Hermione woke to Ron softly saying her name. She was in the exact same position she fell asleep in, thanks to the Dreamless Sleep potion. Her body ached from lack of movement, but her mind felt calm and unnaturally blank.
She thanked Ron for staying and for waking her, then headed into the loo. Neither had said much this early morning as neither of them were morning people. She expected Ron to fall back asleep. After all, it was barely daybreak.
She undressed sleepily and headed into the shower. The warm water felt wonderful on her sore muscles. It was desperately needed too, as she hadn't showered since before the wedding. Her hair product and leftover makeup were washed away as she was cleansed by the water.
She reluctantly got out of the shower; she only had so much time. Wiping the mirror to get rid of the fog from the shower, Hermione analysed her appearance. What was the school going to think of her? Her hair was completely different. And she was different, too. Though not in a way she could explain to her coworkers. Would they be able to tell? Could they somehow know that she wasn't her anymore?
She thought briefly about magicking her hair blonde. But, she didn't want to. She liked her hair now, and she didn't want to hide anymore. She did change her golden tattoo back to black. That would be hard to explain.
She headed to her room to get a change of clothes and was surprised to see that Ron was not in her bed. Was he that desperate to get away from her? The smell of bacon wafted into her room, erasing the self-pity she was feeling. He was cooking. Ron was cooking her breakfast. She hurriedly changed into her work clothes, excited to see this rare sight.
Ron had set out a platter of bacon and was scrambling eggs when he noticed Hermione come out of her room. She raised her eyebrow at him and his apparently newfound cooking skill.
"I figured you needed to eat, no?", he said while pouring the eggs onto a plate.
"You're right," Hermione said, sitting down at her kitchen bar. "It's incredibly kind of you."
Ron gave a small shrug and sat next to Hermione, tucking into his breakfast.
Hermione went to take a bite of eggs when she thought of something.
"Ron?"
"Hmm," Ron responded, mouth full of bacon.
"Where did you get the eggs and bacon?".
Hermione hadn't gone shopping for over a month, and if he had somehow found food in her fridge, there was no way that it was still good.
"I popped over to the burrow and grabbed some," Ron said between bites. "I figured mom wouldn't mind, and you don't have much to make here."
Hermione smiled and began to eat her breakfast, feeling a deep appreciation for the man sitting next to her. She looked over at him in adoration, which was only slightly taken away by the sight of him stuffing his mouth with eggs.
"So," Ron said, apparently needing a break to breathe between bites, "what's the plan for today?"
"Well," said Hermione, checking her watch, "the bus leaves in 20, and I figured it'd be best to take it."
She had given her mode of transportation to work a lot of thought. The school she worked at was in a very busy neighborhood, and there wasn't a very good place to apparate, unseen. Even if she managed it, the school secretary took the same bus as her, and would likely ask why she wasn't there. And since she didn't have a car or even a spot in the carpark, she wouldn't have a good excuse. No, it was much easier to just take the bus.
Even without her explanations, Ron seemed content with her form of travel and nodded her on.
"Then I've got work until three, and I probably won't make it back until 3:30. And, well, that's my plan."
"Should I meet you back here at 3:30, then?"
"Yes," responded Hermione. "That would be nice." She didn't want to ask him to come over, she already felt like she was being needy. So, she was happy that he suggested it.
After finishing breakfast and Hermione gathering her lessons and papers, the pair walked down to the bus stop and kissed farewell. Promising to see each other later that day.
Hermione's first day back had gone surprisingly well. There were no panic attacks or flashbacks. She easily slipped back into being Jane, Miss. Darling, and Missus. There were only a few times when her change in appearance was even noted. Since she had a new class, none of her current students knew that she looked different. A few times she had passed an old pupil in the hall, and they did not recognise her until she (re)introduced herself. She only had to be around the other teachers during the early morning meeting, deciding it was best to take her lunch in her classroom. Only one teacher at the staff meeting said anything. Though Hermione was expecting this; Shirley was never one to ignore something that could potentially lead to gossip.
Shirley had taken her aside and bombarded her with questions. Who did her hair? Why did she choose brown? (blonde seemed to suit her better, after all). What made her make the change? She looked different. Was there a new man in her life?
The questions came so fast, that Hermione didn't have time to answer them. All except the last one, which Shirley hung on, waiting for Hermione to answer. As soon as Hermione reluctantly nodded, Shirley went on another tirade. Apparently Shirley "knew it", Hermione was glowing (well, as Shirley said it, Hermione looked well-shagged). Thankfully, before any more too-personal questions could be asked, the meeting began, and Hermione made it a point to avoid Shirley for the rest of the day.
Hermione had set up for the next day and gathered her things. The last hour of work had been the toughest one. Not because of her mental health or rowdy students. No, because she couldn't seem to keep her mind off of Ron. As she took her seat on the bus, she let herself think all of the thoughts she had been suppressing.
She thought about the progression of their relationship. Which, to her, seemed to have just happened. Would they be expected to start up where they were before? Where were they before? After all, they had barely gone on a first date. But, they had also done so much more.
She urged her mind to stay away from all that happened after their date. She didn't need to start crying or screaming or whatever-ing on the bus. The truth was, she had done her best to keep those moments out of her brain. She had no idea how she would react to them.
She tried to get her mind to get back to the topic. To Ron. She did say I love you the night before. Was that too soon? He had said it back. And then he said he would meet her after work. But, surely he had his own work to contend with. He normally didn't get out until after five. So, she would have time at her flat before he arrived. Time to do what, though?
She wondered if the other bus goers could see her blush creeping over her face. Or the fact that she kept shifting her legs and crossing and recrossing her legs out of anxiety.
She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she almost missed her stop.
She got out of the bus and looked up at her building with a sigh. She was really a mess, wasn't she?
She had three flights of stairs to walk to get to her flat. She spent the time analysing the last two days with Ron. By the time she made it to her door, she wished she had just apparated. Her hair was falling out of its bun, curls falling on to her face, and sticking to her forehead, which had started to break out in a sweat.
She had talked herself out of Ron being in her flat by the time she arrived and was now planning on taking a long bath as soon as she got in her flat.
But, much to her surprise, Ron was there. He was standing in her sitting room, awkwardly wringing his hands together.
She didn't know if it was the shock of seeing him or the fact that she had been ruminating about this moment for the last half hour, but she dropped her bag and ran to him. Swiftly crushing her lips onto his.
Ron reciprocated in kind, wrapping his arms around her body. Their snogging quickly escalated, Ron breaking their mouths to kiss her neck. He moved his mouth along her neck and onto her pulse point. He knew exactly what she liked.
She went to take off his shirt but was disappointed to find that it was not a button-up, and in order to remove it, she would also have to remove his arms. Which she did not want to do. Especially now that they were exploring her body. One of them resting on her thigh and moving upward.
"Bedroom?", she whispered breathily.
Ron did not verbally respond, but he began moving the pair to her bedroom. Their discarded clothes creating a trail in their wake.