The dark street, lined with houses and neatly kept grass, was illuminated by lampposts that stuck in the sidewalk. The fragment of light cast dark shadows on the streets, and nearly hid Hermione as she raced down the road. The midnight air was damp and frosty, but she wasn't cold- the summer months had only just begun, of course.

Her eyes scanned the addresses on the house. 3285... 3267.... 3228.....3210! She turned abruptly, and faced a large house- Andromeda's house.

Andromeda's house was tall and dark, with a wooden porch and, by the looks of the windows at the top, had an upper floor. The driveway was made from gravel, and the hard rocks crunched under Hermione's tennis shoes as she made her way up to the house, where a man sat on the porch under the light, nervously twiddling his thumbs.

This must be Tyrannous, she thought to herself.

Tyrannous did look something like his voice had sounded. He looked... well, he looked like a coward. Everything about him made her feel as if he would get up and run away into the darkness the second something frightening happened.

He had thin, wispy hair that was a mousy brown and was thinning even more, especially down the middle. He had tiny, black, beady eyes that pierced the darkness, a short pointed nose, and a plump body- he was like a tomato. Hermione figured she had no reason to judge, for she wasn't all too good long either.

(before you all attack me about that whole Hermione thing, check the bold words below, I have a explanation for saying this.)

But there was something about him that made her shiver all over, sending tingles up and down her spine. He almost reminded her of a...

And then his eyes met with hers, and something clicked. Of a rat. He reminded her of a rat.

Peter Pettigrew stood in her memories, doing all of the terrible and cowardly acts that he had done. She scowls with disgust- Peter had been a coward. Nothing more, nothing less.

She walks up to Tyrannous stiffly now, her hand on the tip of her wand, which was still resting in her pocket. If needed, she could have a hex out and going in a split second. But as soon as she reached the stairs, she no longer felt any need to be worried.

"Miss Granger! What an honor it is to see you!" Tyrannous says, and he gets to his feet, shaking her hand quickly. "You really have no idea how special I feel... but that's not what we are here about, is it?"

Hermione shakes her head. "Afraid not, but I do appreciate your kind words. They were very nice of you." She smiles. "Do you have her cell phone for me?"

Tyrannous pulls out an old fashioned flip phone from his pocket and hands it over to her. Hermione traces her thumb over the cool metal of it. What if Andromeda really was gone? And this was the last thing she'd touched since then?

A tear blooms to form in her eye as she stuffs the cell phone roughly into her pocket. She sniffs, wipes her eye, and holds out her hand. "Thank you for taking care of her, and thank you for agreeing to meet me. It was all very kind of you- I know it's very late."

He smiles, shaking her hand, and for a moment, the cowardly glow that had seemed to emit from him disappears. "Of course, of course... do let me know if she's alright, would you? I have been visiting her lately, and we've become friends- she's quite a joy to be around, don't you think? And her grandson, Teddy..."

Hermione's stomach drops at the mention of Teddy's name. How do you explain to someone who could only speak a few words that his grandmother was gone? Unless she wasn't gone- which was a hope that she would have to cling to dearly.

She turns on the spot and apparates.

~~~~~

Harry was walking down a dark and dimly lit hall that was blank and boring. The only thing that kept him on the edge was this feeling of fear and danger creeping inside him, one that made him jump at even the slightest rustle, and gasp at every peculiar shadow.

Strange instruments lined the walls. None of them were on tables, and all were mounted on the walls. Swords, wands, frames of faces he had long since seen and tiny little instruments that Harry couldn't identify. If only Hermione were here-

And then, as soon as he thought of her, Hermione popped into view before him. Or so it seemed- rather, she came out from the shadows that he hadn't noticed before.

She looked more beautiful than ever.

Her hair was tame and silky, were smile bright and shining. But as he stared at Hermione, a feeling of misery dropped into his stomach- this wasn't the Hermione he wanted to see. Not this fake girl that had the perfect looks- he wanted real Hermione, all bushy hair and hesitant smiles. Books and warm hugs.

"Hermione?" He asks uncertainly, taking a step forward.

She smiles at him and stretches out a perfectly manicured hand. Hermione never wore nail polish. "Hello Harry."

"Where are we?" He asks, looking around the hallway they were in. The area around Hermione seemed to shine brighter.

"Welcome, to the Hall of Desire."

~~~~~

Hermione arrived at St. Mungo's around two in the morning. She was beyond tired, and felt like she was going to pass out right there in the lobby. But she pushed herself further. She needed to see Andromeda. Needed to make sure she was okay.

And so she replayed that thought through her head as she talked to the lady at the counter. She thought of Andromeda's safety as she walked through the halls, and as she made her way to the floor she needed.

Thought of Andromeda being okay, smiling and telling her all was well. Because Andromeda was alright and she wasn't going to die after all- Hermione didn't have to be sad, and she didn't have to to be the one to break the bad news to everyone else. She thought of nothing but knowing that Andromeda was alive as she opened the door required.

Andromeda was lying on the bed, still, pale, white.

Hermione closes the door softly. Her thoughts had been fuzzy before, but they were crystal clear as she made her way tentatively to the bed. She pulls up a chair. Sits. Sets her purse on the bedside table. And then her focus was on Andromeda.

She takes one of the woman's slightly wrinkled hands. How old was Andromeda? Hermione had never bothered to figure out- and now she wished she had.

Andromeda's hand was limp and stone cold.

Somehow, without even being told, Hermione knew that Andromeda was dead. There was just something about her that seemed so... lifeless. A tear comes to her eye, and she wipes her eyes roughly, smudging the mascara she had put on, but at this point, her mascara was the last thing she was worried about.

The door opens and a young looking Healer comes in, a clipboard and quill in his hand. His eyes widen when he sees Hermione sitting by the bed.

"Are you family? Because I was just getting ready to call the family-"

Hermione nods stiffly, climbing to her feet. "Yes. Technically... yes, I am her family." Though technically Hermione wasn't Andromeda's family, it didn't matter to her- Hermione felt that Andromeda was part of their family. "She's- she's dead, isn't she?"

The Healer nods sadly. "I'm sorry. We tried to save her, but she was already gone. It looks like the curse she had killed her early." He glances down at a list of addresses and phone numbers. "Should I call the rest of her family for you?"

Hermione shakes her head. "No. No- I've... I've got it. Thank you."

The Healer places a hand on her shoulder lightly. "It'll be alright. You're Hermione Granger aren't you? The world knows all about you, and we all know that you've already suffered more than you should have had to- just like Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. So I know for a fact that you can handle this."

He exits then, leaving Hermione alone to call her family. Hermione turns back to Andromeda, who was still lifeless in her bed, and stares miserably at her pale face. Andromeda really was beautiful. She could have had so much more to do in her life, but then Bellatrix came along...

That misery is followed quickly by a rush of anger. Hermione seizes the glass of water that was perched on a table, throwing it hard at the wall. The glass shatters. She watches the glass rain down in a waterfall of shards, but she doesn't care. She picks up a vase and throws it at the same place. She doesn't care- she can fix all of it later with a simple spell.

Another vase is thrown. And another. As Hermione raises the fourth vase, prepared to throw it, she shouts "WHY ARE THERE SO MANY VASES?" and then throws it hard at the wall.

It hits the TV mounted on the wall, and the TV comes crashing to the ground. "IT'S NOT FAIR!" She screams, picking up another vase that was next to the bathroom. "WHY DOES LIFE HAVE TO BE SO HARD?" She throws the vase and grabs yet another vase. "WHY CAN'T WE GO ONE WEEK WITHOUT SOMETHING TERRIBLE HAPPENING? WHY? WHY, WHY WHY?" She throws the vase and picks up the last one. "AND WHY ARE THERE SO MANY VASES?"

She plops back down into the chair, staring around at the destruction she had made. A few pictures had even fallen off of the wall during her tantrum, from when she'd hit them wit a vase.

She sighs, and waves her wand. "Reparo."

All of the broken vases fit back together and place themselves back on the tables. The TV fixes itself and remounts on the wall, as well do the pictures. When the spell is done, the room is fixed, just like it had been when she entered.

Right on cue, the Healer pokes his head in. "If you are planning on staying long, that couch," he points to the small leather couch thing on the side of the room, "is perfectly comfortable. And you can order some food."

"Why do I get all of this stuff?"

The Healer shrugs. "You just found out someone you love died. The least we can do is give you a bed and some food."

Hermione nods, and when the doctor leaves, she takes out her phone to tell Harry the news.

~~~~~

Harry stares at Hermione in disbelief. "The Hall of Desire?"

Hermione smiles a very un-Hermione like smile. "Yes. It shows the people you love the way you wish they were, and the things you want most." She gestures to herself. "That's why I'm pretty."

Harry shakes his head. "No. I don't like you this way- sure, you're beautiful, but you're not the real Hermione. You're not my Hermione." He says. "I liked your bushy hair. And your front teeth- even though you fixed those anyways. I liked your round curves and bright smile. I liked being able to see the gears working in your head, and I liked... I loved you. I still do- except that this isn't you."

Fake Hermione frowns. "You lie. Why would I appear this way if you didn't want me to be pretty?"

Harry smiles. "The real Hermione is pretty. She's beautiful."

"That doesn't explain why I would appear this way."

"Because your a dream." Harry says. "And so maybe, if I just close my eyes and think..." He closes his eyes and pictures real Hermione, standing before him. When he opens them again, there she is- but she isn't bright and beaming like he'd expected.

He tries to take her hand, but his fingers pass through mist. "Hermione?"

"Harry you have to wake up."

"But... you just got here-"

"Harry, please, it's important."

"I haven't even seen the whole hall yet-"

"Harry- WAKE UP!"

Harry gasps and bolts upright in his bed. Hermione, who had been leaning over him, gets it in the nose hard by his forehead and she staggers backwards a bit. "Merlin- Hermione, are you alright?"

She nods, and does a quick jinx on her nose. "Harry, we've got to go."

"Go? Go where?" He looks over at his alarm clock, which said that it was four in the morning. "What's going on? You look dreadful Hermione... did you get any sleep?"

Hermione shakes her head. "Harry, I've been up all night. I got a call from a man about Andromeda..."

Harry's heart stops. "Andromeda?" He echos. "Is she alright?"

She sniffles. "No, Harry, she's not... Andromeda is dead."