herself mentally; she didn¡¯t have the ingredients, but Snape, back at Hogwarts, did. All she would have to do would be to send him an owl and he would make her the potion.
Hermione got out of the bed, went over to where she had put all of her things, and pulled out the sheaf of owl post paper she had brought with her. Selecting one of the pieces that was not soaked with the spilt potion, Hermione wrote Snape a quick letter.
Severus-
During my trip to New York, the vial of Dreamless Sleep Potion, which you were so kind to have made me, broke in my suitcase. Would you please quickly make me another batch? I really need it.
Much Obliged,
Hermione Potter

Hermione folded and sealed the letter, addressing it to Hogwarts c/o Severus Snape. When she stood up, she mentally slapped herself for the second time that night. She didn¡¯t have an owl. Hermione really needed the potion, and to get it, she really needed to owl Snape. There was only one solution.
Picking up her wand in one hand and the letter in the other, Hermione Apparated to Kramer Alley using her last remaining strength. Upon arriving, she quickly walked to the Owl Post Office.
"Hello, good evening, how many I help you?" the wizard behind the desk asked Hermione, looking at her strangely, as she was still in the nightgown, now rumpled from sleep.
"Yes, hello, I'd like to send this letter to Hogwarts," Hermione said, "express owl, please."
The wizard went into a room behind the desk and came out with a large tawny owl. "That'll be 4 Galleons, ma'am."
Hermione patted her waist and mentally slapped herself yet again. There was no pocket on the nightgown. She had forgotten her money bag. Hermione was about ready to start hitting her head against the wall.
The wizard looked at Hermione, "Ma'am, you need to give me 4 Galleons before I can send the letter."
"Yes, yes, I know," Hermione said, "I forgot my purse at home, okay? It's been a very long day, and if I cannot send this letter now, it will be an even longer night."
"Um, ma'am, I'm sorry that it's been a bad day for you, but I still need the 4 Galleons."
"Can't you please send the owl on credit? I can pay you tomorrow. I'll give you my name and where you can reach me. Please?"
The wizard looked doubtful. "I'm really not supposed to do that, ma'am."
"Then let me speak to your superior. This letter needs to be sent."
The wizard disappeared into the back room and came out with another wizard, whose was wearing a name tag that proclaimed him to be named Monty.
"Now, what seems to be the problem, lady," Monty said, his clipped American accent making his words seem all the more brusque.
"I have this letter that I really need to send to Hogwarts now, but I forgot my money bag at home and I don't think that I can Apparate there and have enough energy to come back here," Hermione explained desperately, "I just Apparated in from England this afternoon."
"Well, I'm sorry ma'am, but we need to have you pay us," Monty explained.
"Isn't there anything I can do," Hermione pleaded, "I can give you my name and address. I promise I will pay you."
"Alright, just give me your name, ma'am," Monty said, pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill.
"Hermione Potter," Hermione said.
The two men looked at Hermione in disbelief.
"Come off it," Monty said, "you're not THE Hermione Potter. I heard she's teaching at Hogwarts. Why would she be in New York?"
"She is, I mean, I am teaching at Hogwarts, but I needed to run an errand for Minerva McGonagall in New York and I need to send her this letter," Hermione said.
The two wizards still looked doubtful.
"What can I do to prove to you that I am Hermione Potter?" Hermione said, exasperated.
The two wizards whispered between themselves and then the younger one went into the backroom again.
He came out with what Hermione recognized to be a Sneakoscope. She remembered that Harry used to have one; it would squeal all the time. Hermione shook her head; this was no time to be reminiscing.
"Say you name to this here Sneakoscope," Monty said, "and then we'll see if you're lying or not."
"My name is Hermione Potter," Hermione said; the Sneakoscope was silent. "I teach Charms at Hogwarts. I am Head of Gryffindor House. I used to be married to Harry Potter."
Hermione crossed her arms and looked at the two men impatiently. "Well, can I send my letter now? You can track me down at Hogwarts if I forget to pay."
"Oh, no need ma'am, don't worry," Monty said, releasing the owl which carried her letter; the owl swooped out though the window. "You don¡¯t need to pay; it's on the house. We're very sorry for the inconvenience. Have a nice night, Mrs. Potter."
"Uh, well," Hermione said, not sure of what to say. She was not used to special treatment because of her name; in the past 11 years her name meant nothing special and at Hogwarts in recent months everyone was her friend, not in awe of her. "Thank you gentlemen. I much appreciate your courtesy."
Hermione headed out of the shop and Apparated home.
~*~
The cup of instant coffee sat on a coaster on Hermione's desk as she turned the page of the medical journal she was reading. Even though she loved magic and loved Hogwarts, she had also loved her work as a Muggle doctor; she and Harry had planned to attend mediwizard school after the war and learn magical medicine. Of course, those plans had been shattered in a flash of green light.
Hermione rubbed her eyes and blinked quickly. She had been awake for a long time and she was starting to feel very tired; that Apparating, combined her earlier dream, really had exhausted her.
The book slid out of her hands and her eyelids sank, sending Hermione into the realm of dreams for the second time that evening, sweet or otherwise.
~*~

"You, you, bloody idiot!" Sirius shouted, leaning across the table to glare murderously at Snape. After the owl from Hermione had arrived Snape had hurried off to make a new batch of potion, but now a small group of staff members, those who knew Hermione from before, were sitting in the staff room.
"I made her the potion as a favor," Snape said quietly, his hands flat on the desk, pulling him out of his seat a bit. "She broke the vial through her own clumsiness."
"Why you.." Sirius lunged at Snape; it took both Remus and Neville to hold him back.
"Severus, why didn't you put an anti-breaking charm on it? That was highly irresponsible of you" Minerva asked sharply, her patience virtually nil, with the bickering of a certain two staff members severely grating on her nerves.
"Minerva, it was four in the morning," Snape said, "I just didn't have my wand on me and I didn't think Hermione would be so stupid as to break the vial. It's glass; it's fragile. She ought to be smart enough to realize that."
Sirius growled at Snape, causing the potions master to push his seat away from the table, away from Sirius Black. The only staff member actively, physically, showing his annoyance with Snape was Sirius, but the rest of the congregated staff, Remus, Neville, Minerva, and Fleur, was glaring at Snape.
"Your attitude is not appreciated, Severus," Minerva said, "Hermione is going through a very difficult time; you would do well to support her, or at least disguise your utterly undeserved contempt, if you wish to remain at Hogwarts. And I do not wish to even start on your hostility and rudeness tonight to your colleagues, myself included," Minerva glared at Snape, as if daring him to defy her.
"My apologies if I've hurt your feelings, Minerva," Snape said, throwing up his arms, "but this is incredible; she's having a few bad dreams. So what? I went through living hell after abandoning You-Know-Who; Granger doesn't know what a bad dream is."
"Her name," Remus said crisply, "is Hermione Potter. You ought to at least know the names of you colleagues. I can introduce them to you, if you would bow down to the level of a werewolf." Remus' voice had a decidedly sarcastic edge to it.
"Severus Snape!" Minerva shouted over the din that had erupted after Snape's last comment, "You will change your attitude this instant and start helping Hermione, or you will find yourself without a job very, very quickly. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Minerva," Snape said coldly, "but there is nothing anyone can do for Hermione. She must deal with this 'issue' of hers by herself. I can only suggest that she make a Pensieve, but that's only the opinion of a Slytherin. I doubt she will set any store by it." Snape sneered at Sirius who tried to attack him again.
"Sirius, stop that; you are acting remarkable immature; no, Neville, stop, don't do that, Neville; Remus, don't egg them on. Lay down your wands this instant, all of you or you are all fired," Minerva bellowed, standing on her chair and waving her arms in the air, her face flushed red, "NO, Fleur, not you too, please everyone STOP; YOU WILL ALL BE FIRED, stop this brawl. AHH! Aim that thing away from me Remus," Minerva said as she ducked out the way of a renegade hex. She stomped out the room, throwing her hands up in exasperation as the staff room behind her dissolved into a scene more reminiscent of a brawl after a Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch game than the workplace of the magical world's smartest wizards and witches.
~*~

The emergency room was a chaotic scene when Hermione walked in through the double glass doors to begin her night shift. There were doctors in lab coats and nurses in aprons rushing back and forth, pushing gurneys on which rested numerous patients. There were more people in the emergency room than Hermione had ever seen.
"Dr. Granger, Dr. Granger," Marcie, a nurse Hermione knew, rushed over to her, "thank the lord you're here. We are in a complete mess; there was some sort of explosion and we have all these patients in here. We don't know what happened; all the patients seem crazy." Marcie ran her hands threw her hair, which was matted to her head.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
"We asked a few what happened, and, and," Marcie handed Hermione the record sheet, "they all have this ridiculous story of people in black cloaks and masks appearing in the street."
Hermione was speechless. It couldn't be. Could it?
Mistaking Hermione's silence for something other than what it was, Marcie continued, "It gets better. Then they all say that these other people suddenly appear wearing purple robes and pointing sticks at the black cloaked people. According to this one guy who was close enough to hear what they were saying, they said something like 'Put down your wands; Voldemort will never win.' Then both sides pointed their sticks at each other and there was an explosion."
"Really?" Hermione's voice was squeaky. Marcie's account of the event left no doubt in Hermione's mind.
"Yea," Marcie said, shaking her head, "we don't know what really happened though. We just have to deal with the injured and.."
Marcie was cut off by a gurney which flew past them.
"Dr. Granger, help us," a man pushing it called to her. Hermione waved to Marcie and followed the gurney into the corner.
The head doctor, Hermione recognized him as Lee Johnson, handed Hermione a pair of gloves which she put on. Dr. Johnson pulled down the sheet that had covered the body. Hermione gasped.
It was Seamus.
He was wearing a purple robe, which Hermione immediately recognized as the uniform of an Auror.
"Dr. Granger? Dr. Granger?" Dr. Johnson asked her, tapping her shoulder, "We need to fix his left leg."
"What's the matter with it?" Hermione said, trying to overcome her shock.
"Well, it appears that, well, um, this is a certainly a first," Dr. Johnson said, his confusion apparent in his voice.
"Pardon?" Hermione knew that the team of Muggle doctors she worked with would be unable to do anything for Seamus, if he had indeed been wounded in a magical battle.
"Well," Dr. Johnson said slowly, "it appears as if there is no bone."
Hermione raised her eyebrows.
"Look," Dr. Johnson poked Seamus' leg. It looked like he was playing with putty.
"What can we do?" Hermione said. This was a relatively minor injury; once Seamus regained consciousness and got himself to St. Mungo's, it could be dealt with in no time, but she doubted that her hospital had Skelegrow in its pharmacy.
"I'm going to get someone to help us, in the meantime you try to find some ID on this man," Dr. Johnson let the curtain fall closed behind him as he left, muttering something about the effect of combining sleep deprivation, Advil and too much caffeine.
Hermione raised her hand to her face and felt the moisture in her eyes. Tears. It had been 7 years since she had seen a wizard or witch. Why must it happen under these circumstances?
She looked at Seamus, lying unconscious on the gurney, and silently cursed at him for coming into her life. Why couldn't he just go away? Sighing, Hermione looked for ID, not for a wallet, but for magical ID. She might be living as a Muggle, but she didn¡¯t want Dr. Johnson to find Seamus' Apparition license.
She took her scalpel and slit the front of the purple robe, revealing a hidden pocket that every Auror had. She pulled out the parcel in the pocket and untied the ribbon that bound everything together.
On the top was an Apparition license, under it was a card identifying Seamus as an Auror, 2nd class, and the third piece of paper was a letter carrying instruction as to what should be done with Seamus, should he be found dead. Hermione knew that there was something else in the pocket. She felt around and found what she had been looking for. A wand.
Hermione slipped Seamus' wand into her pocket and held the rest of the papers in her hand, just looking at them for a moment. Then she slipped them into the bin marked Biological Waste: DO NOT OPEN. That would hide them from Muggle eyes, should Seamus' body be examined.
That taken care of, Hermione took his wand out of her pocket and, looking around to make sure she was alone, tapped Seamus' leg gently. The flesh filled out as the bone re-grew itself. Hermione checked to make sure that it was okay, then slipped Seamus' wand into the disposal bin with the rest of the papers.
The curtains rustled.

"Dr. Johnson," Hermione said hurriedly, "there was no identification on this man."
"Excuse me?" said a man's voice.
Hermione looked up and realized that it was not Dr. Johnson. It very much wasn't Dr. Johnson. It was Dean, and he was looking at Hermione. Hermione moved her arm so as to block her name tag.
"What authorization do you have to be here?" Hermione demanded, willing her voice to remain steady.
"None, ma'am," Dean said, "I've just come to take this man with me."
"Excuse me, you cannot just take my patient with you!" Hermione said.
Dean looked at Seamus, taking in the slit robe with the empty emergency pocket; he probed Seamus' leg, feeling the new bone. Confused, he bent down for a closer look and saw the small star-shaped mark that had been left by the recent bone-growing charm.
Dean raised his head and looked at Hermione's face thoughtfully.
"And what may your name be, doctor?" Dean asked, searching Hermione's face for something.
"That, mister, is none of your business," Hermione said, "And you will leave now, before I call security!" Hermione pointed her finger at the curtain.
Dean looked quickly at the nametag, which Hermione had mistakenly uncovered. Hermione quickly covered her name up again.
"Well, I saw a 'G'," Dean said, grinning slightly, his eyes shifting from Seamus to Hermione quickly, "So, Dr. G, I'll just be taking this chap with me. Must be getting back; his mum will start worrying."
"You, uh, shouldn't transport an unconscious man," Hermione said, grasping at straws, "Seamus could get hurt."
Hermione wanted to slap herself; Dean hadn't told her Seamus' name. Dean caught Hermione's error.
"How did you know my friend's name? Did you find any ID on him? Driver's license?" Dean asked, almost mockingly.
Hermione just stared at Dean, their eyes meeting. "Just, just, take your friend, Seamus, whatever his name is, and get out before my superior gets back and starts asking questions."
Dean unlocked the wheels of the gurney, pushing it slowly and carefully away. Before he exited the curtain, Dean turned to Hermione and looked her in the eye. Hermione could feel the tears beginning to well up in her eyes, and she knew that Dean could tell.
"Whatever floats your boat," Dean muttered, pushing the gurney away, "Dr. Granger."
When Dean left, Hermione sat down on the floor and put her head in her hands. She began to cry.
"Why can't you leave well enough alone?"
Hermione was woken by the scratching of an owl on her window. Dazed, she opened the window and allowed the owl to deliver its parcel, a vial of pink potion with a small note identifying the potion as a Dreamless Sleep Potion.
This is only a few hours late, Hermione thought wryly as she drank a big mouthful of the potion. Wiping her mouth, Hermione thought back to her dream; Dr. Johnson had come back into the room and found Hermione on the floor weeping. He had assumed that the patient had passed away and the body had been taken away for autopsy. Instead of asking questions, he had just helped Hermione up to an empty room and let her sleep on the hospital bed. Hermione had lain in bed for two days trying to reconcile her emotions after the encounter.
After she was sure that no one had made any attempts to contact her, Hermione had gotten out of the bed and gone home, eventually pushing the meeting towards the back of her mind, to be stored with the other memories of magic and Harry.
Shaking her head as if to clear it of the memory of the expression on Dean's face, Hermione looked at the wall clock. It read 11:00.
Oh damn, Hermione thought, I'm going to be late to the meeting with June.
And with that, Hermione grabbed her cloak and ran out of the door, pushing the memory of her two recent dreams into the back of her head where they had lived for 11 years, but they would be back, oh yes, they would be back.
~*~

Hermione sipped the cup of lavender tea that June had made her. Hermione and June were sitting in June's living room, chatting about an assortment of topics; Hermione had yet to mention Hogwarts or the real reason that she had come to New York.
"So, where in England are you living?" June asked, spooning some sugar into her tea.
This was the perfect moment to bring up Hogwarts.
"Well," Hermione replied, "I'm not actually living anywhere in England that you would find on a map."
"Oh," June laughed, "my grandparents lived in a town like that in Ireland. There were 10 inhabitants on a good day."
"That's not exactly what I was talking about," Hermione responded, putting down her teacup.
"Oh, do explain. I am all ears; I love an interesting story," June replied. Hermione had just opened her mouth when there was a loud *crash* from the back of the apartment, followed by what Hermione could have sworn was a hoot.
A teenage girl, about Lilith's age, came into the room; she had a look of trepidation on her face.
"Vikki, this is Hermione," June introduced them, "Hermione, this is my granddaughter Vikki."
Hermione put her hand out to shake with Vikki. Vikki went to shake her hand, but she quickly transferred an object from her right hand to her left hand. The object appeared to be a piece of wood, a strangely smooth, long piece of wood. If Hermione's eyes weren't fooling her, she would have sworn it was a wand.
"Vikki," June said, her hands on her hips, "what happened?"
"Well, I didn't mean it Grandma," Vikki said, "I was just trying to reach one of my books that is on the top of my bookshelves and I knocked over Cicero's cage."
"Cicero?" Hermione asked.
"He's my pet owl," Vikki said.
"Really?" Hermione said, looking at Vikki carefully, "Why do you have a pet owl?"
"Well, he's so great and helpful and¡­"
"Vikki," June interrupted, her eyes darting to Hermione, "we'll talk about this later. We wouldn't want to bore our guest.
Vikki turned to go back into her bedroom, but Hermione stopped her. "Wait, Vikki, you should join us for this conversation. Maybe you can let me look at your owl if he's injured; I'm not expert at owl care, but my own mail owl gets injured sometimes."
Vikki and June just stared at Hermione. "Your own mail owl? Hermione," June said, "are you, a, you know?"
"Witch?" Hermione answered, "yes I am, and that is actually the basis of what I needed to speak to you about."
June and Vikki sat down on the couch, listening to Hermione.
"For a variety of reasons, I lived as a Muggle for 11 years in New York, eventually becoming a doctor at the hospital, but you know that part of the story."
June nodded her head.
"Well, I returned to the magical world a few months ago, to teach at a school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The school has just re-opened after the war and we are in need of some teachers," Hermione said, "We are in dire need of a Muggle Studies teacher; we just can't seem to find any witches or wizards who want the job. It was suggested that we hire a Muggle, and I suggested you. So basically, I came here to ask if you want to come to England and teach at Hogwarts. I was going to have to explain to you all about magic, but since it appears your granddaughter is a witch, it seems you would know a fair bit already."
"Well yes, I do," June said, "that is certainly an interesting job proposition. What exactly is 'Muggle Studies'?"
"It's just a course on Muggles, basic history, electronics, cooking," Hermione said, "It's mainly about how Muggle cope without magic as well as a brief introduction to major events, especially those that correspond with events in the wizarding world."
"I didn't know that there were events that corresponded," June said, picking up the piece of parchment that Hermione had given her.
"Oh, of course there are," Hermione said, "World War II for sure, and the Black Plague was supposedly the result of a death curse."
"A what?" June asked.
"A death curse, one wizard killed another and with his dying breathe he cursed the wizard, legend has it that the curse was 'What you love most shall perish, you rat you,'" Hermione said, "but the other wizard was talented so he managed to alter it such that all the rats would perish, and you know the rest."
"Well, must say that we never learned that in my history class," June said, "This must be the contract then," June said, pointing at the parchment she held in her hand.
"Yes, it explains all the details about the job, including living arraignments and pay," Hermione said.
"What about me?" Vikki asked.
"What about you?" Hermione responded.
"I go to the Appalachian School of Magic," Vikki said, "I'm on vacation this week. If Grandma took the job in England, what would I do?"
"Well, she wouldn't be starting until the next school year, and if you wanted to come with her and go to Hogwarts you can, or you can stay here and see each other during vacations. You could take a Portkey to Hogwarts to be with her."
"I think my mum went to Hogwarts," Vikki said suddenly.
"Pardon?" Hermione asked.
"My daughter in law was a witch, she married my son and had Vikki, but they both died in that big war," June said, "and I think your mum went to school in France, unless this is some magical thing that lets a school be in both France and England at the same time. From what I know of the magical world I wouldn¡¯t be at all shocked."

Hermione laughed, "Actually, there's another school in France, Beauxbatons," Hermione said, "but June, what exactly do you know of the magical world. Minerva, that¡¯s the Headmistress' name, wanted you to spend the summer at Hogwarts learning basic magic so that you can relate to your students better, and be able to recognize pranks, " Hermione added wryly.
"Oh, I know basic facts," June said, "when Vikki got her school books earlier this year I read them all, but I obviously wasn¡¯t able to do any of the magic."
"Actually, June," Hermione replied, "Muggles are able to make simple potions that don¡¯t require additional charms, just basic ones though."
"Really?" June said, obviously interested, "do you think you could teach me any of them?"
"You'll have to speak to Severus Snape about that, he's the potion master," Hermione said, "but from what I know of him, he'd rather be fed to blast-ended skrewts than do anything helpful."
"Hermione Granger," June said, shocked, "I've never known you to speak of someone like that."
"Hermione Granger?" Lilith asked, "your name sounds familiar. Are you famous or something?"
"Vikki," June said, shocked, "that was extraordinarily rude. I'm very sorry Hermione."
"No, no, there's no need to apologize," Hermione said, "Yes, Vikki, I imagine my name would appear in a few history texts as a part of the second Voldemort War."
"Why exactly?" Vikki said, "We haven't gotten up to that part, I was just reading ahead, history is one of my favorite subjects so I like reading about it as much as I can."
"Well," Hermione said, "there are probably a number of reasons. I was a leader of the Aurors at the beginning, and I attended Hogwarts and was involved directly with the initial rise of Voldemort."
"No," Vikki said, "I don¡¯t think it was anything like that. Could it have been anything else?"
"The only other thing I can think of was that I was married to Harry Potter," Hermione said quietly; she hated being recognized by being Harry's wife.
"Yes, yes that must be it," Vikki said, "A few girls in my dorms, full witches who grew up in the magical world, must have mentioned your name sometime. That's really cool, " Vikki said, her voice slightly awed, "Wow, that'd be amazing to really be involved in history like that."
"It was, at times," Hermione said, "so June," she said, switching topics quickly, "do you think that you will consider the job? We'd love to have you on staff with us."
"I'm not sure," June said, "it sounds fascinating, but I need to give it more consideration."
"You think about that, and I must be going now, just owl me with your mail owl at Hogwarts with any questions you have," Hermione said.
June and Vikki showed her out the door. Hermione had enjoyed her visit, she liked June's company, but she hated being recognized for her fame. She didn¡¯t feel deserving of it; after all, she had run away, and Harry had died saving her. If only she hadn't been there that day. But she was, and there was no changing that, not then, not now, not ever.
~*~
When Hermione got home to her apartment she found a few letters waiting for her, presumably delivered by the brown owl sitting on her kitchen table.
She went through the letters, nothing special except for two letters, one from Lilith and one from Sirius and Remus.
Dear Mom,
Lucky you, you get to visit New York, while I have to stay in school. Hmph. Not fair, and you haven't written me any letters yet. Remus and Sirius said that you would. Do you think that there is a way that you could give the attached letter to Donna? (You'd never imagine how hard it is to find normal paper in this school! Only parchment.)
Seriously, Remus and Sirius were leaving something out when they told me why you were going to New York. If it were just to interview the teacher why didn¡¯t you tell me before you went? Was it some kind of emergency?
-Lilith
Hermione ran her hand through her hair, sighing. She would have to deal with Lilith when she got back to school; Lilith deserved the truth, but Hermione understood that it wasn't Remus' or Sirius' place to tell it to Lilith. It was her job, as a mother.
Sirius and Remus' letter was a bit more cryptic.
Hermione,
How is New York treating you? We hope you are fine. I (Remus) told Sirius about your nightmares; I thought he could be trusted, unlike Snape, whom I unfortunately also had to tell about them; I couldn¡¯t think up any other story to tell him at 4 in the morning when I woke him up. I hope you understand. Sirius has been furious at Snape for not agreeing to help you immediately and then forgetting to charm the vial unbreakable. They have already had a number of fights, including one in the middle of the staff meeting. Poor Neville had to go the infirmary.
Before Sirius and Snape disrupted the meeting by attacking each other, Snape had mentioned that when he was having issues after he abandoned Voldemort making a Pensieve helped him. He didn¡¯t get to elaborate, but maybe you have heard of something like that in a book of yours? I'll look for some mention of it in the library.
We hope to see you soon; we have been teaching your Charms classes, so don¡¯t worry about that, everything has been going smoothly.
-Remus Lupin

~*~

I'll ¼ÓÖØ it for you~~