Good Omens

Chapter One

"I'm sorry."

The words spilled from her lips irrepressibly. She was sorry, too. She thought that this would be an emotional moment for her, that tears would tumble from her eyes and moisten her cheeks. But her face was dry. It was how she knew she was doing the right thing.

She gazed at the man in front of her, his face resting on his palms, his ruddy locks falling over his fingers. His hair needed a trim. The afternoon sun shone through the lounge room window, reaching his head and highlighting the copper and red gold strands. Oh, how she had loved that hair. She spent the majority of her adolescent years imagining what it would be like to run her fingers through that hair. She had gotten her chance, of course. What should have been the end of their seventh year, had it not been for the Great Wizarding War. She remembered the moment that his lips touched hers for the first time and how she felt such a sense of satisfaction. She had finally managed to do it, to have him admit to himself that he did, indeed, love her.

He raised his brown eyes, now glazed over with dejection. He seemed broken. Damaged. Half a man. "Is there someone else?" His voice echoed his pained expression.

What a question to ask. Hermione flinched in pain. Had she cheated on her first real boyfriend? Of course not, how dare he even insinuate something like that. But there was someone else that she needed to put first in her life, someone more important than her deadpan relationship with Ron.

Herself.

"No," she replied, simply but firmly. She had given him ten years of her life. Ten years for him to figure out whether their relationship could develop into marriage. But he never asked, and she never pushed it. So they just kept on keeping on.

Reaching 29 years of age was a kick in the gut. The days passed meaninglessly, her mortal clock ticking ever louder with the passing years. What had she achieved in the last ten years? Stalemate, she answered herself. To be honest, she was bored. She missed the challenge that school presented and she was stuck in a dead-end ministry position.

"I am sorry," she repeated. He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat. "I know that you will probably need some time, but I'm hoping to part amicably."

He shifted uncomfortably on the sofa and she stared down at him. How could her feelings have changed so dramatically? When did this happen?

"I will always be your friend, Ron," she murmured, gently. "But I can't keep living like this."

"Is it because of the marriage thing?" he grunted suddenly. "Because we can still get married, if that's what you're wanting."

"Even if it was, that would have been the lousiest proposal I have ever heard," Hermione replied, her lips twitching half in amusement. "I've just...I've fallen out of love with you, Ron. There's nothing else to say. To me, our relationship is over."

She watched the trail of a single tear make its way aimlessly down his left cheek and realised with a start that he was trying very hard not to lose control of himself.

"This is all my fault," he muttered.

She wanted to comfort him, but kept her distance. "I'm sure it's not. We'll be okay, given time. But for now, I really need to just get away."

"I won't beg you to stay," he grumbled. "I know you wouldn't anyway, once you've got your heart set on something."

And so she left him there. Left him sitting in the lounge room of the flat they had shared for ten years. As she hit the street, she reached into her back pocket for her smart phone and dialled a number, hitting the call button. Living in muggle London had its benefits, and one of them was being able to talk to her other best friend at the drop of a hat.

"Hullo?" Harry answered the phone roughly. He sounded tired, but she knew that his work kept him up late most nights.

"Hiya Harry," Hermione greeted, trying to sound somewhat cheerful. "Sorry to disturb you at work, but I was wondering if you could possibly put in leave for the rest of today. You may want to come over to our flat, I think Ron needs you right about now."

"Why's that?" Harry said, his voice changing and becoming more interested. "Have the Chudley Cannons lost again? He can't be too traumatised, it is a frequent occurrence after all."

"No," she replied shortly. "I'm sorry to tell you this over the phone. I've...I've broken it off with him. We're over."

There was a pregnant pause.

Harry finally spoke again, "Run that past me one more time, I think the signal must be a bit dodgy where I am, maybe there's too much magic in the air."

"It's not that," Hermione said, as she continued to walk down the busy path. "You heard me fine. Ron and I have broken up. We are no longer in a relationship."

"Bugger," Harry swore. "What happened?"

"I just...I need some time," she said. "I feel stuck, Harry. My life is going nowhere. I...I just need a change of scenery and I've realised that the scenery doesn't include Ron."

"I'll head over in about ten minutes," Harry said. "Are you sure there's nothing I can say to change your mind? You've been together for ten years, Hermione. That's not something you should just throw away."

"I'm grateful that I've had such a loyal partner for those years, and I'm not throwing anything away." Hermione turned into a side alley and stopped. "I'm going away for bit, Harry. You won't see me for a while and I don't know when I'll be back. Take care of him for me, will you?"

And with that, she hung up her mobile, took her wand out and disapparated.

***

The plane ride to Australia was long, but peaceful. Her heart felt lighter than it had in years and she felt something else that had often alluded her – free. Free to do what she wanted, when she wanted and who she wanted. Inter-country apparation wasn't possible, but it didn't bother her – these 20 something odd hours had given her the chance to think and reflect.

She remembered the first time she had taken this journey to the land down under. Just after the War had finished, she had come in search of her parents to return their memories. While they were grateful to remember, and have their cherished daughter back – they loved their new life too much to want to return to the UK. They acclimatised to the Australian Victorian coastline far easier than Hermione had expected and had made some great friends there. They lived a few hours out of Melbourne on a small island that was home to a close-knit community, and was surrounded by little penguins, seals and of course, lots and lots of seagulls.

Hermione loved the little island and was happy for her parents, but missed them terribly. She was so grateful that muggle technology had advanced to the point that she could talk to them face to face via a webcam – an experience that completely freaked Ron out, of course.

She stiffened, unable to stop the thought from occurring. She knew that she wasn't in love with him anymore, but she was so afraid that she would still miss him. If not him personally, she would miss the companionship; miss having that person there always, no matter what. But she craved passion in her life. She needed another adventure.

And that's one of the reasons why Hermione hadn't brought a bag with her – just the clothes on her back. The thought of doing something spontaneous and wild and something just so not-her was thrilling. It also meant she didn't have to wait at the baggage terminal and managed to squeeze through customs in a relatively short time.

"How ya garn there love? You visiting for business or pleasure?" A friendly customs agent asked, with her slightly ocker accent.

Hermione smiled and passed over her paperwork. "I'm well, thank you. And mostly pleasure, visiting my parents who live out on Phillip Island."

"Oh, that's beautiful out there. I like to take my kids in the summer," the customs agent replied. "You have yourself a lovely trip."

"Thank you very much."

Mostly pleasure, she had said to the muggle. Who knew whether that was true, but she hoped it was. With that thought, she quickly ducked into a dark corner and turned on the spot, apparating to her parents' house.

It looked the same. Nothing had changed at the small three bedroom beach shack – yet it still looked fresh to Hermione. The flowers were in bloom out the front and she had noticed that her Father had taken special care in arranging them. He had found a hobby in gardening and was very proud of his bountiful fruit tree collection in the back yard, which if you stopped to ask him about, he would boast to you that they were all grown from seed.

She jumped up the steps to the front patio and rapped her knuckles on the front door.

A few moments passed and her mother answered the door, a tea towel hanging on her shoulder.

"Yes?" She asked, as she opened the door. Then she saw it was her daughters face staring back and her own broke into a smile. "Hermione?!"

"Hi Mum!" Hermione giggled as she was pulled into a crushing hug.

"What did you say?" Her Fathers voice called from the kitchen.

"Wendell, it's Hermione!"

Hermione smiled to herself. Even though she had returned the memories of Louise and Frank Granger to them, they still used the names she had created instead – Wendell and Monica Wilkins. Everyone knew them here as those names, and it just seemed to stick for them.

"Dad!" Hermione pulled out of her mothers embrace and rushed to give him a hug as well. "Oh, I've missed you two so much!"

"What are you doing here, darling?" he asked, looking down at her face and brushing a curl out of her eyes. "I know that look. What's happened?"

"I..." her voice faltered. Her father always had a knack for knowing when something was wrong. "I've come here to stay for a bit, if that's ok."

Her mother's face lightened up, before falling slightly. "Wait, what does Ron think about this?"

"Ron doesn't know where I am," she admitted. "I broke up with him before I left."

Monica smiled sadly at her daughter. "Oh, sweety, I am so sorry. Are you sure you just don't want to take a break and see how things are when you head back?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, it's over. We both know it... I think we've just been clinging on this last two years because we had already put in so much time together. I will always be his friend, but for now, we both need space. Not to mention...I don't know when I'll be going back."

Her parents exchanged a glance. "You are always welcome here," her father finally said. "You know the spare room is yours. Do you need help with your bags?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "I didn't bring any! I just hopped on the first flight and came here. I need to head into the city tomorrow to register with the Ministry and see if there are any jobs going, so I'll buy some clothes then."

"Such impulsiveness is very unlike you, Hermione," Wendell frowned. "Having an early mid-life crisis?"

"Maybe," she laughed again and gave him another hug. "I have really, really missed you guys."