Disclaimer: Seriously, everything Harry Potter related here belongs to JK, and thank you very much for letting me explore her ideas.

This is my first work of fiction as many of you are about to find out. I read a lot of fan fiction and have always been content doing so, but a very inspirational quote in an interview told me that if I write something that I would enjoy reading, then I might very well enjoy the writing. Lame, I know, but here we are.

I beg your indulgence.

Non-stop Flight 784, 11:00 P.M.

"Are you alright, miss?" asked a kind voice beside her. "You look rather nervous."

Hermione Granger was clutching her armrests tightly.

"I haven't been on a plane in a while." Said Hermione, "Never thought I'd have to again."

He smiled. The man sitting besides Hermione could have been in his twenties, and looked very friendly.

"There's nothing to worry about." He said, "I fly all the time. Safest way to travel."
"Yeah," she said, "It's rather silly really. I'm usually the calm one."
"The calm one?"

"Guess you wouldn't know," She said airily, realizing that most people wouldn't know that she, Ron, and Harry were the inseparable trio. "I'm usually the calm one amongst my friends."

"Oh, I see," the man smiled, "Is this pleasure trip or business?"

"Actually, it's a little bit of both." She said, "I'm kind of taking a risk."

"That's admirable."

"Yeah?"

8:53 P.M. Grandpré Flat. April 4th

"You will not believe the day I just had, Hermio-"

Ron stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes widened. He had just come home late from work and had not expected the sight in front of him.

Hermione had been waiting with the utmost patience.

"Whoa."

Hermione Granger had just walked out of the bedroom in their 7th floor flat in some incredibly sexy black lingerie. Ron eyed the shape of her curves, grinning broadly. Hermione adjusted her body against the wall invitingly.

"I've been waiting for you all day long." She proclaimed in a most un-hermione-ish way. She had to remind herself, to well, not be herself.

She knew Ron was thinking, what did I do to deserve this, and she decided to move on with her intial course of action.

"Bad Ron. Home late. Again."

Wow, these heels are killing me. Just keep walking.

"S-so sorry."

"I don't want to hear your apologies." She exclaimed as she took long strides towards him in her sexy black stilettos. "You're going to be punished."

Yes, that's right. You're still balanced.

"Punished?"

"Yes."

As easy as cake. As easy as cake. As easy…

"Ooo, I like being punished."

"Do you now?"

Ow, ow, ow. My feeeeeeeeet.

"I mean, er- I hate it? Don't punish me. Please. I can not take the punishing. It will hurt."

"Right then." Hermione said a little taken back. "Er—where was I? Right, right. So, you naughty boy—you know what, I'm just going to take these shoes off, they're absolutely killing me."

She slipped off her shoes.

"Ahem," she coughed and put on her incredibly sultry voice again. "Well, now that that's done, I can finally, er--- put my foot down."

"Yes?"

Hermione began to slide her foot up Ron's pant leg. It was not remotely sexy as they were both standing up and she had to bend her back awkwardly to do it.

"How do you like that?" She added, the sultryness dying out. "How do you—RON!"

He was giggling nervously as he looked at her scrumptiously, "No, it's just that—well, when I came home late today, I expected you to be mad. Glad that didn't work out. And you spent all that time getting all sexed for me, and this is all very exciting-"

Hermione shushed him. "I want this to be perfect." She gave him a stare that could melt the polar ice caps.

"Alright, then" said Ron, still grinning like an idiot. Hermione started towards him and began to kiss him. Then he paused and pulled back. "Wait, does that mean there's no dinner?"

"Ron!"

"I mean, I was working late—"

"Can we--?"

"So I couldn't really catch a bite to eat—"

"Can we focus?" She said as she tried kissing Ron again. "Dinner can wait."

"Oh!" said Ron happily, "That means there is dinner? Huzzah!"

Hermione toppled Ron down onto the couch, and put her knee onto his chest. "You. Are impossible."

"Isn't that what turns you on?" He snickered, pulling her in closer.

However, Hermione got up and walked to the bedroom.

It seemed the grin on Ron's face spread even further as he walked toward her and gave her the quickest peck on her lips.

She pulled away and began to blush. Hermione grabbed his arms and brought him into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. She walked over to their bamboo tree in the corner and tore off a branch. She gave it a whip as it came down with a crack!

"So, pet." She worded, "I would very much like for you to get down on your knees."

There was a moment of silence as Ron gulped and did what he was told. Ron normally didn't respond like that. But obviously the circumstances have changed.

"But what are you going to do to me?" he asked timidly, playing along.

"I saw you today. At the café. Chatting it up with Lavender Brown."

"What? N-no, I wasn't!"

"Don't lie to me!" She exclaimed brandishing her makeshift whip. "Do you know what happens to boys who lie?"

Ron's face turned redder and Hermione, who had not broken eye contact with Ron since he walked in, burst out in laughter. The two of them were in fits of giggles.

"Well, we tried," laughed Ron, "And you. You are looking incredibly sexy."

"Thanks." She said, "I guess we'll just have to tell Harry and Draco their ideas don't really work for us."

"I can't believe they enjoy that stuff." Said Ron, as Hermione helped him off the floor with her hand. "They're mental. But you know…you really are looking incredibly sexy."

Hermione started chuckling as Ron brought himself closer to her. She smiled at him as she gave him a very provocative kiss and brought him onto the bed.

"Come on," she said, "Let's go have some normal person sex."

Ron just grinned.

9:20 A.M. Residence. June 2nd

"..D-Dear?" Hermione heard her mother address her father.

"What is it?"

"There's a man here.."
"A man?"

Mr. Granger marched towards the door in anticipation.

"He says he's from a school called...Hogwest?"

"Hogwarts, madam." A sqeaky voice replied.

"Right, right."

From the top of the stairs, Hermione snuck a peek. This was indeed a peculiar man. She could understand her parents anxious tone. He was dressed in a gold suit and had to be the shortest man she had ever seen.

"He's here about that letter Hermione received last week."

9:21 P.M. Grandpré Flat. April 4th

"That was excellent." sighed Hermione.

Hermione gaped at Ron. She could tell something was bothering him. She could always tell, especially after the deed.

ER

"Much better without the whip," said Ron, "which, by the way, was ridiculous. Bamboo? Really?"

"It's called improv, you jerk," as she gave him a little slap, "And besides, you were afraid."

"I was not!" Ron retorted. "Like anyone could be afraid of that." He turned his head onto his side of the pillow and closed his eyes.

"So you're just going to sleep?" Hermione asked crossly.

"Oh, right." Ron turned and gave her a big hug and immediately got up and walked to the kitchen. "Your sexyness almost made me forget about dinner. I'm starving."

Hermione rolled her eyes and began, "Are you sure nothing's bothering you?"

Ron looked at her, a bit caught off guard. "No, nothing."

"You never finished what you were about to say." She interjected.

"Huh?"

"About the day" she interjected, "You walked in, and said 'You will not believe the day I just had'."

"Oh." Said Ron. "That."

"Is everything fine?"

"Yeah, no, it's just at work--" he smiled at Hermione. "You know what? We can talk about it tomorrow."

He moved into the kitchen and opened the oven door revealing a plate with a Cornish hen on it. "Oo…hen!" He already began stuffing it in his mouth while looking for a knife and fork.

"Here," Hermione declared as she handed him the proper utensils, "Don't be barbaric."

"Fanks, Hermeioneth!" He sat across from her at the kitchen counter on their bar stools and took a big gulp. "Don't have any pumpkin juice left, do we?"

She flicked her wand which was lying on the counter and poured him a glass.

Flash

"You wanted to see me?"

"Mr. Weasley," said a deep, firm voice, "Please have a seat.

Ron took a seat across from his boss.

Oh shit. This is probably about not showing up the past week. I knew I shouldn't have sent in that stupid clone from George's Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Shit, shit, fuck, fuck.

"I've been deeply concerned about the way this department has been run." Said his boss firmly, "And from what I understand, this department's current status is mostly your own doing."

Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

"Weasley." He stated. "Keep it up. I've just sacked the recent head of the auror department. And there's a vacancy."

Ron's eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat. He felt immensely relieved. Keep it up? There's a vacancy? "Sir," he asked quietly, "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"That's right," his bosses stern face broke into a smile, "Potter has been declared the new head."

Oh.

"That's bloody fantastic!" he was a little bit taken back. "Have you told him, yet?"

"Not yet, but soon." He said, "But there's another thing. An academy has been opened in America."

"An academy?"

"That's right," he responded. "And they asked me to recommend someone. So I showed them your profile and they think you're qualified. Now, Weasley, I normally don't let Americans take away my best men, but I am thinking about your future."
"You…are?" Ron couldn't help but smile a little. His best men?

"Yes, I am." He said, "And from what I can tell, this opportunity is exactly the kind of thing you need. The pay and the hours are much better, I'll admit. And Potter has been telling me you've been waiting for a sort of life change."

Ron didn't know what to say.

"There are a few catches though, Weasley." He said, "You'll be back on the occasion. A few times a year. I told you I don't let my best men get taken away. You'll still have your job here if you'll want it. Also, this isn't to be taken lightly. You aren't just teaching. You're going to be setting up a whole new correspondence over there. There's a lot of diplomacy involved. Understand?"

"Thank you, sir." He grinned.

The boss got up from behind his desk and walked around towards Ron.

"They'll need your answer by the end of this week."

Ron nodded and left the office.

Flashed

"So."

"So."

Hermione watched him for a moment. He was dribbling food all over his body. He'd have to take another shower.

Ron had grown since Hogwarts. He still had the big hands and feet, and was still tall and lanky, but more filled out, more adult.

"I got a job offer." Ron added quickly.

"What?" asked Hermione, "That's great!"

"Yeah, it is." He said

"You never said you were looking!"

"Well, it kind of sprung up on me."

"So…what is it?"

"It's a teaching job."

Hermiones brows bent inwards. "A teaching job?"

"My boss recommended me to some blokes at this academy. Apparently, the pay is better and so are the hours. And I get to set up a whole new department there and teach and train aurors."

"Oh," Hermione said, her voice showing question, "…but?"

"…but?"

"Well, you obviously haven't told me everything," she said quickly, "Something has been bothering you."

"Oh…" he responded softly, "It's in America."

"W-what?" chortled Hermione, startled, "The U.S.? B-but that's not…here."

There was silence.

"When would you start?" said Hermione, refusing to look Ron in the eye.

"June." Ron replied. "It'll be just for a year."

"A YEAR? But won't they need you at the Auror department?" she said, "You were saying yourself the other day how understaffed it was."

Hermione was doing her best to stay controlled.

"I know. If I take the job, I'll come on the occasion and plus Harry's been promoted to the Head and they're going to start--"

"Harry's been promoted?" she asked.

"Yeah, apparently they liked the way things were being run, but also weren't. I'm kind of confused on the subject myself."

"Well, why weren't you promoted?" she snapped, not controlling her own emotions "Why can't Harry go teach at that sodding school?"

"I dunno," Ron said, feeling Hermione's sudden anger, "Harry's just better I guess.."

"Don't give me that." She retorted, "You've been using the same excuse since you MET Harry. You're not in Hogwarts anymore and you're not second best to Harry."

"Well, maybe they just prefer Harry," said Ron, angrily, "Doesn't everyone?"

"I don't!" she said, "And I don't see why you have to be the one to go over there. I mean, if anything, Harry's qualified to go over there and handle the affairs, that's a lot of responsibility--"

"Oh, I see." He said, his anger rising with every word, "It's not that I'm good enough to be Head over here, it's just that Harry would be better at the job they just offered me!"

"Harry is the one that defeated Voldemort, you know?" she said, "He ought to be the one that's setting up a ministry contact! He's got the experience—and the field skills!"

"So, really I'm just not qualifi--"

"No, that's not what I mean--"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, "That Harry is a better auror? That I should be the one stuck to the desk job because I'd be more likely to mess things up over there? Or simply that I don't deserve it as much as Harry?"

"Maybe you don't!" she said, "They just shouldn't have offered you the job!"

Hermione grabbed a coat from her closet and set out towards the door.

"Hermione!" he cried at her as she left the flat, "Where are you going?" He trailed after her as her watched her run down the stairs.

Tears trickled off her face as she flung open the door and apparated immediately, not knowing or caring where it would take her.

9:41 A.M. Residence. June 2nd

"So…she's a witch," said Hermione's mother.

"And that means…she's a witch," said Hermione's father.

"That's correct," squeaked the tiny man.

"But we're not…magick…y" said her father, obviously dazed.

"Many muggles often have children that are born as witches or wizards," explained the man.

"Muggles?" asked her mom, not understanding quite what the man was saying.

"Oh, that's our term for non-magical folk, like yourselves." He offered.

'Right." Said the mother, "So Professor Flitswhilst--"

"Flitwick," the man said.

"Yes, Professor Flitwick," she started again, "Is there anyway our daughter…might not be…or to say, is there anyway you might have made a mistake? Our daughter has never shown magical tendencies."

This was not true entirely, as the mother knew, for when Hermione was only 2, she had fallen out of her mother's arms into a very hard cobblestone walk with barely a scratch and not a tear in her eye. And when Hermione was just 6, when she had really wanted to go to the fair, she had somehow ended at the top of the ferris wheel, screaming for her mother to bring her down. Even a couple years ago, when her mother accidentally spilled sauce all over her daughter's poster project, the poster had almost deflected the sauce completely going every on the table, but the poster.

10:01 A.M. Gnillwork J Terrace. June 2nd

"Harry? Harry…" Draco Malfoy said anxiously, "You're crushing me."

"Mmmm." Harry replied, "Erm sleeping."

He was gently trying to push Harry off of him. It was getting a little hard to breathe with the well-muscled body of Harry Potter holding him so tightly. Draco couldn't help but admit he enjoyed it, especially the warmth and knowledge knowing he'd always wake up in Harry's arms.

But seriously. I just want to sleep.

"Harry, dear." He said as sweetly as possible, "Can you pleeeeeeeease move over a bit?"

"Draco, I'm trying to sleep." Mumbled a very tired Harry Potter, "Could you please do that outside?"

Draco looked insulted.

"Harry Potter, if you do not wake up, I will not do what I promised to do as a gift for your promotion."

Harry sat up immediately. "No, but you promised!"

Draco loved when Harry sounded like that vulnerable little kid.

"Well, I'm going to need you to move over. Now."

"But you're so soooft." Said Harry smiling hugging Dravo gently and snuggling his neck, "And warm. And besides, you won't let Mr. Branton in bed."

"He creeps me out!" said Draco, "The way he stares at me…"

"Mr. Branton does not stare at you. He's a stuffed bear." Said Harry, "Besides, if you let him in bed then I'd have something else to hold."

"But I do want you to hold me," said Draco, "Just without the heavy duty squeezing."

"I can't help it." Said Harry innocently, "I really, really like you."

"Cute." Said Draco sardonically (although he was giggling like a schoolgirl on the inside), "But—what was that?"

"Huh?" said Harry, "I didn't hear anything."

"SHH!" he said, "Listen!"

They made no noise trying to pinpoint a sound. The rain was hitting the window rather fiercely and it began to thunder.

"It was probably the thunder, Draco," Harry said, "You worry too much."

"It sounded like something dropped or something was moving." Draco replied, "Check Mr. Branton."

"Oh my god, you're crazy," he said, "Everytime you think someone's in our flat, you make me check Mr. Branton. He's just a bear! He's not staring at you or trying to do you in."

"Can you just check him?"

"Why don't you check him," giggled Harry.

"I'm not going near that devil bear."

"Alright, alright…"

Harry got out of bed, half naked, and started towards his closet. He opened it up and in the top shelf pulled down a perfect normal stuffed bear.

Draco was eyeing it intensely. Harry just rolled his eyes.

"See?" said Harry, "There is absolutely nothing--"

A loud thump was heard.

"What was that?!" cried Draco, "Ohmygodohmygod."

Harry advanced out of his bedroom, taking Draco's hands, "Come on, we're checking together."

Draco shook his head.

"Do you want to be alone in this room with Mr. Branton?"

Draco immediately got to his feet and followed Harry into their living space.

"I think the thump came from the kitchen,"

"Turn on the lights!"

"The electricity is out." He said, "Must be the weather."

"Can't trust muggles for anything," said Draco, "Get your wand!"

"Oh right," said Harry, he grabbed his wand off the kitchen counter, "Lumos!"

The light from the end of the wand lit up the kitchen.

"Looks like nothings there," said Harry, "Well, we'll just go back to--"

"Why is the pantry door ajar?" said Draco, crouching behind Harry.

They stared at it for a bit. A human could easily fit into that space. Harry walked towards it slowly, his wand at hand.

"Homenum Revelio!"

Harry jumped. "There's someone there.." he whispered to Draco.

"Wait a sec," said Draco. He grabbed a pot from off the stove for protection. "Ok, now go."

Harry took his foot and gave the door a push with it as it flew open and

BANG BANG BANG

Draco screamed so loudly and with such a shrill that he could have taken out a basilisk in a single shot.

"Draco!" said Harry, "There's no one there, that's just the door."

"WELL, WHO COULD BE AT THE DOOR AT THIS HOUR," screamed Draco trembling.

"Shh!" said Harry, "Stop screaming!"

Harry went to the door, Draco with the pot still at hand, and opened it.

There stood a very wet Hermione, her eyes puffy and startled.