Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns all of the caracters exept for one or two, plus of course the whole Harry Potter universe. The song and the title belong to one of the best bands in the world, Queen.

Author's note: This is one of the first stories that I wrote in English, so don't be too harsh on me, please. The idea of the story came before the seventh book was published, so you'll just have to imagine that it didn't happen. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

No-one But You

It was a beautiful October day in a small town on the east side of Britain, where Hermione Granger hurried into a tiny coffee shop to escape the crispy air outside. She was cold. Yet the sun shone through the window, and she could see red leaves falling from big maple trees to the busy street, where people hurried by, taking no time to realise how unbelievably beautiful this day had become.

But Hermione did. She sat down at a little round table near the window, watching mothers lead their small children into clothing shops and sophisticated men wearing black frocks and hats on their way to work with their expensive briefcases. Yes, it was truly a beautiful day. A smiling young waitress came and asked her if she wanted coffee. Hermione nodded, her mind somewhere in another part of the country, at another time.

The mellow Dolly Parton song that was playing on the radio ended, and another one began, sweeping Hermione to reality.

A hand above the water
An angel reaching for the sky
Is it raining in heaven -
Do you want us to cry?

She recognised this song. Somewhere she had learned that it was made by an old British band, Queen, to honour the memories of Diana Spencer, the muggle princess who had died in a car crash few years ago, and the late singer of the band, Freddie Mercury. Hermione got caught up in the sad tune of the song. It had nothing to do with princess Diana, and she surely never cared much for the long dead singer. No, the song hit much closer to home, and her mind drifted to the painful memories she had tried to repress for the last five years.

The last battle. After they had spent two years travelling undercover around the country, putting their lives at stake while trying to terminate the remains of Voldemort's horcruxes, they died. And left her alone.

The pretty waitress brought her a big steaming cup of coffee, the cream shaped like a leaf. Her single tear ruined the picture.

And everywhere the broken-hearted
On every lonely avenue
No-one could reach them
No-one but you

She hated the fact that she still couldn't think about it without crying, and that the images from that day still vividly appeared in her mind, every single time.

The paralyzing darkness and the horrible cold that followed the hundreds of dementors.

Her hands were trembling as she took a sip of her coffee and she looked out of the window, trying to shake out of her thoughts. She saw a man tie a big sheepdog to a tree, and a little boy standing in the middle of the street, looking around.

It wasn't enough to distract her. The memories forced them self into her mind, making her relive that horrible night all over again, like she had done so many times before. They had ended up in the same graveyard in Little Hangleton where Voldemort had been reincarnated after the triwizard tournament. Somehow she could not remember how they got there, and now it seemed irrelevant.

But she did remember everything that followed. Her fight with Bellatrix. It had become so intense that Lestrange had ended on top of her on the ground. The feeling of being unable to breathe, with those disgusting fingers around her neck still made her nauseous. Somehow her head had turned to the side and while she was choking to death she saw her best friends fighting with Voldemort himself. Sparks of colours flew in all directions. She couldn't keep track of what was happening as her vision blurred. That moment seemed to have lasted for hours. And then a poisoned green jet of light hit one of the boys.

She had instantly known it was Ron, even though she couldn't see him. That one moment would be marked in her memory forever, burnt into her conscience for the rest of her life. Ever since she had wished that Bellatrix had succeeded with her goal. That the evil bitch would have tightened the grip around her neck so that she could have faded into blackness forever.

But Bellatrix saw it too. She sat stunned on top of her as they watched Harry hex Voldemort to the ground. And even though the boy she had been in love with for so many years had been killed just seconds earlier, Hermione felt relieved when she saw the green light from Harry's wand hit that monster's face. But Bellatrix hadn't. She screamed in rage as she stumbled of Hermione and fell to the ground beside her, shouting the killing curse before she fell into the mud.

Hermione didn't see it hit Harry. She had reached her wand and still remembered the saltiness of her tears as her curse hit Bellatrix in the back, only seconds too late.

One by one
Only the Good die young
They're only flying too close to the sun
And life goes on -
Without you...

And then it was over. A whole world full of wizards was happy. They had won and everything would be good again. Of course they were sad that their young hero had died, but the grief of the public was shallow and false, and she heard whispers on the streets that the death of Harry Potter had just been a sacrifice that had to be paid for peace. After it was all over she moved into the Burrow.

The whole Weasley family was a mess. Molly couldn't stop crying and Arthur didn't speak for a very long time. Ginny was the worst though, and Hermione feared for her. Hermione knew that she and Harry hadn't been able to keep away from each other throughout the search for the horcruxes, but she didn't have any idea how deeply their relationship had developed. But Harry was dead, and Ginny just kept inside her room, crying.

After the funerals, she disappeared, and nobody had seen her since.

Another tricky situation
A get to drowin' in the blues
And i find myself thinkin'
Well - what would you do?

She had tried to go on with her life. She lived at the Burrow for a year after the war, trying to help the family get back on their feet. She met Victor Krum again. It was a short relationship that reminded her too much of her past, the wonderful adolescence years with her two best friends, and she felt she had to let that go. Let Ron go.

A year ago she had met Stan Donovan, a good looking muggle in a medical school. He was a nice man, and she felt comfortable with him. He knew the trauma that she had been through, losing her two childhood friends, but she still hadn't told him she was a witch, so she had been living the life of a muggle since she had met him. A month ago she had gotten tired of it, and told him she needed time alone to travel.

So here she was, alone in an unfamiliar muggle town, crying over her past, her tears dripping into the coffee mug.

Yes! - it was such an operation
Forever paying every due
Hell, you made a sensation
You found a way through - and

The waitress finally snatched her out of her bitter thoughts.

"Are you alright, miss?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you," Hermione sniffled.

"Can I get you a tissue or something?" she asked concerned.

"No thank you miss, I'm fine."

The waitress smiled and told her to let her know if she needed anything, and went to serve other costumers.

Hermione felt awful. She looked out the window, trying desperately to distract her mind. The clouds were gathering in the sky, blocking the sun. Then she noticed the little boy again. He looked about four or five years old, with flaming red hair, and seemed lost. She felt her stomach tightened when she looked at him, but she couldn't understand why.

He was still there, in the middle of the street, wandering around like he was looking for someone; no one on the street paid any attention to him.

Hermione decided to use the little boy as an excuse to take her mind of her thoughts, even just for a few minutes.

She stood up, put some money on the table for the coffee and walked outside toward the little boy.

"Hi, there," she called out to him and he looked up to her. Her heart sank down to her stomach, and she felt nauseous.

His eyes were emerald green.

She bit her lip. It meant nothing. She felt embarrassed for letting her imagination carry her away with something so obviously coincidental.

One by one
Only the good die young
They're only flyin' too close to the sun
We'll remember -
Forever...

Her voice was still trembling as she asked:

"Are you alright?"

The boy looked down and didn't answer.

"What's wrong?" she asked and bent down to him when he didn't look at her.

"My mom says I'm not allowed to talk to strangers," he said and looked at her with those big green eyes. She smiled slightly.

"What's your name?"

"Danny,"

"I'm Hermione, and she's probably right. But I'm just here to help you. Did you lose your mom?" she asked. He nodded slowly.

"Well, then I'll try to help you find her. What's your mom's name?"

"Umm… Ginny Weasley, I think she went that way, but I can't find her," the boy answered, and pointed down the street.

And now the party must be over
I guess we'll never understand
The sense of your leaving
Was it the way it was planned?

The overwhelming feelings rushed to her head and attacked her body so that she was unable to speak and her mouth dried up. She couldn't think; her mind went completely blank. Her head started spinning and the vision of the little boy in front of her blurred, as if he were merely a dream that she was waking up from. She closed her eyes and put a hand to the ground for support, just to keep her from losing her balance.

But then she opened her eyes again, and he was still standing in front of her. She saw his face clearer than anything she had ever looked at, she could recognise every single feature of it.

Tears welled up behind her eyes, and she hadn't felt such strong urge to crawl up in a ball on the ground and cry for a very long time. And the little boy still stood there, waiting for her to say something. She wasn't strong enough for this. Why couldn't anyone else have found him? Why did this have to happen to her? What did he expect her to do? She couldn't move, she wasn't ready for what would come if she did.

And so we grace another table
And raise our glasses one more time
There's a face at the window
And I ain't never, never sayin' goodbye...

Then she heard her. A young woman came rushing towards them.

"Danny!" she called, but froze in her tracks when she saw Hermione. Hermione let herself go, stumbled up on her feet and threw her arms around Ginny, with tears flowing down her cheeks.

When Ginny started crying too she felt the anger well up inside her.

She loosened her grip around her and put her hands on Ginny's cheeks.

"Where the hell were you!" Hermione cried out, paying no attention to the people who had started to gather around them, watching the weird display of affection with fascination.

"Hermione…" Ginny just whispered.

"Why didn't you…" she tried to get some sense into her words, but this whole moment was so senseless she couldn't understand what she was saying.

Ginny looked at her with sore bitterness on her face and shoved her hands away. She had aged. Dark circles framed her eyes and her skin was spotted red from her emotions.

"What the fuck could I have done? They where dead! Both of them! And he just left me there… and I couldn't face it when I knew…" She looked at her son.

The poor boy looked frightened at seeing his mother so overwhelmed in the arms of some woman he had never seen before. When Ginny noticed the look on his face she took his hands in hers.

"Shh… Danny, it's OK, I'm sorry," she said soothingly as she wiped the tears off her face.

"Ginny," Hermione said softly. Ginny turned to her and opened her mouth to say something, but Hermione stopped her. Suddenly it didn't matter anymore. She didn't want to know how or why all these awful things had happened to them. All she cared about was that she had found her.

"He looks so much like them both."

Ginny smiled through her tears and let out a tiny laughter.

One by one
Only the good die young
They're only flyin' too close to the sun
Cryin' for nothing
Cryin' for no-one
No-one but you.