Chapter Three
The next two weeks were dull, but bearable. True to his word, Ron wrote Hermione nearly every day. His letters never mentioned Harry or Ginny, and she knew that he left them out on purpose, knowing that their disappearance upset her. She was grateful, and tried to return the favour, writing not about old memories, but of her plans for the future, or just conversation. Her parents were happy to see her cheerful again, so they didn't press on the matter of her relationship with Ron.
Actually, Hermione herself wasn't exactly sure about where she and Ron were going. They had been open with each other for a mere two days before the attack before they were separated. During that time period he had kissed her on one occasion, and almost kissed her on a second. Though he had warm, compassionate even, in Diagon Alley, he hadn't really given her any reason to believe they would amount to anything. The recent events had changed them so much, and there was no telling if she might hate him when she got to know him again.
Still, she thought, one afternoon, if you're going to go on looks alone… She grinned to herself, looking back at the photograph Ron had sent with his last letter. Pig was lying winded on the bed, (having hit the wall a moment before) recuperating, and waiting for her to write her reply. Her grin was partly accounted for by Pig, partly by the Ron's picture. It showed him wrestling with one of the twins, (it was impossible to tell which one) outside the Burrow. Apparently, Charlie had taken it on a trip home. There were scads of girls who went for looks first, then worried about personality. She grinned to herself at the prospect. If worst came to worst, she could always try to come to like the person he had become.
The thought of looks- and girls- brought another odd thought into her head. Ron must have dated a bit during the time they were apart. Judging by his current appearance, she didn't think he would have been left alone. There were plenty of sharks out there in the world, and she would have to be careful. I'll have to ask him about that on the train, she thought, then winced. But that could be horribly embarrassing…
Hermione looked up at the calendar above her desk. It was August 31st. Tomorrow she would board the train that would take her to Hogwarts. She could see all her old friends again, and teachers. She grinned. And Ron. Quickly, she scribbled a short note to him and gave it to Pig, who snatched eagerly, it and somersaulted out the window. She watched him go, laughing. Crazy bird. Ten o'clock. She had better go to bed. Tomorrow would be a big day. She yawned and fell onto her bed, and was asleep before she hit the pillow.
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