Only You (Hiatus)

Four

“Welcome to the Roundstone House Hotel. Checking in?” an older gentleman greeted her.
“Thank you. Um, yes, actually. Granger. Room for one,” Hermione answered with a delighted smile. The gentleman was beaming, warm and friendly. If everyone in this town was like this, she could definitely see herself being very happy here.
“Wonderful. I’m Diarmuid. My wife and I own the hotel,” he introduced himself properly before turning to the computer. “Let’s see… yes, Ms. Hermione Granger. We have you in room seven.”
He checked her in and handed her a key card. “Would you like a hand with your bags or anything?”
Hermione shook her head, smiling. “That’s okay. I pack light.”
“Not a problem. You’ll find your room up the stairs and to the left. Breakfast starts at 7:00 a.m., and the restaurant down the hall on the right takes last orders at 8:00 p.m., but the bar will serve food until ten. If you need anything, feel free to call reception or just pop down and someone will help you out. Have a pleasant stay.”
“Thank you very much, Diarmuid,” Hermione replied, genuinely grateful as she headed toward the restaurant.

After a four-hour drive and skipping lunch, she was positively famished.
“Evening, Ms. Are you a guest here at the hotel or just dining with us?” a lovely young woman asked as Hermione entered.
“I’m a guest. I’m in room seven.”
The woman entered the information into the system and smiled. “Here we are. Is it just yourself?”
“Yes, just me,” Hermione replied with a small smile.

She was led to a cosy table for two overlooking the sea. The young woman laid down a menu and asked, “Do you know what you’d like to drink, or would you like a few minutes?”
“Oh, um, I’ll just have some tap water, please.”
“No problem. Would you like a jug brought to the table?”
“Yes, please. That sounds great.”
The woman nodded and went to fetch the water, giving Hermione a few minutes to look over the menu. Everything sounded wonderful, but Hermione wasn’t sure she could manage much, so when the woman returned, she ordered the vegetable soup and a couple of white bread rolls.

As she ate, Hermione found herself gazing out at the sea. It was enchanting, and she wondered how it might look at sunset.
The food was incredible, and the staff continued to be exceptionally friendly. She could even hear the faint sound of live music drifting from the bar as she paid and headed up to her room, where it was surprisingly quiet.

Feeling the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with her, Hermione opted for an early night. A good night’s sleep before exploring the town in the morning.

At 8:00 a.m., Hermione was downstairs enjoying a lovely Irish breakfast accompanied by one of the best cups of tea she had ever had. The day was beautiful, fifteen degrees with only a gentle breeze and bright sunshine, perfect for wandering a new town.

After breakfast, she returned to her room, grabbed a light jacket and a small shoulder bag, and placed her wand at the bottom of her suitcase, sealing it into the lining for extra security. With her phone and wallet tucked safely into her handbag, she headed out.

No more magic.

She knew some wandless magic if she truly needed it, but nothing the Ministry could trace. She was leaving that world behind, starting today.

Fixing her hair into a high ponytail and adjusting her top, she sighed and nodded with determination. Today she would figure out what she was meant to do here if she was destined to stay.
With that final thought, Hermione Granger stepped out of her hotel room and toward her future as a Muggle in this beautiful Irish town.

Everyone she passed was friendly, wishing her good morning as they went about their day. It was pleasantly quiet. There were people moving about, but no large crowds or rowdy groups. Even when she passed a group of teenagers, they simply greeted her and continued on, chatting among themselves without causing any disturbance.
It was a wonderfully welcoming feeling.

Hermione noticed a small bakery and smiled, stepping inside as the smell proved irresistible.
“Good morning, young miss,” a friendly man greeted her with a smile that reminded her fondly of a certain groundskeeper.
“Good morning. I couldn’t resist popping in to have a look. Everything smells wonderful.”
“Well, that’s good to hear, especially when my young lad burnt the last lot,” the man chuckled. “He’s learning the trade. Only fourteen, so you’ve got to give him some slack.”
“Well, I definitely didn’t smell burning,” Hermione laughed softly, noticing the fondness in the man’s smile when he spoke of his son. “You must be proud of him, keeping up the family business?”
“I sure am. He knows he can do whatever he wants, so I was blown away when he asked to learn to be a baker.” The man’s eyes were bright, practically glowing. “His brother had no interest. Went off to study sport, and we fully support him. But it’s nice to know this one might want to keep the business going. My grandfather started this little shop, passed it to my mother, who passed it to me. It feels good thinking about passing it on again.”
He shook his head and chuckled. “Sorry, I’m rambling,” he laughed again before adding, “But anyway, is there anything I can get you?”
Hermione smiled warmly. “One croissant, please.”
“No bother,” he nodded, placing it into a small paper bag. “First time visiting Roundstone?”
“Yes. Though I’m considering staying,” Hermione admitted.
“Well, now that would be exciting. There are plenty of lovely places around, and I’m sure you’ll find exactly what you’re looking for,” he said warmly, handing her the bag. “Consider it a welcome gift.”
Hermione’s eyes widened. “Are you sure? That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s no problem at all,” he replied, glancing toward someone who had just entered the shop. “Excuse me,” he said before moving around the counter. “I’ve your order over here. Thanks a mill for picking it up.”

Hermione waved goodbye as she left, smiling as she walked along and enjoyed her croissant while taking in her surroundings. A clothing shop, a chemist, a small doctor’s surgery, a vet clinic and grooming studio, a fresh grocery store, and a general store beside a hardware shop lined the street. All the essentials, neatly arranged, with no overlap.
Dropping the wrapper into a bin, Hermione sighed happily.
That was when she noticed a small corner shop called Tír na nÓg.
Tilting her head, she crossed the street and stepped inside.

The shop was far larger than it appeared from the outside. The moment Hermione entered, she felt a magical aura, unlike any she had known before. It was natural, ancient, and unmistakably not wizarding.
Moving further in, she admired the incredible artwork, intricate handmade crafts, and a stunning selection of crystals and incense. This was Muggle witchcraft, rooted in nature. As she reached the back of the shop, she found shelves filled with books on Irish myths, legends, and folklore.
It felt magical in a purer way.
Not spellwork or blood magic, but the quiet magic of life itself.