((A/N: Ah! I'm back! LoL Anyway...yes, I'm here righting yet another story. I must have no life :-D. But that's okay, because this is some fun stuff. Anyway...a few things to clear up:
1) Almost all wizards have entered into the 21st Century as far as Cars are concerned. Fred and George bought their own car, and they also bought one for their parents. I'm just gonna spruce the cars up a little. You know...give 'em some gizmos.
2) I heard of the city "Hackensack, Arkansas" in a movie called Les Girls...it's old, you may not know it...but I like the name...full of whimsy and fun don't you think?
3) Read my story...I hope you enjoy it. I hope you get my little jokes. I hope you leave me oodles of comments. I hope you smile when you read my story, but I hope it could potentially have the power to make you cry. I hope you can relate to my story, just like I do. Enjoy.))

"So—are you going Hermione?"

Hermione looked up from where she was neatly folding her clothes and placing them in her trunk. It was the end of Sixth year, and everyone was getting ready for the summer holidays. Hermione had been expecting to go home—but then she got a letter from her mother saying that since her Father had passed away last year, her mother was going to live with Hermione's grandparents in America—in a little town called Hackensack, Arkansas. Hermione hated her mother's family. They were all stuck-up, snobby, and hated anything out of the ordinary—including Hermione, since she was a witch. They reminded her of the Dursleys—Harry's uncle, aunt, and cousin—and made her shudder every time she thought of them. Her mother had invited her to join, but Hermione had politely declined, and arranged to meet her mother in London in one day in June when her mother came to visit. She hadn't shared the news with Ron and Harry yet, and was still trying to figure out a place she could stay.

"No, I'm not. I don't know where I'm going to stay, but I'm sure not going to Arkansas."

She didn't even look up as she folded a white school blouse and placed it into her trunk. She picked up a blue skirt and was folding it when she heard Ron cross the room and kneel down next to her. He took the skirt away from Hermione and held her small hands in his.

"Come live with my family and me. It'll be great—Harry's coming too. I already asked my parents and they said it'd be fine and Mum seemed kind of excited about it actually."

"Ron…" Hermione looked at her hands, which were trapped in Ron's. Her hands were so small next to his. He had a deep golden tan, while she was pale from being indoors too much. She looked up at his face—and into his big green eyes. Over the last few years, Ron Weasley had certainly gotten very attractive. His hair was still red, but it had lost its carrot top color and settled into a more attractive auburn. His eyes were big and green with flecks of gold scattered around in them, and his lashes were long and full. His freckles still were scattered across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose—they were the only thing Ron was still sensitive about. His arms were fit and well-built, and on the days Hermione accidentally walked in on the boys when they didn't have shirts on, his chest was muscular and toned. She flushed as she returned her gaze to his face and smiled.

"Ron—I can't, I don't want to impose on your family." Hermione knew that wasn't the reason. For all the nights Hermione spent awake, tossing and turning at night, she knew the reason was completely different. For all his charm and gorgeousness, and love for her even, Hermione knew she would never be in love with Ron. She never could—she wanted something more. Something she and Ron would never have. Ron shook his head at her reply.

"No, you're coming. If you don't, Mum will be broken hearted. Come Hermione—you need to be with people who love you." Hermione's tore her eyes away from Ron's, they looked like they were about to explode from emotion, and nodded her head.

"Okay," she whispered, "I'll come."

"Goodbye! Bye Lav! Bye Dean! C'mon Ginny!"

Hermione waved from Platform 9 ¾. She watched as they all got in their cars,and drove away, waving, or as they flooed home. When everyone was gone, she turned to Ron and Harry, who were waiting for her by the barrier.

"C'mon Hermione!" Harry and Ron called, laughing, as she sluggishly walked towards them. She grinned and quickened her pace, skipping the last few steps until she came to a dead halt in front of the two 17 year olds.

"All right already!" She laughed as she swung her book bag higher up on her shoulder. She tapped Ron on the shoulder and wined, "I'm tired—I need a ride." He laughed as he bent his knees and prepared for her to jump on his back. She hopped on and the three—well, two because Hermione was on Ron's back, and Harry was by himself—ran through the barrier together.

"Harry! Ron! Hermione!"

The minute they got through the barrier, Mrs. Weasley jumped on them. She threw her arms around Ron, kissing him noisily on both cheeks, and asked him how he was.

"You look pale," She said, "Probably from studying too much indoors." Ron threw a look over at Harry and both boys grinned and snickered as she moved past Ron towards Harry. "How are you dear—you're too thin—but don't worry, I'll feed you up." She patted him on both cheeks, and then turned to Hermione. While the boys joined Mr. Weasley and Fred and George, Mrs. Weasley put a strong arm—the arm of a woman who worked for her family—around Hermione's shoulders and pulled her into a huge hug.

"How are you dear? Are you alright? Ron told me about your father, and mother moving, and, oh, I'm so sorry." She hugged her again, and Hermione forced a smile.

"I'm fine Mrs. Weasley. Thank you for letting me stay here this summer; you don't know how much it means to me."

"It's a delight having you Hermione. You know I think of you as my own daughter." Mrs. Weasley gave Hermione an expectant smile and sighed happily. Hermione was tired of everyone assuming she was going to marry Ron and become a Weasley. Just like everyone expected Ginny to marry Harry, everyone expected Hermione to marry Ron. It made Hermione so depressed sometimes—she'd just want to curl up and cry. She knew she'd never love Ron in that way—he was just her best friend—a chum—a mate. She was about to speak up about it when Ginny popped up out of no where and hugged her.

"Seamus asked me to meet his father this summer!" Ginny squealed into Hermione's ear. She linked her arm through Hermione's and smiled contentedly. "He's so sweet Hermione!" Ginny, almost 16, and Seamus, barely 17, had been dating for almost a year. There was no doubt that Ginny was head over heels in love with him, but Hermione still wondered if it would work out at such a young age.

"That's wonderful Gin…just great." Hermione was lost off in her own world as Ginny rattled on about the 'wonders of Seamus'. Sometimes she felt so guilty about Ron; other times she got downright mad; other times—she just wanted to marry him and get all the expectations off her shoulders. The older she got, and the more she had to deal with Ron…the more she thought she might want to marry him and move on. The more she—

"Hermione!" A hand waved in front of her face and snapped its fingers twice. She blinked and shook off her dazed expression.

"Huh--?" She mumbled. Fred grinned down at her.