Disclaimer: Have I mentioned that neither the concept nor the characters belong to me? Harry Potter and the gang are all J K Rowling's creations.

A/N: My beta Indie is wonderful, thanks again for your help.

My fic is moving slowly. I do believe in keeping the flow my story so I won't rush. Draco and Hermione are coming either in # 35 or # 36.

¡Vamos Uruguay y Brasil! Mañana estaré pegada a la tele apoyando a nuestros hermanos latinoamericanos. Best of luck to my latin American brothers, Uruguay and Brasil.

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Chapter 34: Maybe This Time…

The early sun showered everything with gold. All colours were accentuated, everything looked sharper. The air crisp and clean. Blue horizon and the promise of another good day. Not a common occurrence in a city known for its grey skies and constant rain. It had been years since he could say, and mean it, that it was indeed, a good day.

His footfalls took him to the room across the hall. Dragging a chair, Harry sat on it and sipped from his cup of tea. He was hungry but too lazy to bother fixing breakfast, not even with magic. His gaze landed on the moving picture. Shaking his head he frowned and sighed.

Hermione shouldn't be in the dark about the blasted article. She had the right to know and he could use it to his advantage. A crooked smile adorned his face, relishing in the opportunity it gave him. His eyes reverted back to the newspaper. Harry's lips gave up the smile and replaced it with a tightening of his mouth and a narrowing of his eyes. On the other hand, it would confirm Hermione's fears and misgivings about a world she no longer felt part of. He could take it upon himself to demand a retraction from the paper; he was after all, Harry Potter, Saviour par excellence and by Merlin he'd made sure they listened to him! But, no, no if Hermione wasn't on board…He knew she should know that it was, at least from his point of view, a reason to go back and clear her name. He also acknowledged that if Hermione made public her distaste for the Daily Prophet's detrimental and bias article, it would leave her and John Albus vulnerable, exposed. Harry stood up, taking the empty cup with him adding it to the small pile of dirty dishes crowding the sink.

"I'll clean it before I leave," he said to no one.

As he climbed the stairs to his bedroom Harry weighed his options. If he called Hermione on her way to work, she'd worry, if he asked to see her after work, she'd worry. She'd worry no matter what. His best option was to drop by the shop during her lunch break. Reaching the top, he made for the knob of his bedroom door when a sound at the bottom of the stairs caught his attention.

"Ron!" Harry ran down the stairs as soon as he realized who it was.

"Harry." Ron waved his hand sheepishly.

"This is a surprise. Is ––," Harry was interrupted by a smiling Ron.

"Charlie is fine. Mum asked me the same question." Ron said looking hesitant as to what to do next.

"Are you hungry? I haven't prepared breakfast, too lazy," Harry said as he made his way to the kitchen. Ron followed him.

"I had breakfast at home. Harry," Ron paused, "we need to talk."

Leaning against the kitchen counter Harry studied his friend's features. Ron sat on the same chair Harry did before. Ron was calm and collected even though Harry suspected the reason why he sat at his kitchen table. Ginny wrote to Charlie, Bill had tea on Saturday during Hermione's visit and, there was the damn article. The subject of Hermione Granger irritated Ron at the best of times or provoked a rage so out of control one'd better keep a prudent distance. But Ron wasn't acting as Harry anticipated. His large hands rested on the table clasped together, his eyes darted back and forth between the different fixtures in the now cleaned and recently painted kitchen and when his gaze landed on Harry, it wasn't an accusatory or furious look. Odd, very odd, thought Harry.

"I agree," Harry said as he took a seat on the chair to Ron's right, "we do."

Ron took Harry's silence as his turn to start. He produced the article from The Daily Prophet which he placed on the table and slid toward Harry.

"I've read it already," Harry said.

"And?" Ron inquired tightening his intertwined hands.

"They spelled their names correctly, that's something." Harry's hands made it to the table's surface mimicking Ron's gesture. "Other than that, it's the same unfounded, bias rubbish they are known for."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ron asked not without a hint of annoyance.

"When I last saw you I had no idea where Hermione was," Harry answered.

"But you do now and I had to learn about it through a newspaper article!" Ron said raising his voice.

"I haven't lied or hid anything from you, Ron. If anyone did it was you." Harry coated his accusation with a bit of disappointment.

Ron's frown deepened, as his perplexed azure gaze locked with his best mate's verdant eyes. His friend, Harry observed, had no idea what he was talking about and it really bothered him that Ron thought so little about hiding Hermione's parchments. Had he read the last one he would have left no stone unturned until Hermione was found. Had he known Hermione was pregnant, had he read her testimony––He dismissed those futile regrets. He was Ron's and Hermione's best friend. He wasn't going to choose one over the other, not this time. But first, Ron owed him an explanation.

"Before she left, she owled us, remember? Ginny found the parchments in your room. You hid them in the Vanishing Cabinet." He could have gone on but settled for a more slow approach.

Ron's gaze dropped. Seconds ticked by and so Harry waited, anticipating vehement denial and righteous indignation. He wasn't angry at Ron, well, maybe just a little. When Ginny first told him about Hermione's letters some part of him wished she had never found them while the other felt sad and let down by Ron. After the shock had worn off he read them eagerly and his disappointment at Ron turned into pity and regret. It saddened Harry thinking about Ron those months after the war. In love but incapable of dealing with his feelings toward Hermione while at the same time mourning the loss of his brother. In hindsight, he should have warned Ron about Hermione's frustration with her would-be boyfriend or maybe forced them to talk rather than venting their frustration with him. Nevertheless, Ron had to answer for this and his other disgraceful actions.

"Two of those parchments were for me and you never told me," Harry said in an even, controlled tone.

Without looking at Harry, Ron took the worn out piece of paper in his hands. "I wasn't thinking," Ron said softly, staring into the moving picture. "I––I meant to let you know where I hid them but forgot, I did, Harry, I forgot," he lamented meeting his friend gaze.

"You lied to me, Ron. She wrote them to me. You had no right. Why, Ron? What were you trying to accomplish? You hated that her that much?" Harry had been focusing on the article Ron kept looking at as he challenged his friend.

Ron abandoned the article on the table and pushed the chair away as he rose. Hands in his pockets, he dared look at Harry. Ron's gaze skimmed and settled but for a second on the paper and swiftly grabbed it and returned it to the inside of his robe.

"I don't hate her," Ron said.

Harry shook his head. "Your actions say otherwise. You did everything in your power to hurt and humiliate her as much as possible. She left because of it," he said dryly.

Ron's imposing figure shrunk. His pale irises glistened with guilt. Harry wanted, needed Ron to answer. No matter that he had forgiven him already. His friend's face said it all. Ron was scrambling for words.

"I lost it, Harry. I'm sorry about those parchments and I'm glad Ginny found them and that you read them." Harry kept quiet while his eyes bore into Ron's. "I––I––"

Ron threaded his fingers in his hair. Harry stood up and took Ron by the shoulders. "Why did you come back, Ron?" Harry asked concerned.

Ron took his seat again taking his head in his hands. "I need to see her."

"She is gone, Ron, she wants nothing to do with us. She and magic are through. You've got what you wanted, you chased her away." The censure in Harry's voice wasn't lost to Ron who lowered his gaze briefly.

"Mum told me. In fact, you two said almost the same thing." Ron's tone softened as he continued. "I don't feel like a winner. I lied to you, I behaved like," Ron paused to let out a self-deprecating small laugh, "like the loser that I am."

Harry watched as his friend's features strained with anger. "Merlin's beard, Harry! I loved her and to see her in his arms, to watch her come between him and me and shout for all the world to hear that she loved him! Draco fucking Malfoy! I–– I just couldn't––"

Ron took his head in his hands lacing his fingers on his hair. Harry sat beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "And I didn't do anything to stop you because I was as angry and confused as you were. I was a mess, Ron, we were all going through–– Merlin knows! Just a few days ago I tried to–– Well, lets just say I did something really stupid."

Ron looked at Harry frowning. Harry nodded. Ron's eyes widened with alarm. "Harry! You––why?"

"It's over, doesn't matter now. Hermione came to the rescue, again. We talked, clear a few things, cried––" Harry hesitated a few moments. "Ron, I won't stand by while you hurt her again."

Harry rose to his feet and proceeded to prepare more tea. Ron watched in silence. Harry lathered some soap and washed two cups which he rinsed and dried in a matter of seconds, placed them on the table with tea bags on each, followed by the jar containing sugar. Milk and honey arrived immediately after, as well as a loaf of bread. Rather than sitting Harry opted for leaning on the counter by the cooker crossing his arms over his chest. Ron rested his back against the back of the chair. Harry noticed there were no traces of the anger Ron displayed a few minutes ago.

"If she is gone as you said, what were they doing at Hogsmeade?" Ron asked ignoring Harry's warning.

"I think Malfoy had plans of his own when he took her there. There are things you don't know about Hermione and Malfoy." Until he was sure about Ron's intentions Harry preferred to say as little as possible. "You saw the article and rushed back home to confront Hermione again. It's over, Ron. There is very little you can do or say to change what has happened. She is my friend. I let her down when she needed me the most. It's not that I am choosing her over you. You are my friends, my brother and my sister."

Both wizards measured each other up. The kettle complained loudly, startling the men. Harry took it and poured water into the cups. Sitting down, he spooned some honey and watched it dripped into the amber infusion. In silent companionship both wizards attended to their tea. As he stirred his tea Ron was the first to speak.

"Hermione and I need to talk Harry, I won't––I mean––It's true watching them together––well––." Ron gave out a big sigh. "Mum and Charlie said some things. Mum told me about having tea with Hermione in Muggle London and Hermione coming to The Burrow."

Ron's expression changed into one of concern as he added. "There is more, isn't there? Something about Hermione you don't want to tell me."

Harry brushed the rebellious strands of his hair in nervous movements. Hermione's life away from the wizarding world would soon be under scrutiny, the last thing she needed was Ron exacerbating an already difficult situation. Harry examined his friend's expression, what he saw confounded him. Ron was worried. About Hermione?

"I'm going to ask you again, Ron. What do you want from Hermione?" Harry asked, more like demanded.

"Just talk, Harry." Ron fidgeted nervously on his chair. "She is okay, isn't she? I mean she is not sick or dying or something, is she?"

Harry grinned relieved. There was hope. A chance for the three of them. "No, she is fine. The same know-it-all as we remember. Why would you think she is sick?"

Ron let out a sigh of relief, Harry couldn't help but smile again at the sight of it. "Mum insisted that I talk to you and Ginny first. I know she was hiding something and so are you, Harry. Is it that bad? Mum had tea with her and then she came to The Burrow, but you're saying she is done with us, no magic!" Ron looked like he couldn't believe it. "If she despises us so much why talk to Ginny or Mum or come back at all?"

"Because she is Hermione Granger." Harry replied.

Ron contracted his brows glaring at Harry. "What kind of answer is that?"

"The only one I can give you." Harry answered. Dragging his chair closer to the table Harry stare into Ron's eyes as he said, "If you want to talk to her, I won't stop you. I think you two owe each other an explanation. That is if she even lets you open your mouth. It's her decision, Ron."

Harry leaned back on his chair. Ron imitated him, crossed his arms over his chest and stayed silent for a few seconds digesting Harry's words. "You are okay with Malfoy and Hermione together then?"

"No. He's still the same sodding bastard he's always been." Harry regretted what he said. Ron's face turned red in a fraction of a second. Remarkably his response was the opposite of what Harry expected.

"Nice to know some things are still the same." Ron's jaw tightened. Harry marvelled at his friend's struggle for control over his emotions. "How can you stand watching them together?" Ron asked through clenched teeth.

"Because they aren't together."

Ron's chair made a scraping sound as its occupant snapped to attention. "But the picture. They were holding hands! It says they bought a house together!"

"That's why I don't read newspapers. That article is rubbish. Yes, they were in Hogsmeade. Yes, they had lunch at the Three Broomsticks and yes, he bought a house but–" Harry got up and emptied the remains of his tea on the sink. "I have to go, Ron. Hermione doesn't know about the article and I think she should."

"Harry, what's going on?" Absentmindedly Ron cleared the rest of the table. Harry wiped his hands dry with the dish towel and turned his gaze toward Ron, who stood by the sink waiting for an answer.

"Come with me. You wait outside. I'll talk to her first. I doubt she'll want to see you. If she refuses––" Harry didn't complete the sentence but made his way to the stairs climbing two steps at the time. His voice reached Ron who stood on the landing of the staircase with a troubled expression on his face.

"Harry!" Ron shouted. Harry came back, shirtless and expectant. "I'm sorry." It wasn't a meaningless phrase. It held a much deeper meaning that only two friends, such as the two wizards staring at each other could comprehend.

Harry nodded accepting his apology. "I know you are, Ron."