Eternal Sun || Moonrise Sequel || Fanfiction

Chapter Thirty-Four - Hermione's POV

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR:

Hermione's POV:

Alice's expressions kept flickering between excitement and unease as she fidgeted beside me. "Calm down." I whispered, and she shot me a look that clearly stated her annoyance.

"I'm in the sun, in the middle of a street, surrounded by people!" she whispered, "I should be sparkling! But I'm not! I'm actually not!"

To understand her amazement and excitement, I reminded myself that for the past one hundred years, Alice hadn't been able to go in the sun in the presence of humans. Now, with her ring, she could, leaving her to fight her instincts screaming for her to get away from the sun's rays, and to bask in the joy of finally being able to do something she hadn't for decades.

It was our first day in Australia, after arriving in Perth last night, via side-along apparation with Harry. After spending the night at Crown Metrapol, which was probably the most expensive and luxurious hotels in the entire state knowing Alice, where we didn't exactly sleep, per se, but still definitely got our moneys worth out of the bed (and shower, hot tub, desk, wall and sofa) we were making our way towards the home address of Wendell and Monica Wilkins, as found in a yellow pages directory.

The weather was classic Australian weather; windless and warm, the sky without a single cloud, the blue veiled with a haze of light gold.

"I miss your sparkles." I mock-sigh, shaking my head, and she pouts at me before walking ahead. I watch as she sashays casually down the street, her hips swinging as though she's dancing to her own silent beat. Her heels click on the sidewalk as people- men, mostly- eye her appreciatively. Clad in skin-tight denim and eye-catching purple, my Alice looks young and beautiful and oblivious to the attention she's getting.

Compared to her, I feel... much less delicate and beautiful, but just as elegant and eye-catching. The clothes I'm wearing are a more modern type of Wizarding wear, designed for both casual use and for dueling, composed of a blue silk blouse over dark canvas trousers, combined with black high-heeled dragon-hide boots.

"Wait up!" I complain, as I speed up slightly. She turns her head back slightly to poke her tongue out at me, before continuing ahead. I roll my eyes and sigh. At around a hundred years of age, you'd think she'd have more maturity... you'd be wrong.

"Here it is," she announced, stopping outside one of the houses on the street. "116 Stoneham Road, Attadale."

Butterflies flutter around uncomfortably in my stomach as I cover the last few steps so I'm standing next to my mate, then examine the house before us. With the more traditional architecture, I recognize my parents' taste, and the pots canna lily plants, the big pink flowers, wide-open and radiant on bright crimson stems, displayed so proudly, were my mother through and through.

I knew, without even laying eyes on the occupants of the house, that the Wendell and Monica Wilkins inside were Helen and Richard Granger, the couple who raised me.

"Well, mission successful, let's get going!" I say, brightly, turning around, ready to walk back down the way we came. Alice's hand shoots out and fastens around my forearm, spinning me back around so she can give me a stern look.

"You'll regret it later if you don't even take a look, just to make sure," she warns.

"Yes, later- much, much later." I mutter, sullenly. Alice rolls her eyes.

"Come on, drama queen, it won't be that awful."

"Says you," I counter, but I don't resist as she leads the way to the front door of the house, her grip not even loosening slightly.