Sorry for the cliffhanger last chapter, I really couldn't help myself!

Some upcoming angst in the next few chapters, but I promise it will ease soon.

I know it goes without saying, but my thanks goes to cheeeeeesy for looking over this!

oOo

"Right here, miss?"

Hermione nodded at the two men who had just carried her recently purchased sofa up the stairs and into her new flat. In truth, she wasn't quite sure where she wanted the sofa placed just yet, but if it needed to be moved later on, she knew it was something she could easily do herself with the flick of a wand. "Yes, that's perfect," she told them with a smile as they set the piece down on the floor and let out loud sighs of relief.

It was Sunday afternoon, and she'd just got home from shopping, having bought a queen-sized bed set, a small sofa, and a large bookshelf- so far, the only pieces to furnish the otherwise empty space. The men turned around and headed to their truck to grab the bookshelf, and she busied herself to the bedroom to put sheets on the bed.

As she folded the fitted sheet over the white mattress, Hermione thought about how the last couple of days had been a whirlwind. She was surprised at how flawlessly things had come along since she'd made the decision to move back to London. Even though she didn't believe in such nonsense, it was almost as if fate had somehow known it was the right thing to do. So far, no obstacles had slowed her down. Finding a flat on such short notice had been much easier than she'd anticipated, and the fact that she was able to move in so quickly was astounding.

The building was right in the middle of Muggle London, with easy access to everything, including the Ministry of Magic. The flat was small, yet elegant and clean, and Hermione had immediately fallen in love with it once she'd seen it. To top it off, the rent there was surprisingly cheap, making her feel even more solid in her decision.

Done with her task, she turned and headed back into the living area to see the men pushing her bookshelf against the large, empty back wall, where it just happened to fit perfectly. Once it was nice and secure, Hermione bid the two muggle workers goodbye before taking out a small purse she'd been carrying around all day. Using her wand, she levitated box after box out of it, making a considerably large pile next to the sofa. When the bag was empty, she walked into the bedroom and fell on top of the bed, her head filled with so many 'what ifs' about the future.

Although she was eager to get in touch with everyone right away, Hermione's logical brain told her to wait until a job was secured first. If she went about this correctly, it would be crystal clear to everyone that she really was back, and back for good.

She was most excited to catch up with Harry and Ginny, and the thought of seeing them again brought tears to her eyes. After she'd moved to Montana, the three of them had managed to keep in touch through letters, at least for a little while. Over time, the letters had slowed down before stopping altogether, though there had never been anything close to a falling out. Hermione's world had just been so different, and she and her friends no longer had anything in common, something Hermione was determined to fix as soon as possible.

As for Ron, Hermione's emotions at the prospect of seeing him were more complicated. In the letters between her, Harry and Ginny, his name had never been mentioned, and Hermione was sure that was on purpose. It was as if Ron had become some sort of forbidden subject. Hermione had been too scared back then to press for information about him, fearful of what she would find out if she did. She'd guessed that he was again with Lavender, and if he was, she hadn't wanted to know.

If she was being honest, Hermione had no idea how she would react once she saw him. She was positive she'd run into him eventually, and even now, five years later, she was unsure if she would be able to put aside all of the hurt he'd caused her. Although she no longer had intense feelings for Ron the way she once had, the anticipation of seeing him was still daunting.

Even from a young age, she had always been attracted to him, and somehow, Hermione doubted that would have changed. The thought of a fully grown Ron Weasley certainly did more than just pique her interest. She'd meant what she said to her mum, though. She wasn't back for a relationship- especially a relationship with Ron. She was, of course, hoping that they could be friends, Hermione would be foolish to assume anything else could happen between them.

Sighing, she stood up and walked back into the living area, picking up the corded phone hanging on the wall to call and order some takeaway.

oOo

Hermione inhaled the air around her, her eyes eagerly roaming over the hustle and bustle of witches and wizards passing by. Being back in the Ministry of Magic after all this time felt surreal, and once again, it hit her that she was back where she belonged. For the first time in five years, she was completely surrounded by magic and she truly felt like herself again. It was almost like coming home after a very long holiday.

She'd woken up that morning feeling impatient and had shown up too early for her eleven o'clock meeting with Kingsley. Making good use of her time, Hermione had decided to walk around and familiarize herself with the place she hopefully would be working at soon. So far, she'd been pleased by the atmosphere at the post-Voldemort Ministry, happy to see that almost everybody there seemed to be relaxed and content as they made their way around the building.

Spotting a bathroom, Hermione walked inside to check on her appearance, wanting to make sure that her hair was still cooperating in its bun. Satisfied with her look, she then glanced over her outfit, turning a little in each direction in the full-length mirror so she could see her reflection from different angles. She was wearing a nice top and pencil skirt, and although business-like, it was rather sexy as well and clung nicely to her figure. Her sense of style had grown considerably since Hogwarts, and she wasn't the same drab-clothed girl she used to be. Not that she was, or ever would be, anything close to being a fashionista like Lavender Brown, but Hermione now knew that she was capable of accentuating what she did have and making the best of it.

Taking a final look in the mirror, Hermione turned and left the bathroom, pulling out the piece of paper Kingsley had sent to her.

It was almost eleven. She was ready.

Following the makeshift map to the Minister's office, she headed North. She walked among many people while keeping her eyes on the paper, but as she continued, the crowds in the corridor grew smaller, which to some extent helped calm her as it got less noisy.

Getting close, she'd just taken a turn to her left when she heard a voice call out, the sound making her stop dead in her tracks.

"Hermione?"

Without even turning around, Hermione knew who it was, the voice laced with bewilderment so achingly familiar to her. She hadn't heard his voice in so long, yet it caused her body to stiffen and break out into a cold sweat just the same. She'd not been anywhere near ready to run into him yet, and out of everyone she could have happened upon, Ron would have been her last choice.

Her heart pounding, she bit her tongue and forced a look of indifference on her face before turning around to see it was indeed Ron standing there. His arms hung down at his sides and he had a look of disbelief on his face as he blinked rapidly, his eyebrows knotted up in confusion. Hermione could not speak, the sight of him knocking the breath out of her lungs. Hermione's breath hitched as he slowly scanned the length of her body in a way that the Ron she knew in school would have never been able to do without his face turning crimson.

It was as if he were drinking in her every detail, and the effect caused a pleasant shiver to run down her spine. Hermione clenched her jaw, trying to swallow down the feelings he was evoking in her with just one look. In turn, she allowed her eyes to travel over him as well, studying the differences five years had made.

He was even taller than she remembered, and though he was wearing thick robes, Hermione could tell he had filled out considerably since his Hogwarts days. Gone was the lanky, slumped over boy, embarrassed of his height, and in his place stood a tall, confident looking man with a short, perfectly trimmed ginger beard on his strong jaw, his eyes bright blue and piercing as ever.

"R-Ron," she choked out, her voice octaves higher than she'd intended.

"Hermione," he repeated in a low voice.

"You're- you're an Auror?" she gaped, for the first time realizing the color of his robes. Hermione tried to smile, but due to her nerves, it came out as more of a grimace. Her expression didn't go unnoticed by Ron, and for a split second she saw a look of hurt cross his stoic features before he regained his composure.

When he spoke again, his tone was icy. "I am. Is that so surprising?" He crossed his arms in front of him, his defenses now up. "Did you assume I couldn't do anything worthwhile with my life without you there helping me?"

Hermione's eyes widened, panic settling in at the direction this conversation was taking. "No, I just-"

"What are you doing here, Hermione?" Ron interrupted. "You wanted to leave and start a new life. Why bother coming back?"

The words stung, and an almost forgotten urge to argue with him rose within her. "I came back because I wanted to. I'm going to be working here now. Is that a problem for you, Ronald?"

Ron's eyes narrowed. "No. Not at all. You're free to do whatever you want. I couldn't care less. Not that you need anyone's permission, of course. You always did whatever you wanted, regardless of how anyone else felt about it."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"I think you know what it means."

"I'm positive I don't."

Ron scoffed. "Right. Forget the details of your old life already, did you? Moved on to bigger and better things and forgot all about the people who used to be your friends. Look at you. You're clearly so much better than any of us."

"What?" she gasped. "I never said any of that!"

"No," he agreed. "You said nothing. At least nothing to me."

Hermione felt guilt wash over her. "Ron, I-"

Ron held his hand up, stopping her. "Please don't apologize now, Hermione, it's ancient history. I don't care anymore."

"You've made that perfectly clear, yes," Hermione gritted out.

"Does anyone else know you're back?" he asked, now looking almost bored and furthering her agitation.

"Not that it's any of your business, but no. Strangely, other than Kingsley, you're the first."

"Oh, what an honor," he said in a sarcastic voice. "I'm delighted to be the first one to learn the wonderful news."

Reaching her breaking point on how much she could handle, Hermione glanced down at her watch. "Well, it's been an absolute pleasure running into you, Ron, but I have somewhere else to be. If you'll excuse me." Without waiting for a response, she spun around and stalked away from him, relieved that he wasn't following her.

After a minute or so, she turned around a corner and leaned against the wall to take deep calming breaths, the tears she'd held back finally leaking from her eyes. Hermione thought she was way past what had happened between her and Ron, but seeing him again had broken down any wall that she had built. She felt as if she were seventeen years old and her heart was breaking all over again.

How was it that even after all this time, Ron Weasley still had the power to hurt her like only he could? She hated that. Right now, she hated him. Hermione knew it would be hard, if not impossible, to come back from that disaster of a reunion. She'd hoped they would be able to reconcile, but now she doubted it could ever happen.

Sniffling, Hermione wiped her face before waving her wand to vanish any evidence of her little breakdown. She took a deep breath to steel herself. No way was she going to let Ron drive her away again. She was here to stay, and he was just going to have to get used to it. There was one thing for sure, though. He wasn't going to make it easy for her.

oOo

Ron stood in place, his jaw clenched as he watched Hermione walk away. He'd called her name only half believing that it really could be her, and even after speaking with her, he couldn't wrap his head around her sudden reappearance. He felt like a bucket full of ice water had been dumped on him, and he had no idea what to do about it.

Seeing her had made some memories come to the forefront of his mind, crystal clear, as if her leaving had happened only yesterday. In the time since she'd left, Ron had outgrown most of his insecurities, but the sight of her had brought back that old feeling of inadequacy- of not being good enough- especially after her disbelieving reaction at him being an Auror. He had come so far from that heartbroken, insecure seventeen-year-old, and yet that's who he currently felt like.

Sure, he had reacted poorly, and the situation could have been handled much better, but in his defense he'd already had a shit morning and he definitely hadn't been prepared to run into Hermione bleeding Granger.

Up ahead, Hermione rounded a corner, and Ron lost sight of her. Cursing under his breath, he turned and went the opposite direction, taking the long way to the cafeteria even though he was pretty sure his appetite was ruined.

Arriving there before Harry for once, Ron grabbed a tray, scooping a bit of everything onto his plate before paying for his meal and sitting down at their usual table in the back of the room. It didn't take long before he saw Harry's mop of black, messy hair. He sat calmly in his chair, waiting and wondering how he was going to break the news to Harry that their old mate was back.

"You haven't eaten much," Harry exclaimed as he sat down next to him, dropping his tray with a clap on the table.

"Yeah," Ron muttered. "Don't have an appetite."

"Why?" Harry pressed as he took a bite of an apple.

"Well," he said in a slow voice. "Maybe because I just saw Hermione."

"Herm- What?" Harry choked mid-chew, a look of shock on his face as he waited for Ron to explain.

He nodded. "Yep. She's bloody here. Saw her not ten minutes ago."

Harry swallowed. "You mean Hermione, Hermione?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Do we know any other Hermione, Harry?"

"Well, shit," Harry mused. "I wonder why she's back? I haven't heard from her in ages."

"Apparently she's working here now- or will be soon. I dunno."

"So you talked to her?"

"Yep."

Harry's eyes narrowed, and Ron looked down at the table, feigning nonchalance. "Merlin," Harry groaned after a moment of silence. "Don't tell me you two have already managed to have a row?"

Ron only grunted.

"What is it with you guys? You both get along great with everyone except each other!"

"Her fault," Ron muttered under his breath. "She left."

"That was her choice, Ron. I've never held that against her."

"Yeah, well, she didn't even tell me goodbye! It's not like we were friends for seven years or anything," he said in a bitter voice. "You don't do that to people you are supposed to care about."

Harry's face softened. "I know she hurt you a lot, mate, but you're over all that now, right?"

Ron snorted. "Way over it."

"Then maybe you two could patch things up?" Harry said, a cautiously optimistic expression on his face. "We could all go back to being friends again."

"Like hell."

Harry sighed. "How did she look?"

"Well," Ron started. The truth was, she'd looked amazing, only adding insult to the injury. While still on the smaller side, Hermione was very much a woman now, though her face was identical to how he remembered it. It was still the face of the girl he'd wanted so badly back then, the face he used to dream about every night both before and after she left. He shrugged. "Like she was ready to take on the world."

"So, typical Hermione?" Harry said with a grin that irritated Ron.

"Don't tell me you're going to be all buddy-buddy with her now!" he accused. "After her abandoning us like she did?"

Harry took another bite of his food, his demeanor calm. "I hold no ill feelings towards Hermione, Ron. In fact, I'd love to catch up and get to know her again." His face lit up as if he'd just had a brilliant idea. "Hey! You think she'd come to the wedding?"

The thought of her coming to Harry and Ginny's wedding made Ron feel nauseous. "Maybe that's moving too fast," Ron spoke, trying to reason with his best mate. "It's been a long time. Maybe she's changed too much, and-"

Harry chuckled. "This is Hermione we are talking about! How much could she have changed?"

Ron couldn't think of anything else to argue the point. Wanting to do anything but talk about Hermione anymore, he changed the subject.

"Why did you ask Maureen to your hen/stag party this morning?"

"Thought you'd want her to come," Harry replied with a shrug, thankfully not resisting Ron's change of conversation. "I did it for you, you know. Thought you'd like someone to be there with you."

"Right. Well, like I said, we're not together."

"I know you aren't. I invited her partly in apology for accusing you of being in a relationship with her." He grinned. "Also, I told George that you were shagging her and he didn't believe me. I figured you'd like to rub it in his face."

Ron couldn't help but chuckle at the idea. "Yeah, that does sound fun. I don't know if she's coming or not, but we'll see."

Harry thankfully didn't bring the subject of Hermione up again, and the rest of their lunch was spent as normal with regular, pleasant chat. Even as Ron spoke about mundane things, Hermione wasn't far from his thoughts, despite him not wanting her to be.

When they were finished eating, he and Harry left the cafeteria to head back to their respective offices. Harry was droning on about the pressures of his job, and they were walking through the Atrium when Ron spotted Hermione heading in their direction. Gulping, he looked away, hoping she wouldn't notice them, and also hoping that Harry wouldn't notice her.

His hopes were dashed, however, when Harry cried out in a loud, excited voice. "Hermione!"

Hermione turned her head, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Harry. A sharp sting of jealousy Ron hadn't felt in so long unexpectedly struck him in the chest. Incensed, he gritted his teeth, internally cursing himself for being so goddamn weak.

Hermione Granger did not have a hold on him. Not anymore.

"Harry! Oh how are you?!" Hermione squealed as she ran towards them and threw her arms around Harry's neck, ignoring Ron completely.

He hadn't gotten a hug. Not that he wanted one, of course. But still.

Ron stood there and watched the scene with a sick feeling in his gut. He'd never told Harry about Hermione being in love with him. He wondered if she still felt the same way, but pushed the thought aside. It had been a long time ago, after all. The thought then occurred to Ron that Hermione might even be with someone else now. He looked, but didn't see a ring on her finger. Even if she wasn't married, though, she could still be in a relationship- a thought that caused Ron more discomfort than he was willing to admit.

No longer able to watch, Ron cleared his throat and looked away, listening as Harry and Hermione talked excitedly about random things in their lives as if he weren't even there.

"Ron told me you were back and I couldn't believe it!"

The sound of his name caused Ron to again look their way, and when he did, he caught Hermione's gaze on him.

"Oh, really?" she asked, her eyes on Ron though she was speaking to Harry. "I'm surprised Ron said anything about me at all. He didn't seem very pleased to see me earlier."

Ron forced a smile onto his face. "On the contrary, Hermione. I'm thrilled that you're back!" he said in an overly enthusiastic voice. "I've missed you so much since you left!"

Hermione's eyes narrowed and her mouth opened to respond, but Harry cut her off before she could. "Don't listen to him, Hermione. What are you doing here?"

The words brought Hermione's attention back to Harry. "I was here for an interview. I got the job and I start a week from today!"

"That's amazing!" Harry exclaimed. "We're going to be working in the same building! Did you hear that Ginny and I are getting married?"

Hermione squealed and again threw her arms around Harry's neck.

That was two hugs now. Whatever. Ron wasn't keeping count.

Feeling awkward as fuck, he watched the pair as Hermione gushed and asked Harry questions about his upcoming wedding. Ron listened half-heartedly, wanting to be anywhere other than there. Ron wasn't entirely sure which one, but either Hermione was really over Harry, or she was a damn talented actress and only pretending to be happy for him.

"So you'll come?" Harry asked Hermione, snapping Ron out of his thoughts.

"What? Come where?" Ron interjected.

Harry turned to Ron. "To the engagement party on Friday night."

Ron shook his head. This was too much too soon. "There's- there's only a certain number of seats," he sputtered, trying to quickly come up with a legitimate excuse to why Hermione couldn't come to the Burrow on Friday. Seeing her here at the Ministry was one thing, but having her at his family home was another.

"Nonsense," Harry said to Hermione. "You know Molly, she'll make room. And everyone else will be so glad to see you."

Ron again shook his head. "I don't think Mum's shopped for enough food for an extra person, Harry."

Harry turned, giving him an exasperated look. "Ron, you know as well as I do that it's no problem."

Ron looked at Hermione, who met his stare, her face hard as if she were accepting some sort of challenge. "I'd love to come, Harry," she finally said, making Ron resist the urge to groan. "I'll see you Friday, then?"

Harry beamed, and he gave Hermione one last hug before she turned around and sauntered off, her shoulders back.

Three.

Once she was far enough away not to overhear them, Harry turned to Ron and nudged his shoulder. "What the hell, Ron! Why can't you be nice?"

Ron glared at Hermione's retreating form. "I'll play nice if she does."

"Honestly," Harry started as they continued their walk. "You two will figure it out eventually. I just know it. We aren't teenagers anymore, you know."

Ron thought about the horrible heartbreak Hermione had inflicted on him. He remembered how he'd laid in bed every night missing her and blaming himself for her leaving. Self hatred hadn't been new to him, but it had never before been to that extent until after she'd left. Back then, he would have done anything to change things, would have done anything to make her love him. Even though he'd been young, Ron had undoubtedly been in love with her- so much to the point it was scary.

No, they certainly weren't teenagers anymore.