A/N - Well, I've always wondered what would happen to the characters of Harry Potter after they graduated from dear old Hogwarts. This story is about their adult-lives. It's rated R because it will deal with war, drugs, sex, violence, and all that unhappy stuff. But it will also have to do with life, love, and happiness. Please, read and review and try to enjoy yourself...
"Ginny, could you please get that?" Ron cried from his spot beside the fire where he was busily arranging his collection of Quidditch newspaper clippings.
"Okay, okay," Ginny sighed, getting up from the overstuffed armchair she had been sitting in to answer the door. Ron barely noticed the door opening, much less the figure out on the front porch. Instead he was looking down, intrigued at the moving clips of the Cannons swooping and diving after the Quaffle. That's why he didn't look up until Ginny gasped and said one word.
"Hermione?"
Then he was up like a bolt and standing beside Ginny. There was indeed a woman standing on the front porch but it was hard to believe that it was Hermione at all. Yes, she looked like Hermione; same hair, same eyes but this woman was breathing in deep ragged breaths. It had been raining all night and her hair was wet and stuck to her face. But despite the rain Ron could still tell she was crying.
"'Oh my God, Mione, what's the matter? Gin, hurry and go get Mum," he ordered staring at the woman, who he figured was Hermione.
"Okay," Ginny murmured, frightened, and immediately disappeared. It only took a few seconds before Molly Weasley burst into the Burrow living room followed closely behind by Ginny.
"Hermione, dear...is that you?" Molly gasped. "Ron, what're you doing just standing there like that? Get her in here. Ginny, go upstairs and get a blanket or some towels or something. Can't you see she's soaked?" Molly Weasley had full grasp of the situation. Ginny, of course, disappeared again off to search for those towels leaving Ron to drag Hermione inside. Molly guided the girl to the couch and sat her down.
"Hermione, what happened?" Mrs.Weasley asked. Hermione just shook her head and took a few more shaky breaths.
"Well, I'm going to go into the kitchen and make you some tea. Does that sound nice? Now why don't you put yourself together and when I come back you can tell me what's wrong," Mrs.Weasley said, as Hermione nodded. Just then, Ginny appeared with the towels and took the spot beside Hermione on the couch.
"Oh Herm," Ginny sighed, as she brushed at Hermione's hair with one of the towels. Ron just stared at her; Hermione Granger, one of his very best friends, maybe the very best of all. The last time he'd seen her she'd announced her engagement to Vicktor Krum. It had, quite possibly, been the worst day of his life. He'd always thought she'd come to her senses one day and leave that creep who he knew was wrong for her and he'd told her that her last visit. She hadn't cared. The wedding had been set for September 22nd and he had not planned on going. In a way, he knew this would break her heart but he didn't want to see it happening. It was enough to just think of it, anyway.
But here she was, wet and crying on his living room couch. He wanted to know why, of course, but for some reason that wasn't as important as the fact that she was there. Really there.
His mother came now, holding a large cup of tea. She pressed it into Hermione's hands and now Hermione stared into it.
"So, tell us...what happened?"
"Well," Hermione sighed. "Just this morning I told Vicktor that I was going to be going over to the Ministry to fill out some forms and run a few errands. Well, since I have the week off from my Auror training and Vicktor had the week off too, I thought I'd buy some groceries and spend the day with Vicktor. So when I came home, I opened the door to our apartment and he's in there making out with some girl."
There were gasps from both Ginny and Molly at this point.
"What girl?" Ginny asked, wide eyed.
"I don't know, just some girl. I had no idea who she was or anything. So, I drop all my groceries and he just stand there like some idiot with this, this woman standing beside him with her shirt off." Hermione paused and looked into her tea, disgusted. "So, of course I asked him what the hell was going on and, and...he just shrugged and said he didn't know. Then he started babbling to the other girl and she left. So, then I started to go too and he asked me where I was going, to my Mum and Dad or something like that. I told him no, I wasn't going to my parents' house, but wherever I did go I didn't want to hear from him, so why should it matter anyway?"
'Good job, Hermione' Ron thought, staring at the three women on the couch. The entire Weasley family knew that Hermione had recently had a falling out with her parents concerning the matter of Vicktor and his summer home in Bulgaria. She couldn't possibly stay with them, because they had suddenly decided that they no longer had a daughter.
"Well since I couldn't go to Mum and Dad, I thought you guys would take me for a few weeks just till I got a new apartment," Hermione said, clearly. She had stopped crying and her hair was starting to look a little dry.
"Well of course you can stay here," Molly said. "I can't just tell you no, you're like family. You can stay in your old room and everything; we'll just need to fix the bed up again."
"You just stay here and finish your tea, it'll only take a minute to set the bed up," Ginny said, standing to go help her mother. "I'll be back to get you in a few, 'kay?"
When Ron was sure they'd gone upstairs he focused on Hermione. He stood up and took a place beside her on the couch. She looked down at her lap, looking almost ashamed at herself for being wrong about Vicktor.
The strands in your eyes
That color them wonderful
Stop me and steal my breath
Emeralds from mountains thrust towards the sky
Never revealing their depth
"'Mione?"
"Okay now's not the time Ron. All right? You can yell at me and tell me you told me so tomorrow," she sighed.
"No! No! No 'Mione, I'm not gonna yell at you. I just y'know, started thinking about you and Vicktor and how upset you used to get when I talked about him. And I just," he sighed. "Oh, come here," he held his arms out and she immediately accepted the hug.
He pulled back after a moment, so he could see her face. "Are you okay?"
"No, I'm not okay. I left my fiancé," Hermione whispered and again she was crying.
"Don't cry, okay. I can't stand that," Ron said.
"I, I can't help it," she sniffled, brushing her tears away with her palms.
"Anything I can do? Whatever you need," he asked.
"Well-But-Now, if-if you can change time, y'know, and stop him before he does...what he did, then things can go back to normal."
"I could try," he said and she smiled a little, through her tears. "You know, Hermione Granger, your eyes have a little bit of green in them."
"They do not," she declared, the smile playing again with the edges of her lips. "Don't you think I would have noticed if they did?"
He shrugged. "I don't know if you've noticed or not but they really do have a little green in them. You should take the time and look."
"Hemione? We're done," that was Ginny. "You can come on up, now."
"I better go, Ron." She got up from the couch and went up the stairs leaving him to watch her disappear. That was Sunday night.
And tell me that we belong together
Dress it up with the trappings of love
I'll be captivated
I'll hang from your lips
Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above
Monday morning dawned in shades of gray and pearl, and Ronald Weasley woke up in a new world; a world that revolved around Hermione Granger. He got out of his bed and stumbled over to his window, where he could see his sister, Virgina, and Hermione collecting the sheets his mother had hung over the magically invisible line in the back garden last night after the rain. If there was one thing Molly Weasley insisted on doing all the time, it was hanging the fresh sheets out in the back garden to catch the air. There was nothing sweeter in the world than sheets that smelled of night air. Of course, Molly Weasley insisted on bringing the sheets in at dawn and magically ridding them of all dew each morning before breakfast and so there was Ginny and Hermione, outside in the gray throwing charms at the sheets on the invisable wire.
Down in the back garden the two girls busily flicked their wands and went running to catch the sheets as they flew towards them. Hermione had found that if she usually stayed still and it wasn't a very windy day, she could make the sheets come directly to her and even fold them in mid-air but with Ginny beside her, talking, it was much harder to concentrate.
"So, I was thinking," Hermione began. "I'll get an apartment and maybe ask you to room with me, because I can't pay for an apartment by myself. Training to be an Auror doesn't really promise you money every week and if I take a job down at Flourish and Blotts, I might be able to cover half of the rent. I'd just really, really need a roommate or two."
"Well, I would jump for the chance but you keep forgetting that I've still got another year at Hogwarts to get through," Ginny sighed, flipping her wand at a flowered sheet. It slid of the wire easily and then blew off in a gust of wind. "Oh, bloody hell," she cried, running to catch the sheet before it hit the ground.
"I can't stay here for an entire year, Ginny," Hermione cried after Ginny, who'd just caught the sheet in her outstretched arms.
"Why not? Ron's doing it," Ginny nodded at the house.
"Ginny, you know I can't."
"But why not?" Ginny asked again, flicking her wand at the final sheet and grabbing it out of mid-air.
Hermione really didn't know. Perhaps it was the fact that she had no way to pay the Weasley family back, she couldn't even scratch up enough money to buy herself a few new books. Vicktor had always been the one to supply the money. She sighed, aggravated with the entire idea that she'd let Vicktor talk her into staying home everyday and taking care of the apartment. She had turned into the legendary housewife and she hadn't even been married to Vicktor.
"Come on, Herm. That was the last one," Ginny said, grabbing the basket filled with sheets. Hermione followed her back into the Burrow, where Molly Weasley was cooking bacon.
"Owl post been through yet, Molly?" Arthur Weasley asked, making his first appearance in the kitchen for breakfast.
"No," Molly answered. "Expecting something?"
"Eh, uh, no," Arthur stammered, as Molly brought the bacon, draining on a magical brand of paper-towel and still sizzling like mad, to the table. She looked toward her daughter for an answer but Ginny just shrugged.
"Where's Ron?" Arthur asked, looking around the kitchen as if the boy might be hiding somewhere.
"Still up in bed," Ginny said, taking the pot of coffee her mother handed her to the table.
"Uh, no." The entire kitchen turned to look at Ronald Weasley, who was sporting a wonderful case of bed head. "I'm here...and just in time for breakfast, too." With that he grabbed a piece of toast and fell into a seat at the kitchen table. Hermione rolled her eyes, remembering that this was the way the old Ron had acted at Hogwarts back when she was a girl.
"Um, Mum... I was wondering, since I've only got one more year at Hogwarts and everything, well... Hermione's going to really need a roommate to help her with rent and stuff and after I graduate, if it wouldn't be a problem or anything...maybe I could move in with her. Maybe?"
"Ginny, that's an entire year away and you know you can always stay with us as long as you need. Ron's staying home, aren't you Ron?" Mrs. Weasley asked, nodding towards Ron who simply shrugged and concentrated on his toast.
"Well, Molly, it's only a year and it might be nice to plan these things ahead of time," Arthur offered. "Think of it, the house empty all year long."
Mrs.Weasley looked shocked. "I don't want the house to be empty. What would I want with an empty house?" Arthur stammered for the right words in the tiny Burrow kitchen. Hermione felt oddly out of place, while Ginny looked more mortified than anything else. Ron didn't even look like he was listening anymore.
"Well, Mum, what do you suggest Hermione do? She can't possibly pay for an apartment by herself and she can't stay here, can she?"
"I could move in with her," Ron offered. Again everyone in the kitchens head's snapped toward Ron, who just sat there staring at his toast. "What?" he asked, staring back at all of them, confused.
After that, everyone was unusually quiet around the breakfast table, except when Owl Post came through. Pig came sailing through the kitchen window, looking greatly the part of a gray tennis ball. After narrowly missing the coffeepot, he dropped a large letter in front of Ron, who openly groaned.
"Ministry forms," he sighed, pulling open the envelope. "Do I have to fill these out again?"
"Well, if you want a good job in a nice department you have to fill out the forms," Arthur nodded.
"Maybe they were too sloppy last time," Ginny teased from where she was finishing up the last of the breakfast dishes. Hermione tutted and shook her head, also teasing as she got up from her place at the table. The two girls disappeared up the stairs, giggling. This, of course, scared Ron. He'd always been frightened of the friendship between Ginny and Hermione and he never understood why.
And I'll be your crying shoulder
I'll be love suicide
I'll be better when I'm older
I'll be the greatest fan of your life
Sometime in the afternoon, the rain began again. Hermione and Ginny occupied themselves with a few older issues of Witch Weekly magazine. Hermione had always hated Witch Weekly but today she flipped through them a look of half-amusement and half-annoyance on her face.
The Burrow which had originally been built to be a small and organized home had long ago turned eccentric and had gained a life of it's on. What had once been two stories had somehow turned into six, the attic floor being the very sixth. On the fifth floor, there were two bedrooms; Ron's and an extra bedroom that Ginny sometimes used during the Summer. The only reason Ginny liked the room, was because of a large window that, when opened, led out into an unstable balcony. The balcony was so unstable that unless the Burrow wasn't held together by strong magic it probably would have already fallen off. The roof covered it; just enough that Ginny could stand out in any weather and look upon the entire yard of the Burrow. Ginny's extra room had been converted into a more private room for Hermione and that was where, on the second night which was Monday, Ron found her.
She was standing on the very edge of the balcony, looking out into the rain. She didn't move when Ron climbed through the window and out onto the unstable balcony ground and so he thought she didn't know he was there, until she started speaking.
"It's funny, isn't it Ron, how everyone hates the rain? I don't hate it, I think it's romantic. It's probably one of the most naturally romantic things that happen and everyone overlooks it, or just calls it dreary. I don't understand that."
She paused for a second, maybe for effect. Before she could say anything else a bolt of lightning struck the sky and gave it white hot color. Ron flinched.
"You're afraid of lightning?" she asked, turning slightly to look at him. "I'm not. It's exciting. You know, Vicktor hated the rain."
Ron didn't care much for the rain himself but he wasn't about to say that now. Instead he stepped toward the edge of the balcony and Hermione, searching for the perfect words. "Hermione, why'd you stay with him all that time when you knew he was going to do this?"
Far from perfect.
At first he thought she hadn't heard him but suddenly she shrugged and began talking again.
"I think it was because Vicktor was the first one to notice that I was good for something. I mean, other then being someone's right hand man or something. He was the first to take the time to look at me and see me. It was nice to be noticed and it was nice at the Yule Ball to get all those looks from everyone. Because he chose me. That was it, at first. It was just nice to be looked at."
Ron felt slightly disturbed. This was Hermione. Hermione of the bushy brown hair and the slightly large front teeth. Hermione who studied constantly, Hermione who'd checked his homework for mistakes back in their school days. The one who'd constantly rolled her eyes at Lavender and Parvarti and their constant make-up talks. All that time, she'd only wanted to be looked at? Disturbing, to say the very least.
"Of course, I learned to love him after awhile and I'd do anything for him. It came to the point where I gave up everything for him; you and Harry didn't like him and Mum and Daddy didn't like him or Bulgaria. So, I gave that all up and stayed with him. We got the apartment and he convinced me to stay at home and enjoy myself while he went off to make money. He didn't make me stay home all day. I went to Quidditch matches and parties and it was kind of nice. I mean who wouldn't want to be introduced as Vicktor Krum's fiancée?"
The answer was loads of women certainly would. Vicktor wasn't exactly the most attractive man in the world but he made up for that with his Quidditch skill and extreme popularity with fans. Ron had once idolized him and, along with Harry, studied every one of his special Quidditch moves. The man was famous and any woman would marry him, if only he'd ask.
But Hermione had not been one of those women. She had barely any interest in Quidditch at all and detested the idea of fangirlism. She had actually loved the man, not because he was a famous Quidditch player but only because she did. She had fallen in love with Vicktor Krum, student of the Institute of Durmstrang not Vicktor Krum the famous Bulgarian Seeker. And that was the difference.
"So, I don't know." She turned and walked a bit away from the edge of the balcony. "What was I supposed to do, leave him for no reason at all? Of course, I suspected that something like that was going on. I mean, I'm not an idiot."
She certainly was not.
"So you knew?" Ron asked, slightly confused.
"Yes...and no," she shrugged. "It's hard to explain. I could just tell."
"How did you ever leave him, 'Mione?" Ron had never exactly believed that Vicktor and Hermione would be over. It had been something he had hoped for but he'd never thought that it could actually happen.
"I really don't know. I just left;" she shrugged again and made her way towards the window to her room again. "Unless you're planning on staying out there all night, you'll get in here now because I'm going to shut the window."
And rain falls angry on the tin roof
As we lie awake in my bed.
And you're my survival,
you're my living proof
My love is alive and not dead.
Of course, he was through the window in a snap. Now, here she stood in Ginny's extra bedroom. Like most of the other rooms in the Weasley home, the room was untidy but in a pleasant kind of way. It was a room where Mrs.Weasley and Ginny stored little odds and ends; stacks and stacks of old Witch Weekly magazines, old pictures, antique bird cages, trunks that looked like they'd been last opened around the turn of the century.
"Do you want to, maybe, stay and talk to me till I fall asleep?" she asked. Ron was stunned. What kind of question was that, anyway?
"Just till I fall asleep and then you can run off to your bed or something."
"Okay, sure. So, talk? What about?"
"I don't know. Anything," she sighed, laying down on the bed near the balcony window. Ron settled into an odd looking but still rather comfortable chair.
"Okay, umm - well. Uhh - Bulgaria, huh?"
"Yeah, Bulgaria," Hermione said. "All right, if you're with someone who knows the place and all. So, when was the last time you heard from Harry?"
"Uh, about a week ago. He's coming up in August to stay awhile, just like you guys always used to."
"So it's going to be just like old times, then?" she asked, smiling naturally.
"Yeah."
"Old times are the best times," she nodded. Ron had to agree.
And tell me that we belong together
Dress it up with the trappings of love
I'll be captivated
I'll hang from your lips
Instead of the gallows of heartache, that hang from above
"You know what I miss, 'Mione?"
She shook her head.
"Hogwarts."
Hermione bit her lip to keep from giggling.
"What?! Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes!"
"Why?"
"I thought you hated it there," Hermione said, arching her eyebrows instinctively.
"Only because classes were so boring," Ron sighed.
"Our classes were not boring!"
"Maybe not for you, 'Mione, but for the rest of us..."
"That's still hard to believe," she said, shifting slightly on the bed.
"That's not the point!"
"What is the point?" Hermione looked at him, eyes questioning.
"That the adventures made up for everything, I mean - was there ever a time when the three of us didn't come through and defeat all the evil?"
She appeared to be thinking about it. Finally, she nodded. "I think that's why we always won because we knew we'd always have someone to lean on if one of us got hurt. I mean - you were so witty and Harry was so brave..."
"And you..."
"Oh, no..."
"You were so smart..."
"Oh gee, I'm going to sleep!" She appeared slightly agitated.
"'Night 'Mione."
"Yeah, okay - night Ron."
She turned her back to him and faced the wall, closing her eyes.
He decided to spend the night.
And I'll be your crying shoulder
I'll be love suicide
I'll be better when I'm older
I'll be the greatest fan of your life
I've dropped out
Burned up,
Fought my way back from the dead
Tuned in,
Turned on,
Remembered the things that you said
As she slept, he remembered; he remembered times when they were much more childish and wild...
He could easily remember her hands, helping him up after he let himself be lost to the giant chess game when the three of them had searched for the Sorcerer's Stone. Her words were tough, yet reassuring and they'd seen him through.
He could remember defending her against Malfoy when he called her a Mudblood; taking that curse filled with slugs for her and her shrieks when the curse hit him.
Most of all, he remembered the Yule Ball and the exact way her hair fell from that elegant bun as she yelled at him. He remembered how he loved her so that night and how he'd felt assured that if he just watched her, she'd notice.
She had helped to form and secure a defense for that stupid Hippogriff, spent the night helping him re-do his Astronomy charts, fought with him over a thousand little things. He remembered his jealously very clearly in his 4th year and vaguely he could remember her own jealously in that same year.
It was in the middle of these thoughts that he fell asleep, sitting in the armchair. His sleep that night was plagued with dreams and memories of Hogwarts; unnaturally vivid but happy. His dreams that night spanned seven years and seven adventures, in which the three of them always came through.
And I'll be your crying shoulder
I'll be love suicide
I'll be better when I'm older
I'll be the greatest fan of your life
The sun fell through the window and hit Hermione Granger's shoulders. She had known that she would awake unnaturally early - she was sleeping in a bed that she hadn't occupied in years and it always took three nights to get used to a new bed. She turned away from the window and sat up, looking into the still-asleep face of Ron Weasley.
She couldn't help but smirk a little.
Maybe life with Ron wouldn't be so bad, after all.
The greatest fan of your life,
The greatest fan of your life.
"Ginny, could you please get that?" Ron cried from his spot beside the fire where he was busily arranging his collection of Quidditch newspaper clippings.
"Okay, okay," Ginny sighed, getting up from the overstuffed armchair she had been sitting in to answer the door. Ron barely noticed the door opening, much less the figure out on the front porch. Instead he was looking down, intrigued at the moving clips of the Cannons swooping and diving after the Quaffle. That's why he didn't look up until Ginny gasped and said one word.
"Hermione?"
Then he was up like a bolt and standing beside Ginny. There was indeed a woman standing on the front porch but it was hard to believe that it was Hermione at all. Yes, she looked like Hermione; same hair, same eyes but this woman was breathing in deep ragged breaths. It had been raining all night and her hair was wet and stuck to her face. But despite the rain Ron could still tell she was crying.
"'Oh my God, Mione, what's the matter? Gin, hurry and go get Mum," he ordered staring at the woman, who he figured was Hermione.
"Okay," Ginny murmured, frightened, and immediately disappeared. It only took a few seconds before Molly Weasley burst into the Burrow living room followed closely behind by Ginny.
"Hermione, dear...is that you?" Molly gasped. "Ron, what're you doing just standing there like that? Get her in here. Ginny, go upstairs and get a blanket or some towels or something. Can't you see she's soaked?" Molly Weasley had full grasp of the situation. Ginny, of course, disappeared again off to search for those towels leaving Ron to drag Hermione inside. Molly guided the girl to the couch and sat her down.
"Hermione, what happened?" Mrs.Weasley asked. Hermione just shook her head and took a few more shaky breaths.
"Well, I'm going to go into the kitchen and make you some tea. Does that sound nice? Now why don't you put yourself together and when I come back you can tell me what's wrong," Mrs.Weasley said, as Hermione nodded. Just then, Ginny appeared with the towels and took the spot beside Hermione on the couch.
"Oh Herm," Ginny sighed, as she brushed at Hermione's hair with one of the towels. Ron just stared at her; Hermione Granger, one of his very best friends, maybe the very best of all. The last time he'd seen her she'd announced her engagement to Vicktor Krum. It had, quite possibly, been the worst day of his life. He'd always thought she'd come to her senses one day and leave that creep who he knew was wrong for her and he'd told her that her last visit. She hadn't cared. The wedding had been set for September 22nd and he had not planned on going. In a way, he knew this would break her heart but he didn't want to see it happening. It was enough to just think of it, anyway.
But here she was, wet and crying on his living room couch. He wanted to know why, of course, but for some reason that wasn't as important as the fact that she was there. Really there.
His mother came now, holding a large cup of tea. She pressed it into Hermione's hands and now Hermione stared into it.
"So, tell us...what happened?"
"Well," Hermione sighed. "Just this morning I told Vicktor that I was going to be going over to the Ministry to fill out some forms and run a few errands. Well, since I have the week off from my Auror training and Vicktor had the week off too, I thought I'd buy some groceries and spend the day with Vicktor. So when I came home, I opened the door to our apartment and he's in there making out with some girl."
There were gasps from both Ginny and Molly at this point.
"What girl?" Ginny asked, wide eyed.
"I don't know, just some girl. I had no idea who she was or anything. So, I drop all my groceries and he just stand there like some idiot with this, this woman standing beside him with her shirt off." Hermione paused and looked into her tea, disgusted. "So, of course I asked him what the hell was going on and, and...he just shrugged and said he didn't know. Then he started babbling to the other girl and she left. So, then I started to go too and he asked me where I was going, to my Mum and Dad or something like that. I told him no, I wasn't going to my parents' house, but wherever I did go I didn't want to hear from him, so why should it matter anyway?"
'Good job, Hermione' Ron thought, staring at the three women on the couch. The entire Weasley family knew that Hermione had recently had a falling out with her parents concerning the matter of Vicktor and his summer home in Bulgaria. She couldn't possibly stay with them, because they had suddenly decided that they no longer had a daughter.
"Well since I couldn't go to Mum and Dad, I thought you guys would take me for a few weeks just till I got a new apartment," Hermione said, clearly. She had stopped crying and her hair was starting to look a little dry.
"Well of course you can stay here," Molly said. "I can't just tell you no, you're like family. You can stay in your old room and everything; we'll just need to fix the bed up again."
"You just stay here and finish your tea, it'll only take a minute to set the bed up," Ginny said, standing to go help her mother. "I'll be back to get you in a few, 'kay?"
When Ron was sure they'd gone upstairs he focused on Hermione. He stood up and took a place beside her on the couch. She looked down at her lap, looking almost ashamed at herself for being wrong about Vicktor.
The strands in your eyes
That color them wonderful
Stop me and steal my breath
Emeralds from mountains thrust towards the sky
Never revealing their depth
"'Mione?"
"Okay now's not the time Ron. All right? You can yell at me and tell me you told me so tomorrow," she sighed.
"No! No! No 'Mione, I'm not gonna yell at you. I just y'know, started thinking about you and Vicktor and how upset you used to get when I talked about him. And I just," he sighed. "Oh, come here," he held his arms out and she immediately accepted the hug.
He pulled back after a moment, so he could see her face. "Are you okay?"
"No, I'm not okay. I left my fiancé," Hermione whispered and again she was crying.
"Don't cry, okay. I can't stand that," Ron said.
"I, I can't help it," she sniffled, brushing her tears away with her palms.
"Anything I can do? Whatever you need," he asked.
"Well-But-Now, if-if you can change time, y'know, and stop him before he does...what he did, then things can go back to normal."
"I could try," he said and she smiled a little, through her tears. "You know, Hermione Granger, your eyes have a little bit of green in them."
"They do not," she declared, the smile playing again with the edges of her lips. "Don't you think I would have noticed if they did?"
He shrugged. "I don't know if you've noticed or not but they really do have a little green in them. You should take the time and look."
"Hemione? We're done," that was Ginny. "You can come on up, now."
"I better go, Ron." She got up from the couch and went up the stairs leaving him to watch her disappear. That was Sunday night.
And tell me that we belong together
Dress it up with the trappings of love
I'll be captivated
I'll hang from your lips
Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above
Monday morning dawned in shades of gray and pearl, and Ronald Weasley woke up in a new world; a world that revolved around Hermione Granger. He got out of his bed and stumbled over to his window, where he could see his sister, Virgina, and Hermione collecting the sheets his mother had hung over the magically invisible line in the back garden last night after the rain. If there was one thing Molly Weasley insisted on doing all the time, it was hanging the fresh sheets out in the back garden to catch the air. There was nothing sweeter in the world than sheets that smelled of night air. Of course, Molly Weasley insisted on bringing the sheets in at dawn and magically ridding them of all dew each morning before breakfast and so there was Ginny and Hermione, outside in the gray throwing charms at the sheets on the invisable wire.
Down in the back garden the two girls busily flicked their wands and went running to catch the sheets as they flew towards them. Hermione had found that if she usually stayed still and it wasn't a very windy day, she could make the sheets come directly to her and even fold them in mid-air but with Ginny beside her, talking, it was much harder to concentrate.
"So, I was thinking," Hermione began. "I'll get an apartment and maybe ask you to room with me, because I can't pay for an apartment by myself. Training to be an Auror doesn't really promise you money every week and if I take a job down at Flourish and Blotts, I might be able to cover half of the rent. I'd just really, really need a roommate or two."
"Well, I would jump for the chance but you keep forgetting that I've still got another year at Hogwarts to get through," Ginny sighed, flipping her wand at a flowered sheet. It slid of the wire easily and then blew off in a gust of wind. "Oh, bloody hell," she cried, running to catch the sheet before it hit the ground.
"I can't stay here for an entire year, Ginny," Hermione cried after Ginny, who'd just caught the sheet in her outstretched arms.
"Why not? Ron's doing it," Ginny nodded at the house.
"Ginny, you know I can't."
"But why not?" Ginny asked again, flicking her wand at the final sheet and grabbing it out of mid-air.
Hermione really didn't know. Perhaps it was the fact that she had no way to pay the Weasley family back, she couldn't even scratch up enough money to buy herself a few new books. Vicktor had always been the one to supply the money. She sighed, aggravated with the entire idea that she'd let Vicktor talk her into staying home everyday and taking care of the apartment. She had turned into the legendary housewife and she hadn't even been married to Vicktor.
"Come on, Herm. That was the last one," Ginny said, grabbing the basket filled with sheets. Hermione followed her back into the Burrow, where Molly Weasley was cooking bacon.
"Owl post been through yet, Molly?" Arthur Weasley asked, making his first appearance in the kitchen for breakfast.
"No," Molly answered. "Expecting something?"
"Eh, uh, no," Arthur stammered, as Molly brought the bacon, draining on a magical brand of paper-towel and still sizzling like mad, to the table. She looked toward her daughter for an answer but Ginny just shrugged.
"Where's Ron?" Arthur asked, looking around the kitchen as if the boy might be hiding somewhere.
"Still up in bed," Ginny said, taking the pot of coffee her mother handed her to the table.
"Uh, no." The entire kitchen turned to look at Ronald Weasley, who was sporting a wonderful case of bed head. "I'm here...and just in time for breakfast, too." With that he grabbed a piece of toast and fell into a seat at the kitchen table. Hermione rolled her eyes, remembering that this was the way the old Ron had acted at Hogwarts back when she was a girl.
"Um, Mum... I was wondering, since I've only got one more year at Hogwarts and everything, well... Hermione's going to really need a roommate to help her with rent and stuff and after I graduate, if it wouldn't be a problem or anything...maybe I could move in with her. Maybe?"
"Ginny, that's an entire year away and you know you can always stay with us as long as you need. Ron's staying home, aren't you Ron?" Mrs. Weasley asked, nodding towards Ron who simply shrugged and concentrated on his toast.
"Well, Molly, it's only a year and it might be nice to plan these things ahead of time," Arthur offered. "Think of it, the house empty all year long."
Mrs.Weasley looked shocked. "I don't want the house to be empty. What would I want with an empty house?" Arthur stammered for the right words in the tiny Burrow kitchen. Hermione felt oddly out of place, while Ginny looked more mortified than anything else. Ron didn't even look like he was listening anymore.
"Well, Mum, what do you suggest Hermione do? She can't possibly pay for an apartment by herself and she can't stay here, can she?"
"I could move in with her," Ron offered. Again everyone in the kitchens head's snapped toward Ron, who just sat there staring at his toast. "What?" he asked, staring back at all of them, confused.
After that, everyone was unusually quiet around the breakfast table, except when Owl Post came through. Pig came sailing through the kitchen window, looking greatly the part of a gray tennis ball. After narrowly missing the coffeepot, he dropped a large letter in front of Ron, who openly groaned.
"Ministry forms," he sighed, pulling open the envelope. "Do I have to fill these out again?"
"Well, if you want a good job in a nice department you have to fill out the forms," Arthur nodded.
"Maybe they were too sloppy last time," Ginny teased from where she was finishing up the last of the breakfast dishes. Hermione tutted and shook her head, also teasing as she got up from her place at the table. The two girls disappeared up the stairs, giggling. This, of course, scared Ron. He'd always been frightened of the friendship between Ginny and Hermione and he never understood why.
And I'll be your crying shoulder
I'll be love suicide
I'll be better when I'm older
I'll be the greatest fan of your life
Sometime in the afternoon, the rain began again. Hermione and Ginny occupied themselves with a few older issues of Witch Weekly magazine. Hermione had always hated Witch Weekly but today she flipped through them a look of half-amusement and half-annoyance on her face.
The Burrow which had originally been built to be a small and organized home had long ago turned eccentric and had gained a life of it's on. What had once been two stories had somehow turned into six, the attic floor being the very sixth. On the fifth floor, there were two bedrooms; Ron's and an extra bedroom that Ginny sometimes used during the Summer. The only reason Ginny liked the room, was because of a large window that, when opened, led out into an unstable balcony. The balcony was so unstable that unless the Burrow wasn't held together by strong magic it probably would have already fallen off. The roof covered it; just enough that Ginny could stand out in any weather and look upon the entire yard of the Burrow. Ginny's extra room had been converted into a more private room for Hermione and that was where, on the second night which was Monday, Ron found her.
She was standing on the very edge of the balcony, looking out into the rain. She didn't move when Ron climbed through the window and out onto the unstable balcony ground and so he thought she didn't know he was there, until she started speaking.
"It's funny, isn't it Ron, how everyone hates the rain? I don't hate it, I think it's romantic. It's probably one of the most naturally romantic things that happen and everyone overlooks it, or just calls it dreary. I don't understand that."
She paused for a second, maybe for effect. Before she could say anything else a bolt of lightning struck the sky and gave it white hot color. Ron flinched.
"You're afraid of lightning?" she asked, turning slightly to look at him. "I'm not. It's exciting. You know, Vicktor hated the rain."
Ron didn't care much for the rain himself but he wasn't about to say that now. Instead he stepped toward the edge of the balcony and Hermione, searching for the perfect words. "Hermione, why'd you stay with him all that time when you knew he was going to do this?"
Far from perfect.
At first he thought she hadn't heard him but suddenly she shrugged and began talking again.
"I think it was because Vicktor was the first one to notice that I was good for something. I mean, other then being someone's right hand man or something. He was the first to take the time to look at me and see me. It was nice to be noticed and it was nice at the Yule Ball to get all those looks from everyone. Because he chose me. That was it, at first. It was just nice to be looked at."
Ron felt slightly disturbed. This was Hermione. Hermione of the bushy brown hair and the slightly large front teeth. Hermione who studied constantly, Hermione who'd checked his homework for mistakes back in their school days. The one who'd constantly rolled her eyes at Lavender and Parvarti and their constant make-up talks. All that time, she'd only wanted to be looked at? Disturbing, to say the very least.
"Of course, I learned to love him after awhile and I'd do anything for him. It came to the point where I gave up everything for him; you and Harry didn't like him and Mum and Daddy didn't like him or Bulgaria. So, I gave that all up and stayed with him. We got the apartment and he convinced me to stay at home and enjoy myself while he went off to make money. He didn't make me stay home all day. I went to Quidditch matches and parties and it was kind of nice. I mean who wouldn't want to be introduced as Vicktor Krum's fiancée?"
The answer was loads of women certainly would. Vicktor wasn't exactly the most attractive man in the world but he made up for that with his Quidditch skill and extreme popularity with fans. Ron had once idolized him and, along with Harry, studied every one of his special Quidditch moves. The man was famous and any woman would marry him, if only he'd ask.
But Hermione had not been one of those women. She had barely any interest in Quidditch at all and detested the idea of fangirlism. She had actually loved the man, not because he was a famous Quidditch player but only because she did. She had fallen in love with Vicktor Krum, student of the Institute of Durmstrang not Vicktor Krum the famous Bulgarian Seeker. And that was the difference.
"So, I don't know." She turned and walked a bit away from the edge of the balcony. "What was I supposed to do, leave him for no reason at all? Of course, I suspected that something like that was going on. I mean, I'm not an idiot."
She certainly was not.
"So you knew?" Ron asked, slightly confused.
"Yes...and no," she shrugged. "It's hard to explain. I could just tell."
"How did you ever leave him, 'Mione?" Ron had never exactly believed that Vicktor and Hermione would be over. It had been something he had hoped for but he'd never thought that it could actually happen.
"I really don't know. I just left;" she shrugged again and made her way towards the window to her room again. "Unless you're planning on staying out there all night, you'll get in here now because I'm going to shut the window."
And rain falls angry on the tin roof
As we lie awake in my bed.
And you're my survival,
you're my living proof
My love is alive and not dead.
Of course, he was through the window in a snap. Now, here she stood in Ginny's extra bedroom. Like most of the other rooms in the Weasley home, the room was untidy but in a pleasant kind of way. It was a room where Mrs.Weasley and Ginny stored little odds and ends; stacks and stacks of old Witch Weekly magazines, old pictures, antique bird cages, trunks that looked like they'd been last opened around the turn of the century.
"Do you want to, maybe, stay and talk to me till I fall asleep?" she asked. Ron was stunned. What kind of question was that, anyway?
"Just till I fall asleep and then you can run off to your bed or something."
"Okay, sure. So, talk? What about?"
"I don't know. Anything," she sighed, laying down on the bed near the balcony window. Ron settled into an odd looking but still rather comfortable chair.
"Okay, umm - well. Uhh - Bulgaria, huh?"
"Yeah, Bulgaria," Hermione said. "All right, if you're with someone who knows the place and all. So, when was the last time you heard from Harry?"
"Uh, about a week ago. He's coming up in August to stay awhile, just like you guys always used to."
"So it's going to be just like old times, then?" she asked, smiling naturally.
"Yeah."
"Old times are the best times," she nodded. Ron had to agree.
And tell me that we belong together
Dress it up with the trappings of love
I'll be captivated
I'll hang from your lips
Instead of the gallows of heartache, that hang from above
"You know what I miss, 'Mione?"
She shook her head.
"Hogwarts."
Hermione bit her lip to keep from giggling.
"What?! Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes!"
"Why?"
"I thought you hated it there," Hermione said, arching her eyebrows instinctively.
"Only because classes were so boring," Ron sighed.
"Our classes were not boring!"
"Maybe not for you, 'Mione, but for the rest of us..."
"That's still hard to believe," she said, shifting slightly on the bed.
"That's not the point!"
"What is the point?" Hermione looked at him, eyes questioning.
"That the adventures made up for everything, I mean - was there ever a time when the three of us didn't come through and defeat all the evil?"
She appeared to be thinking about it. Finally, she nodded. "I think that's why we always won because we knew we'd always have someone to lean on if one of us got hurt. I mean - you were so witty and Harry was so brave..."
"And you..."
"Oh, no..."
"You were so smart..."
"Oh gee, I'm going to sleep!" She appeared slightly agitated.
"'Night 'Mione."
"Yeah, okay - night Ron."
She turned her back to him and faced the wall, closing her eyes.
He decided to spend the night.
And I'll be your crying shoulder
I'll be love suicide
I'll be better when I'm older
I'll be the greatest fan of your life
I've dropped out
Burned up,
Fought my way back from the dead
Tuned in,
Turned on,
Remembered the things that you said
As she slept, he remembered; he remembered times when they were much more childish and wild...
He could easily remember her hands, helping him up after he let himself be lost to the giant chess game when the three of them had searched for the Sorcerer's Stone. Her words were tough, yet reassuring and they'd seen him through.
He could remember defending her against Malfoy when he called her a Mudblood; taking that curse filled with slugs for her and her shrieks when the curse hit him.
Most of all, he remembered the Yule Ball and the exact way her hair fell from that elegant bun as she yelled at him. He remembered how he loved her so that night and how he'd felt assured that if he just watched her, she'd notice.
She had helped to form and secure a defense for that stupid Hippogriff, spent the night helping him re-do his Astronomy charts, fought with him over a thousand little things. He remembered his jealously very clearly in his 4th year and vaguely he could remember her own jealously in that same year.
It was in the middle of these thoughts that he fell asleep, sitting in the armchair. His sleep that night was plagued with dreams and memories of Hogwarts; unnaturally vivid but happy. His dreams that night spanned seven years and seven adventures, in which the three of them always came through.
And I'll be your crying shoulder
I'll be love suicide
I'll be better when I'm older
I'll be the greatest fan of your life
The sun fell through the window and hit Hermione Granger's shoulders. She had known that she would awake unnaturally early - she was sleeping in a bed that she hadn't occupied in years and it always took three nights to get used to a new bed. She turned away from the window and sat up, looking into the still-asleep face of Ron Weasley.
She couldn't help but smirk a little.
Maybe life with Ron wouldn't be so bad, after all.
The greatest fan of your life,
The greatest fan of your life.