Twenty-two year old Hermione Granger hoisted her black bag over her
shoulder as she prepared to leave for work. She smiled as she looked out
the window of her stylish London flat. Four stories below, her five-year
old son Oscar was boarding the muggle school bus with the other children of
the aparement block. Hermione turned away from the window to smile at the
picture of Oscar she kept in her room instead. He smiled back with his
tradmark mischevious grin, his light-brown eyes twinkiling as much as they
were able to in a muggle photograph.
Hermione's thoughts stayed on her son as she scurried around the room, tossing various items in her bag. She had been ridiculed by her wizard friends when she announced that she would be enrolling Oscar in a muggle school until he was old enough to attend Hogwarts, but she was a firm believer that a first-hand knowledge of muggle ways was invaluable asset to any wizard, whether in a professional career or in everyday life. It was better to get him accquainted with the other half of the world while he was still young and free from all the misconceptions magical folk carried about muggles.
A quick glance at the clock on the wall reminded Hermione that she was on a schedule, and she quickly grabbed her lipstick off her nightstand and disapperated, appearing nearly instantaneously in her office at Gringotts. "Good morning, Ms. Granger," her blonde secretary Jessica called from outside her door. Hermione merely waved back in response, her head already buried in the towers of paper littering her desk. Hermione had joined Gringotts bank two years ago, and with her head for numbers she had quickly ascended to the head of the Treasure-Hunting Department. All the treasures collected by employees like Bill Weasley were submitted to her to be allocated into their appropiate places. Sometimes all the paperwork got extremely boring and she longed for the excitement of an aurora's career, like Ron and Harry, but this was a well-paying job and with a son to support, she couldn't go running around sticking her head in every dangerous situation that came along without a thought for anyone else.
She labored over the piles of paper, finally managing to assemble them into a slightly more organized system a little before noon. She was about to take her lunch break when someone knocked on her door. She looked up and smiled, recognizing the familiar lanky figure that filled the threshold. "Ron, I thought we agreed to meet at the resturant," she said as she shoved the remaining papers into a drawer.
"Yeah, well I finished a bit early today so I thought I'd come over and escort you," he answered, standing up straight and stuffing his hands into his pockets. His clear blue eyes raked over her and suddenly she became very aware of her appearance – wrinkled robes, ink on her hands and not a bit of makeup.
"Translation: I dumped all the work on Harry and snuck out early when the rumbling of the bottomless canyon that is my stomach became too loud for me to ignore," Hermione said as she pulled her black robes off her shoulders, revealing the simple skirt and blouse she wore underneath. "Accio Lipstick!" she said, holding out her left hand as she simeltaneously tossed her robes onto the top of one of her many magically-compacted (thank god) file cabinets.
Ron laughed as she quickly put on her lipstick and headed for the door. "You know me too well," he said as they strolled out onto Diagon Ally. "You're wrong about me sneaking out, though; Harry sent me off because my stomach was too loud for me OR him to ignore." A faint smile touched Hermione's lips as she thought of Harry. "How's he doing, anyway?" Hermione asked. Between her job and son and Harry's workaholic schedule, they rarely had time to see each other anymore.
"He's doing ok," Ron answered absentmidly. "Busy as usual, you know. We literally have thousands and thousands of wizards to check out now that Voldermort is gone. Just the same-old same-old; who's really evil and who was bewitched, who were in Voldermort's inner circle, blah blah blah. They're definatly out there, but I don't think they'll try to make a comback right now. They're too disorientated at the moment. The way Harry's working, though, you would think that they had somehow raised Voldermort back from the dead."
Hermione nodded in understanding. Ever since Voldermort's return to power at the end of their fourth year at Hogworts, Harry had been at the center of the group trying to combat him. After a long and ardorous battle, the Dark Lord had finally been killed; however, he left many of his followers behind, and it was only a matter of time before one of them stepped up to take his place…
Hermione was jerked out of her thoughts as Ron pulled her towards the restraunt. "Good thing we have reservations," he remarked as they passed a long queue of wizards. "Tsk tsk," he added. "They should have known that they wouldn't be able to get in her during lunch time without a reservation." The resturant Ron had chosen, The Other Side, was new to Diagon Ally. It was, however, enjoying immense popularity with wizards because instead of 'traditional' restraunts where the food would magically appear in front of you, The Other Side was run exactly as a muggle restuarnt would. For pure-blood wizards, it was like a trip to the zoo where they fed you.
Hermione didn't see the fun in it.
Ron and Hermione reached their tables and ordered their food. "So, how has my favorite godson been faring?" Ron asked, idly twirling his knife on the red-and-white checked tablecloth.
"Okay," answered Hermione trying to subtly untangle her hair with her fingers. Magic or muggle, there was no hair product that could make her hair behave the way she wanted. "He loves testing out his powers, waving his arms and muttering nonsense. Sometimes something happens, sometimes nothing does. I have to keep telling him that he can do whatever he wants at home, but at school he has to pretend that he's normal. I know it's a hard concept for a five-year-old to grasp, but he seems to be doing okay. At least, all the trouble he's gotten in at school hasn't been magic- related."
Ron grinned. "He's been throwing finger-paints and refusing to sleep at nap time, huh?"
Hermione laughed. "Pretty much. He can be such a handful at times! I really admire your mother, rasing all seven of you…"
"She did have our father to help her out, you know," said Ron smiling. Suddenly, he grew serious. "That's what Oscar needs. A father. A male figure he can relate to, and not just his godfather." Hermione sighed. Not this conversation again, she thought. "Please, Ron, don't bring this up again," she pleaded.
"Why not?" he insisted. He pushed the knife aside and leaned across the table, taking her hands in his. "Its been five years, Hermione, I think I deserve to know. You asked me to be patient, and I have been. My family and I supported you when your parents kicked you out after graduation. I've helped you out in every way I could. Just tell me who the father is." Hermione shook her head robotically. "I can't, I can't…"
"You can, Hermione. At least tell me so I can track him down and kick his ass for leaving you."
"No!" Hermione said forcefully, pulling her hands from his and sitting up. Some people around the restraunt looked up. "It wasn't like that at all! You think I loved Oscar's father? I didn't! I'm glad he's gone! He's better out of our lives."
Ron glanced around the room and threw death glares at the people watching them. Good thing there was no such thing as a Death Glare Curse – Ron would have perfected it by now and half the wizarding population would be worse off for it. "What happened, then, Hermione?" he whispered as the othe customers turned back to their food. "You never even told me the circumstances in which – you know – happened." He suddenly paled a little and his eyes grew wider. "Oh my god – you weren't raped, were you? Who was it? Was it one of the teachers at school? Holy – it was Snape, wasn't it?" He jumped up from his chair, loorink murderous.
"Ron, you idiot, sit down," Hermione hissed, trying to grab him and pull him back into his seat. The entire resturant, staff included, were staring at them now. "What have you been doing, watching muggle soaps or something? Of course I would have said something by now if something like that had happened!"
"Well, if it wasn't that, then what is it?" Ron retorted angrily, finally sitting down in his seat. At that exact moment, a slightly scared-looking waitress came and handed them their food, saying nothing and leaving quickly. Hermione gave a quiet sigh of relief. "Just eat your food, okay Ron?" she said. She picked up her fork and started to eat and, after staring at her angrily for a few moments, started to eat as well.
********
"See you tommorow, Jessica," Hermione called to her secretary as she closed her office door. She glanced at her clock on the wall. Three-thirty. Oscar would be home from his friend's house at four. She shouldn't be leaving early as there was still tons of work to be done, but that afternoon's conversation with Ron had left her in no frame of mind to work. She might as well go home and try to sort out her thoughts before Oscar arrived. She childishly made a face at the papers on her desk that had just arrived that afternoon – therefore missing the morning's sorting – before disapperating.
At home, she carelessly dropped her bag onto the floor and flopped onto her small, yet comfortable bed. Around her room, muggle photos of meaningless people smiled blankly at her from their places on the peach walls. These non-existant people were her family, as far as the nosey people who lived on her floor knew. Hermione let out a sigh and rummed at her closed eyes. The only true family she had were Oscar, Harry, and the Weasleys.
"Crookshanks!" she called, not moving from her place on the bed. "Where are you, sweetie?" After a long and tiring day, there was nothing Hermione liked better than to have Crookshanks curl up beside her, an ever-present comfort.
She heard a purr from the doorway. "Here he is," a voice said. Her eyes flew open and she sat up. It was Ron, holding a contended Crookshanks in his arms. "I hope you don't mind, I've been here fo awhile," he said, setting the cat on the floor, where he ran to her. "I was thinking about what I said today, and it really wasn't fair of me to pressure you to tell me like that, like you owed me for everything I've done for you or something. I know you'll tell me when – if – you're ready."
He turned away from her gaze and looked at the floor, embaressed. Hermione smiled. She got up from the bed and walked towards him. "Thanks, Ron," she said softly. She put out her arms and he gave her a hug. "I just need some time, that's all. I want to tell you, I really do, especially after all that you and your family have done for me, but it – it's just…complicated," she finished lamely. She felt Ron's chin resting on her head, his hands absently stroking her back. I could stay like this forever, she thought, as she closed her eyes and sighed, listening to his heart beat under her ear. Ron stopped rubbing her back and lifted one hand to tilt her chin up so that she was facing him.
"I know," he whispered. "I'm just looking out for you." He brought his mouth down to hers and she felt his warm lips on her own. She smiled slightly, allowing his tounge access to her mouth. Slowly, his tounge entwined with hers as his kiss deepened. She moved her hands to the back of his neck pressed his face to hers. He moaned and suddenly turned her around, so he had her pressed against the wall. He removed his lips from her mouth and she was about to protest until she felt them against her neck. "I love you, Hermione," he murmered against her skin. "You know I do." He began to suck gently on her neck and she caught her breath. He began to suck harder, and she groaned, nearly collasping in his arms.
"You like that, huh?" he asked teasingly, lifting his head up to meet her gaze. She managed to collect her thoughts enough to smile back at him. She watched as his expression slowly turned serious. "Why won't you agree to marry me, Hermione?" he asked softly, letting his fingers run through her hair. "You know I'd take care of you, and as Oscar's godfather I'm practically his father anyway. I know you care about me too," he said. Hermione smiled sadly as tears came to her eyes. She looked at the ground, furiously trying to blink them away before he saw. Too late. Ron saw everything about her. She looked up at him as the last tear fell from her eye. "Oscar will be home quickly," she said quietly, "and you'd better get back to work. Harry will be thinking you've been kidnapped."
Ron let his arms drop to his side and nodded. She sensed he was disappointed at her lack of an answer, but he didn't seem surprised. "You're right," he said. "Say hi to Oscar for me, okay? I'll be in touch." With that he disapperated.
More tears came to Hermione's eyes as she was left staring at the empty space which had only seconds ago been occupied by Ron. "It's because I don't deserve you, Ron," she whispered into nothing, giving up the answer he'd been waiting to hear to the unfeeling walls of her room.
Hermione's thoughts stayed on her son as she scurried around the room, tossing various items in her bag. She had been ridiculed by her wizard friends when she announced that she would be enrolling Oscar in a muggle school until he was old enough to attend Hogwarts, but she was a firm believer that a first-hand knowledge of muggle ways was invaluable asset to any wizard, whether in a professional career or in everyday life. It was better to get him accquainted with the other half of the world while he was still young and free from all the misconceptions magical folk carried about muggles.
A quick glance at the clock on the wall reminded Hermione that she was on a schedule, and she quickly grabbed her lipstick off her nightstand and disapperated, appearing nearly instantaneously in her office at Gringotts. "Good morning, Ms. Granger," her blonde secretary Jessica called from outside her door. Hermione merely waved back in response, her head already buried in the towers of paper littering her desk. Hermione had joined Gringotts bank two years ago, and with her head for numbers she had quickly ascended to the head of the Treasure-Hunting Department. All the treasures collected by employees like Bill Weasley were submitted to her to be allocated into their appropiate places. Sometimes all the paperwork got extremely boring and she longed for the excitement of an aurora's career, like Ron and Harry, but this was a well-paying job and with a son to support, she couldn't go running around sticking her head in every dangerous situation that came along without a thought for anyone else.
She labored over the piles of paper, finally managing to assemble them into a slightly more organized system a little before noon. She was about to take her lunch break when someone knocked on her door. She looked up and smiled, recognizing the familiar lanky figure that filled the threshold. "Ron, I thought we agreed to meet at the resturant," she said as she shoved the remaining papers into a drawer.
"Yeah, well I finished a bit early today so I thought I'd come over and escort you," he answered, standing up straight and stuffing his hands into his pockets. His clear blue eyes raked over her and suddenly she became very aware of her appearance – wrinkled robes, ink on her hands and not a bit of makeup.
"Translation: I dumped all the work on Harry and snuck out early when the rumbling of the bottomless canyon that is my stomach became too loud for me to ignore," Hermione said as she pulled her black robes off her shoulders, revealing the simple skirt and blouse she wore underneath. "Accio Lipstick!" she said, holding out her left hand as she simeltaneously tossed her robes onto the top of one of her many magically-compacted (thank god) file cabinets.
Ron laughed as she quickly put on her lipstick and headed for the door. "You know me too well," he said as they strolled out onto Diagon Ally. "You're wrong about me sneaking out, though; Harry sent me off because my stomach was too loud for me OR him to ignore." A faint smile touched Hermione's lips as she thought of Harry. "How's he doing, anyway?" Hermione asked. Between her job and son and Harry's workaholic schedule, they rarely had time to see each other anymore.
"He's doing ok," Ron answered absentmidly. "Busy as usual, you know. We literally have thousands and thousands of wizards to check out now that Voldermort is gone. Just the same-old same-old; who's really evil and who was bewitched, who were in Voldermort's inner circle, blah blah blah. They're definatly out there, but I don't think they'll try to make a comback right now. They're too disorientated at the moment. The way Harry's working, though, you would think that they had somehow raised Voldermort back from the dead."
Hermione nodded in understanding. Ever since Voldermort's return to power at the end of their fourth year at Hogworts, Harry had been at the center of the group trying to combat him. After a long and ardorous battle, the Dark Lord had finally been killed; however, he left many of his followers behind, and it was only a matter of time before one of them stepped up to take his place…
Hermione was jerked out of her thoughts as Ron pulled her towards the restraunt. "Good thing we have reservations," he remarked as they passed a long queue of wizards. "Tsk tsk," he added. "They should have known that they wouldn't be able to get in her during lunch time without a reservation." The resturant Ron had chosen, The Other Side, was new to Diagon Ally. It was, however, enjoying immense popularity with wizards because instead of 'traditional' restraunts where the food would magically appear in front of you, The Other Side was run exactly as a muggle restuarnt would. For pure-blood wizards, it was like a trip to the zoo where they fed you.
Hermione didn't see the fun in it.
Ron and Hermione reached their tables and ordered their food. "So, how has my favorite godson been faring?" Ron asked, idly twirling his knife on the red-and-white checked tablecloth.
"Okay," answered Hermione trying to subtly untangle her hair with her fingers. Magic or muggle, there was no hair product that could make her hair behave the way she wanted. "He loves testing out his powers, waving his arms and muttering nonsense. Sometimes something happens, sometimes nothing does. I have to keep telling him that he can do whatever he wants at home, but at school he has to pretend that he's normal. I know it's a hard concept for a five-year-old to grasp, but he seems to be doing okay. At least, all the trouble he's gotten in at school hasn't been magic- related."
Ron grinned. "He's been throwing finger-paints and refusing to sleep at nap time, huh?"
Hermione laughed. "Pretty much. He can be such a handful at times! I really admire your mother, rasing all seven of you…"
"She did have our father to help her out, you know," said Ron smiling. Suddenly, he grew serious. "That's what Oscar needs. A father. A male figure he can relate to, and not just his godfather." Hermione sighed. Not this conversation again, she thought. "Please, Ron, don't bring this up again," she pleaded.
"Why not?" he insisted. He pushed the knife aside and leaned across the table, taking her hands in his. "Its been five years, Hermione, I think I deserve to know. You asked me to be patient, and I have been. My family and I supported you when your parents kicked you out after graduation. I've helped you out in every way I could. Just tell me who the father is." Hermione shook her head robotically. "I can't, I can't…"
"You can, Hermione. At least tell me so I can track him down and kick his ass for leaving you."
"No!" Hermione said forcefully, pulling her hands from his and sitting up. Some people around the restraunt looked up. "It wasn't like that at all! You think I loved Oscar's father? I didn't! I'm glad he's gone! He's better out of our lives."
Ron glanced around the room and threw death glares at the people watching them. Good thing there was no such thing as a Death Glare Curse – Ron would have perfected it by now and half the wizarding population would be worse off for it. "What happened, then, Hermione?" he whispered as the othe customers turned back to their food. "You never even told me the circumstances in which – you know – happened." He suddenly paled a little and his eyes grew wider. "Oh my god – you weren't raped, were you? Who was it? Was it one of the teachers at school? Holy – it was Snape, wasn't it?" He jumped up from his chair, loorink murderous.
"Ron, you idiot, sit down," Hermione hissed, trying to grab him and pull him back into his seat. The entire resturant, staff included, were staring at them now. "What have you been doing, watching muggle soaps or something? Of course I would have said something by now if something like that had happened!"
"Well, if it wasn't that, then what is it?" Ron retorted angrily, finally sitting down in his seat. At that exact moment, a slightly scared-looking waitress came and handed them their food, saying nothing and leaving quickly. Hermione gave a quiet sigh of relief. "Just eat your food, okay Ron?" she said. She picked up her fork and started to eat and, after staring at her angrily for a few moments, started to eat as well.
********
"See you tommorow, Jessica," Hermione called to her secretary as she closed her office door. She glanced at her clock on the wall. Three-thirty. Oscar would be home from his friend's house at four. She shouldn't be leaving early as there was still tons of work to be done, but that afternoon's conversation with Ron had left her in no frame of mind to work. She might as well go home and try to sort out her thoughts before Oscar arrived. She childishly made a face at the papers on her desk that had just arrived that afternoon – therefore missing the morning's sorting – before disapperating.
At home, she carelessly dropped her bag onto the floor and flopped onto her small, yet comfortable bed. Around her room, muggle photos of meaningless people smiled blankly at her from their places on the peach walls. These non-existant people were her family, as far as the nosey people who lived on her floor knew. Hermione let out a sigh and rummed at her closed eyes. The only true family she had were Oscar, Harry, and the Weasleys.
"Crookshanks!" she called, not moving from her place on the bed. "Where are you, sweetie?" After a long and tiring day, there was nothing Hermione liked better than to have Crookshanks curl up beside her, an ever-present comfort.
She heard a purr from the doorway. "Here he is," a voice said. Her eyes flew open and she sat up. It was Ron, holding a contended Crookshanks in his arms. "I hope you don't mind, I've been here fo awhile," he said, setting the cat on the floor, where he ran to her. "I was thinking about what I said today, and it really wasn't fair of me to pressure you to tell me like that, like you owed me for everything I've done for you or something. I know you'll tell me when – if – you're ready."
He turned away from her gaze and looked at the floor, embaressed. Hermione smiled. She got up from the bed and walked towards him. "Thanks, Ron," she said softly. She put out her arms and he gave her a hug. "I just need some time, that's all. I want to tell you, I really do, especially after all that you and your family have done for me, but it – it's just…complicated," she finished lamely. She felt Ron's chin resting on her head, his hands absently stroking her back. I could stay like this forever, she thought, as she closed her eyes and sighed, listening to his heart beat under her ear. Ron stopped rubbing her back and lifted one hand to tilt her chin up so that she was facing him.
"I know," he whispered. "I'm just looking out for you." He brought his mouth down to hers and she felt his warm lips on her own. She smiled slightly, allowing his tounge access to her mouth. Slowly, his tounge entwined with hers as his kiss deepened. She moved her hands to the back of his neck pressed his face to hers. He moaned and suddenly turned her around, so he had her pressed against the wall. He removed his lips from her mouth and she was about to protest until she felt them against her neck. "I love you, Hermione," he murmered against her skin. "You know I do." He began to suck gently on her neck and she caught her breath. He began to suck harder, and she groaned, nearly collasping in his arms.
"You like that, huh?" he asked teasingly, lifting his head up to meet her gaze. She managed to collect her thoughts enough to smile back at him. She watched as his expression slowly turned serious. "Why won't you agree to marry me, Hermione?" he asked softly, letting his fingers run through her hair. "You know I'd take care of you, and as Oscar's godfather I'm practically his father anyway. I know you care about me too," he said. Hermione smiled sadly as tears came to her eyes. She looked at the ground, furiously trying to blink them away before he saw. Too late. Ron saw everything about her. She looked up at him as the last tear fell from her eye. "Oscar will be home quickly," she said quietly, "and you'd better get back to work. Harry will be thinking you've been kidnapped."
Ron let his arms drop to his side and nodded. She sensed he was disappointed at her lack of an answer, but he didn't seem surprised. "You're right," he said. "Say hi to Oscar for me, okay? I'll be in touch." With that he disapperated.
More tears came to Hermione's eyes as she was left staring at the empty space which had only seconds ago been occupied by Ron. "It's because I don't deserve you, Ron," she whispered into nothing, giving up the answer he'd been waiting to hear to the unfeeling walls of her room.