Who: Hermione Granger and George Weasley What: The return of Hermione Granger When: June 18, 1998, 11pm Where: George Weasley's flat, above Weasley Wizard Wheezes Rating: Potentially high depending on what happens? Possibly for recounting of Battle of Hogwarts stuff? Status: In progress Note: Hermione starts the thread under glamour.
Being back didn't feel right, it didn't feel the same. Diagon Alley and the streets that she'd known so well from years of school shopping and meeting friends felt like they had lost their luster. True, that from the outside it was mostly the same, the rebuilding had certainly commenced, but it was almost like the soul of the place was gone, damaged - at least presently - beyond repair.
Hermione adjusted the hood of her cloak, bringing it further down over her head. Even with the glamour she wore both on her face and on her arms, Hermione wouldn't be comfortable until she was off the street. Almost a full month of being hunted by Voldemort's forces had left her all too familiar with the feeling of eyes on her back. It had left her with Moody's words, Constant Vigilance, practically tattooed on her brain. In truth, she hadn't wanted to leave, to go under, but in that split second, seeing the eyes, she'd become the prey. And they hadn't stopped. Leaving, leaving Ron, the Weasleys, her family, it hadn't been what she wanted, but she'd found allies. Allies she needed to reach out to once she finished settling.
Her having access to Grimmauld was just another clue. It was where she'd stayed the previous night. The rumors they'd been hearing and everything being posted by the newly placed 'Minister for Magic' publicly... She couldn't stay away any longer. She'd wanted to reach out to Ron, let him know she was there. She'd actually replied to what he'd written but had had to spell it so no one could see. It was too dangerous, where he was. Having her reach out would just put him in more danger. The Weasley house was absolutely being watched. It was why she'd come here. 93 Diagon Alley. The crowds were gone, and given that teh store would be closed, she thought now would be a good time.
Sneaking into the back alley, Hermione carefully made her way into the flat via a combination of apparation, spellwork and ward modification. The flat was like she remembered it from the few times she'd been over, but it was clear that George wasn't taking care of the place well. Stepping over a pile of... something, Hermione pulled down her hood, her eye catching on an old photograph. She moved to look at it, a moving snapshot from the World Quidditch Cup, and picked it up, blinking back some tears. They would do her no good now.