AN: Ok. Obviously, I updated much sooner than I'd anticipated.
It's just, this story kept swimming up to the top of my brain. I had no ideas for one of my fanfics, and the other got updated yesterday. So, really, what could I do? After getting home at a glorious ten, P.M. of course, I decided to sit down and put it out there. Well, after dinner, a shower, and surfing YouTube, but eventually, I did do just that. It's a little different from the last chapter. I know you probably won't be satisfied with Hermione's answers any more than Harry, but know that I don't think I will ever fully explain what happened to Hermione during her mysterious time off – though you will get a rough idea. Also, this isn't just reactions to her coming back. It'll be rebuilding the pieces that she left behind (corny as that sounds). So it'll most likely be a pretty long fic, if things go as planned.
That said, time to answer the anons!
krazz – I'm not sure what Ron has been up to will be as important as how he's changed in their time apart. But I will throw in some in some stuff about what he does. You'll get a taste this chapter, in fact, though a very small one.
Disclaimer: I'm a sad, poor, lonely student just trying to pay that tuition. Don't sue me, if you please.
Hermione had a very strong feeling that a door was about to be slammed in her face.
Pure, unadulterated shock seemed to be on her side. Harry was staring at her as if she were a tree come to talk about the pitfalls of living with squirrels. Ginny seemed to think that she was having a rather comprehensive dream. She kept blinking her eyes rapidly, and Hermione was fairly sure she saw her lower her hand and surreptitiously pinch herself.
For her part, Hermione simply wanted to run. She wanted to run away and pretend she had never come back in the first place. What had she been thinking, dredging up their front steps, dirty and worn, looking for a place to stay after three years without a word to them? If she were in their place, what would she have done?
Knowing full well the answer to this, she began to stutter. "I don't know what I was ... I shouldn't be here, I know ... I – I should just get ..."
"No." Ginny's eyes were as wide as dinner plates, and her voice held a note of disbelief. "Come in. Hermione."
Harry's mouth shaped the word "Hermione" silently.
The instinct to get inside – outside is open, outside is unprotected, outside is asking for someone to find you – was simply too strong. Head hung, Hermione shuffled past Ginny and Harry, her bag dragging behind her like a tail between her legs.
She stood in their living room awkwardly. She couldn't see all the things that had stayed the same for all the things that were different. Her eyes avoided the pictures on the lintel and shelves the most.
Automatically, she let her wand slide down from its resting place up her sleeve and into her waiting hand. With a murmur and a flick, the room's lights enhanced and dimmed back down. Hermione gave the room a quick glance around, stopping when she caught the expressions on Harry and Ginny's faces.
She couldn't help the blush that flamed on her cheeks. The same precautions that kept her alive now felt like showy overkill. Once again, she was the brightest witch of the year, eager to show off how much more she knew than the rest of the class.
The silence was broken with a noise that sounded like a mouse being trodden on. Hermione realized, with a start, that it had come from Harry.
Ginny stepped forward and pointed towards the couch, her movements almost mechanical. "Sit."
Hermione sat.
Ginny glance around, as if unsure where to go. Jerkily, she made her way to the giant armchair to the right of the sofa and lowered herself into it with a shaky sigh. Harry made another odd noise, a laughing sort of hiccup, and sat down where he stood, dropping his head into his hands.
"Where have you been?" Ginny asked dully.
Blunt questions first. Already, Hermione was going to disappoint them. "I can't tell you," she nearly whispered, gazing down at her feet.
For the first time, Harry spoke, his head still in between his hands. "What?"
"I can't tell you." Hermione rubbed her forehead anxiously. "You know I would if I could, but ... it's really, really important that I don't."
"You can't." Now Harry's head was up. He fixed Hermione with a burning stare, so intense she wanted to look away. She'd forgotten he could do that.
Abruptly, Harry stood up and turned to his wife. "Ginny, I think you should go."
"Wait ... what?" Ginny's head snapped around to meet her husband's eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I need to talk to Hermione alone." Harry smiled at her, a combination of incredulity and apology. "I'm sorry. I just ... have to."
Ginny blazed up in protest for a moment; next second, her shoulders were hunched in defeat. "Of course," she remarked dryly. "But only for a few minutes, Harry. You and Ron aren't the only ones who need explanations." With that ominous announcement, Ginny swept from the room, her hair swinging wildly in protest.
Hermione desperately wanted to speak, but she had absolutely no idea what she could say. It seemed like whatever leniency she may have been allowed by the mystery surrounding her disappearance had been broken when she couldn't give Harry the one answer he wanted to hear.
Harry didn't seem to quite know what to do either. He opened his mouth, then shut it. Opened it again; shut it with a scratchy chuckle and shake of his head. Then he managed a word.
"Pig!"
That seemed a bit rich, calling her names at a time like that. Annoyed, Hermione opened her mouth to tell him so when a small, old owl came fluttering into the room.
"Expecto Patronum!" A rush of silver light flew at the bird, then simmered down. With a loud call, Pig flew once around the room, and then out an open window.
Catching Hermione's puzzled look, Harry waved vaguely. "If you use an owl, the Patronus can carry a longer message. Ron and George figured it out, with a bit of experimenting."
Hermione nodded, very impressed. "George always did know more than he let on at school."
"Yeah." Harry narrowed his eyes at her. "You left."
Once upon a time, Hermione would have flung herself into Harry's arms. She would have cried into his shoulder about how she hadn't really wanted to, but how much good she had done and how much of a difference she had made, and she would never, never do it again.
Instead, she squared up her shoulders and met him head-on. "If I'd thought I had another choice, you know I wouldn't've."
"I don't really know that much about you anymore, honestly." Harry ran a hand through his wild hair, touching his scar in the process. "I haven't heard from you in three years, you see."
Hermione clenched her hands together. "Remember when Sirius was on the run, how he couldn't have Hedwig coming to every place he was at? Well, it was sort of like that. Where we were, they used a different kind of bird, so you using an owl would have been conspicuous. Not to mention, they didn't want us having contact." She smirked hollowly. "Too much chance we'd let something slip through our sheer collective stupidity."
"Stop that!" Out of no where, Harry patience had ended. He looked like he wanted to hit something or blow something up, and was barely holding back. "Stop talking about ... whatever it was you were doing. If you can't just tell me, don't dangle details out in front of me. I thought you were better than that, Hermione."
She took a deep breath in. "I'm not trying to do that. I'm not used to not talking about it, yet." She added, matter-of-factly, "I missed you the whole time. You and Ron and Ginny, most of all."
Harry snorted loudly through his nose. "Yeah? Well, we've been having a smashing time here. Sure, we had no idea where you were, what you were doing, or whether you were even still alive."
Her voice was almost inaudible when she replied. "I'm sorry. What can I say?"
"I can't think of one damn thing that would make this right, if you want the truth," Harry said forcefully. His wand was still out from when he had performed the Patronus. His fingers ran up and down its length absentmindedly, making the end spark. "How did you think this was going to go?"
The sudden laugh surprised him. "I thought it would be far worse," she informed him, grinning wryly. "Nobody's cursed me yet."
This new take on the situation seemed to stump Harry into silence.
Hermione decided that giving Harry time to think of new ways to yell at her wasn't really the best idea. "Who did you send the owl to?"
"Ron."
Everything in Hermione froze. "Ron?" she squeaked unhappily.
Harry's glare went right through her. "Ron should have been the first to know," he said, voice hard.
Hermione nodded again, a bit weaker. "He moved," she offered.
"Can you blame him?"
Breathe in. Out. Calm. "No. Of course not."
Harry looked lost. "I can't do this without him."
Hermione looked sick. "I can't do this with him."
He wasn't supposed to see her like this. She was supposed to be clean, for one thing. She was supposed to be rested and well-dressed and prepared.
More than anything else Hermione had said, this made Harry soften. He grinned at her a little. "Still?"
"Always." She rubbed her forehead again, until the skin reddened angrily.
Again, Harry opened his mouth as if there was something he needed to say, but apparently thought the better of it. Ignoring the questioning quirk of Hermione's eyebrow, he simply leaned back on the wall behind him.
Thankfully, there was a reason they were best friends. He only let Hermione suffer for a few more moments before answering the unspoken question. "He's not seeing anyone now, as far as I know."
"Oh." So he had seen someone, but was currently single. This wasn't altogether comforting. She had been gone long enough that he could've had a real relationship with someone. That would be almost as bad as coming home to find him married.
Hermione wiped her sweaty palms on her faded jeans, which didn't do either a speck of good.
"OI! HARRY!"
A cold sweat broke out in beads all across Hermione's face. Ron was there.
AN: Ah, the cliffhanger. Evil to read. Fun to write. Hope you all still like this whole thing. It was a bit longer than the last chapter, and I expect the next one will be longer still. I mean, Ron will be involved, and we all know that's what we've been waiting for. I will work very hard so as not to disappoint. Love? Hate? Review!