(A/N: Thank you to Splash1 for being such an awesome beta.)

Even Strangers Could See

The envelope was the finest example of frill and femininity, something she was sure the bride had nothing to do with. The silver calligraphy shimmered as she moved it in the light and a smile graced her lips as she read the names again.

"About bloody time," she said to the inky black tabby cat curled up on the kitchen chair.

She threw herself down on a second chair and scratched the cat behind his ears.

"Nothing in this world is sadder than two people who can't see what they've got, eh Soot? Well I suppose they've figured it out before it's too late."

Stretching in her chair, she let her mind drift back to the first time she had met them. Just children then, though not very much younger than they were now, they'd already been through more than someone of their limited years should have suffered. She remembered thinking how difficult it must have been for them. All they wanted to do was finish school and find their way in the world, while at the same time the world sought to destroy their dreams and futures before they even had a chance to develop. Seeing them was refreshing, they knew such evil, but retained their childish innocence.

The first time she saw them, she'd arrived early for an Order meeting and was in the kitchen having tea with Molly.

"If you do it one more time Ronald, I'll hex you," the young girl shrilled, marching after a gangly redhead in a tattered jumper. "Do you hear me? Don't you touch him again!"

"I told you to keep that ruddy cat out of my room. He's been eyeing Pig like he hasn't eaten in weeks. I don't want to lose another pet to that thing."

Her mouth hung open in honest shock.

"Wormta-," she stopped, almost biting her tongue. "Scabbers was not Crookshanks' fault and you know that. He was trying to protect us."

Ron threw his hands up in defeat. "Alright, alright, I won't kick him again. Just keep him away from my owl."

Hestia's eyes moved quickly from the door through which the quarreling pair had just left to Molly's knowing grin. Smiling back, she said nothing.

As the weeks passed and meetings became more frequent, Hestia found it quite entertaining to watch this magnificent dance. Perfectly choreographed to show the viewer exactly what was going on inside the dancers' heads, but so subtle that the dancers themselves seemed oblivious to the motions.

Their quarrels were simple, yet fought with such passion that it appeared as if the future of the world relied on the outcome.

One particular row she recalled had centered on a book that Hermione insisted Ron had taken, but later found in the bottom of her school trunk.

"I told you."

"Yes you did."

"But you had to keep at it. You insisted I had to have moved it."

"Well, I had seen it last while you were straightening in the second floor study."

"And that means it had to be me that lost it."

"It seemed like a reasonable explanation at the time."

"Reasonable doesn't make it right, does it Hermione. Where did you find it?"

"Ron, really, do we have to…"

"Where did you find it?"

"In my trunk."

"And who has access to your trunk?"

"Only me."

"Because?"

The two carried on steadily, oblivious to their large audience. Following a lengthy meeting about how to best procure Harry from the Dursley's, Ron's family and various Order members had adjourned to the sitting room for tea where they now sat in silence as the exchange continued.

"Because it's been enchanted to open only for me since first year."

"So reasonably, who had to have put it in your trunk?"

"Me."

"Which means?"

"You didn't misplace it."

"Which is what I told you three days ago."

She closed the large tome on her lap with a great huff. "Yes I know! I WAS WRONG!"

She punctuated each word as if it were taking all of her strength to speak them.

Ron stood in stunned silence as Hermione buried her flustered face in the giant book dominating her lap.

"Well," Ron stammered, "alright then."

A stifled giggle spread through the room like a virus, passing from person to person, becoming more contagious and severe as it traveled.

By the time it passed from Molly to Hestia they were holding their sides in hysterics.

"One thing you can say for her," Hestia commented after Ron and Hermione had fled the room in opposite directions. "She knows how to shut him up."

"That she does," Molly giggled. "No one can silence my Ron like Hermione can."

Things had gone on this way for the rest of the summer, with the later weeks seeing Ron starting fights more often as Harry's presence usurped Hermione's attention.

When summer ended, the pair went off to school and Hestia only heard of them during afternoon tea with Molly or random meetings at the Ministry with Arthur.

When she was given surveillance detail in Diagon Alley the following summer, she once again found herself with a front row seat for the dance she knew as Ron and Hermione. Things had changed over the school year; Hestia could see that. Their arguments were more deliberate, intended to entice a reaction from the other, rather than prove their own point. There was more tenderness and bashfulness there too. Ron was a sight when Hermione made him blush, which seemed to occur with increasing frequency. Hermione was also no longer the blatantly bossy girl she had been the summer before. She offered guidance and advice wherever she felt appropriate, but it now seemed to be in Ron's best interest instead of her constant need to be right.

Another school year had passed before Hestia had seen them again. Hestia felt somewhat guilty for noticing the pair that day. She was attending the funeral of a dear friend and mentor; she should have been mourning, not people watching. Still, she couldn't help but notice. There was such poignant beauty in the way he comforted her. She couldn't help but feel that the moment shared by this young pair was something Dumbledore himself would have stopped to notice.

She did not see them again after that. Shortly after the funeral, the world fell apart and Ron and Hermione's wonderful dance disappeared from view. She heard very little of the pair during the chaos of the second war. What she did hear was highly suspect. The last time anyone had seen them was the night of Ron's older brother's wedding, an event Hestia had missed for her assignment of Muggle-sitting Harry's atrocious family. Rumor was that shortly after the death of the late Minister Scrimgeour, a party of Death Eaters crashed the reception. In the excitement, Harry, Ron and Hermione had disappeared. The initial suspicion was that the three had fled together, but in the weeks that followed, the stories began to fly.

Ron, word had it, would not be attending Hogwarts that year due to an unfortunate case of Spattergoit. Sources reported that Hermione and her family had disappeared without a trace, and that Harry, 'Undesirable Number One', was on the run. As time progressed, the rumors alleged that Harry and Hermione were on the run together, leaving faithful sidekick Ron to suffer his ailment alone.

"More scandal about the boy, eh," Harry's Uncle Vernon had said one day while reading the Prophet over her shoulder.

"Word about Harry," Petunia had said, almost sounding worried. "What does it say?"

"Nothing of consequence," Vernon shrugged. "Someone spotted him and that girlfriend of his."

"Girlfriend?" Hestia scoffed.

"You know, the frizzy-haired girl with the big teeth."

Hestia had to excuse herself to the loo for a laugh. She couldn't believe that she had finally met someone more clueless than Ron and Hermione. Hermione with Harry, it was laughable. Even if one took Ron out of the picture, Harry and Hermione were like brother and sister at the most.

When the war ended, the truth had surfaced that the trio had successfully escaped on the night of the wedding and had been, as Hestia always assumed, together the entire time. When the smoke cleared and the trio was left standing, Ron and Hermione were standing together.

Remembering all of this, it came as no surprise to Hestia that she was receiving this invitation. The dance had been going on for years now and it was reaching an expected, exciting new phase. The song was changing and the dancers were now aware of their motions, finally noticing for themselves what even strangers could see.