Chapter One: A Look into the Future
Hermione shivered and pulled her cloak tighter around her. It was cold and getting colder every second.
Part of her would have given almost anything to take two steps to her left, open the door, and go inside… but the other part of her couldn't. She had to wait at least ten more minutes.
Seconds passed to minutes, minutes passed to hours and Hermione was on the brink of collapse before she heard Ginny's voice from the window calling her inside.
"It's going to start snowing any minute, Hermione," she called and Hermione turned to face the window. Ginny was staring out at her, a concerned look in her green eyes. "Merlin knows, the last thing you need is pneumonia…" Hermione felt a flash of red-hot anger, but it subsided.
Letting out a loud sigh, Hermione gazed out at the road for the last time until tomorrow then turned and walked towards the house.
Upon entering she felt an uncomfortable blast of heat that took her by surprise and she felt herself go weak. Her knees buckled underneath her and she felt herself falling, but as always Ginny was there to catch her.
"Mommy, what's wrong with aunt Hermione?"
"Nothing, Amy, go back to bed," Ginny said calmly as she lifted Hermione as far off of the ground as she could. She slowly led Hermione to the couch, which was situated directly in front of the fire and looked her straight in the eyes. "You were out too long today," Ginny said chidingly, placing a wisp of loose hair back behind her ear. "You can't keep exhausting yourself like this."
Hermione looked up at the ceiling, tears filling her eyes as she tried to find the words to say.
"The days just keep getting longer," Hermione said, a single sob escaping her. "They've been gone four months… Not a single letter, not a single word… to anyone…" Hermione paused, trying to gain control. "There have been whispers…"
"There are always whispers, Hermione," Ginny snapped. "And they always come home."
Hermione nodded, but was unable to take true comfort from Ginny's words. Groaning, she rolled over, pressing her face into the couch. The room was filled with muffled sobs and Hermione felt a soft, warm, comforting hand on her shoulder as she slipped into the dark abyss…
"Hermione, wake up…" Ron gently shook her shoulders and her dream ended in an instant. "Hermione, you should go to bed," he murmured and Hermione slowly opened her eyes. Seeing his face, she immediately sat up, hanging her legs over the edge of the couch.
Looking around, she could see she was in the Gryffindor common room on the couch closest to the fire.
"What time is it?" she asked.
Ron looked down at his wristwatch and said, "Almost nine thirty… you should really head to bed, you know. You look utterly exhausted."
"I am exhausted," she replied, rubbing her eyes. A yawn suddenly overtook her and she stretched her hands high in the air, arching her back not at all unlike Crookshanks liked to do on occasion. "But I can't go to bed just yet."
"Why in the bloody hell not?" he asked with a smile. "What could you possibly have to do?"
"Some reading," was Hermione's quick reply.
"Reading what?" Ron asked, most obviously affronted.
Hermione picked a book up from the ground where it had landed after slipping off of her lap and motioned to it.
"Spells, Charms, and Hexes For the Advanced Witch: Special Historical Edition?" he asked. "Is that even for a class?"
"Does every book you ever read have to be for a class, Ronald Weasley?" she asked wearily and he nodded, confirming her worst fear that he had become so very much like Fred and George had been…
"Why bother reading unless it'll help you pass a class?" he asked.
"Do you read your books even then?" he paused to think then shook his head. Hermione laughed aloud, unable to let his carefree attitude irritate her for long.
"Now why don't you put the book away and have a good snog with your dear, simple Ronald Weasley," he suggested and Hermione smacked the side of his head lightly with the book. His hand flew to the "injury" in feigned hurt and Hermione leaned forward concerned and guilty all at once.
"I'm sorry," she apologized." Are you all right?" she asked, pulling his hand away from his head so that she could look at it.
He looked up at her, a wide grin on his face and before she could react, he had ripped the book from her hand and tossed it over his shoulder.
Moving swiftly and surely, Ron brushed his lips across hers as he pulled himself onto one knee and pushed her deeper into the soft cushions. Running his hand softly over her cheek, his hand wrapped around the curve of her neck and moved deeper into her nest of hair, which was piled carelessly atop her head in a sad attempt to keep the mess out of her face.
Hermione smiled as he tenderly bit at her lower lip then brushed his tongue lightly over her teeth.
Taking her smile as a good sign, Ron lifted himself up and pulled one knee, then the other, onto the couch so that he was resting right above her.
"You presume much, Ronald Weasley," Hermione chastised as she pushed him away and sat up. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her blouse and stood. She walked almost drunkenly to the corner where Ron had tossed her book, picked it up, and then walked slowly up the staircase into the girl's dormitories.
A/N: this is my second Harry Potter Fanfic that I have posted on here and I am really excited about where I want it to go. It is in no way based on my other one. I love reviews and I really think that they're the only way for readers AND writers to get what they want out of a story. Bad or good, feedback is very much appreciated!