The party is in full swing, students and their parents are roaming about the store as well as all of our friends and family. The place is packed with laughing adults and children and I'm sure Fred wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

"Oi, Ron!" I turn to find Seamus and take his outstretched hand. "Great party! Really feels like the old days! How did you guys get the shop looking so good? I thought everything was destroyed."

"Yeah, well it took a lot of work," I answer as I sip my Firewhisky.

"So, congrats, lad, you finally bagged Granger! Is it as great as it looks?" he asks wagging his eyebrows. I glance over my shoulder and spot her. She's helping some young kids sort through the spelling quills, no doubt helping them find the ones she charmed. I smile, typical.

"Yeah, it's good, mate."

"Well, must be good for her too, she's here 'in she?" he laughs and clinks his glass to mine.

"What d'you mean?"

"I mean, you must have her wrapped around your finger, or something else, ha!" he clinks my glass again. "Why else would Hermione Granger be working at WWW? She's probably been offered the Ministry of Magic's position by now!" he laughs loudly, clearly amused with himself.

"Yeah," I mumble as he leaves to follow Lavender who just walked by. I look over at Hermione who's now talking with Kingsley. I throw back the rest of the Firewhisky in my glass and find myself a refill. She must have been offered all sorts of positions. I know the three of us were offered training positions in the Auror Department, and it's almost funny because growing up I didn't want anything more, except maybe to play professional Quidditch, than to join the Department. But now I feel like I've had enough fighting bad guys for a lifetime.

I don't know why I never assumed Hermione would be offered a ton of jobs, especially after we took our N.E.W.T.s. I mean, obviously, I bombed mine, and I'm not sure Harry did much better, but Hermione, she aced them. And I don't mean like she did better than Harry and I, I mean she got O's.

I look over at her again, and it's as if I'm seeing her for the first time. Why is she here? Why is she working at WWW when she could have any job she wants? Is it me?

I drain my drink, pour myself a new one, and find myself a stool that I can pull over into a dark corner. And then I sit here and watch her.

I never really understood why she's stayed with me this whole time. And now it seems, not only am I holding her back from some good-looking, rich, perfect guy-someone like Harry-but I'm also holding her back from a career. What kind of selfish prat am I?

Every sip of Firewhisky I take makes me see clearer and clearer. My belly is warm and I finally see things for the way they are. Ronald Weasley, git of the decade, tricks the brightest witch of the age into complete career suicide.

"Ron. What you're telling me is that you tore apart our relationship because of something Seamus Finnigan said at a party?" She's looking at me like I'm an insane person.

"No! Hermione, what I'm trying to explain is just what I thought! I mean, can you really blame me for thinking that I was holding you back from a career that was obviously waiting for you?" I ask getting a little upset.

"Yes! Yes, I can Ron, because you weren't holding me back! Did you honestly think I was planning on working at the Wheezes for the rest of my life? Of course I was going to take a job at the Ministry eventually! I just needed time to breathe for one bloody moment!" She throws her hands up in the air before realizing that she's close to shouting and she leans over the table. "Ron, I don't mean to sound harsh in any way, but our relationship wasn't going to hold me back from anything." She leans back in the booth and takes a sip of her wine.

"Well, I guess the point is, Hermione that whatever the reason, I'm so incredibly sorry for what I did that night. And I just want you back in my life, I'm miserable without you." I try to take her hand but she snatches it away.

"You've been miserable? Oh, you poor thing! You're so miserable that it took you a year to try and see me? You didn't look so miserable on Friday night with your girlfriend!"

"Whoa, wait, Hermione. First of all, she's not my girlfriend. Second of—"

"Oh, please, Ronald! The least you can do is not lie to me. I saw pretty clearly that that woman is not just your friend."

"She is! I know she kissed me that night but that was it! I took her out to celebrate her promotion at WWW and she thought it was something more. Its not. And she knows that now. End of story." I feel like I might melt under Hermione's glare. I can tell she knows I'm telling the truth, but she doesn't like being wrong. "And I did try to see you nearly everyday, for a long time, Hermione." I let go of my defensive tone. "I couldn't get anywhere near you. Until this weekend at the pub."

-Hermione's POV-

The barrage of information and the sheer proximity of Ron have my head feeling fuzzy. I can't think. I can't focus. The woman is not Ron's girlfriend. Ron does not have a girlfriend. Ron is sitting in front of me asking me to take him back. It's as if my fantasies have all come true, but the scars on my heart aren't healed yet.

"How do I know it would be any different?" I ask quietly after a long moment's silence. "It's been a long year, Ron."

"Hermione," he leans as close as he can over the table, but he doesn't try to take my hand again. "After I realized I couldn't get anywhere close to you, I spent every ounce of energy I had on setting myself straight. I've been working towards this Auror position for nearly six months, getting the shop organized and what not. Drinking heavily is not going to happen again. The only thing I can do to prove it to you is promise, and show you. But you have to give me a chance."

"You've made me promises before," my broken heart whispers more to myself than to Ron.

"Hermione, please," I look up at his strangled voice to see tears in his eyes. "Please give me a chance. I know I don't deserve it, after all I've put you through, but I want to make it up to you. We should be together…" he offers up as if there's no other way to explain. And the silly thing is, I understand.

"I have to think on it, Ron. I can't make this decision right now, it's too much."

"Okay," and he livens up a bit. "However much time you need."

I sip my wine and our dinner arrives and we eat in a silence that seems to grow friendlier and more comfortable by the second. How familiar this feels, how right. I want this back in my life.

"So, what are you doing this weekend?" Ron asks after swallowing a mouthful of chicken. "'Cuz I've got tickets to the Cannons-Puddlemere match and I was gonna take George, but you're much nicer to look at," he says grinning. "And I know you don't like Quidditch much but I thought it might be a good way for us to spend some time together, as friends, you know while you think about things…"

I open my mouth to respond before I suddenly remember my date with Jonathon. What team did he say we were going to see? Something United…how many Quidditch matches are there in a weekend? Now that I think on it I'm positive it was Puddlemere United. I clear my throat.

"Well, actually, I'm already going to that game," I shove some broccoli into my mouth gain some time before he asks—

"With who?"

"It's a date actually," I say after I finish chewing. "One of Cynthia's friends."

"You're going on a date?" I expected him to be angry but he actually looks quite put-down. I feel the urge to explain, even though I know I don't owe him an explanation.

"I agreed to it before I spoke with you today. She's been trying to get me to meet this guy for a while and after the other night…" I trail off, realizing I don't want to explain this at all, especially to Ron.

"Oh," he says simply. "So you've never met him before?"

"No."

"Alright," and just like that he continues to shovel food down his throat. I stare at him for a minute before thinking I shouldn't question it and I return my attention to my plate.

After dinner we stand outside in front of the alley that borders the Broomsticks. There's not too many people about, being a Monday night. It's wonderfully warm and I breathe in the spring air.

"It's a nice night," I say, eyes closed, taking in the rare weather. When I open them I find Ron staring at me with a look in his eyes that is all too familiar. He steps closer and I force myself to take a step backwards. It's no use, however, because he takes another step and grabs my hand. A warm wave surges in my abdomen as he stoops down, lowering his height to mine.

"Hermione," he breathes. "When will I see you again?" I gulp and my breathing picks up.

"I don't know," I manage to say.

"Soon I hope," he says before lowering his face to mine. I close my eyes and for a split second realize I'm not going to stop him. His lips find my cheek and linger there for a moment before he pulls away. "Apparate safely. See you 'round," he says and when I open my eyes he's smirking at me and then he's gone.

I stand there for a moment, just letting my heart rate reduce to a normal level, and I can't help but feel…disappointed. And I'm a little ashamed of myself for letting him have such power over me, but at the same time a make a mental note: See Ron Weasley again, as soon as possible.