Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to Harry Potter or the song Paradise which belongs to Vanessa Carlton. Only the plot is my own.

Author's Note: This was started just after HBP came out. It's my response to it and how I saw things going. I guess I'm still one of those not completely happy with how things turned out so I am continuing to write this version. We'll see how it goes.

Paradise

Chapter 1

well nothing hurts and nothing bleeds
when covers tucked in tight
funny when the bottom drops
how she forgets to fight ... to fight

The view is brittle. The limbs of trees sway in the cold, winter-like wind…the sky gray, heavy. Staring out the window, Hermione felt at one with the scene. Downstairs she hears her parents moving around, probably making dinner. Food is the farthest thing from her mind as she exhales on the window.

Using her index finger she draws a little squiggle. She's never been one for doodles, but right now she's not herself. She doubts anyone would recognize her if they got a good look. She looks nothing like the girl who left him on the platform in June. Nothing like the girl who promised to meet them as soon as possible to begin the search.

Once she returned to her parents house (because this no longer felt like home to her), they began the intrusion. The intrusion into her life. She was informed of the decision after it was made. She would be taking her levels and begin the process of applying to university. This life that she had been leading was not what they wanted for her; they expected more…….normalcy. She snorted at that though. Normalcy? She had never had it, she had never been normal. Why did they expect it now?

Hermione fought with them about it. She spoke calmly and informed them of the precautions taken. She spoke more forcibly and told them of her views on the decision. She yelled and screamed that it wasn't fair. She stopped talking altogether and ignored their pleas.

every time she closed her eyes
she saw what could have been

She has this constant feeling of pressure in her chest now. It's as though breathing has become a struggle. She hopes that they are waiting, wondering why she hasn't responded to their letters. They were to meet days ago. Her only hope was that he….they would become worried and come for her. He knew that she was with him on this journey. He would surely wonder where she was. Unless…no…she wouldn't think that. It did seem as though she was easily cast off.

The thing was, is that she is seventeen now. She is of legal age in their world. Anyone else would have packed up and left when the arguments failed. Hermione though, was different. She respected her parents. She was terrified of disappointing them, and it seems she had. She didn't want to make it worse by disappearing. With things so frightening right now, she didn't need the pressure of losing her parents and being at odds with them.

She hears footsteps on the stairs and she quickly wipes the window with her sleeve. With a short knock comes the voice of her mother, “Hermione? Dinner is ready. Come down and eat with us.”

Once again she remains stoic. She hasn't eaten today, not that she's notice that. Her thoughts remain on him. Always him.

The footsteps retreat as she gets up from her vigil. Their pleas are becoming less and less.

Thoughts of escaping invade her mind again. A quick note. A carefully packed bag. A promise to return and explain everything once this war, battle, fight, was finished. Once her job was done.

Hermione reaches under bed to grab her duffle. Sweaters. Jeans. Trainers. Toothbrush and paste. Books. Paper. Everything that could help. Wand. Note to parents. Fifteen minutes, one bag, a note, and a look at her room. She could do this. She could defy them just this once. When it was over, they'd understand.

With a deep breath, she shrinks her bag, puts it in her pocket, grabs her wand, turns, and disappears.

Her arrival at The Leaky Cauldron goes unnoticed. He…they are suppose to be here. Maybe they haven't left yet or they left word of where they were going. Spotting Tom wiping down a table, she approaches, “Tom.” She pauses, “Is he….are Harry and Ron here?”

Worried eyes meet hers as he stops to look at her. His eyes dart around as if to see if anyone is listening. Quietly, “Harry's here, but not the Weasley boy. Room seven.” He goes back to his chore.

With a mumble of thanks and thought about the safety of staying where information is given so easily, she goes to the second floor. The pressure in her chest has lessened with the news that he's here still and her footsteps quicken when she sees his door. With a hurried knock she waits. And waits.

well all she wants and all she needs
are reasons to survive

Tears fill her eyes. He obviously went out, but that doesn't help right now. Her need to see him and to know that this step she's taken is okay is important. She needs to know that he needs her here. That he needs her.

With a sigh, Hermione sits in front of his door and tries to not be in the way of guests. Harry will come back and she'll be waiting. Her bag that was shrunk down is pulled out and enlarged. She gets out a book she “borrowed” from the school library (quickly shrinking her bag again) and begins to read where she left off. She was hoping to find some answers in it, but her hope was not being answered.

It's quieter than she thought it would be, but people still come and go. It's only the sound of footsteps stopping does she look up.

He looks like the boy she left in June. Same determination in his eyes. Same stance that tells he has a mission. This is the boy who everyone has placed their faith in. One look in his eyes tells a different story. They speak of his tiredness, of his own lack of faith in the world around him. She even sees disbelief.

“You're here.” His voice is almost soundless.

Getting up, she nods her head. “I'm here.” Following tradition, she goes forward and envelops him in a hug. She's not surprised to feel his arms circle around her. Pulling away she begins her explanation, “Sorry I'm late. Hope I haven't messed things up.”

Watching as Harry unlocks the door; she grabs her book and follows him in. “Where's Ron?”

“He's not coming; thinks it's better to stay with his family.” Harry's voice is detached as if keeping something to himself.

“Okay….” Hermione made a mental note to return to that comment later. Putting her book on the desk, she takes a look around the room. Maps litter the floor and desk. Papers with locations and question marks are on the bedside table. “You've been hard at work. Come up with anything?” She picks up the stack and sorts through them.

“A few ideas, but nothing concrete. Dumbledore probably kept notes or something. I need to check his office.”

Going to sit by him on the bed she asks, “Can we even get in the castle? Is anyone there?”

“You think I'm going to let that stop me? Someone has to be there. Hagrid…..someone. All I know is that I need to get into his office.” Harry shifts around the messes and leans against a dresser. “Are you going to tell me what's going on?”

Taking a deep breath Hermione began, “My parents decided that I wasn't going back to school. They wanted to remove me completely away from this nonsense as they now refer to it. They made plans for me to take my levels and apply to university.” She was trying to get all of it out hoping that by telling him, it would all seem less real. “I told them I wasn't going back to Hogwarts; I was going with you and Ron. We were going to end all of this.” Hermione let out a breath and began fiddling with the blanket.

“They went mad. Said I couldn't. That's when I realized how much I had disappointed them. I can't stand to do that to them. So I stayed, as long as I could. Tonight it just became too much. I'm seventeen, I can leave. You needed me.”

Hermione looked up to meet Harry's eyes. “I didn't know when you were leaving. I hadn't heard from you or Ron. That probably meant you were both leaving without me, or you were leaving us here. Both, which are incredibly stupid plans. And I am going to take a guess that you were lying about why Ron isn't here.”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I am going alone. I don't need the two of you hurt.”

Throwing her hands in the air Hermione tried not to yell….too loud, “We told you in June that we had our chance to turn back and we would rather be beside you.”

“God I wish you weren't so stubborn.”

“Look who's talking.” She watched as he threw himself back on the bed and put his arm over his eyes.

“We're a fine pair.”

Hermione laughed as she lay back beside him. “Yes, quite a match.”

Harry let out a sigh and looked at her. “So what are the chances of Ron not catching on to my plan?”

Raising her eyebrows and pretending to think, “He's smarter than he looks. He'll figure it out.”

It was several moments before either of them made a sound. Hermione felt the bed move as he rolled to his side to look at her. “Do you….want to stay here then?”

She looked at him, “If you don't mind.”

“Yeah. I mean, no, I don't care. You can have this,” gesturing to the bed, “I'll take the chair or floor.” He made to grab a pillow.

“Harry, stop. There's plenty of room and I'll be fine.” Hermione rolled her eyes as she grabbed her shrunken bag out of her pockets. With a quick wave of her wand, everything was normal sized.

She heard a quiet chuckle and looked up. “You never cease to amaze me.”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders and grabbed something comfortable to sleep in. “I'll be right back.”

Once down the hall and in the bathroom, Hermione checked her appearance. Puffy, red eyes with a nose to match. Frazzled hair. `Well perfect,' she thought, `Not that Harry would notice.'

She tried not to care about Harry's opinion. His mind was occupied with life and death issues and he'd just ended things with Ginny. Her own emotions were new and could possibly be the result of recent situations. Plus she had spent the last year acting like a jealous teenager when she actually didn't understand her own feelings about Ron and Lavender.

This evening was just a regular evening. Well…a stressed out, run away from home, slightly awkward, regular evening. `Things will be better in the morning,' Hermione repeats in her mind as she looks in the mirror once more.

She quickly washed her face, brushed her teeth, changed, and headed back to the room. As she walked back into the room, Hermione put her hair up messily.

“So, you're okay with this?”

Harry turned from the window and smiled. “Yeah, sure.” Something about his voice wasn't that convincing and the smile didn't reach his eyes. He gathered his own stuff and mumbled about being right back.

Hermione yawned as she climbed into the right side of the bed and faced the window. It wasn't long before she was asleep and thoughts about the eventful evening were long forgotten.

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