Prologue

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It was the summer that followed the war, and Hermione and Harry were standing around a cauldron on the outskirts of the Burrow, with, what was commonly known in their world as, the blood bond potion simmered between them.

They had been sitting in a nervous silence for what seemed like hours. The ritual... it was something they had thought necessary after the experiences of the past year. The two of them watched as the colouring of the bubbling liquid changed from a deep red to a vibrant blue, signalling that it was ready.

In Hermione's opinion, it looked disgusting.

The blood bonding ceremony was something only very powerful witches and wizards could do. It essentially involved what the name suggested. Taking a friendship and turning it into a bond of family. It strengthened magic, and protected both parties involved. It was something that Harry approached Hermione about, and it didn't take a genius to work out why. Him, an orphan boy who lost everything and her, a girl who had wiped her family's memories to keep them safe. The ministry was still unable to locate Wendell and Monica Wilkins, so Hermione Granger was considered by most as an orphan as well. If it wasn't so sad, the similarities between them would have been almost laughable.

To achieve the status of blood siblings, the pair had to perform an ancient ritual that was very, very dangerous. If Molly Weasley knew what was about to take place on her property she would put a stop to what everyone would definitely say was madness. That was why both Harry and Hermione both agreed that it would be best if they kept it a secret from everyone. Not even Ron knew about it.

"Are you sure this will work Mione?" Harry questioned, looking warily at Hermione

"Yes. We followed the instructions exactly, and did everything the book said. I'm sure this will work." She hesitated before continuing "And if it doesn't... there isn't much we can do about it once we take the potion."

They both grabbed a glass and filled it up with the oddly smelling blue liquid.

"You're sure?" Hermione's voice was quieter now.

"Bottoms up." Harry replied, and took a large gulp of the odorous potion.

.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.

A few weeks after the successful bonding ceremony, Ginny and Hermione were sat on the front step outside the Burrow, enjoying the peace and quiet.

Ron and Harry had taken a trip to Diagon Alley to the Quidditch supply store only the day before. Hermione desperately wanted to go with them but Ginny had insisted she stay for one on one girl talk so, in typical Hermione fashion, had asked for some books from Flourish and Blotts. Also unsurprisingly, Ginny had wanted some new quidditch gloves to replace the mess that were her old ones.

Because both boys thought of themselves as loving and caring friends and in Ginny's case boyfriend, they both agreed to the terms of the trip without them.

Ginny took a deep breath, blowing it out dramatically in a sigh... For the first time in a while, she felt no pain for those who had been lost. It could almost be mistaken for peace, if not for the sorrow that didn't seem to be going anywhere any time soon. The Weasley's were a lucky family, if it hadn't been for Hermione's quick thinking and her knowledge that Fawkes tears could heal any wound, Fred Weasley would have also been one of the casualties of the Final Battle.

Hermione, on the other hand, was doing a good job of saying fuck you to her guilt that stemmed from not being able to save Remus or Tonks or any of the others who had lost their lives that night. It wasn't her fault, she knew that.

But she still missed them.

But even though the guilt was fine, and she was dealing with it, her and Harry staying at the Burrow still somehow felt unnatural. However, when Harry had suggested they stay at Grimmauld Place, Mrs Weasley had kicked up such a fuss they had conceded to avoid making anything worse. Instead of forcing them to move out and allowing the pair to distance themselves from the family, Molly had spoken about adding Harry and Hermione to the infamous Weasley clock that sat in the living room as it always had. Claiming she had been meaning to.

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