Chapter 1: Lost Love Found Again

"Miss Granger?" The voice of her secretary snapped Hermione Granger out of the intense train of thought she had been on, staring at the same specific picture frame on her desk for at least the last fifteen minutes. Too quickly, Hermione wiped at her eyes to hide the tears that were inevitably glistening there, but that she had become very skilled at not shedding from beyond her eyes so that co-workers could see.

"Yes, Lucinda?"

"The Auror-in-Chief requests your presence in his office at your earliest convenience."

Hermione smiled weakly. "Tell Harry I will be there in a minute." Her secretary nodded in deference and slipped out the door.

Hermione bustled about, cleaning up her desk and preparing herself to see her best friend. Even if her secretary didn't know she had been crying, Harry Potter most certainly would. Even more damning, Harry would know why, as she chanced a glance at the framed photo on her desk.

The crooked grin of her lost love stared back at her. It had been ten years since the Battle of Hogwarts. Ten years since Ron Weasley, her dear friend and the love of her life, had disappeared without a trace. The Ministry of Magic had declared him missing in action, presumed dead. An Order of Merlin had been awarded posthumously (at least it was assumed posthumously), the rank of which Hermione couldn't remember. Reports were that Ron had last been seen battling the werewolf Fenrir Greyback, just before Voldemort was killed. Theories had abounded that the red-headed hero had been mauled to death.

Hermione, however, never completely gave up hope. And neither had Harry. Having him as an ally had meant more to the young witch than she could possibly express, watching him rise meteorically through the Aurors' ranks, advancing his career until he eventually took over the department. An investigation into Ron's fate remained consistently open, even after other Battle of Hogwarts' missing-persons cases had long since closed. From time to time, Harry would keep Hermione updated on his findings, if any.

Perhaps this was what he wanted to see her about, Hermione thought, as she smoothed down her dress and tried to make herself look presentable and keep her emotional state hidden. But even if she failed in this, Harry was more understanding than most. Many of Hermione's friends, colleagues, even her adopted relatives in the Weasleys (the family she had hoped to marry into one day) had encouraged her to move on. Date and find someone new. She had tried, once or twice, but the spark was never there. She had even gone on a date with Viktor Krum, her old school flame, but the phantom of Ron, the instinct to always compare him with the man sitting across the candlelight from her, had killed any chance of finding a new romance. A potential marriage. A new mate.

Hermione now approached the oak door to Harry's office, which had a sign bearing H. POTTER, AUROR-IN-CHIEF. Her brother-in-law (she considered him to be that, as she would always feel married to Ron in her heart; Ron had been her soulmate) sat hunched at his desk, his glasses pushed down to the very bridge of his nose, his brow furrowed.

Hermione smiled softly, crossing over until he was alerted to her presence. "Hey," she kissed him on the cheek, a gesture he returned. "You wanted to see me?"

Harry smiled, a firm one that seemed to reflect his age. In Hermione's opinion, he had aged like a bottle of fine wine, but the heaviness about his person - the-weight-of-the-world solemnity she had known in him since they were children, since he was a boy - was still there.

"I have news about Ron. A break in the case."

Hermione almost collapsed into the seat across from Harry's desk, holding her breath with dread. "Is he... dead?"

Suddenly, Harry's smile broadened. "Far from it - the bloody tosser's still alive."

Hermione gasped, her heart alighting and suddenly starting to beat erratically. "How?... What?... If you are pulling my leg, Harry James Potter..."

"I'm not. A lead tipped my men and I off to an isolated castle on the Ireland coast. A werewolf who has been shut up there. This lead has experienced sightings of someone who looks like Ron during the day there, and then when the moon is full... there are identifiable markings on him... The lead is almost positive it's him."

Hermione's heart soared and broke all at once at the news. "He was bitten, then..."

"By Greyback, most likely," Harry's voice was grim.

The tears came roaring back, and Hermione dabbed at them; she didn't care anymore that Harry was watching. Ron... a werewolf by night... all alone for so many years... he must have been so scared... But then, her take-charge attitude reasserted itself, and she asked. "When can we go get him?"

Harry chuckled. "I have subordinates who wanted to take this on, but I have stalled them by saying I still need to make a decision on the assignment. What they don't know is... I already have." He looked Hermione square in the eye. "You have been a loving, doting godmother to my kids, Hermione. And so helpful to Ginny. You're practically my sister-in-law. And you deserve to have this shot at happiness, if it still exists. No one else should handle this case. You should be the one to bring him in. Bring Ron home."

Hermione allowed herself to break down then, flying to Harry's side and throwing her arms around him. "Harry... thank you!"

Harry's eyes were gentle. "You're welcome. I have made arrangements for a Portkey and transport. There is snow in that region and the castle looks abandoned with a structure that might be compromised, so be careful... Bring him home, Hermione."

Hermione didn't need to be told twice. Written instructions from Harry in hand, she dashed out the door.

Harry had arranged for the Portkey to come within a horse's bridle, attached already to a horse that would take Hermione across the snowy hills and drifts the rest of the way to the castle. Dressed in a hooded cloak, Hermione galloped on final approach towards the dilapidated structure, entering what looked like a front garden and racing into the castle defined by Gothic statues and blackened stone.

Following the passageways and with the assist of some advanced magic, Hermione entered the main wing of the castle, her wand picking up on a heat signature, indicating another, living presence. She eventually arrived on a stone balcony where, lying collapsed before her lay...

The body of a werewolf. Only the sounds of labored growls indicated that the beast was still alive. Fear in her eyes, Hermione rushed to the creature's side. He had been wounded, somehow; he might even be dying.

The fire of hope in Hermione's breast started to dim, her panic grew, as she bent over the beast to watch the light from his eyes begin to fade. His gaze intensified upon seeing her, almost as if he... recognized her. Was it possible...?

Fresh tears slipped down Hermione's cheeks. No! Fight! Don't give up! It took me so long to find you... "Please don't leave me!" she coached the werewolf. "Come back!" Heart breaking, she whispered, "Ron... if you're in there...I love you!" And she bent her face over his to plant a kiss on the beast's lips. A light rain fell over the pair...

Then the rain and the air started to shimmer with magic. A golden dust suddenly appeared and started to multiply, enveloping the beast entirely before lifting him off the ground.

Feeling the weight of the beast's body lift from her lap, Hermione looked up and gasped, seeing the golden haze swirling around his body. She rose and backed away, noticing that the air had become warmer, thicker. The werewolf's body became encased in the cloak about its neck and the animal squirmed beneath it. Then, quite suddenly, there was a flash of light, and the werewolf's outstretched paw turned into a human hand. Hermione stood, watching intently.

More bursts of golden light followed as the werewolf's features turned into human ones. A clawed foot became a human one. Finally, the monster's handsome face, defined with a mane, shivered in the accelerating wind. The hair was disappearing so that smooth skin took its place, and he at last became a human. Finally, even amidst the torrent of shimmering rain, he landed softly on the ground, the transformation complete.

Silence fell over the balcony.

Hermione hesitatingly approached from where she had retreated against the balcony railing, reaching out a hand, but shrank back when the human's body rose and fell sharply with a heavy breath. At last, the man stood, turning to face her.

Hermione gaped. It was him; she knew it the instant their gazes locked - those deep, blue eyes that she could lose herself into. He had grown older, and his fine head of red hair had grown longer, tumbling down to his shoulders.

Silently, Ron and Hermione approached each other. Ron's large, calloused hand caressed Hermione's cheek, as if he could not believe that she was real. Hermione's fingers danced over his temple. Her eyes filling with tears, she shakingly smiled even as she choked back a sob. "It is you!"

Hermione's heart felt like it would burst with joy. She knew, deep in her soul, that this was the man she had loved since she was a little girl, once again in the human form in which he belonged. And she knew, without hesitation, that she didn't want to waste another moment not being close to the one she loved. Blue eyes met brown, and then, as dawn broke over the horizon, they leaned forward and kissed. A long, slow kiss.

It was a kiss Hermione would never forget, just as she would never forget their very first down in the Chamber of Secrets all those years ago. It was a kiss better than any in all the Muggle fairy-tale books she had read as a child. It was a kiss full of apology, full of thankfulness and full of deep, deep love. It was a kiss full of enchantment. And as their lips met, that magic exploded from them - a whirlpool of blue light swirled around the couple, making Hermione's hair stand on end. Closing her eyes, she clasped Ron closer, and he did her, her hands sinking into his long red hair.

And as Ron and Hermione embraced and kissed, a single firework sailed upwards with a piercing shriek and exploded in the nighttime sky above the castle.

The marriage nuptials were scheduled immediately. If Hermione had ever thought about her wedding, she imagined her family and friends as witnesses, in a simple ceremony in front of the Burrow. She never, in her wildest dreams imagined getting just that, and a second, more ostentatious ceremony in the Ministry, presided over by the Minister of Magic himself. She didn't think she could be this happy. But she was - deliriously, wonderfully, blissfully happy.

Adorned in her bridal gown, Hermione raised her head to meet her husband's piercing blue eyes. Ron smiled down at her and she felt the familiar warmth of love shoot through her whole body, starting at her toes and traveling to the tips of her ears. Over the past few weeks since his return, she had found herself falling in love with Ron all over again and anew with each passing day, as she watched him embrace the life that had been denied him for so long.

And there is nothing more I could ever want. Except...

Feeling Hermione tense in his arms, Ron looked at his bride, his eyes narrow with worry. "Hermione..." he said. "What are you thinking?"

Hermione took a moment to consider her answer, and tried not to smile as Ron's expression grew more worried. Then, smirking, she reached up and ran a hand down his smooth cheek. "How would you feel about growing a beard?"

Ron blinked, thrown by the question, then let out a roar of laughter as he pulled Hermione closer. Leaning in, he kissed her. Hermione gave in to the magic of the kiss and kissed him back, knowing she and her true love would live happily ever after.