Here Without You - Ghost of You and Me

A/N: I do not own any character references by JK Rowling in the Harry Potter series or agree with her comments. This story is a product of my pure imagination. I do not profit from this and will not pay for any commissions for art about this story.

A hundred days have made me older,

Since the last time that I saw your pretty face.

A thousand lies have made me colder,

And I don't think I can look at this the same.

But all the miles that separate,

Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face.

I'm here without you, baby.

But you're still on my lonely mind.

I think about you, baby,

And I dream about you all the time.

~ Here Without You by 3 Doors Down

~*~ 20th November 2000 ~*~

Rosella wasn't even up yet when Hermione finished getting dressed after her shower and sat down at her desk to go through the stack of parchment. Bills and receipts covered her desk. Closing her eyes, she realized that she hadn't heard from Harry in a while. Grabbing a sheet of parchment, she put her pen to paper,

Dear Harry,

I hope this finds you well, wherever you are currently in the world. Things are moving along here. The magical side of the store is nearly finished, but the Muggle side is dragging its heels. The kitchen appliances are backordered until at least mid-January, and the tables are also delayed.

I also bought a house. Nothing huge, but it's ours. It's in this wonderful Muggle village, away from the wizarding world. Rosella will have her own room, and I will even have a small guest room, which will, of course, be a library.

You have experienced many different types of teas and coffees during your travels, haven't you? I want something unique for the café menu. Luna wants to work on the menu as well. I begged her to keep it Muggle-friendly, but we know how Luna is.

Yesterday, I put up the HIRING FOR FEBRUARY sign in the window. I'm looking for a Muggle baker, a barista, and two cashiers for the Muggle side. For the Magical side, I'll be looking for three employees. I hope to find a Muggleborn or half-blood who would be happy to work on either side if needed.

Write when you can.

Love,

Hermione

Folding the letter, she slid it into an envelope and took it out to the living room, where her owl sat on its perch. "Sorry to break your slumber, Cinnamon, but I have a letter for you. I don't know where Harry is, but take this to him."

She tied it to its foot, and then it took off out of the open window.

Hermione watched as someone walking by the store pressed their face to the window next to the HIRING FOR FEBRUARY sign, in an attempt to look inside. "Come on, I just washed the windows." She made a note to set up the display shelves later for both sides of the store and put some books on them inside the windows.

Going back to the sample menus that some of the bakers had sent her, the front door chimed, and she looked up to see Luna.

"Hello, Hermione!" Luna said as Neville entered behind her. "I wanted to bring Neville by to see the space." Hermione smiled as Luna spun around. "And, oh! Tell her, Neville!"

Neville's cheeks and ears were a bit pink. "I saw the florist across the alley is for sale. I've been thinking. With my herbology mastery, I could run not only a florist shop, but also grow potions ingredients, specialty flowers, and rare herbs. I could make bouquets and arrangements, too."

Hermione beamed. "If you are interested, I'd love to use your floral arrangements here in the store. We could put some for sale in the café. A touch of colour would be wonderful in it."

Neville smiled, "Really?"

Hermione nodded, "Yes. I would love to do that, Neville."

"Come on, Neville. Let's go check out the lounge area, and you can see where the Pet Shoppe will be," Luna said as she took his hand and started leading him toward the space.

Hermione jumped as the door swung open.

"Hermione! He's captured!" Ron yelled, sliding to a stop in front of them. "Oh, hey, Luna, Neville."

Hermione looked at him, confused. "Who?"

"Greyback," Ron said, "Aurors caught him." They all gasped. "He was sent straight to Azkaban for his crimes. He'll go on trial with the Malfoy trials."

Glancing toward the ceiling, Hermione felt a sense of relief. Rosella was asleep upstairs, unaware that she had just become a little safer.

/\/ <3 /\/ 10th December 2000 /\/ <3 /\/

The morning air was warm and dry, carrying the faint scent of spices and incense from the market up toward Harry as he sat cross-legged on the roof of Aravali School of Wizardry in India, his eyes closed. He felt the warm stone beneath his body. He breathed in and out slowly, as the instructor had taught him. Breathing with intention, they called it.

Since arriving at the school, he had embraced their teachings. Early morning cardio to strengthen the body, hours of meditation to quiet the mind, and afternoons spent learning the principles of Ayurvedic healing. The masters here believed in seeing a person as more than just their symptoms. That every ailment was shaped by the air they breathed, the water they drank, and the land they lived upon. Harry found the delicate balance between habitat, body, and mind, and how to restore it through diet, movement, and mindfulness, fascinating.

Thinking about what one of the healers had told him, that the mind could poison the body, just as easily as bad water, when a soft hoot interrupted him. He opened his eyes to see an owl perched on the low wall of the school, its eyes on him. "Well, hello." He said as he stood up.

The bird shifted, holding out its leg. Two envelopes were tied to it with twine.

"Thank you," Harry murmured, untying the letters. "The owlery is downstairs. Please rest."

The owl blinked, gave a soft hoot, then launched into the air, flying beneath the castle wall.

The first letter had the unmistakable Gringotts deal, all businesslike. He set it aside for the moment. The other bore Hermione's neat handwriting on the front. A smile came to his face as he broke the seal.

Dear Harry,

Write when you can.

Love,

Hermione

Harry read it twice over. He could picture her bustling around her store, quill in her hair as she was deep into planning. Folding up the letter, he gathered both envelopes and went back into the school to his room, which he was using. Sitting at his desk, he opened his Gringotts letter. It was to the point. Lord Potter business needed his attention, in person, at a branch of his choosing. He sighed and folded it up again.

Pulling out a piece of fresh parchment and a quill.

Dear Hermione,

It's so good to hear from you. You'd probably laugh to see me here. I spend most of the mornings running, then meditating under the guidance of some patient masters. It's much like occlumency, and I struggled with it at first. In the afternoon, I study Ayurvedic medicine. It's eye-opening. They teach you to look at the whole person, not just their illness. We explore how their surroundings, including the air, water, and even their lifestyle, are shaping their health.

I've learned that spices like ginger, garlic, cumin, and mustard can help strengthen the body's immune system. Fresh vegetable soups, seasoned just right, can help the body. I've been working with both magical healers and non-magical doctors, and I've even traveled to the Himalayas to learn from herbalists who have been practicing for generations. As far as teas, I gave your information to some contacts I have. I hope they can fit what you are looking for.

I just received a letter from Gringotts. They need me in London for a matter connected to my grandparents' estate. By the time this letter reaches you, I should be there. It will be a short stay, unfortunately, as I leave for China before Christmas. I'm contracted to be in Hong Kong on the 24th. When I come, I'll bring some teas from India for you to try. Maybe they'll suit the café menu.

If you have time, could we meet while I'm in England? Reply by owl when you receive this.

Yours, Harry

Sealing the letter, he walked down to the owlery and chose a long-distance owl. "Take this to Hermione Granger in London." He stated as he tied the envelope to the owl's leg.

The owl hooted, then took off.

Five more days, five more days, and he would be heading back home.

~*~ 19th December 2000 ~*~

The upstairs of the store smelled of the fresh new paint after Luna had painted the beautiful mural in the children's section of the Muggle side of the store. Hermione knelt on the carpet that she had just laid down, placing the last of the beanbag lily pads onto the carpet. On the wall, despite it being painted with Muggle paint, the perfect Rosella lily seemed to bloom right on the wall. The sign hung above the area read in gold script: Rosella's Reading Corner.

Standing up, she looked at how it looked. The soft carpet, the beanbags, the empty shelves. Hermione smiled as warmth filled her chest, letting her forget for just a minute how exhausting the past months had been. Heading downstairs, with a pep in her step, she felt happy.

Outside, the frost gathered on the front window as she saw shoppers bustling past with armfuls of brightly wrapped gifts. She smiled until her eyes fell on the date bouncing around the computer.

And her stomach dropped. It was nearly Christmas, and she hadn't bought a single gift for anyone. Not even Rosella.

In the whirlwind of renovations, ordering stock, arranging permits, and interviewing managers, Christmas had slipped past her. Her throat tightened as her past fears resurfaced. Her worst fears had surfaced. Rosella had taken the back seat in her busy life. Molly had been taking her during the biggest of the renovations to keep her out of the way. When she opened the store, how much time would Rosella get?

Turning to the new stockroom, she sat down on a box of unopened books and buried her face in her hands as the tears came. She thought she had been doing so well, holding everything together. Juggling a thousand details with the store, but the thought of failing Rosella on her first real Christmas that she might remember broke something in her.

The door creaked open. "Hermione? Why are you in here crying?"

She shook her head, sobbing into her hands. "I am so behind on everything. This is Rosella's first Christmas that she'll understand, and I haven't gotten her a thing!"

Ron stepped toward her and took her hand, tugging her to her feet. "Get up."

Hermione let him pull her up to stand as she blinked back tears, as he pulled her back out to the sales floor.

"Look out there," Ron said, leading her to the window of the magical side of the store. Through the windows, she saw shoppers walking through the snow carrying bags and boxes. "See all those people? They haven't made two stores from dust and boards like you have. We still have five days until Christmas. Tomorrow, you and I will take Rosella to Mum and Dad, and we'll go shopping for her."

Hermione threw her arms around him as she started crying again. "Thank you, Ron."

The wireless that she had been listening to fizzled into static before a voice broke through.

"This is Breaking News live on the Wizarding Wireless Network, reporting from the Ministry of Magic for the trial of Greyback, the Werewolf. His reign of terror, causing death and destruction to hundreds, ends now. The Wizengamot has sentenced him to death.

This follows this morning's proceedings for the Malfoy family. A year ago, Lucius Malfoy started serving his twenty-five years in Azkaban. Today, his wife, Narcissa Malfoy, and son, Draco, stood trial for their roles in the Dark War. Narcissa Malfoy, whose wand was confiscated, was found not to have performed nefarious spells but was sentenced for harbouring a fugitive, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself.

Draco Malfoy, whose wand went missing during the war, was sentenced for his role in the events leading to the death of Albus Dumbledore. However, the Wizengamot received a letter from Harry Potter, the conqueror of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself, stating that Narcissa and Draco ultimately aided the forces of good. With his testimony, they were sentenced to three years' probation without wands. The Ministry will be in possession of their wands until the time when their probation is over, and they were also fined."

Ron clicked the radio off and barked out a laugh as he picked Hermione up, swinging her in a circle. "They're going to have to live as Muggles for three years! Can you imagine?"

Hermione laughed through her tears, hugging him tightly. "Between Greyback and the Malfoys… the last of the Death Eaters are finally being sentenced. Maybe we'll have peace at last."

Ron looked down at her. "Is it just me, or does this feel like a huge weight off your shoulders?"

Hermione smiled, resting her forehead against his chest. "Such a big one."

/\/<3/\/<3/\/

Harry pulled down his knit hat over his head as he walked over the snow-dusted cobblestones of Diagon Alley. After being in the hot, humid heat of India for six months, the cold air seemed to pierce his skin as he pulled his coat closer to him. He had made it through the Leaky Cauldron, avoiding attention. His lack of eyewear and the knit cap pulled over his scar helped conceal his identity. He had also gained more muscle than he once had, and his wellness practices had even made him give a double take in the mirror occasionally.

Seeing the large W3s sign looming in the alley made Harry smile. A newer sign peeked out beneath the arm of one of the twins, The Lily Pad. Grinning, he headed toward it with purpose, deciding to surprise Hermione before heading to Gringotts for Lord Potter business.

Coming to a stop in front of the large display window, which already held books within it, Harry froze. Through the glass, he saw her. He nearly didn't recognize her, as her hair was chopped short. But there she was, in Ron's arms. They were laughing, moving together in some rhythm. Ron's head was resting against hers, both of them smiling.

Harry's chest tightened.

Hermione never replied to his letter, and now, looking at her like this, it was clear. She'd moved on.

Stepping back from the window before they could see him, he turned away into the snowy alley. Without another glance, he pulled his cloak tighter and headed towards Gringotts to see what he needed to handle with the Potter Family Trust.

~*~ 24th December 2000 ~*~

Hermione brought Rosella into the bathroom at the Burrow. All evening, Rosella had been full of energy, bouncing from lap to lap of her Aunts and Uncles, who were all staying the night at the Burrow with them, occasionally causing a small disaster. Many cups of eggnog and pumpkin juice alike had been spilled on the rug. An unfortunate collision with one of Molly's side tables had left her lamp in pieces, which was thankfully able to be repaired. Seemingly overnight, Rosella had become Miss Independent. At just over 11kgs and 81 centimeters tall, she insisted on using the step stool as she washed her own hands and face to get ready for bed with Hermione. She even attempted to pull her new pyjamas from Molly and Arthur over her head, before Hermione had to rescue her from her armhole. Hermione made sure that they kept to their nightly routine. Teeth brushed, hair combed, and a bedtime story in bed.

Hermione could not wait for the morning. She and Ron had gone together to get Rosella a dollhouse, a new doll, a small collection of My Little Ponies, and a set of drawing materials, the kind with extra-sturdy crayons for little hands. If looking under the tree gave any indication, the Weasley family had gone overboard as well.

Pulling back the covers, Hermione tucked Rosella into her former bed and climbed in herself. Picking up the book Rosella had picked, Hermione ran her fingers through her daughter's auburn curls as she read the tale of Winnie the Pooh and the Hundred Acre Wood. It wasn't long at all that Rosella drifted off into dreamland, and Hermione quickly followed, not even awake when Ron came into his bedroom.

~*~ 25th December 2000 ~*~

The Burrow was alive with Christmas cheer, warmth, and noise filled the home, along with the scent of roasting turkey. Wrapping paper was already strewn through the main floor of the house as the wireless played Christmas carols. Rosella had already opened her gifts from Hermione and Ron, and the traditional Weasley jumpers had been passed out as well. The rest of the family had gone overboard. Books, stuffed animals, and more toys than Hermione knew what to do with were scattered on the floor for both her and Victoire.

The entire family was gathered around the enormous tree that occupied nearly the whole sitting room. Its lights were twinkling as Bill crouched down, handing out gifts one by one as he found them.

"And this one…" Bill said, looking at the tag, "It's for Hermione… and this is for Rosella."

Hermione had Rosella on her lap, helping her tear at the colourful, unique wrapping paper that covered a box. Opening the lid, Hermione unfolded the tissue paper to see a set of obviously hand-painted puppets in a box labeled "Rajasthani Puppets." Gently taking out the box, beneath it was a folded sari in vivid pink and orange in Rosella's size.

Fleur offered to help Rosella put it on, while Hermione opened her own gift. Smiling, her little girl giggled as the fabric slid past her head.

Hermione opened her own box. Inside was a sari of deep sapphire blue, the silk seeming to flow like water over her hands. Beneath it lay an arrangement of teas, fragrant inside the box. Tucked within the folds of the silks was a small card. Two simple words were on it: Happy Christmas.

Hermione looked at Molly, "When did this come?"

Molly frowned. "They were just there a few days ago. I thought someone dropped it off to keep it hidden until today."

Bill reached under the tree again and pulled out another box. "This one is for all of us," he said, opening it. Inside was a collection of jars, tins, and small packages. Snacks, teas, and sweets. Bill unfolded a note on top and read it aloud. "Weasley family, Happy Christmas. I had to come home briefly to deal with Gringotts' business and stopped in. No one was home, but I still had access to the floo. I hope you don't mind, I couldn't leave without giving this gift. I was just in India and brought home some items I thought everyone would enjoy. Harry."

Hermione's heart gave an unsteady skip. "He was here?!?"

Bill nodded, "Looks like it."

Hermione's breath caught. "And he left without saying anything?"

Ron was sitting next to her and slid his arm around her shoulders. "He said he stopped by, probably didn't know where to find us."

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. "He could have sent an owl or a patronus."

~*~ 10th February 2001 ~*~

The morning sunlight spilled over the balcony of the second floor through the large windows in the adult section of the Muggle side of the store, lighting the shiny new espresso machine. Hermione stood near the counter, hands behind her back, as the Muggle health inspector walked through the café's kitchen. She watched him open the refrigerator, check the temperature gauge, then walk over to the oven and open it, checking the temperature. He even opened the storage cabinets and drawers.

Finally, he looked up from his clipboard. "Everything is in order, Miss Granger. You've passed inspection. Your license will be sent to you in the mail."

Hermione let out a breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "Thank you," she said, shaking his hand.

After he left, Hermione leaned back on the door separating the kitchen from the rest of the café and closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing mind.

"Hermione?"

Stepping out of the shadow of the hallway, Hermione stepped back onto the sales floor to see Bill at the portal between stores. Snow was on the top of his dragonhide boots where they met his trousers. "Hey lil sis," he grinned, pulling his wand out of his coat, "Here to ward your shop."

Hermione followed him to the magical side of the store and aided Bill over the next half-hour, watching as lines of runes gathered along the magical side's walls, weaving into a protective mesh of security. Bill tapped his wand to hers, muttering an incantation.

"All right," Bill said, "Now if anyone tampers with the wards, you and Ron will know instantly. I'll do the Muggle side tomorrow night after everyone leaves."

"Thank you, Bill," Hermione said. "This gives me a sense of relief."

Heading back toward the Muggle side, Vivian, the baker for the café, was bustling around the café, flipping through recipe cards. Looking up, she saw Hermione, "Good, I was wondering where you were. Here is my proposed menu." Hermione walked over to the counter and saw the proposed menu: fresh scones, fruit tarts, hand pies, cinnamon buns, and a rotating list of cakes. "I hope you don't mind, but I rearranged a few things in the kitchen after he left. Just a few changes to improve the baking flow, as I prefer it. If that is all right with you." Vivian stated.

Hermione smiled, feeling a sense of relief. "Vivian, while I will give final approval on things, the café is all yours to make it shine."

By early afternoon, the delivery men finally arrived with the café tables. Regina and Megan, two of the new girls, were eager to help and were already in the café area, setting up and rearranging the tables. She smiled, hearing them debating their placement. Stepping back, Hermione let them experiment. She trusted their instincts already.

Hermione got lucky with interviews. Every member of her staff was either Muggleborn, Squib, or half-blood, which meant that they could move between the magical and Muggle sides with no issues. The flexibility would help everything run smoothly, especially in the early weeks.

The door to the lounge opened with a chime, making Hermione glance over as Luna stepped through, grinning, "It's official! The wall is open, and the pet room is connected to the lounge."

Hermione followed her through the door into the bright, cozy space, with two spots reserved for couches. The cat towers, two litter boxes, and a basket of dog toys were already set up. Patrons would pay one galleon or five pounds for half an hour of cuddling one of the rescue cats or dogs. Hermione could already picture families stopping in after browsing books. The children giggling over a kitten chasing a bit of string.

She felt her heart constrict in her chest, feeling just a bit overwhelmed. She had aimed to be open the first weekend of March, but the couches were still on backorder. Every day, there seemed to be another item on her small but ever-growing list of tasks.

The magical side gleamed. It was ready without a doubt. The Muggle side smelled of the cinnamon from Vivian's latest pastry trials. The staff were settling into their roles. Misty, the calm and capable half-blood from Beauxbatons, was running the magical side, training the others like she had been made to do it. Lucy, the friendly Muggleborn managing the café and Muggle store, had already made colour-coded cleaning schedules for everyone and a rotating shift schedule.

Hermione stepped into the middle of the shop, taking everything in. The shelves were slowly filling up, the new tables were ready for customers, and the smell of baked goods filled the air.

For the first time, she could see it was happening. Ready, whether they were prepared or not.

~*~ 3rd March 2001 ~*~

The café smelled of cinnamon, freshly baked pastries, tea, and coffee, as friends and family filled the Muggle side of the store. Vivian had outdone herself. She had laid out long platters of pastries, buttery croissants, fruit tarts, quiches, and various cake slices. The espresso machine was hissing and steaming, sending invisible clouds of fragrances around the space. At the same time, the tea station held colourful tins from around the world, including India, China, and here in England.

Ron sat down at the centre table, with a grin, eating a rich chocolate cake, clearly enjoying his role as birthday guest of honour. Standing up, he reached for a cinnamon bun, but Molly swatted his hand away.

"This is a tasting, Ronald. Not a buffet," Molly said, and Hermione turned around, trying not to laugh.

She looked around to see the Weasley family interacting with the families of the new staff, former classmates, and friends, all in conversation. Picking up a glass of champagne, she tapped her wand against it. "Can I have everyone's attention?"

Everyone quieted and turned their attention to her. "First of all. Thank you for coming today. Happy Birthday to Ron, of course." Fred and George cheered and hollered, making Arthur glare at them.

"At the end of this month," Hermione continued, "We'll be having our soft opening. The couches are finally being shipped, so both sides of the store will be ready. We'll be open Monday through Friday from 10:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. We are open on Saturdays until eight, and we will be closed on Sundays. Saturday mornings, we will invite everyone to our children's hour. Storytime, crafts… we hope to be a space for young readers to fall in love with books."

She paused to look around the room. The eyes of her friends and found family were on her. Deep down, she wished three other sets of eyes were among them. "I hope it will be a success. We are going to have some growing pains, it's inevitable, but I also hope that everyone will be understanding and willing to show us some grace as we find our rhythm."

She turned to Luna, "By the beginning of next month, Luna will have Loving Pets open. Together, we hope to bring homes to rescued cats and dogs. Also, don't forget, Blooming Blossoms, Neville's stop is now open across the way." She paused as everyone clapped, and Neville blushed. "We'll be having his bouquets here in the store for sale, and I think it will help make the space even warmer."

Fred walked over and slipped an arm around her shoulders with a wide grin. "How about we raise our glasses to Hermione. For not only the monumental effort to keep this bookstore's legacy alive, but to modernize it, and bridge the gap between the Muggle and Magical worlds!"

"Hear, hear!" voices rang out as mugs and glasses lifted high in the air.

Hermione felt her cheeks grow warm as everyone congratulated her and the staff, then broke off to converse again. For the first time, she truly believed that her dream was going to come true.

~*~ 24th March 2001 ~*~

Hermione stood back at the portal between the two sides of her store, taking everything in. Today was the official opening of the magical side of the store, and it was so full inside that there was a line going through Diagon Alley as witches and wizards alike waited to get inside, while George acted as a bouncer.

There were excited conversations from children and adults alike, along with the occasional puff of air, as photographers from the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler took pictures. Outside, a banner waved over the windows: MEET YOUR FAVOURITE MAGICAL AUTHORS- TODAY ONLY!

A long table was set up near where Hermione stood at the portal between the two sides of the store. Hermione was lucky enough to get some of the most influential wizarding authors to sign their works for the public, including Newt Scamander himself, who had not made a public appearance in over a decade.

Beside the checkout counter was another table that was nearly as busy as Newt's with a last-minute surprise guest. Ginny, wearing her Holyhead Harpies robes, was signing the limited Quidditch magazines and books that she had, as well as team photos.

Behind the table where Newt and the other authors sat was the door to the Muggle side of the store, which was not yet open. The door read: Beyond these doors lies the Muggle side of the shop. Any breach of magical secrecy or disturbances will result in immediate notification of the Auror force. Little did people know that the door was also warded, and it would not open for those with ill intentions. Two teenagers had already tried to sneak around the tables, but the door was locked, much to their dismay.

Hermione moved to the centre of the room, greeting people and taking everything in. Three lines had formed in the store. The author table, Ginny, and the cashier. It fluctuated over the last hour as to which line was the longest. Looking at her watch, Hermione was surprised how fast it had flown by with only an hour remaining in their Grand Opening Event.

The scent of parchment, books, and courtesy tea filled the room, which seemed to hum with happiness.

"She's great, isn't she?"

Hermione looked over at him as Neville walked up beside her and glanced in the direction he was looking, seeing him watching Ginny, his expression a mix of awe and pride.

"I'm happy for you both," Hermione said as she put her arm around his waist.

Neville grinned. "Thanks, who thought the bumbling idiot I used to be would snag the hottest girl from the house Quidditch team?"

Hermione smiled through her happiness for him. "You weren't a bumbling idiot, Neville. Your wand was your dad's. It gave you a disadvantage. It didn't help that you were a late bloomer. I mean, look at you. You're hot."

Neville flushed pink, "You're just saying that."

"I'm not," Hermione told him honestly.

He gave her a nudge. "Now we just need to find you someone. You don't think that you and Ron will work things out?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Plus, I'm too busy right now for a relationship."

Neville leaned causally against the checkout counter, "I've heard about some of those girls' nights at the club. Who said anything about a relationship?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "It's just the occasional night of fun, nothing serious. I don't know what she is telling you."

He smirked. "Hannah said you and one guy were hot and heavy."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Don't say that too loud, my Lord. It was for like an hour. You think I'd bring him back to my house with Rosella there? Hell no."

Neville winked. "Ginny and I could always babysit."

Hermione laughed as she shook her head, watching Neville as he walked back over to Ginny.

The night had come outside the store windows as the last staff member had left, disappearing down the alley. Locking the door, she leaned back against it, exhaling as the exhaustion finally caught up to her.

Pushing herself off it, her feet carried her over to the counter, where she opened the till drawer. One by one, she counted the coins, adding them to the total that Misty had already sent to Gringotts earlier in the afternoon.

Halfway through, she froze after counting just galleons. What she had counted couldn't be right. She quickly recounted, carefully separating them into piles. When the final number hit her, she sat back on the stool, eyes wide.

"Holy shit," she whispered into the empty shop. It was over twenty-five thousand galleons. In one day. Just in sales.

She knew the excitement would taper off once the grand opening faded, but the sheer response left her stunned. Leaving change for Monday's opening, Hermione straightened and called, "Gringotts elf!"

A small, neatly dressed elf popped in front of her. She handed over the envelope and deposit slip. "Thank you."

He bowed. "Good day," then vanished.

The quiet took over the store again. Hermione turned, taking in the store. The cleanup had gone quickly. The tables were back to their spots, and displays refreshed, shelves put back in order. Her team had worked together perfectly. It was, by all accounts, a successful day.

Yet, a small amount of melancholy tugged at her. She wished her parents were there to see it, to walk through the shop. She wanted Harry to be here, too.

Now that she had a computer, she'd spent evenings running search after search for her parents in Australia. Every time, she hit a dead end.

Spinning gently on her stool, she caught sight of a book on the far display. The book she'd only agreed to stock under protest: Rita's latest fabrication, The Life and Times of the Boy Who Lived. The cover alone made her bite her lips in anger. Harry emerging as Triwizard Champion, Cedric's body edited out of the frame. Filled with supposed interviews with Harry's classmates growing up, dramatic tales from Privet Drive, and exaggerated accounts of their Hogwarts years. Every classmate she spoke to told her Rita never even approached them.

Hermione had made her feelings known the moment the single copy had arrived courtesy of her publisher. A large poster now hung above it, with a big red arrow pointing toward the single book and the words: Warning: Non-factual misrepresentation of Harry Potter's life. Read at your own risk.

She was proud of the wizarding population that no one had moved it.

Sighing, she looked away from Rita's nonsense and laid her head down on the counter. A piece of parchment crinkled under her forehead. When she lifted her head, it clung to it. Peeling it away, she found a pen lying on the counter and grabbed it to write.

Dear Harry,

It's official. The Lily Pad is open. Well, the magical side at least. The Muggle side will be in a week or two. There are still a few kinks to work out. Can you believe that in the first day alone, we made 25,000 galleons in sales? A big part of that was thanks to Ginny, Newt Scamander, and the other authors who came in. All for just a cut of their own book sales.

As exhausted as I feel, I'm excited to see how the Muggle side goes. I have two authors lined up for the opening: Malorie Blackman, from here in Britain, and an American named Julia Quinn, who is starting a new historical romance series. Luna has been plastering advertisements everywhere, even in the Muggle London newspapers.

Today was perfect… and yet, I couldn't help but wish Mum and Dad were here, or you, to help celebrate. I miss you, Harry.

Love,

Hermione.

Hermione folded the letter and carried it into her office, where her barn owl was waiting on its perch.

"To Harry Potter, please Mercury," she murmured, tying the parchment to its leg.

The owl gave her a soft hoot and took off into the night.

~*~ 9th April 2001 ~*~

Both stores were officially open, and from the moment the Lily Pad had been opened, customers filed in both sides. Browsing shelves, sipping drinks in the café, and even visiting the lounge. The cats seemed to be the favourite animal, and Luna said three of them had already been adopted. Children were darting between displays, adults chatting with each other, and Hermione ordered a second register just in case it kept up.

Hermione, however, hadn't stopped moving since dawn, and her feet were killing her. She weaved her way through the customers, helping a wizard locate a rare text on herbology. Hopping over to the Muggle side, she helped a Muggle couple find the romance section, which made her heart twinge thinking of Harry's book he had gotten her. Which still lay in her nightstand next to her bed.

Going back through to the portal, her stomach growled, but she ignored it as she looked around and realized she needed to hire at least one more person, if not two. She glanced over at the café and saw the line that Vivian had. If it hadn't been there, she'd be heading over there to get another cup of coffee. For the last three days, she had been running on coffee and tea, staying up late after putting Rosella to bed to double-check inventory and draft display ideas.

Spotting someone who looked like they needed help, she was halfway across the floor when a hand caught her arm, making her jump, as she saw Ron. "Ron, I can't talk. I'm helping customers."

Ron looked over her shoulder and spotted Megan restocking a nearby shelf. "Hey Megan! Can you come over and help this customer? Hermione needs a break."

Megan stood up. "About time. I told her that her heart would explode if she drank any more coffee. Regina even went to get decaf for her."

Hermione gasped. "I'm drinking decaf?"

Megan laughed and turned back to the customer. "How can I help you?"

Before Hermione could protest, Ron tugged her toward the magical portal connecting the two sides. He pushed open the disguised door, which only employees could see, and gestured toward the stairs. "After you."

Hermione sighed, and she stepped through, her legs feeling heavier with each step up the stairs to her office. When she finally sank into her chair, she rubbed her temples. "Ron, I'm so busy. What is it?"

Leaning on her desk, Ron frowned. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I ate today. When I fed Rosie this morning, I ate," Hermione defended.

"So what? Eight hours ago?" Ron asked, "Don't make me pull a Harry and force you to eat."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry never forced me to eat."

"He so did, especially our OWL year," Ron stated. "Now, sit. I'm going to get you something to eat."

Hermione waved a tired hand. "Fine, fifteen minutes. I'll give you fifteen minutes, then you'd better be back."

It was twenty minutes before Ron returned, carrying a paper bag from the Leaky Cauldron. He stepped into her office to find her slumped over her desk, fast asleep.

He placed a charm on the food before sitting across from her. He unwrapped his sandwich, stretching out his legs, and he propped his feet on the desk.

Without opening her eyes, Hermione mumbled, "Feet off my desk."

/\/ <3 /\/ 5th May 2001 /\/ <3 /\/

The sun was slowly making its way toward the horizon as Harry moved through his training sequence of tai chi. His instructor had already left after finishing his own set, but Harry was still mentally unbalanced after the loss of one of his patients, so he repeated his set.

His time in China had been wonderful. The healers worked with herbalists and Muggle doctors. Here, Harry wasn't the boy who lived. He was the Emerald Healer, Lu Bao Yisheng. People travelled for hours, on brooms, cars, or trains to bring sick relatives or injured children. They came because they believed he could help them. Somehow, with the knowledge he had gained, he could. To thank him, they had used an old spell to fix his eyes. He no longer needed glasses or contacts to see.

An owl broke his focus as it glided across the skyline, landing gently on the railing of his apartment building. He reached for the letter it carried, easily recognizing Hermione's handwriting. Nodding at the owl as it took off, Harry lowered himself to the stone of the roof and folded his legs to read.

Dear Harry,

Today was perfect.

Love,

Hermione.

Harry stared at the parchment with a smile. The noise of the city around him seemed to grow with intensity as he stood up and opened the door to head downstairs to his apartment. Opening the door, he smelled jasmine tea he had made this morning and the herbs he had drying in the window. Sitting down at his desk, he pulled out a piece of paper.

Hermione,

Congratulations on the bookstore opening! The Lily Pad is such a perfect name. Charming and clever, just like the person behind it. I could almost picture the sign when I read your last letter. I hope Rose is enjoying spending time with you there. I imagine it's already become a special kind of sanctuary for many.

I will be leaving the Asian region tomorrow, specifically China and Japan. It's been humbling. People come to me sick, dying, and bleeding, and they come because they believe I can help them. For the first time, I feel like I'm not just a danger to those around me. I'm offering healing. I'm saving people for real, and it feels good. Purposeful.

I've studied acupuncture, massage therapy, tai chi, hiragana, Unani, medicine, and Sowa Rigpa, and I have learned how kratom can ease both pain and grief. There's still so much more, but I'm finally feeling like I'm making amends, if that makes sense.

I'm glad you are finding your purpose, too. It sounds like you're creating something beautiful. Space for people to rest, grow, and heal a little.

Something has been bothering me, and I have to ask. Why don't I hear from Ron anymore? Did something happen? I have been trying to give him time and space, but I miss him.

Write soon,

Harry

~*~16th May 2001 ~*~

The shop bell jingled, and Hermione looked up as one of her usual customers came through the portal from the magical side of the store here to the Muggle side. She smiled at him and, out of the corner of her eye, saw Rosella, her little legs swinging from her place on the high stool behind the counter, waving to the wizard before going back to her wizarding picture book. At two and a half years old, Hermione was impressed by how well Rosella was beginning to read. She and Rosella read in bed every night, and between that and her exposure to reading in the last month, Hermione figured she would be reading way ahead of time.

The store had been officially open for over a month now, but Rosella had become a frequent presence there. Mondays through Wednesdays, they settled into their quiet rhythm. Rosella came to the store with her. A small basket of toys was located upstairs in her office, as well as crayons under the checkout counters, but they had been rarely used over the last couple of weeks. Instead, the customers, both magical and Muggle, had grown used to seeing her. Some even bring her small gifts or buy her books to enjoy.

Today, a frequent older wizard named Mr. Darien, who said he once worked in the Department of Mysteries, was seated in the café and had called Rosella over. She jumped off her stool and walked over to him to sit next to him. Mr. Darien took his saucer from his tea and poured sugar onto it between them. Rosella got up on her little knees and watched him carefully draw curved lines in the sugar.

"That's Fehu," he explained, "It means wealth and good fortune. A blessing for a lot of money."

Rosella's brows wrinkled together as she copied it. "Fee-who"

He smiled, "That's it, Princess."

The name had started as a joke between customers. One of the regulars was calling her the "Bookstore Princess" after Luna had given her a sparkly blue cape and a tiara that she had made, referring to her as the future Princess of Ravenclaw. It had stuck. Within two weeks, everyone called her Princess, and Rosella had even been taught by Ginny the 'Princess wave' and greeted customers, acting as the unofficial guide and showing them to the pet shop or pointing out where to find different areas of the store.

Rosella knew that she was free to wander next door to Luna's pet store to help with the animals. She always told Hermione where she was going first, a rule she had instilled after too many sudden disappearances in her first week coming to the store.

In the late afternoon, Rosella had curled up in the children's reading nook with a young Muggle couple and their son. She listened as they read aloud to her from a pop-up fairy tale book. Hermione smiled as she returned to helping a mother find a specific book.

Thursdays through Saturdays tended to be busier, so on those days, Rosella spent her time either at W3s with Ron or at the Burrow with Molly. Molly spoiled her, and Ron found excuses to take her to the park or introduce her to harmless Weasley inventions.

But today, Rosella was with her, and Hermione felt like the Lily Pad was more than just a bookstore. It was a safe, second home not just for them, but for anyone who came through the doors.

~*~20th July 2001 ~*~

As Hermione stepped out of the fireplace at the Burrow, late in the afternoon, after working at the store. All day, she'd been running through the to-do list for Rosella's birthday party in her head: cake, balloons, food, and presents. Looking around, she was surprised not to see Molly.

The back door was wide open, so Hermione made her way to the back garden where she heard giggling.

Pausing in the doorway, she saw Rosella under one of the apple trees, cradling her puffskein, Leah, singing to it. On the bench near the orchard, Ron and Luna sat side by side. She looked toward them just in time to see Ron lean over and press a kiss to Luna's cheek. The way Luna looked up at him made Hermione's breath catch. Luna's usual dreamy gaze was still there, but it was more.

"Oh my," Hermione said before she could stop herself.

Ron turned to her, turning red. "Oh, Hermione. What are you doing here?"

"Misty and Lucy had the stores handled today, so I thought I'd pick Rosella up early," she told him.

Luna rested her head on Ron's shoulder. "You are correct in your thinking. Ronald and I are together."

Hermione raised her hands. "No judgment here. I hope you two are making each other happy."

Luna smiled. "Ron makes me so happy."

"Well," Hermione said, looking at Rosella, "I'll get Rose out of your hair, so you two can enjoy your evening. Rose, honey! It's time to go home!"

Rosella looked up from her puffskein, "Can we take Lucy home, Mummy?"

"Honey, you know Crookshanks wouldn't be kind to her," Hermione reminded. "Maybe when she is a little older, we can see if they'll get along, but remember when Crookshanks tried to eat her?"

Rosella's green eyes went wide. "Oh no, Mummy. Crookshanks can't eat her."

"Exactly," Hermione said, taking her hand, "Go tell Aunt Luna and Uncle Ron goodbye."

Rosella skipped over to them and threw herself into Ron's arms. "Bye-bye! Thank you for the cake."

Hermione looked at them. "Cake?"

Ron grinned. "I have no clue what she's talking about."

~*~12th August 2001 ~*~

The Burrow's back garden was filled with long picnic tables that had been pushed together to accommodate the growing Weasley family. The smell of Molly's cooking drifted from their plates through the warm air, mingling with the smells from the garden.

Weasleys were scattered across the benches. Luna sat at Ron's side, Angelina sat between the twins, with Hermione sitting on the other side of George, with Rosella beside her. Arthur laughed as he refilled everyone's glasses of Butterbeer, even Charlie had come home along with Fleur and Bill, as Victoire ran around trying to catch butterflies.

Conversations were mixed and overlapped at the table. Arthur asked Ron and the twins about the new stock at W3 Weasley Brothers. Molly gushed to Fleur about the Lily Pad's café, as Neville, sitting beside Ginny, mentioned his flower shop.

"So, I've been experimenting," Neville admitted, "Cross-breeding some antique roses. Two very old varieties worked the best, the Champney's Pink and Fortune's Double Yellow."

Ginny leaned into his side, "You didn't tell me it was successful."

Neville smiled, then reached into his pocket, pulling out a small box. Enlarging it, he set it down and flicked open the clasp.

Hermione glanced over to see a small cluster of roses. Their petals are pale pink along the edges, fading to a delicate yellow at the center. Across the petals ran freckles that appeared to be dark pink.

"Neville, it's stunning," Ginny told him.

Gently lifting one bloom from the box, Neville stood up. "I've been working on it for months. Watching it grow and making sure I had the most beautiful one to show you."

The garden quieted around them as Neville dropped to one knee, the rose cradled in his hand. Hermione grabbed George's arm in shock.

"Ginevra Weasley, I had never known happiness before you. You've brought light into my life, more than I thought possible. I can't imagine a world without you in it. And I don't want to," Neville said as the blossom in his hand bloomed, revealing a ring, "Will you marry me?"

Molly gasped, while Ginny froze. Then a sob burst from her lips as she threw herself forward, arms around Neville's neck. "Yes!" She yelled, "Of course I will!"

Hermione smiled, wiping her eyes as everyone congratulated them, and Neville held Ginny tight.

/\/ <3 < /\/ 26th August 2001 /\/ <3 < /\/

The air tasted like the salt in the ocean only a few kilometers away as Harry walked from the hostel toward Bondi Beach, with Scott, one of the residents in the programme he was training in. Their sandals slapped the pavement when he spotted a sign across the way.

Wilkins Dentistry

He froze, his heart hammering. Scott nearly bumped into him. "What gives, mate?"

Harry's eyes locked on the door. "Remember how I told you about my best friend's parents? She made them forget who they were and gave them new names?" Harry pointed to the dental office. "They were dentists, and the name she picked was Wilkins."

Scott stared at the building, "Crikey, you think this could be it?"

"They weren't in the phonebook," Harry muttered as he looked both ways before crossing the road.

Inside, the practice smelled clean and faintly like something familiar. A small waiting room was just inside the door, with magazines and scattered chairs. A receptionist looked up with a smile, "Good day, sir. How can I help you today?"

Harry swallowed, walking up to the desk. "I have a weird question. Is this the office of Monica or Wendell Wilkins by any chance?"

The woman's smile grew. "Of course, they both practice here. Are you in need of dental assistance?"

Harry's chest tightened. After all the searching over the last two months, he'd found them. "They used to live in England, where I knew them. I heard they moved here to Australia, but never thought I'd run into them."

The receptionist nodded, "Mr. Wilkins is with a patient now, but Mrs. Wilkins is available if you'd like me to fetch her."

Harry shook his head. "No, please, don't disturb them. I can come back. When is their last appointment of the day?"

"After four," she said, "Can I get your name so I can tell them?"

"Harry," he said, nodding, "Thank you. I'll be back."

/\/ <3 /\/

When he returned, Harry clutched his old photo album under his arm. His old round glasses, which no longer served their purpose, were in his pocket. Glancing inside, he saw two people standing at the counter as if they were waiting for him.

Taking a breath, Harry put the glasses without lenses onto his face and stepped inside. The woman's hair was long and curly, pulled back into a ponytail, but the shape of her face was no doubt Hermione's face. The man beside her was balding, but the hair that remained was the same warm brown as Hermione's.

The woman looked up, and her eyes widened in surprise. "Harry," she whispered.

At the sound of his name, he gently shut the door behind him, his throat tight. "You… you know who I am?"

Monica Wilkins, formerly Eglantine "Briar Rose" Granger, came slowly around the counter, her eyes never leaving him. "I've dreamed of you. Smaller. A boy with dark hair and green eyes. There is always a girl with you, following you. Hermione." Her voice cracked as she said her name as she stood in front of him, looking up at him. "If you're real… is she?"

Harry opened up his photo album and turned it towards her. Pictures of them in Gryffindor Tower, of him with Hermione and Ron as they laughed.

"She is," He told her.

Monica gasped, pressing her hand to her mouth as she touched the photograph. "Wendell… look, this is her. This is the girl I dream about."

Wendell, formerly Camillo Granger, walked over frowning. "But how? We don't know this young man. I've never seen him from Adam. Monica, I know these dreams plague you-"

Harry closed his photo album and handed it to Monica. "I am going to tell you something, and you probably won't believe me. But it's true. Magic is real. There was a war in England, a secret magical war. So evil that it spilled over to the non-magical world. Hermione sent you here because it was the only way to keep you safe. She changed your memories, gave you new names, so that no one could ever find you. But she never stopped loving you and being your daughter."

Monica sank heavily into the waiting room chair.

Wendell scoffed, "Magic? This is madness. We're dentists for heaven's sake."

But Harry saw the way Monica's hand trembled on the book. "My Aunt would tell me stories of witches and wizards. She said that our family was once magical." She looked up at Harry, "That she was a seer, but couldn't perform magic."

Harry laughed, "Oh, Hermione will love that. She thinks that divination is a woolly discipline."

Monica swallowed hard, "If you said that Hermione changed our memories, can you fix it?"

Harry sighed, "It is going to take some time, but I can, if you let me."

Preview of Chapter 26- Somebody's Watching Over Me

The music shifted to something more pulsing and more intoxicating. Hermione wasn't sure how long they danced. Minutes? Hours? It didn't matter because Hermione let her brain pretend that he was Harry, and the world around her was only bubbles, music, and the man in front of her as his hands guided her waist. When he leaned closer to say something to her, she would catch the scent of cologne mixed with beer. She heard only half of what he was saying, but she would laugh.

At some point, he had taken her hand and led her to the back of the club, where it was quieter. The hallway to the bathrooms was crowded, and people were pressed together shoulder to shoulder. Hermione gasped as he pushed her into the wall, dipping his head and brushing his lips against her neck, making a shiver run down her spine. "Harry," she groaned.

Before she could further it, something ran into him, making the man stagger back, confused.

"Back off, dude. She is mine for the night," He stated, looking at the person who ran into him.

Hermione blinked as she tried to focus on who had slammed into her dance partner. "Ron?" she gasped, "What the hell?!"

Ron's ears were bright red, and he was breathing heavily as he grabbed her arm roughly. "You are drunk. We are going home."

Hermione yanked her arm back, fury racing through her. "You have no say in what I do!"

Chapter 25 - Here Without You