Disclaimer: You've been on this website long enough to find MY fic, and you don't know that I don't own anything? Tsk. I don't own Norah Jones either… just a copy of both CDs.

Note: I have no clue what I'm doing. It's 11:40 at night, and I have a headache… wonder what I can think up. All I know is it is going to be a Ron/Mione Norah Jones songfic. Okay, here I go. (12:43 update: This took me almost an exact hour!)

There And Back Again

Gray smoke snaked its way out of a chimney in a snow covered house above the town Ottery St. Catchpole. On a lonely, desolate early autumn night, most of the occupants of the house were sleeping. Still awake though, were Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. Hermione was reading a book by the dim light of the fire; sitting at the table, Ron was drinking hot cocoa, complaining of insomnia. Hermione shut the back cover of her book. Ron heard this and looked up. Hermione stood, book under her arm, and headed up the stairs without a good night.

"Wait," said Ron.

"Sorry?" Hermione leaned over the wooden banister.

"Don't go up… would you sit for awhile?"

"I'd be delighted," she walked back down the stairs, and sat down beside him on the couch, her eyes cast down, staring at the floorboards. Ron looked at Hermione, her frizzy cinnamon curls waving over her face, her sparkling eyes dancing in the candlelight. Ron smiled and Hermione looked up, feeling self-conscious. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing's funny," whispered Ron, eyeing Hermione carefully, like walking down a creaky staircase. She folded her arms, as if to shield herself. Ron held her hand out to her and she took it in her cold one, borrowing its warmth. There were a few never-ending seconds of silence; twenty-nine year old Hermione had never remembered a louder one.

"You know, I've just realized everything is so different, since Harry passed away…"

"Well, he did do what he had to," Ron murmured, eyes shut tightly. "And I think of him no less for doing so."

"Neither do I," Hermione reasoned, "but I still miss him."

"Yes, I do too."

Summer days are gone too soon.

You shoot the moon and miss completely.

And now you're left to face the gloom.

The empty room that once smelled sweetly,

Of all the flowers you plucked if only,

You knew the reason…

Why you had to each be lonely

Was it just the season?

"How long has it been, now?" Hermione laid her head on Ron's shoulder, an action which still sent shivers down each of their spines. Hermione could hardly believe that they had remained friends, after Harry could no longer halt their bickering, after the bridge between them was challenged. She sighed.

"Twelve years," came a deadened reply from the redhead. "Twelve long years," staring straight ahead at the door.

"Seems like forever," choked Hermione.

"It has been."

"Ron, promise me something, will you?" She cast her stare upon him, serious.

"Anything. I'd go across the universe for you."

"Tell me you love me." She was serious. Ron was taken aback. His own eyes fell upon her, and her hand crept up his arm and rested lightly upon his shoulder. Ron's breathing was short and jagged. He smiled.

"I love you."

"Do you mean it?"

"What do you mean, 'do I mean it'?" His smile betrayed his angry words.

"Do you mean it when you say 'I love you'?"

"Yes," his eyes were sparkling brightly as the candle extinguished. Hermione didn't get to see what he did next, but she felt it. Felt his hands stroking her face, and the lips that held the smile she loved coming upon her lips… she felt, for the first time in her life, like she was going to scream and jump for joy. Nothing had made her feel this buoyant before in her life. When he released her, she could feel his smile. With her fingers tracing his lips, she smiled herself.

"I love you too, then,"

"Do you mean it?"

"I believe I do, Mr. Weasley." As they kissed again, they murmured to each other. "I feel so lonely, yet so in love."

"It's just the season…"

His smile still lingered in her mind long after that night. She couldn't get it out of her thoughts. Then the striking words he spoke hit her like a blow to the face. A cold, hard blow to the face, and they just about killed her. He told her he loved her, but who was the woman intruding in on them? It had been years, seven long years. What had went wrong? Hermione cried and looked at the wall. Would the wall know?

"I can no longer love you, Ms. Granger," came the voice she knew only too well.

"Ronald!"

"I can no longer speak to you,"

"Ron…"

"I cannot face you, Ms. Granger. I can no longer love you," said Ron, his eyes sparkling now with a sadness so strong it was tangible. Hermione's opalescent tears did nothing to sway the man in his ways, and he left her to break. She did break.

Out in the autumn tinged streets she walked, kicking the leaves she had once laid in beside her long-time lover. Eyes open wide to catch all commotion, struggling through the streets, Hermione spotted him, laughing. Beside a blond haired girl, a gray eyed girl. And he looked happy. Did she, Hermione, keep his sadness? Was she only a memory of those days they were with Harry? Was she only a depressed burden he carried? Hermione passed by Ronald and his girl and caught his eye. She avoided his gaze. Since he had moved out of the Burrow he hadn't been back. But here he was, back in town. Ready to show off his pretty, new toy to the family. Hermione went back to her home, still at the Weasley's.

Hermione sat in the room that had once been Bill's, her eyes looking at the pictures, her hands tearing them down. Each moving photograph protested as her fingers pulled them apart, as she screamed and cried, tears running down her face. There was a knock at her door.

"Come in," she croaked. It was Ron. Hermione's eyes shut and she turned around to face the wall opposite the door.

"Hermione, I'm sorry,"

"Don't be. You have every right to be with another woman."

"Hermione, I still love you,"

"Don't flatter me, Ronald Weasley," she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, glancing out the window at Percy's children flying in the backyard. "You don't love me. I'm thirty-six now, I don't need you to comfort me. I'm moving out of here tomorrow."

"What? Hermione, no!"

"Everything of mine is in a crate now," she turned around, "except for our pictures!" Practically in hysterics, she ripped the last one and pushed past him. Ron caught the photograph in his hand. The picture held him looking happy yet confused. He remembered that. Hermione was announcing she wanted to marry him. They had never fulfilled that ambition. I'd go across the universe for you… I'd go there and back again, still.

Now the fall is here again

You can't begin, to give in, it's all over

When the snow comes rolling through

You're rolling too, with some new lover

"I'm Magdalene," the girl introduced herself with an I'm-better-than-you air. Molly looked at her in dislike and disgust.

"Yes, Maggie and I have made plans to get married. Isn't it wonderful?"

Hermione coughed. "Oh, yes. Indeed." There was an uproar of congratulations and cute remarks.

"Got her pregnant, did you?" Fred sniggered. Ron's ears were scarlet.

"No," he said bashfully, as Arthur and Hermione both began coughing at once.

"Coming down with something?" Magdalene asked of the two.

"Er- no. But I must announce that I am moving out tonight. Thank you for letting me stay here for so long."

"Hermione, dear, you don't have to leave." Molly said, dishing more food onto Charlie's plate.

"I know that, I just think it's time I should make it on my own," she smiled. It was more a matter of whether she could endure another moment of remembering those September years. They began and started for her in fall, and it seemed that she could never call them complete without September. But now everything was as bleak as mid-December. Her decrepit years.

"It's been almost two decades since Harry's been gone," Ron came up behind Hermione.

"I know," she replied bitterly.

"I'm sorry about Maggie…"

"You're marrying that brain-dead slut?"

"Hermione!" Ron looked surprised.

"I'm sorry, but, no, I'm not sorry. You said you loved me! You said you'd go--"

"Across the universe and back again," sighed Ron. "I know."

"You've been across the universe, but not for me." Hermione looked out around the porch, her eyes settling upon frozen dew on the grass. She sniffed as Ron began to speak, not really listening to him, trying to find out what to scream at him. What words to stuff down his throat..?

"I'm sorry, okay? Sorry!"

"I know. But I'm not."

"What?"

"I'm not sorry for loving you," she walked off, her eyes glistening with tears. Ron ran a hand through his hair and joined the rest of the adults for an after-dinner brandy. At the end of that, he caught up with Hermione again. He rubbed her upper arms, standing behind her as she stared down the moon.

"Why are we so lonely?" He whispered into her ear.

"It's just the season," she spoke softly, pulling away just as slow.

Will you think of times you've told me,

That you knew the reason

Why we had to each be lonely?

It was just the season…