Ron Weasley sauntered up the Grand Staircase of the school he once attended, occupied in his own thoughts of confusion in light of Albus' recovery. His brown overcoat brushed lightly against the back of his beige work pants with each step up the stairs.
He grew quite melancholy as he recalled his escapades up and down these stairs to get food from the Great Hall when he was younger. As much as he preferred to goof around than complete his homework in his years at Hogwarts, he still missed the excitement and freedom of exploring the magical school with his friends. But that was decades ago, and he was now over 40 with a job and a kid and he had no time to delve into what was.
Me, married to Hermione?, Ron thought in awe, thinking back to Albus' post-injury remark. He couldn't help but gag at the thought. My best friend? Lad barely remembers his own House. Maybe he really did take a hit with a Confundus charm after all.
As he dismissed the thought, Ron's eye catches Hermione on the platform above him, waiting for the staircase to change. His puzzling look changes to an expression of surprise. She stood in a black skirt and a sky blue and bright pink striped sweater that his mum had made for her when she was accepted to teach at Hogwarts. Ron remembered Hermione was hesitant to accept it (she grew a bit bitter as her life went on after Hogwarts, which still troubled him) but she took it for the sake of his mum's wrath. He thought the sweater looked rather uncomfortable and itchy, but she didn't seem to mind. He was glad that she still kept it and wore it. She held a large book that didn't surprise Ron in the slightest.
"Professor Granger" Ron jokingly announced in a professional tone. Hermione looked toward the friendly face with her big brown eyes and gave a small tight-lipped smile. She wouldn't admit it, but her heart leapt a bit at the sight of Ron.
"Ron," she greeted, looking down shyly. "What are you doing here?"
Ron stood beside his old friend.
"Panju got in a little trouble in Potions class. Was showing off, of course, and put the wrong thing with the wrong thing and now he has no eyebrows and a rather large mustache, apparently. Which doesn't suit him. I didn't want to come but Padma says that when it comes to facial growths, sons need their fathers" Ron explains.
Hermione nodded, tugging the left side of her long, wild brown hair behind her ear.
She didn't know why she felt nervous being around Ron, even after all this time. It wasn't like they ever had feelings for each other. At least, he didn't seem to. They had a friendly dance once, and that was it, but Hermione still felt a way that she couldn't quite explain. She sensed that something could have happened between them, but it was far too late for that… Ron had Padma and they seemed happy.
If only there was a book on this, Hermione thought.
Ron noticed that Hermione's hair looked a bit different. It didn't stick out as much as it did the last time he saw her…
"Have you done something with your hair?" he asks.
Hermione awakes from her thoughts. She stumbled for the right words for a moment.
"Just combed it, I suspect" she answers, brushing her hair back again.
Ron had stared at her a little longer than he expected to. He couldn't help but notice the bags under her eyes and the wrinkles on her forehead, but she still looked like the same youthful, clever Hermione that he met during his first year. She looked so much different, yet still so much the same…
Blimey, how time has changed, he thought to himself.
Hermione looks at Ron slightly strangely, noticing his unwavering gaze.
"Ron, will you stop looking at me like that?" she asked, coming off a little more irritable than she liked. She regretted responding that way as soon as the words left her mouth. She hated it when she did that, which was too often for her liking. She couldn't help it. She had no right responding to a friend that way… and she didn't completely mind him looking at her.
Ron breaks his gaze, clearing his throat at the sudden realization. He stumbled briefly for words.
"You know, Harry's boy Albus – said to me the other day that he thought you and I were – married." Ron laughs a bit nervously, questioning whether he should have mentioned this to her as the words left his mouth. His palms grew clammy. "Ridiculous, I know."
Hermione gripped the large hardcover book in her sweating hands a bit harder and laughed shakily at the thought.
"Very ridiculous" Hermione responded with a small smile. She remembered that Albus had brought that up a few days ago as well in her class. How ridiculous, indeed, she told herself.
"He even thought we had a daughter. That'd be strange, wouldn't it?" Ron asked breathily with a nervous smile. Ron once again questioned if he should have mentioned that. He couldn't quite explain why he felt so nervous.
Hermione and Ron lock eyes with each other for a moment, her staring into his piercing blue eyes and him in her soft caramel ones. They both looked a little sad at each other, like they wanted to say more but couldn't find the words, but Hermione broke her gaze before Ron could.
"More than strange" Hermione answered.
Ron laughed to pass the uneasiness. "Exactly. We're – friends, and that's all."
Hermione looked back to him and smiled warmly. "Absolutely. Only – friends."
Ron smiles. "Only – friends. Funny word – friends. Not that funny. Just a word, really. Friends. Friend. Funny friend. You, my funny friend, my Hermione. Not that – not my Hermione, you understand – not MY Hermione – not MINE – you know, but..."
Hermione smiles back, pulling the sleeves of her stitched sweater over her palms. "I know."
There's a pause. Neither of them move the smallest inch. It wasn't an uncomfortable pause, but everything felt too important for movement. Ron then coughs.
"Well. Must get on. Sort Panju out. Teach him the finer arts of mustache grooming" Ron says.
He smiles, waves, and walks up the staircase. He turns halfway to the top and looks back to Hermione. She feels him looking at her and she looks back.
"Your hair really does very much suit you" he finishes, continuing back up the Grand Staircase.
Hermione grinned as she brushed down her hair, her cheeks turning a light shade of red. As a matter of fact, she thought her hair very much suited her as well.
As the moving, gold staircase finally arrived for Hermione Granger to go to her next class, she thought back to what Albus Potter had said before she subtracted 50 points from Gryffindor for his peculiar behavior.
Where's Rose? She'll tell you that you're being ridiculous, he had said.
Who's Rose?, Hermione had asked him. Your invisible friend?
Rose Granger-Weasley! Your daughter! he had answered. Of course – because you and Ron aren't married…
Albus had said that their child was named Rose. She couldn't help but smile at the thought. Rose Granger-Weasley. As much of a fib it was, she quite liked that name.
Perhaps she was a little too harsh on the boy.
Perhaps she'd give Albus Potter back those points.