Somewhere

Chapter One

--

"You coming out for drinks with us?"

Ron looked up from his desk to see his oldest brother Bill.

"No- I should probably finish this paperwork and head home. The wife and I- it's our three year anniversary."

"Have fun with that," Bill winked, giving him a little wave and heading out the door.

Ron sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes. This had been one of his longest days yet as an Auror. He had no idea what Kingsley had been thinking when he'd made him head of the office. He didn't have a bloody clue what to do with all of this responsibility.

Ron's eyes unconsciously wandered to the photo of him, Harry, and Hermione on his desk, right before their fourth year at the Quidditch World Cup, smiling widely, arms around each other.

Harry would know how to do this. This should have been his job.

Refusing to dwell on things he couldn't change, Ron looked away. He added his signature to three more reports, only briefly scanning what he was supposed to be signing off on.

He pulled on his coat and made his way to the fireplaces. The atrium was dark- most everyone had already left. Only a few of the janitorial staff were still hanging around, magicking brooms into hard to reach nooks and crannies.

Ron gave one of them a nod, throwing some Floo Powder into the fireplace and stepping inside, calling out his address and disappearing into a green blaze.

--

He wearily stumbled out of his fireplace at home, and saw a fully prepared table complete with candles, wine, and the flowers he had sent over during the day.

"You're home!" Lavender walked into the living room.

"Yeah, finally." Ron mumbled, kissing her cheek absently and collapsing on the couch.

She sat down beside him, and Ron put his head in her lap, closing his eyes.

"I'm never been so effing tired in my entire life." He moaned.

"You'll feel better once you eat something. I made all of your favorites."

He smiled sleepily, already feeling like she was talking from a long way away.

"Thanks, babe. Just let me rest my eyes for one second."

He was fast asleep in moments.

Lavender sighed, gently placing his head on a pillow and going into the kitchen to see the meal she'd spent four hours preparing growing cold. She pulled at her red dress that she had spent entirely too much money on and that itched terribly.

She sat down, drinking her glass of wine to the sound of Ron's guttural snores.

"Happy anniversary, Ronnie." She raised her glass to his sleeping outline, and downed it.

--

Ron came to work the next day thinking that he vaguely remembered waking up in the middle of the night on the couch and stumbling into bed beside an already-sleeping Lavender.

I'm the worst bloody husband in the world.

He remembered on Fleur and Bill's last anniversary they had gone back to Egypt and stayed at the hotel where they had first met during a Gringott's party. Victoire, their two year old daughter, had stayed home with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and the couple had come back tanned and blissful. Now that was romantic and cool- everything Bill was, and Ron felt he could never be.

Why on earth did Lavender want to be with him? He really didn't understand her. She was way too pretty for him- all of his brothers (and Ginny) had assured him of this. Ron had been a complete mess when he and Lavender had gotten together the second time- he was so depressed and lonely that he really had had no business getting in a relationship with anyone. But she had been there for him.

She had been there when the two people he counted on most had left him. He was lucky to have her. He'd make it up to her today- maybe surprise her at work for lunch or something.

Feeling slightly more cheerful, Ron stepped off the elevator at Level Two and headed to his office.

--

After dropping in on his dad's office across the hall, Ron made his way through the desks of his Auror staff, giving the huge picture of Harry in the main office a small salute, like always.

His secretary, a young Scottish witch named Molly McKracken, walked up to Ron, looking a little frightened.

"Morning, Molly." Ron said, "You all right?"

"Morning, sir. I just- there's someone here to see you, sir. She got here right when I was opening up this morning- nearly scared the life out of me. It was like seeing a ghost."

Ron's brow furrowed. What on earth was Molly talking about?

"Did she have an appointment?"

"No, sir."

"Well, who is it?"

"Hermione Granger, sir."

Ron caught the side of an empty desk, looking like he was about to throw up. When he spoke again, his voice was dangerously quiet.

"Is this some kind of joke, Molly? Because I really don't appreciate it."

"No, sir, of course not! I'm not having you on- Hermione Granger's waiting in your office. I even did a check for enchantments, Polyjuice, anything- she's clean. It's really her."

Ron looked around the office, seeing several people watching he and Molly's conversation with thinly guarded interest. Was this some kind of elaborate office prank? He'd fire them all.

"Very well. Thank you, Molly." Ron said with as much dignity as his shaking knees afforded him, making his way to his large office in the corner.

The blinds were drawn as he had left them last night, but the lights were already on.

Ron thought his heart was going to burst his eardrums as he opened the door.

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the door opening, guiltily dropping the framed picture from the World Cup onto Ron's desk.

"I'd thank you not to break that." Ron said.

"Right, sorry." She said, a smile spreading across her face.

They looked at each other for a moment, taking in all the subtle differences the years had added. Hermione was dressed in a grey business suit, her once-frizzy hair long and straight, and darker than Ron remembered.

"What?" She laughed awkwardly when Ron still hadn't spoken.

He shook his head.

"I don't know- this is just too weird. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again, and now- you're right here. It's mental."

Hermione nodded, flushing slightly.

"I wanted to come back sooner."

Ron didn't reply.

Clearing her throat, she walked around the office, "Head of the Auror Department, then? That's really impressive. I know you always wanted to work here."

"Yeah, it's great. Bit overwhelming."

"I bet."

They stood there in silence for a moment. Ron sighed.

"Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you here? Just thought you'd pop in for a visit?"

Hermione blinked, looking a bit surprised.

"Oh, thank goodness- I thought for sure the story would have gotten leaked."

"What story?" Ron was getting annoyed.

She looked at the door to the office, hearing people whispering and talking right outside.

"Is there somewhere we can go? Somewhere private?"

"Hermione, what is this about?"

Seeming to relent, she stepped closer, lowering her voice.

"It's about Harry. Someone's seen him."

Ron's eyes narrowed. He had barely spoken Harry's name in five years, and now, Hermione being here, and saying that name felt like a knife in his gut, a door opening that he worked so hard to close.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Hermione opened her purse, pulling out a newspaper and handing it to him.

"Australia's version of the Daily Prophet. I've got a friend who works for the paper, and she sent me this. They're putting it to press Friday, but she thought I should hear it first. I felt like I had to show you this. I owe you that, at least."

Ron scanned the article and then flipped it over to see a full-page picture. He dropped the paper to the ground, his hands shaking violently.

"It's a fake." He said, looking up at her furiously.

"It's not, Ron. It's him. I knew the moment I saw it. And I've done every kind of spell I can think of- it hasn't been doctored at all."

She picked it up off the floor, staring at it as she had done countless times before. It had been taken by a wizarding family vacationing in the Outback who were taking pictures of the scenery. Right in the corner of their picture of the Valley of Giants forest, nearly hidden by branches but looking straight at the camera with a face of unmistakable shock was Harry Potter.

"They said they didn't even notice him when they took the picture, but they heard someone Apparate off and thought it was strange that another wizard had seen them and not introduced themselves. They followed the sound, and found a small encampment- tent, food, supplies. And they found this."

She held out Harry's invisibility cloak, the shimmering folds making her arm appear transparent.

"He would never leave that behind." Ron said, shaking his head.

"He'd have been frightened out of his wits, Ron. His only thought must have been apparating away as quickly as possible."

"But-"

Ron stopped himself, backing away from her.

"No. No, this is crazy. Harry Potter's dead. He's been dead for five years."

"You don't believe that." Hermione caught his arm, her grip desperately tight.

"Harry died beating Voldemort, Hermione. We were both there!"

"He didn't die! He disappeared- and we wrote him off, left him good as dead! But he's been alive all this time, Ron- I know it! I've always known it!"

"And he just never tried to find any of us? Just thought he'd run off to Australia for five years for a bit of a laugh?"

"I don't know why he was there, Ron. But I'm going to try to find out."

"Bully for you, then."

"I want you to help me."

"You can forget it. I've got quite enough to handle here without running off on some wild goose chase for some Harry Potter imposter. I've got my own responsibilities, Hermione- I haven't just been sitting on my hands and waiting for you to come back, you know."

Hermione's eyes flashed to his wedding ring. She hadn't said anything about it so far, but Ron imagined she had probably noticed.

He looked up at her defiantly.

"Is there something you want to say?" He demanded.

"Who is it?" She said finally.

"Lavender."

"Of course." Hermione laughed humorlessly.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing. Forget it. Congratulations."

"Thank you. Going on three years now."

"Wow. Must be soulmates, then."

"She was really there for me. After the war."

And you weren't.

Hermione looked at him steadily for a moment.

"That's great, Ron. I'm happy for you."

"I'm actually meeting her for lunch later. I've got a lot of work to do this morning, so if that's all you came here to say-"

She put the article back in her purse, her back to him for a moment. He heard her take a deep breath.

"I really am sorry, Ron." She said, not turning around.

"For what? You didn't do anything wrong. Your dad needed you."

"I couldn't just leave him all alone. He didn't understand what had happened- my mum didn't even have a funeral- they couldn't find enough of her…" Hermione said, her voice breaking.

"Hermione- nobody blames you for leaving, least of all me. It was terrible what happened." Ron said, crossing to her as she wiped a few errant tears off her cheeks.

"I should have come back. I just got caught up in everything- I got a job at the Australian Ministry- but I should have come back. I just couldn't face it, any of it. I was a coward, Ron. And you were so brave. Like always."

"I wasn't brave. Harry was brave. I was a mess back then, Hermione."

"So was I."

They looked at each other, suddenly feeling like Ron and Hermione again- their real selves, the ones they had been before all of this had been taken from them.

Hermione smiled sadly, touching his cheek.

"It's so good to see you."

Ron looked down at his feet.

"You too."

She hugged him tightly, and she felt so warm and familiar that he couldn't stand to stop her.

"You'll at least think about what I've told you?" She said into his shoulder.

Ron pulled back slightly, looking at her.

"You really believe this?"

"I've never been so sure of anything in my life. Harry's alive, Ron. You know I don't act on things until I've really thought them through."

"Yeah, I vaguely remember you being a bit cautious." Ron grinned.

She smiled back, looking as if she knew she was wearing him down.

"Ron- who better to find him than us? Whatever's happened, whatever's changed- we're still the same people we were all those years ago at Hogwarts. And they would give their last breath to help Harry. They nearly did."

Ron swallowed, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Well, for the sake of argument- where would we even start?"

"I'm meeting with the family who spotted him this Thursday- they live here in London, out by Pimlico. The story goes to press this weekend- so incidentally, I would suggest clearing out of town if you don't want to come with me. It's going to be mad once people find out Harry might still be alive.

"Right. Or someone who just looks an awful lot like Harry just found his fifteen minutes of fame."

Hermione ignored him, fishing around in her purse for a piece of spare parchment and a quill, dipping it into the ink on Ron's desk and hastily scratching down an address.

"If you change your mind- if you think you can at least entertain the possibility- you should meet me here. Thursday at three."

Ron took the address.

"I'm not making any promises, Hermione. I've got to talk this over with Lavender."

Hermione opened her mouth, thought better of it and closed it again.

"What's that face?" Ron raised his eyebrows.

"I just don't know if you should tell anyone. Before we have to."

"She'll know soon enough! Besides, you want me to just up and leave my wife without a word of explanation?"

"So you're thinking about coming, then?"

"I didn't say that!"

Hermione sighed.

"I know. Sorry. You should talk to her. Just please tell her to be discreet."

"Of course."

Ron knew what she was thinking- Lavender had been quite the gossip when they had all been at Hogwarts.

"She's changed, Hermione."

Hermione didn't say anything.

"Really, she has. She's grown up a lot. We're good for each other."

"I'm glad." Hermione briskly clasped her purse shut, patting Ron on the arm as she headed for the door.

"I'll send you my Patronus when I make up my mind." Ron said.

"Right."

Struck with a sudden thought, Ron caught up with her.

"Or- do you want to come over for dinner Wednesday night? I can tell you then."

"Lavender wouldn't mind?"

"I don't think so." Ron shrugged, honestly not knowing exactly what his wife would think of Hermione reappearing- he had a vague idea she wouldn't find it the best news in the world. Lavender had never been Hermione's biggest fan.

But at the moment, Ron found himself not really caring if Lavender wanted Hermione there or not. His mind was rushing with even the slightest possibility that the picture was real, that he and Hermione would find Harry, that they'd all be together like it used to be-

"Ron?"

"W-What?"

"I said I'll be there."

"Great! I think that'll be great." Ron hastily scribbled their address on a piece of scrap paper from his desk, handing it to Hermione.

Hermione took it, looking at him with a skeptical raised eyebrow.

"You sure that won't be weird for me to have dinner with you both?'

"Why would it be weird?"

Hermione sighed.

"Honestly, Ronald, some things just don't change. It'd be weird because you and I- we-"

Ron flushed red.

"Oh. Well. Lavender doesn't know about any of that."

Hermione leaned against the door, smiling in an exasperated sort of way.

"Of course not."

"I mean, she never asked, so I didn't see any point in bringing it up."

Hermione nodded, readjusting her purse strap on her shoulder.

"Right. Besides- that was all a long time ago."

"Yeah. Feels like forever ago. We were just dumb kids then." Ron laughed, ruffling the back of his hair with one hand.

"I know. It was stupid." Hermione said, looking out the window of Ron's office to the humming atrium.

"I wasn't sorry it happened though." Ron corrected himself quickly.

"No, me neither."

She looked back at him, and they smiled at each other. Five years of wondering what the other had really thought solved in a moment.

Well, maybe not solved, he thought to himself.

"See you Wednesday night, then?" Ron said, holding out his hand.

She shook it with a laugh.

"It's a deal, Weasley."

Ron laughed too, opening the door for her and walking her through the office to the open stares and whispers of his colleagues.

"Silence, underlings!" Ron muttered to Hermione, who was busy staring at the moving portrait of Harry, portrayed as he had been at seventeen, the year he had saved them all.

Ron saw her into the elevator, giving a small wave as the grille slid closed.

"Please think about it, Ron. Really think about it." She said, her brown eyes visible through the holes in the gold gilding.

Ron nodded, and then she was gone.

--

the burrow

five years ago

--

Hermione approached the slightly adjar door.

She pushed it open silently, and saw Ron sitting on his bed with back to her. She stood there for a moment, just looking at the muscles of his back straining the thin sweater he was wearing. His shoulders were shaking slightly. He seemed to be looking at something he was holding so intently that he didn't notice her appearance.

Hermione closed the door behind her, and he turned around with a start.

When he saw who it was, he hastily wiped at his face, clearing his throat.

"You could knock, you know." He said, his voice oddly hoarse.

"I'm sorry. Your mum told me you were up here."

He nodded, taking a deep breath that shuddered slightly as he set down what he was holding. Hermione saw as she stepped closer that it was picture of Ron and the twins as much younger boys, playing in front of a Christmas tree.

"What do you want?" He asked roughly.

"I just- I wanted to see you."

He sighed, seeming to remember himself.

"I'm sorry. Come sit down."

She went to the bed and sat down across from him. Ron watched her eyes go to the picture again.

"Mum wanted us to bring stuff to the memorial- happy memories with Fred, things like that." He explained quietly, putting it on top of a stack on his bedside table. Hermione saw Chudley Cannons tickets and a picture of Charlie, Fred, George, Ginny, and Ron in their Gryffindor Quidditch robes, clutching their brooms and standing in the backyard of the Burrow with their arms around each other. Charlie's were a different style than the rest. Ron had also cut out the Quibbler article about Fred and George's flight from Hogwarts- Luna had insisted her father publicize it.

"This is great stuff." Hermione said quietly, picking up the magazine article and skimming it over again. Fred and George's smiling faces emblazoned the pages, with a cartoon of them flying out of Hogwarts, chains trailing their brooms.

"Yeah." Ron leaned back against his headboard, his hands over his eyes.

"Ron- you know that anything you need, I'm here for you." She said, putting her hand on one of his long legs.

He lowered his hands from his face, looking at her.

"Thanks."

There was a long moment, blue eyes on brown. It had started to rain outside, and the sound of the storm filled the silence between them.

The unspoken thought of Harry lay heavy between them. Neither of them could bear to bring it up.

"Do you want me to stay? I'll go if you want to be alone." She finally asked.

"You can stay if you'd like."

She sighed.

"I want you to stay." He corrected himself.

She lay down beside him against the headboard, her head on Ron's shoulder.

He draped an arm around her, and they sat there in silence, listening to the soft rain falling outside. She hadn't realized how exhausted she was, and soon, sleepiness began to pull at her eyelids.

But suddenly Ron spoke, breaking her out of the middle ground between waking and sleeping.

"Hermione?"

"What is it?" She asked, not opening her eyes.

"I'm sorry I haven't been talking to you. It's just…I feel like all I can think about is-"

She sat up slightly, looking at him.

"Me too."

He looked relieved, going on.

"All this family stuff…and Fred… and- you know, Harry being gone."

They had finally acknowledged it. Ron swallowed hard, and Hermione felt her eyes growing hot.

"We'll find him, Ron. He can't be dead."

"I know. We will. Of course we'll find him."

Neither of them sounded convinced.

"I just can't think about all of this anymore." Ron said, his voice breaking.

Hermione stared out the window, tears sliding down her cheeks. Ron watched her cry, wanting to comfort her but feeling just as miserable himself. Mere minutes seemed to stretch into hours as they sat there in silence.

Suddenly, Hermione turned to him, wiping her cheeks. She looked oddly determined, a strange, fierce look in her eyes.

"What if we just…stopped thinking? Not forever of course, but-"

"Hermione, what are you talking about?"

Hermione took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as they went to the buttons of her sweater. Ron didn't say anything, his expression unreadable. She fumbled for a moment with the third button, and Ron's hands were on hers.

"Do you want me to do it?" He asked quietly.

Hermione swallowed.

"Y-Yes."

Ron looked down at his knees for a moment, then suddenly got up and locked the door.

The sound of the lock clicking into place made them both nervous. She saw his wand sitting at the bedside table, and almost laughed- maybe he couldn't remember the spell to lock a door. Truthfully, at the moment, she couldn't either. He came back to the bed, sitting down across from her. They looked at each other.

"You're sure?" He asked quietly.

She nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Ron kissed her. After a moment of hesitation, Hermione pulled him to her with the same urgency she had felt in the Room of Requirement. They were both so inexperienced, so foolish at this- but their mere wanting to seemed to be making up for their lack of knowledge as Ron finished unbuttoning her sweater and she took off his shirt as they embraced.

Suddenly, their tongues daringly met, and Hermione let out a small sigh, her mind going pleasantly blank, her hands tightening on the back of his neck.

This noise from her seemed to have woken up something in both of them, and the fact that they were friends who had never done this kind of thing seemed long-forgotten, unimportant.

They kissed for a long time, Ron unbuttoning her shirt and slipping it off her shoulders as she undid his belt. She unhooked her bra, throwing it on the ground.

Ron's mouth went to the bare skin of her neck, and she pulled him against her, breathing hard. His hands moved to her breasts as Hermione held onto him more tightly, feeling shaky and almost unbearably hot.

"Ron," She said in his ear, "Please-" The feeling of being right on the edge of something seemed to pound through her, her whole body pulsing with a foreign energy. Finally, fumbling with the rest of their clothes until they littered the floor, she was on her back, their legs tangled together, nothing left between them. They both seemed to stop breathing in the moment they came together. They held their breaths, neither moving.

Exhaling, Hermione pulled his face to hers, and they looked at each other as two people on the other side of some long unspoken boundary. They had crossed over together to somewhere completely unknown, and the sight of such a familiar face was both wonderful and frightening.

"I love you." Ron said, his voice oddly loud, looking completely overwhelmed.

Hermione barely strung together a feeble reply saying she loved him too.

Ron gripped the headboard with one hand as they began to make love, Hermione's fingers clenched on his bare shoulders.

The storm grew worse outside, but they didn't hear a sound.

--

Hermione had gotten the news about her mother the next day.

And just like that, she was gone.

--