Chapter One- All We Know Is Falling
Hermione stepped out the warm green flames of the fireplace, brushing the ashes from her travelling cloak.
"Evanesco," she muttered and the ash she hadn't managed to get rid of vanished into thin air.
She shook her curly brown hair out behind her and stepped more clearly into the her well lit kitchen. It was so cluttered with dirty and clean dishes and a large stack of robes had just been dumped into the laundry basket. Broken quills, broomstick twigs and all manner of junk littered the kitchen floor and silence seemed to almost flutter through the open door, unnerving her.
Sighing, she said, "Scourgify," and the kitchen became instantly tidy.
"Ron!" she called. "Ron!" When she got no answer, she bustled through into the sitting room, hair flying behind her, cloak fluttering around her small feet.
Lounged on the settee, lay her long-term boyfriend, Ronald Bilius Weasley, also known to her as just plain old Ron. His red hair looked tousled and windswept, his freckles more prominent in his flushed face. Quidditch, she thought to herself.
"Ron," she said softly.
He turned his head to face her and his deep brown eyes became fixed.
"Hi 'Mione," he smiled lazily. "Good day at the office?"
"Nothing too spectacular really. Regulations and committee meetings, all that jazz. Been flying back and forth like I don't know what! You?" she asked, moving to sit next him. She leant down gently and kissed his lips softly. They were chapped.
Ron smiled. "Not too bad really for a day off. Harry and Ginny popped over for a while this afternoon. You just missed them actually".
Hermione frowned. "I didn't know they were coming over. Otherwise, I would have invited them over for dinner. You don't think it's too late, do you?"
"Try it," Ron mumbled hastily, sitting up swiftly and headed upstairs. Hermione watched him leave, shook her head ("Men," she thought), and headed to the desk in the corner. Picking up her favourite eagle feather quill, she straightened a clean fresh piece of parchment and wrote:
Dear Harry and Ginny,
How are you both? Ron mentioned you had popped over this afternoon and I'm quite upset that I didn't get to see you today, what with working nine until five like I do lately. Work seems to have taken over, it's like third year all over again, eh Harry?
I simply thought that if you hadn't got anything planned for tonight, then maybe you'd like to join us for dinner, about seven? I'm sure Ron would love to see you both again and we need to have a proper catch up.
Reply as soon as possible.
All my love,
Hermione
She addressed it and headed back to the kitchen, quickly sending the letter by the Floo Network, then set to making herself a nice hot cup of tea. Sipping it in her favourite armchair, by the stove, she smiled to herself.
Thinking back, Hermione was very lucky. Lucky that she had a quaint little home, a lifestyle that the Ministry would finally allow her to have (as a Mudblood, they didn't care so much about her), a cosy little job at the Ministry and a caring, loving partner who-
A letter zoomed out of the fireplace, catching her expertly on the nose.
"Ouch! Paper-cut! Stupid letter!" she growled. It continued to flutter until she put the tea down, grabbed it smartly and ripped it open, reading it hungrily
"What?" she murmured.
Dear Hermione,
We're both fine, we've been so bogged down with work too, so naturally we haven't had time to catch up, or see Ron for that matter. Stupid fool, don't know what he meant. You know what my brother's like. Really sorry, but we've already got dinner sorted out and I'm not sure when we can see you.
Maybe this weekend we could head to The Leaky Cauldron, grab a few drinks and a meal? Let us as soon as possible.
Take care now.
Love Ginny and Harry
Hermione reread the letter again and again. She stood up to go ask Ron what he was on about, when another note came flying at her. Ducking the letter, she grabbed it from the air and tore it open.
Dearest Won Won,
I'm working tomorrow so maybe you'd like to come see me on my lunch break? You'd be more than welcome.
Your Lav Lav
She screwed that note up, completely fuming, angry at everything. She had been the cleverest witch in her year and she could not have believed this. The tousled bed-head hair, the flushed face, the chapped lips, the absence, the mess, the lie, this… This letter!
Lavender. There was only one Lavender they knew, and that was Lavender Brown, the former Gryffindor and Ron's ex-girlfriend. What could she-? No, she didn't want to believe this. Lavender must simply have an infatuation with Ron, that's all. After all these years…
"Confringo," she muttered, prodding the note with her wand.
Still fuming, Hermione set out to start dinner for her and… And Ron. She summoned her ingredients and began roasting a small joint of meat, while the small vegetables began scrubbing and cooking themselves.
It was a good thing the kitchen was warm. Nobody would notice she had been crying.
