The rest of week proceeded as before except Ginny refused to come to Heathgate if she might run into her father. Harry was never so happy to see a Friday evening in his life. Hermione and Mr. Weasley finished the upstairs bathroom and it looked great. Saturday was spent getting the rest of the house ready for the engagement announcement on Sunday. Ron and Harry were surprised that Hermione wasn't quite so frantic about it this time.

When Sunday arrived, Hermione expanded both the dining room and the parlor. Kreacher had come to make dinner and about four o'clock various Weasley's began arriving. Bill came first, apologizing for Fleur who was resting at home. Percy and Penelope Clearwater arrived next, followed shortly thereafter by Charlie, who had come in last night specifically to attend this dinner. George and Angelina were next, followed by Ginny. Harry hadn't seen her for three days that felt like years and the hug he gave her reflected that. Last but not least, Ron's parents stepped out of the fireplace.

Hermione was busying passing around drinks, when Mr. Weasley said, "What's this?"

"Oh, that's for you," Ron said. "Hermione."

She turned around, "Oh yes, I thought you might like that as a sort of thank you for the bathroom."

Mr. Weasley immediately began pawing through the box. "Ah, he said, is this a video camera?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "My father loved gadgets. I guess he left that one behind and only took his new one."

"How does it work?" Mr. Weasley said, fascinated.

"Well, it takes moving pictures kind of like a magical camera."

"Yes, but how do you see them?" Mr. Weasley said, looking through the camcorder's lens.

"Uh, I think you have to connect it to the TV." She pulled a small heavy square from the box. "This is an early flat screen. If you connect the camera to this, you can see pictures, but I don't see any tapes in the box. They must've taken all those."

"Hmm," Mr. Weasley said, perhaps we can connect it anyway. Just to see how it goes, while I've got you and Harry here to help."

"Arthur, do you have to that now?" Molly asked. "We'll be having dinner soon."

"Oh, we have some time, go ahead," Hermione said. "Harry can you help him, I just want to check on Kreacher."

"I think these three cables connect the camera to the TV," Harry said, trying to remember how Mr. Dursley used to connect things.

"Ah yes!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed. "They're color coded. Geniuses those Muggles. I think that's got it. I've got a new spell for charging these things. Look at this," Arthur said, holding his wand to the power strip. An image appeared on the screen and music began to play. "Success!"

"What's happening?" George asked, leaning toward the screen. "I thought Hermione said there weren't any pictures." He grinned, "They certainly don't seem too bothered about clothes?" Everyone in the room turned to look at the screen.

"What?" Molly said.

The image shifted and panned through an outdoor scene. Several people in bathing suits were milling around. Shouts, squeals and splashing could be heard over the music.

"I'm not sure," Arthur said, uncomfortable with lack of clothing on the screen.

"Oi," someone on the screen said. "You lot, out of the pool. Let's do the cake bit now."

The image shifted to several teens pulling themselves out of the water. A particularly tan boy with sandy blonde hair pulled himself up over the side and hurried toward the end of the pool where a girl in a maroon bikini was pulling herself slowly up the ladder. Water sheared off her in a most appealing way.

"Ooh la la," George said.

Ron swatted him on the back of the head with a Quidditch magazine. "Shut it, that's Hermione."

"Oh," George said. "Sorry. So, what is this?"

"It looks like a pool party," Harry said.

"A what?" Arthur said.

"You know, a party where people swim and cook out. There's food and music and stuff."

"Oh," Arthur said.

On the screen, people started walking toward the camera. A man's voice said, "Can you take this Nigel? I need to get the cake." In the background the blonde boy held out a hand to Hermione. Still with her back to the camera she took it and he helped her from the ladder. Once on the deck, she stopped and put her other hand to her side. The boy waited. He said something to her, but it couldn't be heard over the music.

Nigel moved the camera's focus from the foreground to Hermione and the blonde boy as they turned toward the camera.

There was a collective gasp from the room. "Bloody hell!" Ron said. When Hermione turned toward the camera, her bikini top did nothing to hide a dark purple scar that ran from her collarbone between her breasts to almost the opposite hip. Ron let out a quiet strangled noise as she and the blonde boy walked toward the camera holding hands. The boy said something to her. She shook her head and laughed.

xxx

In the kitchen, Hermione heard Ron shout "bloody hell!" Since she knew his mother was in the parlor and that Ron didn't generally curse in front of her, she hurried to see what the fuss was about. She stopped at the door arrested by the image on the screen. It was her father carrying a birthday cake. Someone turned off the music and everyone began to sing Happy Birthday. Her mother leaned over to blow out the candles. Her father hugged her mother and then Hermione joined them in a group hug. Her father kissed her mother and said, "Happy birthday, luv." Everyone clapped.

The image on the screen jumped and then it was dark with a blurred bright spot in the middle. Her father's voice said, "I know it has a nighttime setting, oh wait, here it is." The image resolved in low light to reveal a fire pit on the beach. A man picked up a guitar and began to play. The image moved around the fire to show everyone sitting around it. There was Hermione again, still barelegged, but this time in a thin, long-sleeved hoodie. The blonde boy sat behind her with his arms around her and his chin on her shoulder.

"How do I make this stop?" Arthur said, nervous about what was unfolding on the screen and mindful of Ron's very red face and Hermione's very pale one.

"Don't." Hermione said, moving in closer to the screen. "I remember this."

The man with the guitar began singing a sweet song. Hermione and Harry recognized it as Annie's Song by John Denver. The image jumped and the camera moved toward Hermione and the boy. "Can you hold on to this?" her father said. "I want to dance with your mother."

The camera followed him as he took her mother's hand and they began to dance in the sand.

There was a soft sound and the image tilted slightly.

"Jean," Hermione said breathlessly. "Stop, you're making it hard to hold the camera steady."

He murmured something inaudible and she giggled. A moment later she said, "Look how happy they are."

"Yeah your parents are great," the boy said. "You're great too." There were more soft sounds and the camera tilted again.

"Jean," Hermione's voice sighed from the screen.

When the song was done, Hermione's father led her mother over to where Hermione sat. The camera tilted toward the night sky. "We're heading back to the suite. Don't be out too late," her father said.

Her mother leaned over, obscuring the image. "I love you, 'Mi'," she whispered. "Make good choices."

"Mum," Hermione said, in an embarrassed tone. "I'll be up soon."

The image dissolved into static.

All eyes in the room shifted to Hermione. She wiped a tear from her cheek and said, "Excuse me." She slipped into the study closing the doors behind her. Ron turned to go after her. "Ron," Ginny said, catching his wrist, but he pulled away from her and kept going. He slid open one of the pocket doors and closed it behind him. "Impreturb," he said.

His mind was flooded with a thousand thoughts at once. Who was that bloke? What was he doing that made her breathless and giggly? Why was that scar so big when it was half that size now? How did they ever explain that to the Muggles? Where were they? It didn't look like England. But when he saw Hermione sitting on the edge of the ottoman with her head in her hands all other thoughts fell away.

"Are you alright?"

She shook her head.

Ron knelt in front of her.

"I miss them so much. I'm getting engaged in a little while and they won't know anything about it. This is all so wrong." She sobbed. "I want them back."

"I'm sorry," Ron said, taking her in his arms. "I'm so sorry." He held her and let her cry.

xxx

In the parlor, an awkward silence descended.

George broke it by saying, "Who was that bloke?"

"I'm guessing the French guy she dated the summer after fourth, well her fifth year," Ginny said.

"Huh, a French Muggle. That's exotic," George commented. "Do you suppose Ron's in there going mental about it?

"I certainly hope not," Ginny said. "Who she was with before him is none of his business."

"It's none of our business," Molly said, rising to her feet. "Ginny let's see what we can do to get dinner moving along."

"I think Kreacher's got that covered Mum. Ginny said without getting up from her place on the sofa next to Harry."

"Well," her mother said, standing in the center of the room with nothing to do. "Well…"

"I'm so sorry," Arthur said. "I had no idea there was anything in the camera."

"You couldn't have known dear," Molly said.

"Obviously, Hermione didn't know or she would've taken it out before she gave it to you to mess with," Harry added.

"I don't understand why the scar was so big. It isn't nearly that big now," Ginny said.

"Time," Molly said. "It's been nearly three years. Cursed scars will shrink some over time. All that sunshine was good for it too. It helps drain the dark magic."

"How do you suppose they explained that cursed scar to the Muggles?" Bill asked.

Hermione's spoke from the study door. "They told everyone I had been attacked on a train by a maniac with a knife that had been dipped in something corrosive." Her eyes were red rimmed and her cheeks were blotchy.

"And they believed that?" George asked.

"It was a plausible enough explanation. Besides, we were at a resort in Spain. We didn't really know anyone there. It wasn't like people were going to pry but so much. I'm going to go check on Kreacher and see where we are on dinner."

"Dinner is ready Miss." Kreacher said from the kitchen door.

"You all take your seats," Hermione said. "I'll be down in a tick."

xxx

True to her word, Hermione was back downstairs in a flash, her eyes and face clear and her hair down and falling in soft ringlets. Ron smiled to see it. He knew the hair was just for him. He loved it that way, but she usually didn't bother with the charms, and kept it in a long braid down her back instead.

She took her seat next to him and conversation stopped. Ron cleared his throat. "I'm pretty sure you all already know why you're here, but Hermione and I would like to officially announce our engagement. Broad smiles appeared around the table. "So without further ado." He stood and took her hand. She stood next to him. "Hermione Granger, will you marry me?"

Hermione smiled. "I will Ron Weasley."

"Then I offer you this ring as a promise of engagement in future marriage so that others might know we are betrothed." He slid the gold ring with the large blue sapphire on her left ring finger.

Everyone clapped. He bent down to hug her. She hugged him back fiercely. "I love you so much," he whispered.

"I love you too," she said.

xxx

That night, Ron found himself in the reading chair in the corner of their bedroom with those soft ringlets of Hermione's fanned out over his lap. He thought he might go mad with the wet heat of her mouth on him and perhaps he did, because unbidden the words, "How'd you get so good at this?" slipped from his lips.

Hermione stopped and sat back on her ankles. "What did you just say?"

The room seemed unbearably cold by comparison to her mouth and there was no blood left in his brain. "Uh," he said, trying to think. "I don't…I mean…I was just saying you're brilliant."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "That's not what you said."

He honestly couldn't remember what he'd said. "I can't…what?"

"You said, 'How'd you get so good at this.' What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Ron said. "I didn't mean anything, except that you're really good."

She stared at him.

"Come on," he said, reaching for her. "I don't care about that."

"Care about what?"

He let out an exasperated sigh. "That guy on the video. Clearly you two were serious, but I don't care."

Hermione held out her hand and her dressing gown flew into it. She cinched it tightly around her waist. "I knew it was too good to be true when you didn't mention it this afternoon."

Ron frowned at her. "I didn't say anything because I could see you were upset about your parents. But now that you mention it, I do find it curious that was the only tape you kept."

"I didn't keep it," Hermione said. "My dad left it in the camera. But I'll certainly keep it now."

"Why?"

She blinked back tears. "Because it might be the only way I'll ever hear my mother tell me she loves me again."

Ron frowned. "She also said 'make good choices.' What was that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what she meant. And, unfortunately, so does everyone else in your family."

Ron ignored the part about his family. "So, your mum knew you and that bloke were serious."

"Well, she's neither blind nor stupid, so I'm sure she did."

Ron reached for his boxers on the floor and pulled them on, unable to continue arguing naked. "I don't understand why you would even do that?"

"Do what?"

"Seriously date a Muggle? It's not like it could go anywhere."

"Where exactly do you think half-bloods come from, Ron?"

His face paled. "You were that serious?"

She rolled her eyes. "Of course not! I'm just saying we mix with Muggles. It happens."

"Yeah, maybe to regular witches and wizards," Ron scoffed. "But not you."

"Why not me? It would probably make more sense for me than anyone."

"What? No, it doesn't. You're too good for that."

A dark cloud crossed her features and he knew he'd crossed a line.

"My parents are Muggles. What? Do you think you're better than them?"

"No," Ron said, backpedaling. "No, of course not. You know I don't."

"Then what are you saying?" She said, crossing her arms across her chest.

"I'm just saying, you're very powerful, what could you possibly have in common with that Muggle bloke?"

She clenched her teeth and glared at him.

"Well?" Ron said.

"He was kind to me during a very difficult time. That's what he we had in common. He was kind and I needed some kindness."

"Well." Ron sputtered. "Well, just how kind are we talking?"

"You're impossible!" she roared and stormed out the door.

He grabbed his trousers off the floor and began pulling them on. "Wait!" he shouted after her, but he could already hear her on the stairs. He grabbed a jumper and tore after her.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard the study doors slam and the unmistakable sound of a locking charm. He pounded his fist against the door, but to no avail. She ignored him.

"Bloody hell," he cursed and turned around. Harry and Ginny had been curled up on one of the sofas together reading a book. They both stared at him.

"I need some air," he said, pulling the jumper over his head, and calling his broom to his hand.

"Maybe I should go after him," Harry said.

"No," Ginny said. "I'll do it. Can I borrow your Firebolt?"

"Take it," Harry said.