Chapter 4

Friday, June 7th

Hermione Granger's Flat

The alarm went off with a high-pitched shrill, startling the lone occupant of the bed. She rolled over, the flat of her palm slapping against the top of the clock as she stuffed a pillow over her head. Hermione was just on the verge of falling back asleep when a loud tapping rapped at her window. She pulled at the covers bunched around her waist, pulling them up over her head as well as she tried to ignore the persistent noise. Unfortunately, the snooze timer on the alarm went off again, shrilling loudly in her ear. With a muttered oath, she pushed the pillow and the blankets from her tired body and rolled onto her back.

She stared at the ceiling, letting her eyes adjust to the cheery brightness of early morning, knowing that it was going to be a long day. The tapping at the window got consistently louder as she lazed, unmoving, on the bed. Hermione slapped at the alarm clock as she struggled to sit up, noticing that not only was she alone in bed, but that she was also in yesterday's clothes.

Running a hand down her face, Hermione moved to the window and pushed it open. An owl rushed in, thrusting its leg at her with an indignant hoot. It tried to poke at her hand as she untied the missive, but she evaded its sharp beak.

"None of that, naughty girl," she reprimanded the bird, unraveling the scroll. Her mouth felt as though a thousand cotton balls had been stuffed into it.

Hermione,

Hermione reached over and grabbed a pencil off the nightstand.

With deft fingers, she tied her response to the owl's leg and shooed it off. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and decided to make her morning shower a short affair.

~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~

Friday, June 7th

Rose Cottage

Josie awoke, strangely disoriented, reaching over to cuddle with Neville, only to find his side of the bed empty and cold. She sat up sharply, looking around the darkened room for traces of her husband and finding none.

"Nev –" His name died on her lips as she remembered why, her heart clenching over that knowledge.

She collapsed in on herself, sagging back against the pillows. With a shuddering sob, she brought her knees to her chest, curling into the fetal position. Everything hurt.

"Oh, Neville," she whispered, "I don't think I can do this."

It was so hard to believe he was gone. How was she to survive? Everything felt so alien. It just wasn't fair. She missed his crooked smile. She missed the way he was constantly forgetting the simplest things, yet could remember an inane fact like the first flower he'd given her. She missed the way his warm body would cradle hers, the feel of his body pressing against her.

And, on top of that, she had to leave their home. She and Neville had lived here since before Alice was born. Every crook and cranny held a memory of their life together.

Feeling raw and broken, she wrapped her arms around his pillow, and pressed her face against it. It still smelled faintly of him. With a gasping moan, she hugged the pillow close to her body, tears streaming down her face. Nothing felt right, and Josie had a feeling that nothing would ever feel right again.

~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~

Friday, June 7th

The Burrow

"Nana Molly, where is my Mum?" asked a sleepy Alice as she moved into the kitchen.

"I sent her home last night, I thought it'd be nice to have some time, just the two of us."

"Really?" Alice asked, climbing into one of the chairs set around the table.

Molly chuckled, setting a glass of juice in front of the girl. "Yes, deary, really."

"Do... do you think she's all right?" Alice chewed on her lip in a gesture that reminded Molly of Hermione as a child. Molly moved around the table and pulled the girl into a hug.

"I think she is as well as she can be," Molly muttered into her hair as she placed a kiss on Alice's head.

"Would..." Alice looked up into Molly's face. "Would you be upset if we went home after breakfast so I can make sure?"

"No, Sweetie," she replied, cupping Alice's cheek. "I wouldn't be upset at all."

~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~

Friday, June 7th

Craig Mhor

"Mr. Brigstaff, just what do you mean you can't get into all of the rooms?" Hermione asked, brushing back an annoying strand of hair. "I went through and unwarded the doors yesterday myself. There should be no reason you and your crew cannot get into any of them."

"That's just it, Ms. Granger, there's no supportable reason why we shouldn't," he replied, wiping his brow with a handkerchief. "Yet something is blocking access to the cellar and the master bedroom on the east side of the house. Nothing we have done, short of breaking the doors down, has had any effect."

"Have you tried taking the damn doors off their hinges?"

"We can't just go barging in without express permission to do that sort of work. We'd be liable if, by some chance, we damaged any of the property inside."

"I thought we already covered this in the initial contract," Hermione said sharply. "This house is going to be utilized by someone with a limited amount of magic, so we have to ensure that there is nothing that could potentially harm her. That means you go in, by force if necessary, to each and every room to ensure that there is nothing left behind that can do that."

"I understand your position, Ms. Granger; however, I do have to point out that it wasn't expressly stated that we could use any force necessary," he said, handing her an adjustment form requiring a signature. "Therefore, I wanted to ensure I had proper authorization before we attempted to do anything that might potentially cause damage to the structure."

"All right, you have it. Just get on with the work. This place needs to be ready by tomorrow morning," she replied, signing the paper with a flourish.

~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~

Friday, June 7th

Rose Cottage

"Is there anything else you can think of that needs to go?" Molly asked Josie, shrinking the last box on the kitchen counter.

"I think we've pretty much gotten everything except for the linens on the bed, which I can grab tomorrow morning and pack in one of the suitcases before we leave."

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay at the Burrow tonight? You know you're always welcome, and it isn't as if we haven't the room."

"No, I think Alice and I need one last night here," Josie replied, leaning against the counter. "Closure, if you will."

"If you're sure...?"

"About as sure as I can be," Josie sighed out. "It feels so strange leaving here, and rationally I can see wanting to leave as fast as possible, a 'ripping the band-aid' solution. But, I just can't do it. I need to be here just a little longer, even if it's only for one night. Silly, huh?"

"No, not silly at all. I don't know how I would be if I lost Arthur, much less had to move out of my home only a week later." Molly turned to the fireplace. "You call me if you need anything at all tonight, okay? We'll all be here at eight in the morning, so make sure you get plenty of rest, because it'll be a trying day with my boys helping."

Josie crossed to the older woman and hugged her.

"I promise we'll sleep well tonight, and I'll see you tomorrow."

~~oOo~~oOo~~oOo~~

A/N:

I'd like to thank Mark for eradicating my blaring Americanisms, and Rachel W for catching my grammar mistakes, they both are invaluable assets to this piece you are reading.

For those interested this takes place in the spring/summer of 2013. That means, by my calculation, Hermione Granger is 34-35 in this piece, and Neville would have been 33, almost 34 at the time of his death.