(A/N: Hey, this isn't exactly my first fan fiction, but, my first one was written forever and a day ago. Please review and tell me what you think! Love Always: Nani)
Disclaimer: I wish I did own Harry Potter, but, sadly I don't. Trust me, if I did, Sirius would not be dead. But, then again, that's why I love fan fictions. I can make the story go any way I want. evil glint in eye Muahahahaha!
Chapter One
Why Can't I Turn Back Time?
Paranoia, the one curse that befell the red head lying in his bed; or perhaps it was insomnia. Nevertheless, he couldn't tell. It was a beautiful night, full of stars that shined the night sky, but it was being disturbed by rustling noises. It could have been the trees, or someone who had come to murder him in his sleep. It could be a peaceful unicorn, or maybe a lethal, homicidal animal just waiting to eat him. It couldn't be that bad… could it? Being the best auror in the history of the Ministry of Magic was just one thing Ronald Weasley could barely live with. He did have his fame among the innocent, but he had a different kind of fame among the guilty…
Since he couldn't sleep, Ron spent a lot of time thinking of his new life since he had graduated from his beloved Hogwarts almost five years to the day. He remembered his last day with his friends Harry and Hermione… it had been so long since he'd seen the two. Well, Hermione becoming a famous witch for her "Beauty and Brains" as the Witches Weekly Magazine put it and Harry… he had no clue where he was. He just knew that he had to find him.
Ron reached on his bedside table and took the pile of papers that silently lay there, waiting to be read. He took the newspaper clippings, doodles, new ideas. What went wrong? Why did the world turn upside down? Harry a dangerous murderer? Unfortunately, he couldn't let a friend (or in Harry's case, more of a brother-like-figure) status get in the way of his job. There were people in danger. They needed protecting from people like Harry… didn't they?
The rustling sounds remained incessant until early morning. He heaved himself out of bed, feeling much like 1,000 lb dumbbell, got dressed, and sat down to eat breakfast. Living in Hogsmeade wasn't all too bad. He could walk to work, stay in town, and have fun when he was off work. This was the life… wasn't it?
The ministry was extremely busy that morning. It resembled a hive of busy bees buzzing around to desperately make their honey. After spotting a reporter who had been almost stalking for the past week since the most recent murder, he headed to his office, quicker than the speed of light. He showed the guard his identification pass and zoomed through the door. As the door closed, he let out a sigh. He looked around the plain room. Only one photograph was on the desk… a photograph of his Hogwarts graduation day. Three smiling, bright-eyed faces looked into the lens. It was a moving photograph, but in color. He remembered saving all his money that year just to be able to afford that picture. The red head on the right made a goofy face at the other two on his left, and then looked back at the camera while the other two laughed hysterically. The girl looked fondly at the two boys and gave the red head a big hug while the boy in the middle moved back. There was something significantly different about the hug she gave the boy in the middle. Ron was sure he had received was a "just friends" hug. He remembered that hug… he carried it in his heart always. Then, the handshake between the two boys came. They looked at each other as if they already knew what was destined for their friendship. It was only a split-second look because they laughed hysterically the next minute. There were tears all their eyes… if only Ron could go back in time and stop it all from happening. The picture reset from the beginning and suddenly, Ron was brought back to Earth by a knock on the door.
"Mr. Weasley, you have an old friend here to see you," his secretary knocked, sounding very disbelieving of the claim.
"If they're from the Daily Prophet or any other newspaper send them away." Ron said slightly irritated from the interruption.
"It's a Hogwarts graduate, not a reporter. She DEMANDS to see you," his secretary replied.
"Then by all means," Ron said, "send her in."
"Thank you very much," a familiar See-I-Told-You-So voice said.
"Hermione?" Ron asked himself under his breath. When she walked in, he was astonished to see that she was even more beautiful in person than in all those magazines. "Hermione!" he said this time very excited, "Oh my goodness! How long has it been?"
"About five years," Hermione replied with a smile. "And look at you, Ron, the greatest and most valuable auror of your time. Mad-Eye Moody would have been proud to see you now."
Ron blushed slightly. Hermione took the chance to look around the simple, but huge office. Her eyes fell on the picture on his desk. "I kept it for memories," Ron said to her. She watched until the picture showed her hugging Harry, but turned away.
"I have it too, but, after," there was a pause, "…it happened, I put the frame down flat so I could stop the yearning."
"What yearning?"
"The yearning to use the time turner I have." Hermione said in a soft voice.
"I know what you mean," he said. "So, what brings you here?" He was trying to get off the subject.
"Harry," she replied.
"Oh?" Ron asked. "What about Harry?" he asked stressing the name like a wad of gum he was trying to spit out.
"He's innocent, Ron." Hermione started off.
"Not this again," Ron replied in an exasperated tone. "Do you know how many hate letters I received from the girls who think he's hot and I'm just a jealous friend? And here you are, you two were in love – IN LOVE! What am I supposed to think?"
"I've always known, but I've spent a lot of time trying to prove it."
"So you can prove it now?"
"Yes, I can." Hermione said to him trying not to get frustrated. "He was accused of murder. All his victims received notes from him, didn't they?"
Ron reached into a drawer in his desk and pulled out the stack of letters. "All of them are here."
Hermione pulled a piece of parchment out of her bag and laid it on top of the rest without a word.
Hermione Dearest,
Your days are numbered. Watch your back. Something tells me something terrible might happen to you if you aren't careful. It's too bad. You had such a bright future ahead of you. Lots of love to you… xoxoxox
Love Always,
Harry Potter…
"You get a death threat and you think he's innocent?" Ron asked skeptically.
Again, without a word she pulled out another packet of papers. It was a pile of research. She pulled out a plastic bag with a note almost identical and word-for-word the same… addressed to "Lily Dearest & Family" Signed by Sirius Black. "We know that Sirius didn't kill the Potters, Voldemort did. All of HIS victims received letters before their deaths, much like this one. Do you believe me now?"
"Not exactly convinced, but you're on to something," Ron said to her
Tears filled in her eyes. "One more thing," she muttered softly in a choked up voice.
"What?" he asked. "Hermione please don't cry."
"We're friends, right?"
"Right," Ron said
She looked up at him, "So you won't use this against me, right?"
He sighed, thinking of the consequences of this promise. "Right," he replied.
"I know where he is," she said softly.
"How do you know?" Ron asked. He was trying not to give her the idea that he would immediately go after Harry and have him thrown in Azkaban. He probably would've, but, she didn't need to know that.
She paused. He could see under the veneer of her face that the tension was boiling up inside her. He could see she was arguing with herself whether or not she should tell him. "You'll be mad at me," she replied like a little child, "and you'll throw him to the dementors."
He didn't reply, because he knew what he'd be getting into if he did.
"That or you'll throw me into Azkaban." Hermione said sounding very much like a frightened, little girl.
"That I won't do," he said with a small chuckle.
"I've kept in touch with Harry. We write letters to each other."
The smirk on Ron's face disappeared.
"He knew that you wouldn't believe him," she whispered avoiding eye contact. "If you caught Harry Potter, just imagine what that would do to your reputation whether he's innocent or not."
Ron didn't answer. All hope of asking Hermione to be his girlfriend was lost—she was still in love with Harry and still keeping in touch with him. At least, that's what it seemed to be. "A romantic relationship with a convicted felon? With a murderer? Hermione, I never thought you'd sink that low. I never thought you would ever sink low at all."
"It's not romantic," she said wiping her tears. "You men always get things confused. Harry and I never had a thing for each other."
"It was obvious you two did have something there between you."
"A friendship was all we had, Ron. If you're referring to that picture, I hugged him a lot more comfortably because I knew nothing would ever escalate between us—I was always afraid of hugging you that way because you would, well, notice."
"Notice what?" Ron asked.
"It doesn't matter… not anymore anyways."
A long silence filled the office and only the sound of slow, deep breaths could be heard. Ron broke the silence. "Hermione, why do you want to prove his innocence?"
"Because he's my friend, Ron, and what are friends for? I'm not going to tell you where he is so I could show up even more in the papers. I'm not concerned about an ego trip."
"Neither am I." Ron said catching her daggers.
"How do I know that?"
"You just have to trust me," Ron replied with a smile. "If you really think he's innocent, I'll investigate a lot more thoroughly."
Hermione smiled. "I had a feeling you would see it my way."
The two friends stopped laughing for a minute to order their meal from the waitress. They'd been seeing each other and meeting for meals and dances for a while now. Ron woke up some mornings forgetting he had work. After she had taken the order, they smiled at each other. "I can't believe you live in Hogsmeade too."
"What a coincidence," Ron said with his eyebrows raised.
"Yes, it is." Hermione smiled from her side of the booth. It was one of those booths that was curved and could sit four people, but since they were the only two left, the hostess let them choose their seat.
Ron scooted closer to Hermione. As he got closer, Hermione took deeper breaths. He soon made it to her side and looked into her eyes. "I'm so glad to see you again."
"So am I," Hermione whispered. "You have no idea how happy I am."
Ron took his hand and placed it under her chin and tilted her up slightly. Ever so gently, he slowly moved towards her. His lips got closer and closer until they rested on hers. He softly kissed them, waiting to see what would happen. She began to kiss him back and moved her arm to his chest. Ron put one arm around her waist and moved the other the back of her neck, running his finger in circles and slightly massaging the back of her head. She began to shiver in response to his strokes. They parted for a moment, but their faces still remained close. Hermione was the first to smile, and Ron followed. They didn't waste a moment to continue their kisses until their food came to the table. They ate in silence, side by side, smiling from ear to ear.
They left with the same smile. "You know," Hermione said, "you've been to my house to drop me off plenty of times, but, I've never seen your house."
"Well, if you want, you can drop me off tonight." Ron said smirking.
Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand. "Lead the way," she said. She smiled when she saw the beautiful building. They stood at the porch together not letting go of the other's hand. "Good night," Ron said with a smile as he began to kiss her again.
"Good night," she replied with a smile. Ever so slowly, she began to walk away. Ron watched her leave, her beautiful shape getting smaller in the distance as she headed for the other side of Hogsmeade. What could make him happier? Well, for starters, things would be even more perfect if Harry wasn't a felon, he thought to himself, still very unconvinced by Hermione's incessant arguments on Harry's behalf.
"We shall see what happens," Ron said to himself as he opened the door, completely oblivious to the rustling noises behind him that he had been ignoring for a few weeks now.
7
