Chapter 1 – Looking Back
Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter, the characters, or anything dealing with it, it all belongs to the amazing J.K. Rowling. Only the plot is mine.
Hermione Granger was at peace at last.
It was here, surrounded by the newly landscaped garden that she finally felt safe, safe from both physical and emotional harm. The small house she'd bought only a little over a year ago was now finally starting to feel like home. When she had first moved to California, she had felt so isolated and alone, but at the time she had felt that it was really the only option that she had. Here, the wizarding community had appealed to her, both because of their love of the muggle way of life, and because of the simplicity of life. Though the witches and wizards here had heard about the war going on in Britain, they'd never really understood the 'Pureblood vs. Muggle' mentality. And that was just fine with her.
As she sat on the wrought iron park bench she found at the small muggle antique shop in Cambria, she looked around at her new, absolutely amazing garden. She'd really just wanted to do the landscaping project so she could have a place she could go to, to forget the craziness of the past twelve years. The ivy covered stonewalls surrounding her backyard complemented the green velvet-textured foliage contrasted with flowers in reds, deep purples and orange. The magenta bougainvillea plants had been planted by the previous owner but they had been allowed to grow on the ground unrestrictedly. Shane and Michelle, the wonderful husband and wife landscaping team Hermione hired, were able weave the plants through some lattice creating a beautiful floral barrier from the rest of the world. There was a stone path leading from the French doors to a small clearing, surrounded by tall grasses and hydrangeas, where her park bench and granite topped bistro set were set up. This was where she sat now, with a cup of tea and a list of the new titles arriving at the library on Monday.
The ocean breeze and the light mist rolling in from the west reminded Hermione of home. She sat down and brought her knees up to her chest, glad that she was wearing a jogging suit and not a skirt. She flicked off her flip-flops and immediately stretched out her legs, her thoughts so far away that she didn't notice her brown hair swirling gently around her face. Though she was trying, she was being completely unsuccessful at concentrating on the work she had brought home for the weekend. If her friends back home could only see her now, they would more than likely find it hard to come to terms with the fact that she now lived such a quiet and peaceful lifestyle.
It had been five long years since the final battle, and as Hermione sat in her garden, she reflected on the price of her newfound peace. After the war, it had been embarrassingly easy for Hermione to attain a high profile job as an Auror. The ministry had been eager to hire Harry, Ron and herself. It seemed as if they had not even had the time to heal from the battle wounds they in the final battle, before they were whisked away by the ministry, recruited to help bring in the remaining Death Eaters and their accomplices.
At the time, all three of them jumped at the chance to do anything to keep busy, eager to do anything to avoid dealing with the fact that they had lost so many. They had just wanted to forget about all of the deaths. It was something that affected all of them, something that they would never be able to get over – that they knew they'd never be able to get over. She used to believe that she and Ron would be together forever, and that having each other would help them get over whatever it was that stayed with them after the war. Looking back now, however, Hermione understood that everything they had gone through together, all of the horrors that they had shared had, well, all but made a "happily ever after" impossible. Then, after they had broken up, she had been absolutely positive that she would never ever love again, but somehow, fate had swooped in and proved that it had something else in store for her, a twist to her life that she would have never imagined. She had found a love greater that she had ever dreamed of, greater than anything in the entire world.
Hermione realised that many people went through their whole lives never knowing love, and she knew that she was incredibly fortunate, because she had loved and been loved twice by two extraordinary men. The ache in her in her heart was still there, but after two years she was coming to terms with the fact that, for some reason, she was meant to live her life alone. There were still nights when she would cry into her pillow, bitter tears of a painful heartbreak. She had never known how much she wanted a family of her own until now, but even though she would never be a wife or a mother, she accepted the path her life had taken. Although she loved working in the library, especially when it entailed working with children, her heart would drop to her feet whenever a towheaded boy or girl walked in, always thinking 'what if…' Relaxing in the sun, Hermione absently took a sip of her tea which reminded her forcibly of England.
3 years ago - England
From the second she jumped out of bed that morning, she had gone non-stop. She had rummaged around in her wardrobe for something – anything – to wear. She had pulled out some trousers, but tripped a little on the tapering of the leg, and found a lovely shirt to wear over that tan coloured top her mother had sent over last week. She had quickly tied her hair back, and then looked at her reflection in the mirror, trying to decide if she should bother with make-up or not. Deciding it really wasn't worth the hassle, and besides, she was going to be late as it was, she picked up her most comfortable pair of shoes by her bedroom door, shoved them on, and then sprinted for the door, grabbing her cloak, wand and an apple for breakfast on her way out.
It was five past eight that morning when Hermione rushed into Kinsley Shacklebolt's office at the ministry, to see that Ron and Harry were already there. As she silently mouthed "good morning" to them, Harry looked up and smiled, but Ron, however, merely ran his hand through his gorgeous ginger coloured hair, not quite looking at her at all. The morning debriefing with Shacklebolt about the raid on the Crankston Estate and the dark magic items that had been seized the previous night had been like any other meeting, aside for when it came time for Hermione to speak. She was dreading her turn because she knew she had to recount the fact that she had narrowly avoided being killed. At first glance, the dainty, jewel encrusted dagger appeared harmless enough, but as soon as she had picked it up off the desk, her hand had turned on its own accord and had it not been for Ron's casting the Petrificus Totalus on her, she would have plunged the blade into her own heart. The only indication that that Hermione had that Ron was even listening to her account of the incident was the clenching and unclenching of his jaw. Ron, Harry and Hermione gave their account of the events and were dismissed. After the meeting Harry and Ron waited for Hermione in the corridor.
"Hey, Hermione," grinned Harry. "It's good to see that you've decided to join us today."
"I know, Harry," Hermione said embarrassedly. "I'm really sorry, I just couldn't sleep last night, and then I didn't wake up this morning, it was awful." She turned to Ron and lowered her voice. "Iwaited up for you last night?"
Ron pulled on his tie uncomfortably and looked at Harry. Harry quickly swivelled his head around in the opposite direction, and then turned back to them, looking awkward. He looked as though he was trying desperately to come up with an excuse.
"Er, it's okay, don't worry about it. Er, look, I'm going to go to the holding room to get er, get ready for Mrs. Anglis. I'll see you there – Kingsley said you'd be sitting in for the questioning."
"Yeah," Hermione said distractedly, looking at Ron in confusion. "Yeah, okay, I'll be there in a second."
Hermione waited for Harry to walk away, before checking that the corridor was completely empty, and then walking back over to face her boyfriend. "Ron, you were gone when I woke up this morning. Why didn't you wake me last night or this morning before you left?" she asked softly, reaching for the front of his robes to pull him closer. She loved the smell of his cologne and wanted nothing more than a kiss from him. Unfortunately, Ron seemed too preoccupied to notice.
Ron looked at her for the first time that morning, his eyes full of indecision and sadness, "I know, Hermione," he said so quietly, she could barely hear him. "You looked so peaceful that I didn't have the heart to wake you last night and I left early this morning for a meeting with Percy. I should have woken you but I had a lot of things on my mind. Things that I've been trying to sort for a long time."
"Ron, what is it?" she asked. "What's going on?"
Again, he was unable to meet her eyes. "Look," he said as he took a few steps backwards, looking more than a little panicked, "I have another meeting with Percy in a few minutes, and we both know how he can be if I'm late. Look, there's…I erm… I just need to talk to you, why don't I meet you at the pub at six thirty tonight and we can talk then?" And with a ghost of a smile that said, 'please drop it until later', he turned and walked away.
The interrogation of Gloria Anglis regarding the mysterious disappearance of her husband Reginald exhausted Hermione and frustrated Harry. Reginald had previously been employed by the ministry in the Department of Muggle Protection, but the ministry had now begun to suspect Reginald of handing muggles over to the Death Eaters during the war. Mrs. Anglis refused to say anything his whereabouts, only telling them that he had been under the imperius curse and was now hiding from the ministry and any remaining Death Eaters.
The rest of Hermione's day was crammed with following dead leads on the whereabouts of Anglis and a lot of paperwork. Several times she caught herself staring at nothing, trying to work out for herself what it was that was bothering Ron. She knew that things were a little tense with them lately, but she couldn't put her finger on what was causing it.
They had fancied each other since their fourth year at Hogwarts and if he had not been so utterly inept at demonstrating his feelings, they would have been together since then. Unfortunately Ron didn't have a clue. They didn't admit to anything until the very night Voldemort was defeated at Hogwarts. The memory of that night was still vivid in Hermione's mind.
The chilling fear that had gripped her from the moment Harry, Ron and her began their quest for the horcruxes had intensified to an almost crippling point. The Dark Lord and his minions were attacking the school. Everything was a blur from then on, the trip to the Chamber of Secrets to retrieve the basilisk fangs, students being evacuated, teachers and members of the Order of the Phoenix preparing to take a stand. There was chaos all around, and suddenly there was a moment when the fear of dying without ever acting on the love she felt was all that mattered to Hermione. When Ron had begun to fret about the house-elves, it was if time had stopped. All she could think about was Ron, all that existed was Ron. Not even Voldemort himself could have stopped her from rushing to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him, a kiss they had been building up to for three bloody years. Though Ron was surprised, he only hesitated for a split-second, before pulling her to him as tightly as he could, tilting his head and kissing her with an incredible intensity, that threatened to consume them both. She became so lost within him that she had no idea how long it lasted, but she did know that there, in his arms, she felt absolute happiness, contentment and joy.
Now, sitting at her desk she thought about the changes the past two years had wrought on them. They had gone from being teenagers to adults in hurry. She remembered their first big argument a week after 'the kiss'.
They'd been at Ron's parent's home in the burrow having just come home from Fred's funeral. Ron, Harry, Ginny, Bill, Fleur, and Hermione were all at the table quietly talking about all the good times they'd had with Fred. George was sitting at the table, but his mind was somewhere else. The look in his eyes could be compared to that of a lost puppy. Everyone at the table silently worried about his ability to return to his old self with out his best friend by his side. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sitting out on the porch swing, Mr. Weasley's arm around his wife as she rested her tired head on his shoulder, whispering words of comfort only the two of them could hear. Ron looked up at Hermione and asked if she wanted to take a walk in the garden with him.
Dusk was just beginning to fall when Hermione took his hand and walked out the back door. As soon as they'd reached the garden Ron pulled her behind the gnarled old tree. With an urgency that was born out of years of wanting, he placed his hands on her hips and drew her against his body. With his back against the abrasive bark of the tree, he moved a hand up her back to the base of her neck, leaned down and took her mouth into his. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck letting her body meld with his. He suckled her bottom lip, pulling her closer, wanting to eliminate any space between them. He trailed kissed down her neck, savoring the taste of her skin. Her hands moved to his lower back, pulling his shirt out his trousers so she could feel his skin as she rained kisses to his face, his ears and his neck. He shivered and pulling her hair, returned to her mouth. His tongue, granted entry, was met by her own, matching his in a lover's duel. His hands worked their way under her blouse gently massaging her back. It was electric shock that went through Hermione as he pressed his hands to the skin on her lower back that made her pull back. She leaned bowed her head and leaned it on his chest, he rested his chin on the top of her head, too out of breath to speak, their raspy breathing the only sound they made.
"I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair. She didn't say anything, just held him tighter. Pulling back, he bent his head to look into her eyes, "Honestly Hermione, I didn't talk you into coming out here just to sneak in a snogging session."
Hermione's lips curved into a small smile, "Ron, stop, in case you didn't notice, I wasn't exactly fighting you off." With a sheepish grin, he leaned for one last kiss before getting down to the business of telling her why he'd actually wanted to speak to her in private.
Ron placed his hands on her shoulders and with a determined look on his face he began to explain. "Alright then, I've had a talk with my mum, and she said you can stay in Fred and George's old room for now. You know she loves you like a daughter anyway, and you can keep her company while Ginny is away at Hogwarts. We can still see each other when I come home on weekends".
"Ron, what are you talking about?" Hermione asked with a perplexed look on her face. "I can find a place in Diagon Alley, and we'll see each other every day at work."
Ron looked at her fiercely. "No, you aren't working at the ministry Hermione. There is no way I'll allow it."
He really should have been paying more attention to look on Hermione's face. If he had, he'd have noticed the furrowing of her brows and the setting of her jaw.
Hermione pulled away from him. "Sorry?" she asked coolly. "What did you say?"
"There's no need for you to get angry, Hermione," Ron said in a steady voice. "You're just going to have to understand that after all the crap we've been through to get to where we are today, I am not taking any chances on anything happening to you."
Hermione could barely control the shaking in her voice, "No, Ron, you're the one that's going to have to understand, yeah? I'm taking the job at the ministry, and that's really the end of it. Did you honestly believe I would sit here twiddling my thumbs while you were putting your life on the line? Did you honestly believe I would be happy with that?"
The colour on Ron's face suddenly matched his hair. He clenched his jaw, losing the battle with himself to keep his cool. "Damn it Hermione! Why? Why can't you trust me for once? I. Don't. Want. You. Around. Danger. Anymore! Don't you see? The people we're going to go after are absolutely mental! They're bound to be desperate, and desperate Death Eaters are the worst king of Death Eaters, and I don't want you near them!"
Hermione swallowed her retort. If he'd been having this argument with anyone else they would have missed it, but after loving him for so long, she saw it. There in his beautiful eyes was utter fear. She couldn't stop the tears that had gathered in her eyes from falling, and so, taking his face in both her hands she forced him to look at her as she softly said, "I do trust you Ron. Please believe me when I say that there is no one I trust more than you. I know you're scared, I'm scared too, but I can't stay here and do nothing. You know I'm capable of being a good Auror. And I know that as long as you're by my side, no harm can come to me."
As he continued to stare at her, she saw conflicting emotions flashing across his face. After what seemed like an eternity, he exhaled slowly, pulling her close, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. As she wrapped her arms around him, she could feel the tension in his body and knew although she had won this battle; the war was far from over.
Now, two years later, Hermione had an uneasy feeling that things were going to blow up again. She knew that they had to get to the bottom of this. Though she was dreading the meeting later that evening, she knew that things just couldn't continue like they were.