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┄┄ .•* 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏 *•. ┄┄

𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕, 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔

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Her eyes snapped open not being able to keep them close much more with te sun soaring between the curtains of her room, illuminating it and burning off her eyelids. She let a groan escape her lips as she stretched and swung her legs around, her bare feet coming into contact with the hardwood floor.

It had been about a month and a half since the school year had come to a close. Hermione and her fake not-fake parents had gone on a wonderful trip to Italy. They had stayed most of their time there in Sicily—which Hermione loved, plus she had gotten tanned while she was there. She had tasted every food she saw, and walked around so much her legs would be sore the next day. The trip was marvelous and relaxing.

But now, back in London, reality had settled in a bit more. This was probably going to be the last trip she would have in years. Yet, instead of sulking Hermione made the most of it and only saw things by the positive side. Soon enough she would go to the Weasley's, where she would stay the remainder of the holidays and she would get to watch the Quidditch World Cup—which, mind you, she was really looking forward to (not the Death Eaters part, though).

She made her way to the bathroom and got ready. She took a quick shower, got dressed—in shorts and a tank top—and put her hair up in a ponytail. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror and was making her way out of the bathroom, heading to the door of her room, when she saw Harry sitting on her bed. She jumped so high in the air from the shock, she ended up falling on her arse, "FUCK!"

Harry started laughing loudly, clutching his ribs and she glared up at him. But that was when she noticed. Harry with his messy hair, looked a few years older and his eyes weren't the same bright emerald green eyes Hermione got so used to see. They were hazel.

Hermione's eyes were as round as a Galleon, her mouth practically on the floor and the color had drained from her face.

"Uh—Oh my—You—Uh—Argh—" Hermione spluttered in shock, looking looking at the figure before her, who had now stood up and offered his hand for her to take, so he could pull her up. Hesitantly Hermione took a hold of his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

The Harry look alike grinned at her, letting go of her hand and ran a hand through his hair. "Hi. I'm James Potter," he said with a grin.

"Huh?" Hermione gaped at him.

"Well, this is awkward. I thought you knew me," James said with a grin still plastered to his face.

"You're dead," Hermione finally managed to get out.

"You're alive," James said swiftly and Hermione couldn't help but smile slightly.

"What the fuck is happening right now?" Hermione asked as she finally got out of her shocked phase. Which led her to the high confusion and fear of being on drugs phase. "Am I dead—no. You just told me I'm alive."

"You, dear Mia, can see the dead. Surprise!" James Potter said with jazz hands accompanying his words, mirth in his eyes.

"Come again?" Hermione said staring at him blankly.

"You can see people who are dead," James told her again, this time more slowly so she could fully grasp it.

"How come I'm seeing you?" Hermione asked confused.

"Ouch," said James clutching his heart dramatically. "You can see me because we have a. . . . connection, if you must."

"A connection?" asked Hermione with a deadpan look.

"Well, yeah. You're friends with Harry and whatnot. You also have a connection with Lily and—"

"Wait a damn minute," Hermione said cutting him off, her face baffled. "It's you I've been seeing all year?"

James Potter grinned at her and nodded, making Hermione facepalm.

"I thought I was going mad! Or accidentally taking drugs!"

"In our defense, that's why I'm here."

"What?"

"Well, we decided that you should probably know what you're capable of," he explained.

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree I see," Hermione muttered. "You Potters are the vaguest people I know."

"What I meant to say, is that we've decided to approach you instead of watching from the sidelines," James told her. "So they sent me here."

"Why you? Why not your wife? I'd think she would be a better person to help me deal with the shock of seeing my best friend's dead father in my room," said Hermione.

James Potter gasped in offense, "First of all, that hit the heart. Secondly, I'm great at helping with shocks. All you need is a little water and boom! Problem solved," he told her and Hermione snorted. "Besides, I'm here because they thought we'd get along better!"

"Who's they?"

"Uh—You'll know soon enough. Right now I'm the one visiting you."

"Okay. . . .So what now?" Hermione asked.

"Beats me." James shrugged. "I do need to tell you, though, that speech you gave Moony or that time you snapped at Snape. Marvelous!" He said dramatically, bringing his hand to his lips and kissing it like chef.

"Well, thanks, I guess. . . ." Hermione frowned, "Why can I see the dead, again?"

"Well, you died," James said bluntly and Hermione gave him a blank stare.

"Right. . . . But you just told me I'm alive," Hermione stated.

"You are."

"Then why did you say I died?"

"Because you did."

"For fuck's sake. Elaborate!" Hermione snapped at the grinning smug-looking James Potter in front of her.

"When you died as Julie Stone and came back here, you still died. Let's just say you're in limbo. You died, but you're alive," he told her. "That's why you can see Thestrals."

"Huh. That actually makes some sense," Hermione muttered. "Can I control who I see? I mean, I don't like having people watch my life like I'm some movie or some shit."

"Well, now that you know you can control when you want to see the dead. But you can't control who you see. That's up to us," said James to Hermione.

"Huh. Interesting," She mumbled. "Can I take pictures with you?"

"Never tried it, actually. It's not every day somebody can see the dead," He shrugged. "But my guess is no. You're the only one who can see us."

"That's a shame," Hermione mumbled slightly disappointed before she remembered something. "Wait a minute, what did you mean by 'sent back here'?"

"Uh—Elvendork."

"What?"

"Quidditch."

"What the fuck are you doing?" Hermione asked now totally confused.

"I'm going to go, actually. It was superb, absolutely marvelous to see—meet you, Miss Mia," he said overdramatically and then vanished. Not with the usual cracking noise of separation, though. He actually vanished.

Hermione stood there, gaping at the spot James Potter was occupying just seconds ago.

She couldn't help but wonder how in the world she wasn't going absolutely mad, by now. She was thrown into a fictional world and now could see the dead? She blinked once or twice and then shrugged her shoulders—as if getting read of any doubts or questions or emotions—and continued on with her day.

Hermione spent the rest of her time in her house trying to make herself busy. The first thing she did was grab all the films of pictures she took that year and store them in a box, in her room, to reveal when all of it (meaning the war) was done. Once the war was over, she'd grab that box, reveal the pictures and set up loads of photo albums.

The second thing she did was rearrange her room. And again. And again. She might have changed it about ten times that summer.

The third thing she did was go to Diagon Alley and buy all the stuff for school next year. Then she went to muggle London in search of a dress for the Yule Ball—which she found. She also got a Walkman and loads of cassettes so she could listen to music at Hogwarts. The fourth thing she did was sent shit loads of food to Harry with the new owl she got. Her owl was a beautiful medium-sized raven-black owl. She called it Vader—for obvious reasons.

She also started to get weekly visits from James Potter. He told her he was the only one coming for now so she could get used to the whole thing. And Hermione couldn't help but agree with what he said when they first met.

They really did get along well. James had quickly turned into a kind of brother-father figure to her. And Hermione was finally able to let out everything she was keeping to herself. James already knew she was a body snatcher (if you must) but he didn't know about the future. So Hermione would tell him about it during his visits. This allowed her to put her mind at ease, also knowing she would have help next year. James also told her he would gladly help her in the Animagi process, and made a point to mention how amusing it was her talk with Minnie.

The thing was, Hermione couldn't keep the guilty thoughts from her mind when she hung around him. James would tell her stories about his time at Hogwarts and whatnot—though he stayed away from his last years on Earth. Hermione couldn't help to think, Harry was supposed to be the one in her place. How come she could meet his father when he would never be able to? How is that fair? But there was really nothing much she could do, so she just shrugged it off every time.

During the summer she had gotten a couple of letters from Sirius. Beats her, why. But she had. They mainly told her he was okay and that she didn't need to worry about him and that soon they would see each other again. Hermione was happy but confused about the letters.

Speaking of letters, later that summer she got a letter from Ron, inviting her to his house for the Quidditch World Cup. She got to the Burrow on a Wednesday after Mr. Weasley went to get her by apparating.

She had forgotten to pack, so, when he did arrive, Hermione hugged th older man in greeting and rushed to her room while starting to throw things inside her expanded trunk.

"Huh. Lily told me to remind you to pack," she heard a voice and stopped momentarily to look at the face of James Potter who was looking thoughtful. She then resumed her "packing".

"Why didn't you then?"

"Forgot. Guess I wasn't the only one," said James with a smirk and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Can you help me?" Hermione asked him, while accidentally throwing her pillow into the trunk.

"Nah. . . . I'm dead," said James and Hermione rolled her eyes.

When she looked back at him he had disappeared again.

After a couple more minutes, Hermione was looking at a pretty blank room, so, she was satisfied with her packing. She grabbed her wand and used it to put her hair in a low-bun, put on her leather jacket on top of her white jeans shorts, and red tank top, and was ready to go. She picked up her trunk and met Mr. Weasley outside after having bid goodbye to her parents—Vader was flying to the burrow and Crooks was staying in her house this year (he refused to go—apparently when talking to him in his stag form, James Potter was able to get that).

"I'm ready, Mr. Weasley!" Hermione grinned and Mr. Weasley smiled kindly at her.

"Very well, grab on," he told Hermione and as the latter grabbed onto his arm he apparated.

Hermione felt a hook on the nape of her neck, pulling her in some direction, her insides being squeezed, her organs compressed as if she was being pushed through a really tight latex tube, and then her feet landed on earth again and she fell to the side.

"Holy fucking shit, that shit was a fucking bloody awful ride," she mumbled as she rolled to her back waiting for the world to stop spinning around her.

She opened her eyes to find a blue sky with a few clouds looking at her. She also heard James's Potter really obnoxious cackle. She stood up to find Mr. Weasley watching her in amusement while grabbing onto her trunk and James waving at her before he vanished.

"Now, I wouldn't use that kind of language inside, Hermione," he told her and Hermione smiled sheepishly at him.

She then looked ahead to find the thing she had been hoping to see the whole summer. Hell, she had been waiting to see the Burrow her whole life. It was just like she imagined it. She couldn't help the big grin that grew on her face.

"It isn't much but—" Mr. Weasley started saying but Hermione cut him off.

"It's wicked, Mr. Weasley," she said with awe, a grin plastered on her face. The man couldn't help but smile at the girl who was looking at his humble house with such adoration.

"Let's go in, then," he said and Hermione followed as he passed the fence up to the front door, which opened as soon as they got there.

Hermione was immediately crushed in one of Mrs. Weasley's hugs and she couldn't help but smile and hug her back.

"Hermione, dear, it's so good to see you!" Mrs. Weasley smiled as she let go of the chocolate brown curly-haired witch. "You're looking beautiful, sweetheart."

"Thank you!" Hermione beamed and she started to make her way inside.

She stopped in her tracks, though, when she heard rustling. She turned to the stairs and watched in amusement as the Weasley's four younger children ran down the staircase, only for the first one to fall, loosing his step and causing a domino effect.

Hermione laughed as she saw Ron fall on the ground, Ginny following after him, flailing her arms around in vain and at last the twins, falling with a thud on top of their siblings.

"Well, that was something," Hermione said with a grin as they proceeded to untangle themselves.

It was then that she saw another two redheads coming (calmly) down the stairs. She couldn't help but fangirl in her mind at the image of Charlie and Bill Weasley.

"You must be Hermione," the man who she assumed was Bill said—with his ponytail and freaking awesome earring—as he approached her with a smile. "I'm Bill."

"I'm Charlie," said the man next to him with his burnt marks on display on his arms.

"Well, you already know who I am, so. . . ." said Hermione trailing off with a smile. "You're both so cool. You'll have to tell me everything about what you do. They're both options I'm considering in the future. I'm rambling. Sorry. It's nice to meet you."

"You as well."

"Our siblings wouldn't shut up about you, all summer—"

Charlie was cut off by a squeal. Ginny had apparently been able to untangle herself from the others first, and threw herself on Hermione's arms, in a huge hug, "Mione!"

"Hey, Gigi." Hermione smiled at the redhead.

"Hermione!" Next thing she knew three tall ginger-heads had crushed her in a group hug that left her gasping for air.

"Can't—breath—dying—here!" she managed to gasp out and they let her go with sheepish smiles.

"Come on! You're staying in my room!" Ginny exclaimed as she started pulling Hermione upstairs.

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