6 - Afternoon
It was amazing what a few weeks' time did to Diagon Alley. The "Wanted" posters had been removed, the Dark Arts shops returned to their previous businesses, and the cobblestone alleyway was bright and lively again. Even for noontime on a Monday, the shopping strip was bustling with people. Last time Hermione was here, she walked through these streets as Bellatrix Lestrange and Diagon Alley couldn't have been more unrecognizable. But on this day, she was with her best friend, who was now more than a friend, and having déjà vu to summer trips here in her early Hogwarts years. It was magical.
"This was a great idea, Ron," Hermione said as they sat down to eat at a small outdoor restaurant near Ollivanders.
"It just feels good to get out of the Burrow for a little bit," he sighed contently. "And I'm not sure if you remember, but our first unofficial date was here..."
"Our first unofficial date?"
"Before third year...the day we met up with Harry and bought all of our school supplies. You had so many books and we ate here and then had ice cream and then you bought Crookshanks - "
"I didn't know that was a date!"
"Well, obviously, it wasn't at the time. But now it's kind of romantic, I guess. Except for Crookshanks."
"I think Crookshanks really added a lot of charm," Hermione giggled. "Thanks to your parents, by the way, for watching him last year. I know he's a handful."
"That's an understatement," Ron teased her. Then they were quiet for a moment and Ron's ears went red. "I think I'm a little bit nervous."
"I think I am too," Hermione admitted. "I feel like we've really gone soft the past few weeks...I mean, aren't we supposed to be hardcore war heroes or something? Not a pile of nerves over lunch."
"I personally would love to forget the whole 'hardcore war hero' identity for the rest of the day," Ron said. "I think we had enough of that this morning. And so much for keeping things private, right?"
"Just as long as Rita Skeeter keeps her hands off of Wilson's notes, people hopefully won't pay that much attention to you and me. Harry's got the exciting story." Hermione didn't mean this in a derogatory way towards her and Ron, but Ron frowned slightly.
"Well, you did destroy the cup. And I got the locket. And we were both there at the Ministry and Gringotts...I guess talking about it this morning made me realize how much we contributed too. I know you don't want attention, but you deserve it."
"You do too. Rescuing Harry from that lake, getting the chandelier off of me at Malfoy Manor, remembering the house elves..." Hermione said, smirking at the end.
"Yes, that was definitely my proudest moment," Ron mused.
Any initial awkwardness faded quickly and they lost themselves in conversation. It had been a long time since the two of them really talked. It had been even longer since Hermione teased Ron for his insistence on putting ketchup on everything. And even longer since Ron joked about how wild her hair became in the summer heat. But they did all of these things and it couldn't have felt more natural. When the bill came, Ron immediately grabbed it, but Hermione protested. She knew money was tight at the Burrow due to the Weasleys being out of work for most of the year, and Ron still had a new wand to buy.
"Hermione, please let me be the gentleman," he said as Hermione pulled change out of her beaded bag.
"Ron, your family has been extremely generous to me the past few weeks. This is the least I can do."
"But don't you have healer bills to pay? And I'm guessing that traveling to Australia isn't cheap..."
Hermione should have expected this. Of course he was thinking about her too. "Let's go Dutch," she suggested.
"Go Dutch?"
"It's a muggle thing...you know, split the bill." Hermione secretly loved educating him on muggle culture like this because he always looked so fascinated. Ron agreed, but he insisted on covering the tip. These were the trivial disputes that Hermione had missed so much when they were plagued with constant rows on the run...this type of fighting was way more fun.
…
Bellatrix's wand bothered Hermione since the first time she used it at Shell Cottage. She never won it's allegiance, so properly performing any spells required a great deal of effort. She remembered during the final battle when she had to use it against Bellatrix. While Hermione held her own very well, she had been painfully aware that if it came down to the two of them, Bellatrix's wand would not betray its master. And even with practice during the past few weeks, she couldn't get comfortable using it. The wand had cast too much damage on her and the people she loved. Some things were unforgivable, and time wouldn't change that. What Hermione wanted was her old wand back, but given that they left it at Malfoy Manor, she knew that wasn't a possibility. Hermione assumed that Ron was also eager to stop using Pettigrew's wand; Ron's relationship with its previous owner was also deranged.
They entered Ollivander's cautiously, unsure of what to expect. It came as a surprise to Hermione that the inside of the wand shop looked identical to when she visited almost seven years prior to buy her beloved vine wand. Ron's face mirrored her admiration.
"Come in!" Ollivander's voice came from deep within the shelves. "I have been expecting you two."
Before they finished exchanging proper greetings, Ollivander was already piling boxes of wands on the counter in front of them. He looked much healthier than the last time Hermione had seen him, and she hoped that Blair Wilson wouldn't badger him too much for a testimony. He asked to examine the wands that Hermione and Ron had been using and then sighed grimly.
"Ah, yes, I did not expect you to tolerate this wand very well, Ms. Granger. It seems that even in its master's death, it remains unyielding. It was quite the lethal weapon in the possession of a witch with such a lacking conscious."
That was certainly true.
"As for this wand, Mr. Weasley," Ollivander continued, "I understand why you'd be having problems too...the conditions it was crafted in were not ideal."
"I think it's just a bit too short for him too," Hermione noted jokingly and Ollivander chuckled. She remembered Ron's previous wand looking about half a foot longer than Pettigrew's.
"Perhaps some of these may be a better fit." Ollivander gestured towards the boxes on the counter.
"Oh, if it'd be possible to get replicas of our original wands, I think we'd be the most comfortable with that," Ron said quickly...they were both major creatures of habit. "They always worked really well for us."
"They did in the past," Ollivander corrected him, "But I can tell that you've both changed tremendously since you were eleven years old. I expect different wands will be attracted to you."
"I suppose." Ron shrugged, but Hermione genuinely believed Ollivander. As much as she hated to admit it, she was not the same girl that bought the vine wand all those years ago.
For the better part of the next hour, Hermione and Ron tried the different wands that Ollivander suggested...with little success. Hermione had not been a tricky customer when she was eleven, but she shared a very different relationship with magic now. She was brutally aware of its capabilities; she saw wands as potential weapons more than anything positive. It had also been a long time since she experimented with spells that were not defensive magic, and she doubted that she could still perform any of the complicated transfigurations or charms that she always praised herself on. For these reasons, jealousy ensued when Ron managed to cast his patronus with a spruce wand...Hermione had yet to produce sparks from the cypress wand she was trying, and she was growing more frustrated by the minute.
"Aha! A perfect fit, Mr. Weasley!" Ollivander said as they watched the silver terrier run around the shop. "Of course, I'm not surprised...I can tell you've developed quite a firm-hand for spellcasting. Paired with the kneazle whisker core and tall height, I expect this spruce wand will support your impressive skills exceptionally well."
"The core is made of kneazle whiskers?" Ron repeated, turning the wand over in his hands.
"Crookshanks will be pleased," Hermione murmured. Her attention shifted, however, to the increasing difficulty she was having with the wand in her own hand. In addition to her inability to produce magic with it, the act of holding such a precise object triggered the tremors that she had been experiencing on and off since that fateful night in March. Her grip on the wand weakened as the shaking in her hand intensified, and she put the wand back in the box before dropping it.
"What's up?" Ron whispered to her as Ollivander wrapped up his new spruce wand.
"Nothing." Hermione hid her hands behind her back.
"No luck, Ms. Granger? I'm curious to see if this wand will work for you." Ollivander finished with Ron's wand and pulled yet another box from the shelves for Hermione.
Hermione willed her hands to stay steady as she took the elegant piece of fir wood from the box. Even before casting any spells, she knew this wand chose her. A grin spread across her face and she suddenly felt eleven years old again. She conjured a jar and produced a bluebell flame inside one.
"Classic," Ron mused.
"My parents always brought home huge fir trees for Christmas…"
"Fir wood is very resilient, much like yourself, Ms. Granger. These wands often chose survivors of some shape or form," Ollivander said. "And the core is dragon heartstring, so it should be quite powerful."
Hermione sensed a twinge of unease upon learning that this new wand shared the same core as Bellatrix's wand, but she ended up purchasing it anyway. And as they left Ollivander's and entered the streets of Diagon Alley, she truly felt like a powerful witch once again.
…
It started raining as they prepared to aparate back to the Burrow, and Hermione's shielded eyes remained glued to the cobblestone as they hurried down the street. So when Ron came to an abrupt halt beside her, she looked around in surprise.
"What's - ?"
Hermione exhaled gently as realization settled upon her. They stood beside Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and an old advertisement bearing Fred and George's smiling faces stared back at them. In a daze, Hermione watched the raindrops stream down the windows of the store and listened to the shoppers splashing through puddles behind them. Ron appeared both shocked and confused, so Hermione pulled herself out of her own bewilderment and racked her mind for something comforting to say. She eventually decided on simply taking Ron's hand in her own and waiting patiently while he processed his resurfacing grief.
"I hope George still continues with the business," he said eventually. "Fred was so proud of it...it'd be a shame if it was for nothing."
"I agree."
"I'm glad they had the opportunity to live out their dreams together...even if it was cut short."
"It really inspires you to go out and chase your own dreams, doesn't it?"
Ron smiled softly and Hermione discerned a slight gleam in his otherwise puffy eyes. The pounding rain lightened and their breathing evened out until they were in sync...as if sustaining each other's strength.
"Last summer, I told Fred about my feelings for you. He was the only one to know."
"Oh, Ron - "
"He did tell me to go and chase my dreams and to never give up on you. I think he'd be proud of me."
"I think so too."
Part of Hermione was surprised to learn that Ron shared his emotions and vulnerabilities with Fred because of his tendency to keep that aspect of his life private. But she was also deeply touched that he cared enough to seek insight from others.
"If he were here right now," Ron said, "He'd tell us that we're taking life too seriously."
His new playful tone and the increasing twinkle in his eyes made Hermione curious.
"What are you suggesting?"
"Come with me."
And without further explanation, Hermione felt Ron's grip tighten and she caught one last glimpse of Fred's face on the advertisement before it vanished from sight.
…
Their landing was surprisingly graceful. Once Hermione's eyes adjusted to the sun, she took a moment to absorb her surroundings and found them amidst a field of flourishing peonies. Across a distant hilltop, she recognized the chapel of Ottery St Catchpole. Hermione never thought the outskirts of the Burrow were particularly charming, but this view was breathtaking.
"It's beautiful here," she said.
"The shop just reminded me that Fred and George used to take Ginny and me to watch the sunset here sometimes...when we were kids."
"We lucked out with the weather; it looks like the storm's already passed." Hermione nodded towards a faint rainbow in the direction of the Burrow.
"I thought we needed some scenery before heading home," Ron explained as he conjured a red and white picnic blanket that blended in with the flowers.
He sat down and gestured towards the empty space next to him. They were soon settled face-to-face and gradually leaning closer. Their hands met quickly, and when their foreheads pressed together next, Hermione's heartbeat accelerated. The flowers' aroma mixed with the scent of Ron's hair, and they shared the same breath. For the following minutes of bliss, Hermione reached a new level of closeness with Ron. They had kissed before, but never in such a state of serenity. Suddenly, the tremors and grief and legal headaches faded. Knowing that they'd eventually reappear made Hermione savor this field of peonies even more.
"Thank you for sharing this spot with me," she sighed once they relaxed on the picnic blanket an unknown amount of time later.
"It is a pretty sweet spot for our first date."
"It's straight out of a movie."
"A movie?" Ron's confidence seemed to falter.
Hermione merely laughed: "We're going to muggle London for our next date."
When they began the trek back to the Burrow, the moon was higher than the sun in the sky. Hermione watched the light dim like Fred and Ron all those years ago. She fiddled with her new wand, mimicking her eager eleven year-old self. She greeted Crookshanks with the same enthusiasm of the day that she bought him. But she also kissed Ron goodnight and encountered Harry playing with his godson and produced her most impressive bluebell flame to date. Their afternoon at Diagon Alley had been full of nostalgia and reminiscence, but they lived in the future now.