These characters do not belong to me. They are the creations of JK Rowling. The song "Never Had a Dream
Come True" is by S Club 7.
~~~Somewhere in my memory I've lost all sense of time
And tomorrow can never be, because yesterday is all that fills my mind~~~
Hermione wandered aimlessly through Muggle London. It was her day off, and she didn't feel like going back to
her flat and wasting the May sunshine. "First sunshine we've had since September," she said to herself. "Damn
English weather."
Hermione was now a full-fledged Unspeakable. She rarely worked full-time now, but she was still considered one
of the most skilled members of her profession. At only 28 years of age, this was quite an achievement. But the
glory had been balanced out with a good share of terrible experiences, too. Hermione had had a difficult life, but
none of it needed to be thought about on such a beautiful day as this. The only outward sign of her trials was the
pale scar under her left eye and the look in her eyes that said she had seen more of the world than she deserved.
She walked along the Muggle streets, vaguely glancing into the shop windows. Suddenly she stopped. There in
front of her was the Leaky Cauldron, and next to it the entrance to Diagon Alley. The people around her didn't
seem to see the small pub, but Hermione was staring at it open-mouthed. Not because she hadn't seen it before,
not because it had changed in any way.
It was because she had just seen a tall, red-haired man walk into it.
Hermione ran towards the pub, past confused Muggles. She didn't care what this looked like. She just had to
know... if it was him...
She pushed the door open and looked around. He wasn't there. It was just full of the regular customers, looking at
her rather oddly. Hermione turned to the bar, trying to catch her breath. She had been so sure...
"Want a drink, Hermione?" She jumped, but it was just Tom, the old barman.
"No thanks, Tom," she said, still scanning the room.
"And how's Elizabeth?" Tom asked kindly. Hermione was one of his favorite customers, even though she didn't
normally buy a drink.
"Lizzie's fine," Hermione said. She had been so sure... "Tom," she said eventually, making up her mind, "you
haven't seen -"
"Hi, Hermione."
Hermione spun around. There he was.
"Ron!" she gasped. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Well, that's nice, isn't it," he said, grinning. Hermione noticed that his voice had a slight American edge to it. "My
first time back in nearly ten years, and this is how you greet me?"
"Sorry," said Hermione, trying to regain her composure. "Sorry. Umm, let's sit down."
They sat down at a small table at the back of the pub. Tom smiled at them from the bar.
"God, this is strange!" said Hermione at last. "I mean, the last time I saw you..." she trailed off. "Well, let's not go
into that. But, you know, one day I'm just strolling along through London and you turn up out of the blue -"
"Yeah, sorry about that. I suppose I should have owled you." Ron looked a bit guilty for a moment. "But I really
wasn't expecting to see you. I mean, you know, we've lost touch over the years -"
"What do you mean 'lost touch'?" said Hermione angrily. "The last letter you ever wrote was the note you left.
You didn't even write to Harry, and you said you would!"
"Well, I got caught up in work."
"For ten years? Oh, yes, of course, because important Gringotts officials never get days off, do they?" The sarcasm
in Hermione's voice made Ron wince.
"Look, can't we just forget all that?" he asked, a note of desperation in his voice. "I know I've been pretty terrible,
but I'm here now. Can't we just talk for a bit?" Hermione still looked cross, so he said, "Tell you what. I'll take you
out to dinner to apologize. Can't say fairer than that, can I?"
Suddenly Hermione looked at her watch. "Oh God!" she said, standing up. "I need to go and pick Lizzie up.
Umm... you come with me. We'll continue this conversation on the way there."
"What?" said Ron, confused. "Who's Lizzie?"
"Can we walk and talk at the same time please?" Hermione insisted. "Otherwise I'll be late."
When they were a few yards out of the pub, Ron tried again. "Who's Lizzie?"
"She's my daughter," said Hermione, carefully avoiding looking at Ron. "She's four. I need to pick her up at
quarter past three."
They walked in silence as Ron tried to comprehend this. "Your daughter?"
"Yes, Ron, my daughter," said Hermione exasperatedly. "All right?"
"Yeah... does Harry know about this?"
"Of course Harry knows. He actually lives this side of the Atlantic. He helps me look after her sometimes when I
can't get off work."
"And her father...?"
"He left," said Hermione shortly. "Before she was born." She looked up at him. "Just leave it Ron, I don't really
need this right now."
"Sorry," he said quickly. "I just can't believe I don't know something like this. Couldn't you have written?"
"I suppose so," said Hermione. "But I was a bit mixed up at the time, so I never really got around to it. The
school's just around this corner."
"School?" Ron said. "She's not a witch?"
"Of course she's a witch," said Hermione. "At least, I'd be very surprised if she wasn't. It would have been too
complicated having her at home all the time, so I decided she might as well occupy herself with learning things."
Hermione smiled. "A bit of maths and English never did anyone any harm."
Ron doubted this, but made no comment.
"And of course, I can't do much magic at home any more in case Lizzie tells someone by mistake. I think I may
have inadvertently given her teacher the impression that I work for the MI5. Well, I suppose you could almost say
I do, actually. The magical version of it anyway." Hermione walked into the playground, and then stopped when
she realized that Ron wasn't following her. "Aren't you coming?"
Ron looked confused. "What, did you want me to?"
Hermione sighed. "Ron, I think it's time you saw the inside of a Muggle school, don't you?" Ron still looked
doubtful, so she said, "It won't kill you, you know."
Uncertainly, Ron followed her into the school. Hermione walked briskly through the corridors to her daughter's
classroom. Ron waited outside the classroom door nervously; he wasn't sure he'd ever been in the presence of so
many Muggles before. He looked at them appraisingly. He still couldn't see why his father was so fascinated with
them.
Eventually Hermione came out of the classroom, holding a small satchel in one hand, and the hand of a small
dark-haired girl in the other. The little girl was talking animatedly to Hermione, but this stopped when she saw
Ron.
Lizzie stood in silence for a minute, staring. "Who's this?" she said eventually.
"My friend Ron," said Hermione kindly. "He's going to have dinner at our house tonight."
"Oh," said Lizzie, still staring. "I know him. He's the other one in the picture."
Hermione laughed. "Yes, he is, although I'm surprised you recognize him. Come on, let's go."
~~~You'll always be the dream that fills my head
Yes you will, say you will, you know you will
You'll always be the one I know I'll never forget~~~
It was after dinner in Hermione's flat. Lizzie was in bed, and Hermione was washing up. Ron sat on the sofa
silently.
"What are you thinking?" Hermione asked curiously.
"I was just wondering how you bear living as a Muggle like this," said Ron. "I mean, cooking, cleaning... doesn't it
get really boring?"
Hermione laughed and came into the sitting room. "Yes, it does. But I think it's worth it. And it's not like I never
use any magic at all."
"And what was that picture that Lizzie was talking about?" asked Ron curiously. "The one she said I was in?"
Hermione smiled. "Here it is," she said, walking over to the mantelpiece and picking it up. "It's a nice photograph,
I like it." She handed it to Ron.
It was a photograph of Harry, Hermione and Ron wearing their school robes, arms around each other. What
fansinated Ron most that it wasn't moving. It had to be a Muggle photograph, but Ron couldn't recall ever having
a Muggle photo taken.
"When was this taken?" he asked.
"Fifth or sixth year, I think," said Hermione, looking at it.
"Why isn't it moving?"
"Well, I did just say that I do magic sometimes, didn't I?" said Hermione airily. "I froze it."
"Oh," said Ron, putting the photo back.
There was a pause.
"I'm glad you like Lizzie," said Hermione.
"Yes," said Ron vaguely. "She's lovely." He turned to look at Hermione. "I want you to tell me the truth about
something, Hermione."
"What's that?"
Ron took a deep breath. "Is Harry Lizzie's father?"
Hermione looked at him strangely for a moment, and then laughed. "What on earth made you think that?"
Ron looked uncomfortable. "Well, you said her father left, and you said Harry takes care of her sometimes, and
neither of you ever wrote to tell me. So I thought..."
"That we'd been together and then had a tiff?" said Hermione, still smiling. Then she looked serious. "Ron, did you
really think that I'd lie to you about something like that?"
"Yes. I mean, no, not really..." Ron waved his hands in front of him, trying to find words to say what he had been
thinking. "I was just worried, that while I'd been away you two had... and that... well, I could never bear it if Harry
had hurt you." He looked at her again. "I could never bear it if anyone hurt you."
Hermione tried not to look as flustered as she felt. "Well, Ron, I'm afraid it's a bit late for that. When you could
have helped you were three thousand miles away," she said bitterly. "Oh, I know it's not your fault. But please
don't try to impress me with noble words now, because it won't work."
Ron was silent for a moment, because he knew that Hermione was right. Hermione was silent too, because she
was still trying to understand why Ron had said what he said.
"Hermione," said Ron after a few seconds. "I just want you to know how proud of you I am."
"What?"
"Living like this. Living as a Muggle, bringing up a beautiful daughter with no one to help you, having such a
wonderful flat," said Ron waving his arms around again. "My flat looks more like a rubbish dump. And you're so
good at your job. No, don't try to deny it, everyone's heard of you in Salem, too. And you did it all yourself." Ron
paused. "And I love you for it."
"Ron!" said Hermione, jumping up off the sofa. "This has gone quite far enough!" To her annoyance she felt tears
coming to her eyes. "This is insane!"
Ron stood up quickly beside her. "But it isn't!" he insisted. "Why would it be?"
"It's too difficult!" Hermione sobbed. "We'd fight, and upset each other, and you'd be in Salem and I'd be here..."
She looked up at him. "Can't you see that?"
"Yes," said Ron slowly. "Yes, I can see that. But if I just leave now, if I just walk out this door and never see you
again... wouldn't that just be taking the easy way out? And didn't you always say that the hard way is better for
everyone in the long run, and that it makes you a better person? Weren't you always the one who yelled at me if I
didn't do my homework or didn't try my hardest? Didn't you always try to stop me taking the easy way? Didn't
you?"
Hermione just stared at him. Then, quite suddenly, she burst into tears and fell into his arms. "Don't leave," she
whispered. "I've had that too many times. Please say you're not the same as all the others."
Ron pushed her away and looked at her face. "I thought you knew me," he said. He leaned forward slowly and
kissed her, and for the first time they both knew what they were doing and why.
As she stood there with Ron, Hermione's thoughts ran riot. I'll have to let him go, she thought. I can't stay with
him forever, he'll leave me, and I could never bare to be hurt by him. I can't stay here like this, I have to tell him to
leave now before we get too involved. I have to. There is no other option.
But in her heart, Hermione knew that none of that was true. She could never let Ron go, no matter what. After all,
that would be the easy option, wouldn't it?
~~~There's no use looking back or wondering
Because love is a strange and funny thing
No matter how I try and try
I just can't say goodbye~~~
Lizzie stood outside the door in her pajamas, blanket in hand, watching her mum kiss Ron. Although she was only
four, although she had no idea she was a witch or that her mother had once helped to defeat the most evil wizard
in the world, Lizzie knew true love when she saw it. She had seen "Cinderella", after all. And "Sleeping Beauty".
"I've got a daddy now," she whispered proudly, and she tiptoed off to bed.
A/N: So there we go, my lovely songfic is finished! I officially have no excuse not to write anymore, exams are
over, as is the school trip to Germany. I love songfics. They make my life so much easier. Do you know what I did
in Germany? I bought "Harry Potter und der Stein der Weisen", in other words, HP and the Philosopher's Stone in
German! Yes, I know I'm mad! Especially as I've only been learning German for two years! It's quite fun to read,
though. And I have learnt something - "Gift" in German means "poison." So be careful. And did you know, they
spell Hermione "Hermine"? Anyway, R/R. I hope you've enjoyed this fic!
Come True" is by S Club 7.
~~~Somewhere in my memory I've lost all sense of time
And tomorrow can never be, because yesterday is all that fills my mind~~~
Hermione wandered aimlessly through Muggle London. It was her day off, and she didn't feel like going back to
her flat and wasting the May sunshine. "First sunshine we've had since September," she said to herself. "Damn
English weather."
Hermione was now a full-fledged Unspeakable. She rarely worked full-time now, but she was still considered one
of the most skilled members of her profession. At only 28 years of age, this was quite an achievement. But the
glory had been balanced out with a good share of terrible experiences, too. Hermione had had a difficult life, but
none of it needed to be thought about on such a beautiful day as this. The only outward sign of her trials was the
pale scar under her left eye and the look in her eyes that said she had seen more of the world than she deserved.
She walked along the Muggle streets, vaguely glancing into the shop windows. Suddenly she stopped. There in
front of her was the Leaky Cauldron, and next to it the entrance to Diagon Alley. The people around her didn't
seem to see the small pub, but Hermione was staring at it open-mouthed. Not because she hadn't seen it before,
not because it had changed in any way.
It was because she had just seen a tall, red-haired man walk into it.
Hermione ran towards the pub, past confused Muggles. She didn't care what this looked like. She just had to
know... if it was him...
She pushed the door open and looked around. He wasn't there. It was just full of the regular customers, looking at
her rather oddly. Hermione turned to the bar, trying to catch her breath. She had been so sure...
"Want a drink, Hermione?" She jumped, but it was just Tom, the old barman.
"No thanks, Tom," she said, still scanning the room.
"And how's Elizabeth?" Tom asked kindly. Hermione was one of his favorite customers, even though she didn't
normally buy a drink.
"Lizzie's fine," Hermione said. She had been so sure... "Tom," she said eventually, making up her mind, "you
haven't seen -"
"Hi, Hermione."
Hermione spun around. There he was.
"Ron!" she gasped. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"Well, that's nice, isn't it," he said, grinning. Hermione noticed that his voice had a slight American edge to it. "My
first time back in nearly ten years, and this is how you greet me?"
"Sorry," said Hermione, trying to regain her composure. "Sorry. Umm, let's sit down."
They sat down at a small table at the back of the pub. Tom smiled at them from the bar.
"God, this is strange!" said Hermione at last. "I mean, the last time I saw you..." she trailed off. "Well, let's not go
into that. But, you know, one day I'm just strolling along through London and you turn up out of the blue -"
"Yeah, sorry about that. I suppose I should have owled you." Ron looked a bit guilty for a moment. "But I really
wasn't expecting to see you. I mean, you know, we've lost touch over the years -"
"What do you mean 'lost touch'?" said Hermione angrily. "The last letter you ever wrote was the note you left.
You didn't even write to Harry, and you said you would!"
"Well, I got caught up in work."
"For ten years? Oh, yes, of course, because important Gringotts officials never get days off, do they?" The sarcasm
in Hermione's voice made Ron wince.
"Look, can't we just forget all that?" he asked, a note of desperation in his voice. "I know I've been pretty terrible,
but I'm here now. Can't we just talk for a bit?" Hermione still looked cross, so he said, "Tell you what. I'll take you
out to dinner to apologize. Can't say fairer than that, can I?"
Suddenly Hermione looked at her watch. "Oh God!" she said, standing up. "I need to go and pick Lizzie up.
Umm... you come with me. We'll continue this conversation on the way there."
"What?" said Ron, confused. "Who's Lizzie?"
"Can we walk and talk at the same time please?" Hermione insisted. "Otherwise I'll be late."
When they were a few yards out of the pub, Ron tried again. "Who's Lizzie?"
"She's my daughter," said Hermione, carefully avoiding looking at Ron. "She's four. I need to pick her up at
quarter past three."
They walked in silence as Ron tried to comprehend this. "Your daughter?"
"Yes, Ron, my daughter," said Hermione exasperatedly. "All right?"
"Yeah... does Harry know about this?"
"Of course Harry knows. He actually lives this side of the Atlantic. He helps me look after her sometimes when I
can't get off work."
"And her father...?"
"He left," said Hermione shortly. "Before she was born." She looked up at him. "Just leave it Ron, I don't really
need this right now."
"Sorry," he said quickly. "I just can't believe I don't know something like this. Couldn't you have written?"
"I suppose so," said Hermione. "But I was a bit mixed up at the time, so I never really got around to it. The
school's just around this corner."
"School?" Ron said. "She's not a witch?"
"Of course she's a witch," said Hermione. "At least, I'd be very surprised if she wasn't. It would have been too
complicated having her at home all the time, so I decided she might as well occupy herself with learning things."
Hermione smiled. "A bit of maths and English never did anyone any harm."
Ron doubted this, but made no comment.
"And of course, I can't do much magic at home any more in case Lizzie tells someone by mistake. I think I may
have inadvertently given her teacher the impression that I work for the MI5. Well, I suppose you could almost say
I do, actually. The magical version of it anyway." Hermione walked into the playground, and then stopped when
she realized that Ron wasn't following her. "Aren't you coming?"
Ron looked confused. "What, did you want me to?"
Hermione sighed. "Ron, I think it's time you saw the inside of a Muggle school, don't you?" Ron still looked
doubtful, so she said, "It won't kill you, you know."
Uncertainly, Ron followed her into the school. Hermione walked briskly through the corridors to her daughter's
classroom. Ron waited outside the classroom door nervously; he wasn't sure he'd ever been in the presence of so
many Muggles before. He looked at them appraisingly. He still couldn't see why his father was so fascinated with
them.
Eventually Hermione came out of the classroom, holding a small satchel in one hand, and the hand of a small
dark-haired girl in the other. The little girl was talking animatedly to Hermione, but this stopped when she saw
Ron.
Lizzie stood in silence for a minute, staring. "Who's this?" she said eventually.
"My friend Ron," said Hermione kindly. "He's going to have dinner at our house tonight."
"Oh," said Lizzie, still staring. "I know him. He's the other one in the picture."
Hermione laughed. "Yes, he is, although I'm surprised you recognize him. Come on, let's go."
~~~You'll always be the dream that fills my head
Yes you will, say you will, you know you will
You'll always be the one I know I'll never forget~~~
It was after dinner in Hermione's flat. Lizzie was in bed, and Hermione was washing up. Ron sat on the sofa
silently.
"What are you thinking?" Hermione asked curiously.
"I was just wondering how you bear living as a Muggle like this," said Ron. "I mean, cooking, cleaning... doesn't it
get really boring?"
Hermione laughed and came into the sitting room. "Yes, it does. But I think it's worth it. And it's not like I never
use any magic at all."
"And what was that picture that Lizzie was talking about?" asked Ron curiously. "The one she said I was in?"
Hermione smiled. "Here it is," she said, walking over to the mantelpiece and picking it up. "It's a nice photograph,
I like it." She handed it to Ron.
It was a photograph of Harry, Hermione and Ron wearing their school robes, arms around each other. What
fansinated Ron most that it wasn't moving. It had to be a Muggle photograph, but Ron couldn't recall ever having
a Muggle photo taken.
"When was this taken?" he asked.
"Fifth or sixth year, I think," said Hermione, looking at it.
"Why isn't it moving?"
"Well, I did just say that I do magic sometimes, didn't I?" said Hermione airily. "I froze it."
"Oh," said Ron, putting the photo back.
There was a pause.
"I'm glad you like Lizzie," said Hermione.
"Yes," said Ron vaguely. "She's lovely." He turned to look at Hermione. "I want you to tell me the truth about
something, Hermione."
"What's that?"
Ron took a deep breath. "Is Harry Lizzie's father?"
Hermione looked at him strangely for a moment, and then laughed. "What on earth made you think that?"
Ron looked uncomfortable. "Well, you said her father left, and you said Harry takes care of her sometimes, and
neither of you ever wrote to tell me. So I thought..."
"That we'd been together and then had a tiff?" said Hermione, still smiling. Then she looked serious. "Ron, did you
really think that I'd lie to you about something like that?"
"Yes. I mean, no, not really..." Ron waved his hands in front of him, trying to find words to say what he had been
thinking. "I was just worried, that while I'd been away you two had... and that... well, I could never bear it if Harry
had hurt you." He looked at her again. "I could never bear it if anyone hurt you."
Hermione tried not to look as flustered as she felt. "Well, Ron, I'm afraid it's a bit late for that. When you could
have helped you were three thousand miles away," she said bitterly. "Oh, I know it's not your fault. But please
don't try to impress me with noble words now, because it won't work."
Ron was silent for a moment, because he knew that Hermione was right. Hermione was silent too, because she
was still trying to understand why Ron had said what he said.
"Hermione," said Ron after a few seconds. "I just want you to know how proud of you I am."
"What?"
"Living like this. Living as a Muggle, bringing up a beautiful daughter with no one to help you, having such a
wonderful flat," said Ron waving his arms around again. "My flat looks more like a rubbish dump. And you're so
good at your job. No, don't try to deny it, everyone's heard of you in Salem, too. And you did it all yourself." Ron
paused. "And I love you for it."
"Ron!" said Hermione, jumping up off the sofa. "This has gone quite far enough!" To her annoyance she felt tears
coming to her eyes. "This is insane!"
Ron stood up quickly beside her. "But it isn't!" he insisted. "Why would it be?"
"It's too difficult!" Hermione sobbed. "We'd fight, and upset each other, and you'd be in Salem and I'd be here..."
She looked up at him. "Can't you see that?"
"Yes," said Ron slowly. "Yes, I can see that. But if I just leave now, if I just walk out this door and never see you
again... wouldn't that just be taking the easy way out? And didn't you always say that the hard way is better for
everyone in the long run, and that it makes you a better person? Weren't you always the one who yelled at me if I
didn't do my homework or didn't try my hardest? Didn't you always try to stop me taking the easy way? Didn't
you?"
Hermione just stared at him. Then, quite suddenly, she burst into tears and fell into his arms. "Don't leave," she
whispered. "I've had that too many times. Please say you're not the same as all the others."
Ron pushed her away and looked at her face. "I thought you knew me," he said. He leaned forward slowly and
kissed her, and for the first time they both knew what they were doing and why.
As she stood there with Ron, Hermione's thoughts ran riot. I'll have to let him go, she thought. I can't stay with
him forever, he'll leave me, and I could never bare to be hurt by him. I can't stay here like this, I have to tell him to
leave now before we get too involved. I have to. There is no other option.
But in her heart, Hermione knew that none of that was true. She could never let Ron go, no matter what. After all,
that would be the easy option, wouldn't it?
~~~There's no use looking back or wondering
Because love is a strange and funny thing
No matter how I try and try
I just can't say goodbye~~~
Lizzie stood outside the door in her pajamas, blanket in hand, watching her mum kiss Ron. Although she was only
four, although she had no idea she was a witch or that her mother had once helped to defeat the most evil wizard
in the world, Lizzie knew true love when she saw it. She had seen "Cinderella", after all. And "Sleeping Beauty".
"I've got a daddy now," she whispered proudly, and she tiptoed off to bed.
A/N: So there we go, my lovely songfic is finished! I officially have no excuse not to write anymore, exams are
over, as is the school trip to Germany. I love songfics. They make my life so much easier. Do you know what I did
in Germany? I bought "Harry Potter und der Stein der Weisen", in other words, HP and the Philosopher's Stone in
German! Yes, I know I'm mad! Especially as I've only been learning German for two years! It's quite fun to read,
though. And I have learnt something - "Gift" in German means "poison." So be careful. And did you know, they
spell Hermione "Hermine"? Anyway, R/R. I hope you've enjoyed this fic!