To my reviewers: Oh, Goodness, I really DO appreciate your comments – it's what makes me keep writing, really. I'm so very glad that people enjoy my story! If you've merely commented, thank you very much – and please continue to make me a happy woman by doing so! Of course, there are those who have questions, so I'll take this bit to address them:
Indus: It's hard for me to write in too much conflict, oh, I just want to make them be happy forever! J
Annabelle: Tee hee… I like Xandie, and not just for the obvious reason (this reason is obvious only to me – figure it out, and you get a cookie).
wmlaw: Oh yes, physical romance, I FINALLY got to it. It's hard to not write a bit of a love scene, hehe…
SilverFlame: I'm not sure at all how many chapters this story will have! To be totally honest, I kind of write it as it comes – so far it's been coming fast, but I don't know if it'll stay at that pace. I think - perhaps, mind – that maybe less then five. This could change though.
Psychic: Oh, don't feel guilty about asking after Malfoy – I don't blame you. If someone wrote a fic with the characters after school and didn't mention Ron, I'd be absolutely livid, and enquire immediately! Read on, love…
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Awake, Lady
Chapter Four: How Deep the River Flows
Hermione's hand was resting on something soft and silky, like spun silk. Senses slowly came to her. The sunlight sunk through her closed eyes, mellow and soothing, the cool air of the room refreshing her. She was fully awake before she opened her eyes, and her breathing had deepened. She felt Xandie curled against her chest, and for a moment, indulged herself in the fantasy that the girl was not her niece, but her daughter, cuddled with her mother to be warm and safe, away from bad dreams and monsters of the night. A little daughter with bright red hair, soft, just like Ron's… part of Ron, part of her. She sighed and felt the child stir against her, mumbling incoherently.
It wouldn't do her any good to pretend. For now, she scolded herself, she needed to find out just what Ron thought was so different about himself, why he wouldn't let her love him. In her mind, just days had passed since she had seen his boyish face. Now, she knew he was a man. Just days ago, in her memory, he had blushed hotly when she slipped his hand into his on their way back to Hogwarts after a day in Hogsmeade. During those last few days in seventh year, right before the accident, Ron had noticed Hermione becoming bolder in her affections. Even though she knew Ron was hers, she had wanted to reassure him of that fact. Sometimes, when he looked at her, his face drooped sadly, and she wondered if she knew just how much she meant to him – after all, Ron had never had great self esteem, had he?
Though she was only seventeen, Hermione had loved him with all her heart, she had shyly and somewhat reluctantly admitted to herself one day late in her sixth year. Thoughts of his children – her children… their children were not new, that was true… but now things were different.
Lying in bed, a twenty-four year old Hermione mulled over these thoughts. She had known what she wanted at seventeen – she knew what she wanted now. Problem was, for her, those ages were mere moments apart, and Ron thought that it would change her love for him. Before her accident, she had known Ron in so many incarnations – a boy who hated her, a boy who loved to hate her, her best friend, a boy who hated to love her, and finally, he had admitted, a boy who wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. She knew without a doubt that no matter how much Ron thought he had changed, her feelings hadn't, and wouldn't. Now, only to convince him of that.
That was for later. Right now, the sun was streaming directly down upon the heavy coverlet, and Hermione was growing uncomfortably warm. Slitting her eyes open, she saw that Xandie had returned to a serene sleep, not seeming to mind the warmth. Hermione gently pulled her arm from under the girl's neck and slipped quietly out of bed.
She pulled open the door to her room crossed the hall. She was having no trouble walking now, though her legs ached a bit, as if she had been exercising. She stretched as she walked and opened the bathroom door and began to pull her long nightgown over her body.
All at once, Hermione realized that her skin was damp with steam. Though the shower was not running, a white mist hung in the air heavily. She gasped and averted her eyes. Ron was across the large bathroom, wiping off his face, dressed in nothing more then a towel draped around his slim waist. When he heard her gasp, he had turned to face her, and had immediately frozen. Though Hermione was no longer looking at him, he tightened the towel and fumbled to secure it better.
Hermione glanced up quickly again. "Hello."
Ron smiled timidly and ran a small towel over his hair. "I'll go ahead and leave. You can use it… sorry about that. I didn't realize you'd be up this early – thought you'd want to sleep. I'll… I'll just go now, all right? Right. Yes."
He glanced down and back quickly, face reddening. "Your gown" he said, sounding uncomfortable. "It's… mussed." Hermione blushed as she realized that her nightgown was revealing an unladylike amount of thigh, and she quickly pushed it down. She nodded at the ground, and Ron made his way past her, turning in the doorway to accommodate them both. When he turned, his head neatly skimmed over hers, and she enveloped in the smell of soap and… she didn't know. Ron. That was the only way she could ever explain it.
She snapped the door shut and twisted the lock, hands shaking. She had never been near Ron in such a – a-…. She blushed again. A sexual situation. That was almost as bad as muggle romance novels, for goodness sake! She shook her head and attempted to turn her mind to the day ahead of her.
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Ron swiftly made his way back to his room, shutting the door (perhaps a little too hard). He dried his hair and changed into his clothes for the day, dark blue robes with black lining at the sleeves and bottom. He had safely diverted his mind to the workload he was going to have when his weeklong vacation was over. Of course, his boss had insisted on at least a seven-day vacation, though he had asked only for four days off when Hermione had awoken. Ron smiled as he remembered what his supervisor had told him. "Cant have my best man troubled with what's going on at home, can I, Ron? I expect you to tend to what's more important." He said this with a small smirk on his face. Though Ron had never explained exactly what was going on in his home life, Robbie was by no means stupid – he remembered the stories in the Daily Prophet during his third year on the job.
Ron still couldn't believe she was back. Seven years of watching her still face, holding her hand, lying by her motionless body… it had finally paid off. There were still things she didn't know, things she'd have to cope with, eventually… who had made her (or really, Ron) suffer those seven years… what had exactly happened to her… why they weren't able to wake her up. And then, there was him. Ron still loved Hermione as much (if not more) as he had the day of the attack. In his heart, he had been married to Hermione for nearly eight years – he loved her more then life itself. He'd die for her, kill for her, anything. But he wasn't going to let her believe that she loved someone she didn't. Oh, he knew that she at least thought she did – but why would she? Seven years would inevitably change a person, and no matter how much she loved him seven years ago, she wouldn't now.
Though a full-grown man, Ron still suffered from low self-esteem when it came to Hermione, rest of the world be damned. He didn't care about his work or impressing strangers, his boss, and sometimes even his family. All he cared about was her, now. He had been serious when he told Hermione that he was a changed man – he was now more sorrowful then he had been before, more serious, and less inclined to care about what most people thought of him. Hermione, however…
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Hermione rifled through her closet and dressed herself quickly, then sat on the bed and gently shook Xandie awake. "Come on, sweetie" she said softly. "Time to wake up."
The little girl woke slowly and smiled at Hermione. "Mm-kay, Auntie H'mione." She stretched and pushed the covers aside, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Hermione helped her get dressed, and then they went downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast.
Ron was making breakfast, long robes covered with a ridiculous looking apron. He pointed his wand at the stove, mixing together eggs and bacon and all sorts of things. Xandie ran to her Uncle and threw her arms around his legs.
"Uncle Rooooonnnn, hi! How did you sleep? I had a nightmare, but Auntie Hermione lemme sleep with her and now I'm better. What's for breakfast? Can I have chocolate pancakes? Please, please pretty please?" The girl's eyes grew wide and enquiring, and Ron laughed, picking her up.
"You, my darling" he said "are so adorable that I think I have to. It's a downright obligation, isn't it?" He swung her around, and her small face lit up with joy. "Now, Goose, why don't you show Auntie Hermione around the kitchen and set the table?"
The girl nodded and grabbed Hermione's hand. "C'mon, Auntie. See, here's the forks and knives and spoons, up there's the bowls and stuff."
Ron smiled down at Hermione as the girl introduced the kitchen to her. Shortly, the table was set, and Ron dropped a heap of chocolate chip pancakes much to high for her to eat in front of the small child. She laughed gleefully at the huge stack and began to dig in. Hermione helped herself to one smallish pancake and a piece of bacon, thinking she wouldn't eat much. It wasn't that she didn't trust Ron's cooking… oh, who was she kidding? Of course she didn't trust Ron's cooking! She had once watched his mother attempt to teach him how to poach and egg, and Ron had managed to make it fly around the room, spattering the kitchen in a vicious mess.
Ron served himself a stack of pancakes, a heap of eggs, two pieces of bacon, and a large mug of pumpkin juice and smiled at Hermione. Noticing she was simply moving around the food on her plate, not eating, he frowned.
"Is your stomach upset, Hermione?" He asked her, worried. "I can make you something easier to eat – soup or something, if you like. I mean, I know that's weird for breakfast, but mum says good old chicken broth settles your stomach…"
Hermione forced a grin. "No… it's fine, my stomach's not upset."
Ron's face suddenly changed into an evil smile. "You're thinking about the time mum tried to get me to fry an egg, aren't you?"
Despite herself, Hermione's smile became real and widened. "Actually," she said teasingly, "You were supposed to poach it. In any event, neither got done." He shook his head and loaded his fork with a large bite of chocolate chip pancakes, gesturing at her with it as he spoke.
"Now see here, missy. A lot of things have happened while you were asleep, and me being a gourmet cook is one of them. These…" he indicated with his fork, "Are the best pancakes from here to Scotland." He gave an over exaggerated sigh and gestured to his small niece, who apparently had an appetite to rival Hagrid's. "If she didn't like them, trust me – she wouldn't eat them. Decidedly finicky, that one. Now…" he stood up and crossed to where Hermione was sitting, still holding the heaping forkful of pancake. "I suggest you eat this before I make you." Though he tried to sound menacing, Hermione could only laugh as he made the fork dance in front of her face. Xandie had temporarily taken her attention away from her breakfast, and was watching her aunt and uncle with interest.
Hermione looked dubiously back and forth from Ron do the pancakes. It certainly smelled good, this was true… maybe it didn't taste so bad. She may as well trust Ron's food, she decided – she may be eating it for a while yet. After all she reminded herself sheepishly, you can't cook either, can you?
Ron was standing with one hand on his hip, leaning over Hermione, fork still poised. She rolled her eyes and reminded herself to tell Ron just how much he looked like his mother sometimes, then obediently opened her mouth.
Ron set the fork down and stood back, crossing his arms. He smiled smugly as Hermione's face broke into a large smile and she began to devour the food on her plate. He went back and sat in his own chair and smiled happily at her and his niece, who had turned back to her own food. When he attempted to retrieve her empty plate, Hermione slapped his hand and grinned at him. "I'd like to eat some more, if you don't mind." He laughed and cleared his own plate and began to clean the kitchen.
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Ron picked up Xandie, who promptly did the small-child-who-doesn't-want-to-be-held squirm. Ignoring her protests, he propped her up on his hip. "Say goodbye to Hermione, Goose. You've got to go home now."
The girl immediately began to whine. "I wanna go with you and Auntie, Uncle Roooonnnnnnn. Please? Please? Please?" Her eyes began to film over with tears and she struggled to get out of his arms again, leaning over and holding her arms out to Hermione. Hermione pulled the girl to her, though somewhat awkwardly. She hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead.
"It's ok, sweetie. You can come visit us anytime you want, you know. I'll be here for a while." She cast a meaningful glance at Ron, who nodded then looked into the fire, obviously pleased. "In the meantime, if I hear from your mum and dad that you've being a good girl, maybe I'll have a treat for you and your siblings." Xandie broke into a grin, her mock tears disappearing. "Now", said Hermione, "Into the fire with Uncle Ron. I'll see you later, I promise." Saying this, she handed the girl to Ron, who threw a pinch of Floo powder into the large fireplace, then walked into it.
After he had gone, Hermione went up to her room. She still hadn't really looked around it much, and was surprised to find a rather large pile of pictures in one drawer in the dresser. She made a mental note to herself to buy frames and boxes for them today. The rest of the dresser held a large assortment of clothing, both muggle and wizard. The nightstand next to her bed had only a single drawer, which housed a few hair clips and a small velvet box. Remembering what Ron and Harry had told her the previous night, she slowly opened the box to reveal the pieces of her broken wand, which had been reduced to eight large splinters. She sighed and tucked the box into her robes and pulled out one of the larger hair clips. She used it to secure her busy hair at her neck, and then turned to leave the room. She gasped and shrank back.
Ron had been standing behind her, watching her with forlorn eyes. She drew a calming breath and then swatted his arm.
"Don't do that!" she yelled.
He flinched and reached out a hand, dropping it on her shoulder. "I'm sorry – I didn't mean to scare you. I was just… I came up to get you. We might want to get going now, you know… We're already late." She nodded.
"That's fine… sorry for yelling. Where's Ginny?"
"She left earlier, went to Harry's flat." He grinned roguishly, looking like a teenager again. "Not even going to speculate what those two are up to."
Hermione looked at him, shocked. "You're ok with it, then?" He nodded. "You have changed, haven't you? Youd've never accepted that in school, the two of them."
He shrugged. "It's fine. I was only worried then because of Lord Voldemort. Her being related to me was bad enough – dating Harry would have put her directly in the line of fire."
"You said his name!" Hermione exclaimed, referring to the former Dark Lord.
He smiled and gave her back a pat. "We all do, now. It's easier that way…" He shrugged again. "We should get going, huh?" He took her elbow and they walked downstairs together.
"You first" he said, handing her the bag. "I'll come right after."
She nodded and threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fire and said "The Leaky Cauldron".
She walked into the fire and pulled her legs and arms close to her body, twisting and spinning. A moment later, she stumbled out of the fire and into the Leaky Cauldron, which apparently hadn't changed much. Tom let out a whoop of glee when he saw her stumble out, and come out from behind the bar, giving her a great hug.
"Lil' H'mione Granger, I'll be a damned old fool. I heard you were awake! S'good to see it's true, lil girl." He gave her a toothless grin and gestured towards a corner. "Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley are waiting over there for you." He gave her hand another squeeze and turned as someone else emerged from the fire.
"Hello, Tom." Ron and he stumbled out of the fire. "Good to see you again." Tom nodded, still smiling, and gestured towards Hermione's receding back. Ron followed and sat down on one side of the small square table, shooting a grin at his sister, who was holding Harry's hand.
Ginny smiled back and checked her watch. "You two are late, you know. You were supposed to meet us at eleven, and it's nearly half after." Ron shrugged and pointed at Hermione.
"Blame her", he said. "She had about four helpings of breakfast, so I couldn't floo Xandie home till eleven ten or so. Then, of course, Perc insisted on lecturing me about something…"
"What's that?" asked Ginny. Ron grinned.
"Who knows? I was ignoring him."
Hermione stifled a laugh, but shortly began to cough when Ron dropped his hand on top of hers and squeezed it good-naturedly. Ginny grinned and pushed her water at Hermione, who drank deeply before she stopped coughing.
Ron had moved his hand and was patting her back, laughing. "Something go down the wrong pipe, 'Mione?" She nodded and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Harry smiled at his friends and shot a significant look at Ginny. Nodding she stood up.
"Come on you two, we have a long day ahead of us. I'm sure Hermione has tons of shopping to do." Hermione smiled at Harry gratefully
"He's completely right. I need to go to Gringotts and withdraw money, then I need to go to Madam Malkin's – I really don't have many robes without the Hogwarts crest on them, these ones must be Ginny's, and I can't very well wear those the rest of my life. Let's see…" she thought out loud. "There were some pictures in the drawer in my room that appear to be from my collection. I'll need frames for those. Oh, and of course, I'll need a new wand." Her eyes suddenly lit up. "And books, oh, there'll be so many more new books now!"
Ron shook his head, standing. "Fine with me. Sounds like a day of hellish shopping for us, then."
Hermione cast him a glare. "You don't have to come, you know."
He held up his hands in defeat. "No, no, I'll come, and I'll be good." He grinned at her. "If you're lucky, I'll even make dinner tonight."
Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand and began to pull her to the back of the Leaky Cauldron. "If we let these two lead, we'll never get any shopping done!" She pulled out her wand and tapped the appropriate bricks in the wall, and the doorway to Diagon Alley opened in front of them.
At first glance, it seemed to be exactly as she remembered. Wizards and witches of all ages were bustling about the street, carrying assortments of packages and wearing cloaks of all colors and shades. Ginny and Hermione walked towards Gringotts, Harry and Ron behind them. The men sped up and appeared at the sides of their ladies, Harry putting an arm around Ginny's waist, and Ron clasping Hermione's elbow, as if he were a guardian leading on an orphaned child.. After a short, harrowing ride in a Gringotts cart (that certainly hadn't changed), the group made their way to Ollivander's.
Harry and Ginny agreed to wait outside while Hermione went with Ron into the store. Mr. Ollivander's cracked old face broke into a small smile when he looked up.
"Ah, Miss Granger. Oak, ten inches, unicorn hair. A bit ridged, wasn't it? You're here for another one, I suppose?" Hermione nodded and the old man made his way up a ladder and began to pull down long, thin boxes. Opening one, he handed her its contents. She waved the wand. Nothing. She tried wand after wand, to no avail. Ron had begun to look bored, and was slumped in a chair, arms crossed, brows knit..
"Rather tricky. That's all right – we'll figure it out. Lets see…" he rubbed his thumb against his chin, thinking. "This would be easier if you had kept your old wand, but…"
"Oh, is that what you need?" Hermione interrupted. "I'm sorry, I forgot – but I did bring it with me." She pulled the box out of her robes and handed it to Mr. Ollivander, who took it happily.
"This," he said, "Should make the process much easier. He opened the case, a look of sorrow on his face. "Unfortunate. But it does happen. In any event…" he set the pieces out on the counter and tapped his own wand directly in front of them. The shards began to glow red and the old proprietor directed his wand at the wall of wands to his left, then to his back, then his right. Four boxes in various places began to glow, and the gently floated down to the counter. He nodded, satisfied, and handed the wands to her one by one. The third wand she tried produced a flash of green and purple sparks when she pointed it towards the wall, shattering the shadows with their brightness. She smiled, and Mr. Ollivander softly clapped, his old wrinkled face breaking into a bit of a grin.
"Very well, Miss Granger. Six galleons, please." The old man held out his hand for the money, and Hermione began to dig into her money pouch for them.
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley. You two have a nice day."
Hermione looked up at the old man, who now had his back turned to her, and was depositing money into a register behind the counter. She looked at Ron, who unsmilingly nodded and tugged her out of the old shop by the elbow, the wand still in her hand.
When they got out into the street, Hermione again began to pull out her money pouch to pay Ron. When he saw what she was doing, he put his hand gently and impended her from opening the clasp.
"No." His voice sounded slightly irritated, and he looked around them silently. "Don't. If it makes you feel better, call it first month's rent."
She stared at him for a moment. Ron had never been particularly loose with his money, for obvious reasons.
"Well..." she began.
"Oy! You two! You were in there forever, I thought I was going to have a beard by the time you got out." Harry clapped Hermione on the shoulder and peered inquisitively to her hand. "Nice wand, 'Mione."
Hermione smiled and asked jokingly if he'd like to be a test subject for her first usage of the wand. Harry quickly stepped back, hands raised, and Ginny laughed. Ron was staring down the street, faced away his friends and sister.
Noticing his distemper, Ginny nudged him with her shoulder as she walked by him. "Come on, you great prat." She said as she went by. "Smile sometime. It'll do you good." Hermione thought she heard a note of sadness in the girl's voice, but in the next moment it disappeared, and Ginny had begun to walk down the street. "I think we should go to Madam Malkin's next, Hermione." She called over her shoulder. "Let the boys go look at Quality Quiddich Supplies – they'll only get bored and annoying."
Ron began to protest that he wanted to go with them, but Harry silenced him with a soft punch on the shoulder. "Hey, they've got a new Firebolt version. We should check it out. Besides, she's right – we will just get bored." With this, he pulled Ron into an adjacent street that led to the Quiddich supply store. Ginny linked her arm with Hermione's, and they silently made their way to Madam Malkin's.
It was nice, Hermione mused, to have some time with Ginny. Though she has been with Hermione most of the time in the last few days, they had rarely been alone. Everything had been so hectic, and there hadn't been any time to simply enjoy each other's company.
Upon entering Madam Malkin's, they were attacked by a flurry of colors. A very busy and hassled looking woman was attending to a girl and what could have only been her twin brother. The two children were probably no more then twelve, and were both fidgeting as she attempted to fit them for their robes. Their brown haired mother was in the corner talking with a young attendant with highly spiked purple hair. Hermione fought her giggles – the poor thing must have eaten one of Fred and George's candies. From what she understood, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was a popular store in Hogsmeade – she still hadn't had the chance to visit – and this girl's head seemed to be a good example of a trick gone right.
Ginny smiled at the woman fitting the two school age children, and nodded over at her young co-worker, who cast Hermione and Ginny an irritated look, then excused herself from the woman she was speaking to.
"Hey." She said, walking over. "My name's Lizzie. What do you need?" the girl had no trace of politeness in her voice, and the irritated look was still on her face. Ginny rolled her eyes and murmured so only Hermione could hear "good service." Louder: "We need to fit Hermione here for some robes. She'll need a complete wardrobe, I think – she doesn't really have anything." Lizzie cast Hermione a look of curiosity, her irritation dissipating. "Really? Nothing? How can you have no clothes?" she inquired nosily.
Hermione shrugged. "Oh, I do have some robes – just nothing without the Hogwarts crest on them.
The girl eyed her. "You're pretty old to only have Hogwarts robes. What, you been asleep since graduation?" she said sarcastically.
Hermione winced, and Ginny answered for her. "You could say that. Now please" she pulled Hermione up onto a raised pedestal. "Fit her. We're in rather a rush to leave."
Lizzie shrugged and turned to the counter to pick up a pincushion. Ginny mouthed "for the obvious reasons", and Hermione simply shook her head in amusement. The rude young girl threw an oversized black robe over her and with a few swishes of her wand, made it fit Hermione perfectly. She eyed the robe, satisfied, and began to move to a wall covered with nothing but rolls of fabric.. Her nosy, rude attitude had dissipated, and she was all business now.
"Will you need a cloak?" she asked, rifling through rolls of fabric lining the walls. Before Hermione answered, Lizzie turned to her, eyes slit. For a moment, Hermione felt very uncomfortable – the girl was just staring at her. Then, Lizzie broke into a smile, and said "yes." Quietly to herself.
"You need burgundy." She nodded and pointed her wand at several rolls of dark red fabric. "And black, of course – every witch needs black. And green. And purple." She turned scrutinizing to Hermione again. "No, no blue. You're not a blue, are you? No, you're not." She aimed her wand at a beautiful burgandy fabric swirled with silver roses. "Dress robes?" Hermione shook her head, but Ginny yelled "Yes!" and the red fabric joined a pile of other rolls on the table.
Hermione was beginning to become nervous. She needed clothes, but she didn't need a ton of them! "Ginny…" she began, nervously. "I don't know that the money I brought will…" Ginny turned to her, smiling, and squeezed her hand.
"Don't worry about it, Hermione. Ron and I will cover anything you can't afford – you can blame me!" she said happily. Hermione tried to protest, but was hushed by a flurry of fabrics in Lizzie's arms.
The girl held each up to Hermione, grunting to herself in pleasure or displeasure as she moved the fabric around her. At some point, Hermione realized the flurry of fabric was no longer being supported by the girl, and moments later all of the colors dropped to the ground. Lizzie held, in her arms, a pile of clothing, now shaped into robes and a heavy black cloak. She set the pile down and began to rifle through it, pulling out a set of dress robes made from the beautiful red and silver fabric.
She smiled, pleased, at it. "I know they all fit, but I want to see this one on you." She handed it to Hermione and shooed her into a fitting room.
Hermione slipped into the robes and began to fumble with the intricate buttons at the back of the robes. "Ginny!" she softly yelled. "Ginny, I can't button this!" She heard Lizzie tell Ginny to stay put. "If she can't do them herself, you wont be able to either. I made it kinda hard." There was a note of pride in her voice. "But it'll be great, trust me."
Lizzie entered the room and without a word began to loop the ties together at Hermione's back, buttoning and twisting. With a small "humh" of satisfaction, she pulled Hermione out of the room and onto the fitting pedestal. Hermione heard Ginny gasp, and looking into the mirror, she realized why. She looked wonderful. Hermione tilted her head and looked at herself. Ginny was feeling the material at her waist, and Lizzie had crossed her arms, a self-satisfied look on her face.
The dress dropped a little lower in the front then Hermione would have normally worn her clothes, but it wasn't totally immodest. The neckline was squared, and the robes fit tight on her waist, dropping and puffing out slowly from there on. The back was composed of a plethora of loops and buttons, and two long trails of sheer fabric cascaded down her back.
Hermione smiled at her mirror image and pulled her hair back. She turned to Lizzie.
"It's… very, very nice." She said softly. The girl smiled smugly. It was a very pretty dress. Rude or not, Lizzie sure knew what she was doing.
"I know. Let me go ring up the rest of your stuff, huh?" She turned and began to count the robes, occasionally turning to a small mirror behind the counter and brushing up her hair.
Hermione turned back towards the dressing room to change, still smiling. She was just stepping down from the pedestal when she heard an oddly heavy voice command her.
"Stop."
She looked towards the door, in the direction the order had come from. "Are you-" she began, annoyed that someone was ordering her around.
Ron was standing at the door of the shop, Harry behind him. His face was unreadable, and his arms were still at his sides. He was staring at her, and under his gaze, Hermione began to blush. Did she not look as good as she thought she did? Maybe he didn't like it. It was burgundy, after all, and burgundy and maroon are very close. Maybe she could get it in green. Maybe someone he knew someone that had one just like it. Maybe he'd stop staring at her soon.
Maybe she didn't want him to.
Ron put one hand to the back of his neck and bent his head, staring at the ground. "You look wonderful. I like that color on you." Hermione turned redder and smiled shyly at the ground. "Thank you, Ron." She said.
Lizzie then noticed Ron. Smiling, she walked out from behind the counter, fluffing her hair up. "Hello, sir." She said, her voice honeyed. "Can I help you? Some new robes?" She put her hand on his chest. "These ones pull tight across your chest. Muscled men have to buy robes more often, you know…"
Hermione's smile froze on her face. Was that awful girl actually coming on to Ron? He had been in the shop for less then thirty seconds! Of course he was cute – maybe he got that all the time, but how horribly rude of that girl!
She had no reason to worry, however. Ron was looking down at Lizzie, an expression of total annoyance on his face. He grabbed her wrist as if he would a spider, the annoyance shifting to distaste. He tossed her hand away and moved away from her. "No thanks." He said curtly. "I'm not interested. In fact, I'm really not interested. I have better… robes… at home.
Understanding dawned on Lizzie's face as Ron said this – he was, after all, still looking at Hermione. She sneered at him and glanced, irritated, at Hermione. He quickly shifted his gaze to his younger sister, silently pleading with her. Ginny strolled forward and grabbed the back of Lizzie's robes, pulling her towards the counter.
"We'd like to leave now, please." The girl glared at her then swung around and silently finished her adding. Hermione turned to the dressing room to put on her borrowed robes, smiling to herself. She heard nothing from the front room, and when she came out, her purchase was bagged and Lizzie wasn't in sight. Her co-worker had finished with the children long ago, and now gave Ron a pat on the back.
"Well then, let me see what she's added up… oh, there's a bit of a mistake on here I see…" She corrected the young girl's mistake and circled a number at the bottom of the paper. "Why, we almost cheated you. Bad addition, I'm sure." She grinned impishly at Ron, and handed the slip of paper to Hermione. Before she read it however, Ron pulled it from her hand and reached into his pocket.
Ron quieted her with a look when she began to protest, and she turned helplessly to Ginny. "I can't keep letting him pay for all my things!" she hissed at the red headed girl. Ginny rubbed her back. "Let him" she said quietly. "It makes him feel good. He's not doing it to make you uncomfortable – he just wants you to be happy.
The older store attendant smiled at Ron after she had deposited his money into the register and gestured to the unseen back room. "She's a fiery on, that. Best to stick with what you've got, though. You obviously agree." The witch laughed to herself and winked at Hermione. "Have a nice day, young ma'am." Hermione thanked her and picked up the bag full of clothing, leading out of the store. Harry was waiting on the steps for them, and leaped up when the came out.
"Oy, I'm getting bored. Where else do we have to go, anyway?" Hermione glared at him, and he remembered. "Oh, right."
"How could you forget?" Ron asked.
"Too many hex's –"
"I spose so."
"How could I forget?"
"You're stupid."
"Shut up."
"We have to go to Flourish and Blotts." They finished together.
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"I" said Ron, "Am completely bushed. Shopping really takes it out of you." Hermione laughed, and swatted him on the head.
"So says the man who bought only an ice cream cone for himself." She said, still picking at her dinner.
Harry and Ginny had apparated to Harry's apartment when the foursome had returned from shopping, and neither Ron nor Hermione had heard from them since then. That was at four thirty – it was now seven, and Ron and Hermione were eating dinner. Hermione hadn't allowed Ron to buy her books for her; though she had a hard time convincing him that she should buy them herself, he had eventually acquiesced on the terms that he was allowed to cook dinner, which really wasn't much of a compromise at all. Though she had come home (and she now regarded it as home) with a bagful of books, there were many more she would have bought, had Ron not stopped her. He had let her roam the bookstore by herself, choosing whatever book she liked. After making their purchase ("Two hundred-sixteen and a Half Ways to Use Frog Intestines for General House Maintenance") Ginny and Harry had left the store, promising to meet Ron and Hermione again in an hour outside. Ron later swore that when Hermione had moved her books to the counter, the cashier made the sign of the cross and said "Score!" but before he could ring them up, Ron pulled nearly a quarter of them, neatly placing them in a pile on the counter. When Hermione questioned him about it, he simply shrugged and said, "We have all of these at home." Astounded but pleased, Hermione nodded and paid for her purchases.
When they returned to Crookshanks Manor, Hermione had immediately excused herself to the library, which she still hadn't been able to visit. She noted that it wasn't huge, but it was very nice for a home library. She had settled into a large overstuffed armchair, the sun streaming in through two wall high windows, and had begun to read one of her books. Ron had come in about two hours later and settled himself on the couch across from her, smiling and opening a copy of "Quiddich Monthly". In this way they had spent the remainder of the day, enjoying being with each other.
So now they were eating dinner, a nice pasta dish with some sort of shellfish in it. They ate quietly, with Ron occasionally making small talk. He informed her about Fred's marriage, and George's engagement; his mother's glee at having grandchildren; Dumbledore's impending retirement, and most surprisingly, Malfoy's entry into the Ministry. There was no spite in his voice as he talked of this – it was simply a fact, and nothing about it seemed to bother Ron. When she asked further about it, he simply shrugged.
"So many things have changed." He said. "That's one of them. Malfoy fought against his Lord – and his father - when Hogwarts was attacked. As far as I'm concerned, well, that at least makes him tolerable. Then we worked together, and even though at times it didn't go so well… well, sometimes different situations make you see something differently." He continued eating silently for a few minutes, and then suddenly spoke.
"Hermione, I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have done what I did – I had no right. You were vulnerable. I didn't have any right. If it bothers you too much, how I was, I'll leave, ok?" He looked at her, ashen faced.
Hermione wasn't sure how to react. Vulnerable? Not her. She had wanted what had happened – and it was only a kiss, anyway. Just a kiss. She opened her mouth, and closed it again. Finally, she pushed her chair away from the table.
"Ronald Martin Weasley, you're a great, stupid git." With that, she leaned down over his chair and kissed him. She felt him draw a sharp breath, and his chair scooted back. She settled into his lap, still kissing him, framing his face with her hands. He pulled his arms around her and stocked her back softly. She pulled away from him, and looked into his strangely dark blue eyes.
He was breathing quickly, and his face was contorted with emotion. "You… the way I love you…" His eyes began to shimmer with unshed tears, and his voice was shaking. "That girl today… it's been like that before. No one compares – they disgust me. I've never even…" Hermione prodded him. "I've never even be able to even have a fling with another girl, no matter how much my body wanted it." Hermione wasn't so surprised by this until the reality of it hit her. They had never been sexually intimate. If, in all this time he had never – with another girl – been… He really had waited, hadn't he?
"You're everything to me, Hermione. Even if you left me, it wouldn't matter as long as you were happy. You could marry someone else and have his children. You could cast any hex on me. It doesn't matter. I would still love you till the day I die. Just now, I hoped that more then anything you would tell me I'm a great idiot for saying what I did. I love you more then anything. I dreamt about you every god damned night for years. I could never bring myself to take a dreamless sleep potion – that meant I wouldn't be able to see you. The only time I ever had you in my arms with you awake was there. I couldn't give that up. I'd die for you, kill for you, I'd kill myself for you."
Hermione shook in his arms. "That" she said in a whisper. "Will never, ever be necessary. I've loved you since I was fifteen, and I'll love you till I'm two hundred."
Tears slowly dripped down his face, and he buried his hands in her hair. She smiled through her tears, and reached into Ron's robes, pulling out the long, thin chain that held their future. Ron had begun to cry in earnest now with his happiness. She smiled, pulling back, and snapped the clasp on the chain.
"This" she said quietly, sliding the ring onto her left ring finger. "Is mine. And this…" she stroked his face and brushed her lips on his. "Is mine. And this…" she put his hand on top of her heart. "Is forever yours."
Indus: It's hard for me to write in too much conflict, oh, I just want to make them be happy forever! J
Annabelle: Tee hee… I like Xandie, and not just for the obvious reason (this reason is obvious only to me – figure it out, and you get a cookie).
wmlaw: Oh yes, physical romance, I FINALLY got to it. It's hard to not write a bit of a love scene, hehe…
SilverFlame: I'm not sure at all how many chapters this story will have! To be totally honest, I kind of write it as it comes – so far it's been coming fast, but I don't know if it'll stay at that pace. I think - perhaps, mind – that maybe less then five. This could change though.
Psychic: Oh, don't feel guilty about asking after Malfoy – I don't blame you. If someone wrote a fic with the characters after school and didn't mention Ron, I'd be absolutely livid, and enquire immediately! Read on, love…
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Chapter Four: How Deep the River Flows
Hermione's hand was resting on something soft and silky, like spun silk. Senses slowly came to her. The sunlight sunk through her closed eyes, mellow and soothing, the cool air of the room refreshing her. She was fully awake before she opened her eyes, and her breathing had deepened. She felt Xandie curled against her chest, and for a moment, indulged herself in the fantasy that the girl was not her niece, but her daughter, cuddled with her mother to be warm and safe, away from bad dreams and monsters of the night. A little daughter with bright red hair, soft, just like Ron's… part of Ron, part of her. She sighed and felt the child stir against her, mumbling incoherently.
It wouldn't do her any good to pretend. For now, she scolded herself, she needed to find out just what Ron thought was so different about himself, why he wouldn't let her love him. In her mind, just days had passed since she had seen his boyish face. Now, she knew he was a man. Just days ago, in her memory, he had blushed hotly when she slipped his hand into his on their way back to Hogwarts after a day in Hogsmeade. During those last few days in seventh year, right before the accident, Ron had noticed Hermione becoming bolder in her affections. Even though she knew Ron was hers, she had wanted to reassure him of that fact. Sometimes, when he looked at her, his face drooped sadly, and she wondered if she knew just how much she meant to him – after all, Ron had never had great self esteem, had he?
Though she was only seventeen, Hermione had loved him with all her heart, she had shyly and somewhat reluctantly admitted to herself one day late in her sixth year. Thoughts of his children – her children… their children were not new, that was true… but now things were different.
Lying in bed, a twenty-four year old Hermione mulled over these thoughts. She had known what she wanted at seventeen – she knew what she wanted now. Problem was, for her, those ages were mere moments apart, and Ron thought that it would change her love for him. Before her accident, she had known Ron in so many incarnations – a boy who hated her, a boy who loved to hate her, her best friend, a boy who hated to love her, and finally, he had admitted, a boy who wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. She knew without a doubt that no matter how much Ron thought he had changed, her feelings hadn't, and wouldn't. Now, only to convince him of that.
That was for later. Right now, the sun was streaming directly down upon the heavy coverlet, and Hermione was growing uncomfortably warm. Slitting her eyes open, she saw that Xandie had returned to a serene sleep, not seeming to mind the warmth. Hermione gently pulled her arm from under the girl's neck and slipped quietly out of bed.
She pulled open the door to her room crossed the hall. She was having no trouble walking now, though her legs ached a bit, as if she had been exercising. She stretched as she walked and opened the bathroom door and began to pull her long nightgown over her body.
All at once, Hermione realized that her skin was damp with steam. Though the shower was not running, a white mist hung in the air heavily. She gasped and averted her eyes. Ron was across the large bathroom, wiping off his face, dressed in nothing more then a towel draped around his slim waist. When he heard her gasp, he had turned to face her, and had immediately frozen. Though Hermione was no longer looking at him, he tightened the towel and fumbled to secure it better.
Hermione glanced up quickly again. "Hello."
Ron smiled timidly and ran a small towel over his hair. "I'll go ahead and leave. You can use it… sorry about that. I didn't realize you'd be up this early – thought you'd want to sleep. I'll… I'll just go now, all right? Right. Yes."
He glanced down and back quickly, face reddening. "Your gown" he said, sounding uncomfortable. "It's… mussed." Hermione blushed as she realized that her nightgown was revealing an unladylike amount of thigh, and she quickly pushed it down. She nodded at the ground, and Ron made his way past her, turning in the doorway to accommodate them both. When he turned, his head neatly skimmed over hers, and she enveloped in the smell of soap and… she didn't know. Ron. That was the only way she could ever explain it.
She snapped the door shut and twisted the lock, hands shaking. She had never been near Ron in such a – a-…. She blushed again. A sexual situation. That was almost as bad as muggle romance novels, for goodness sake! She shook her head and attempted to turn her mind to the day ahead of her.
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Ron still couldn't believe she was back. Seven years of watching her still face, holding her hand, lying by her motionless body… it had finally paid off. There were still things she didn't know, things she'd have to cope with, eventually… who had made her (or really, Ron) suffer those seven years… what had exactly happened to her… why they weren't able to wake her up. And then, there was him. Ron still loved Hermione as much (if not more) as he had the day of the attack. In his heart, he had been married to Hermione for nearly eight years – he loved her more then life itself. He'd die for her, kill for her, anything. But he wasn't going to let her believe that she loved someone she didn't. Oh, he knew that she at least thought she did – but why would she? Seven years would inevitably change a person, and no matter how much she loved him seven years ago, she wouldn't now.
Though a full-grown man, Ron still suffered from low self-esteem when it came to Hermione, rest of the world be damned. He didn't care about his work or impressing strangers, his boss, and sometimes even his family. All he cared about was her, now. He had been serious when he told Hermione that he was a changed man – he was now more sorrowful then he had been before, more serious, and less inclined to care about what most people thought of him. Hermione, however…
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The little girl woke slowly and smiled at Hermione. "Mm-kay, Auntie H'mione." She stretched and pushed the covers aside, wiping the sleep from her eyes. Hermione helped her get dressed, and then they went downstairs to the kitchen for breakfast.
Ron was making breakfast, long robes covered with a ridiculous looking apron. He pointed his wand at the stove, mixing together eggs and bacon and all sorts of things. Xandie ran to her Uncle and threw her arms around his legs.
"Uncle Rooooonnnn, hi! How did you sleep? I had a nightmare, but Auntie Hermione lemme sleep with her and now I'm better. What's for breakfast? Can I have chocolate pancakes? Please, please pretty please?" The girl's eyes grew wide and enquiring, and Ron laughed, picking her up.
"You, my darling" he said "are so adorable that I think I have to. It's a downright obligation, isn't it?" He swung her around, and her small face lit up with joy. "Now, Goose, why don't you show Auntie Hermione around the kitchen and set the table?"
The girl nodded and grabbed Hermione's hand. "C'mon, Auntie. See, here's the forks and knives and spoons, up there's the bowls and stuff."
Ron smiled down at Hermione as the girl introduced the kitchen to her. Shortly, the table was set, and Ron dropped a heap of chocolate chip pancakes much to high for her to eat in front of the small child. She laughed gleefully at the huge stack and began to dig in. Hermione helped herself to one smallish pancake and a piece of bacon, thinking she wouldn't eat much. It wasn't that she didn't trust Ron's cooking… oh, who was she kidding? Of course she didn't trust Ron's cooking! She had once watched his mother attempt to teach him how to poach and egg, and Ron had managed to make it fly around the room, spattering the kitchen in a vicious mess.
Ron served himself a stack of pancakes, a heap of eggs, two pieces of bacon, and a large mug of pumpkin juice and smiled at Hermione. Noticing she was simply moving around the food on her plate, not eating, he frowned.
"Is your stomach upset, Hermione?" He asked her, worried. "I can make you something easier to eat – soup or something, if you like. I mean, I know that's weird for breakfast, but mum says good old chicken broth settles your stomach…"
Hermione forced a grin. "No… it's fine, my stomach's not upset."
Ron's face suddenly changed into an evil smile. "You're thinking about the time mum tried to get me to fry an egg, aren't you?"
Despite herself, Hermione's smile became real and widened. "Actually," she said teasingly, "You were supposed to poach it. In any event, neither got done." He shook his head and loaded his fork with a large bite of chocolate chip pancakes, gesturing at her with it as he spoke.
"Now see here, missy. A lot of things have happened while you were asleep, and me being a gourmet cook is one of them. These…" he indicated with his fork, "Are the best pancakes from here to Scotland." He gave an over exaggerated sigh and gestured to his small niece, who apparently had an appetite to rival Hagrid's. "If she didn't like them, trust me – she wouldn't eat them. Decidedly finicky, that one. Now…" he stood up and crossed to where Hermione was sitting, still holding the heaping forkful of pancake. "I suggest you eat this before I make you." Though he tried to sound menacing, Hermione could only laugh as he made the fork dance in front of her face. Xandie had temporarily taken her attention away from her breakfast, and was watching her aunt and uncle with interest.
Hermione looked dubiously back and forth from Ron do the pancakes. It certainly smelled good, this was true… maybe it didn't taste so bad. She may as well trust Ron's food, she decided – she may be eating it for a while yet. After all she reminded herself sheepishly, you can't cook either, can you?
Ron was standing with one hand on his hip, leaning over Hermione, fork still poised. She rolled her eyes and reminded herself to tell Ron just how much he looked like his mother sometimes, then obediently opened her mouth.
Ron set the fork down and stood back, crossing his arms. He smiled smugly as Hermione's face broke into a large smile and she began to devour the food on her plate. He went back and sat in his own chair and smiled happily at her and his niece, who had turned back to her own food. When he attempted to retrieve her empty plate, Hermione slapped his hand and grinned at him. "I'd like to eat some more, if you don't mind." He laughed and cleared his own plate and began to clean the kitchen.
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The girl immediately began to whine. "I wanna go with you and Auntie, Uncle Roooonnnnnnn. Please? Please? Please?" Her eyes began to film over with tears and she struggled to get out of his arms again, leaning over and holding her arms out to Hermione. Hermione pulled the girl to her, though somewhat awkwardly. She hugged her tightly and kissed her forehead.
"It's ok, sweetie. You can come visit us anytime you want, you know. I'll be here for a while." She cast a meaningful glance at Ron, who nodded then looked into the fire, obviously pleased. "In the meantime, if I hear from your mum and dad that you've being a good girl, maybe I'll have a treat for you and your siblings." Xandie broke into a grin, her mock tears disappearing. "Now", said Hermione, "Into the fire with Uncle Ron. I'll see you later, I promise." Saying this, she handed the girl to Ron, who threw a pinch of Floo powder into the large fireplace, then walked into it.
After he had gone, Hermione went up to her room. She still hadn't really looked around it much, and was surprised to find a rather large pile of pictures in one drawer in the dresser. She made a mental note to herself to buy frames and boxes for them today. The rest of the dresser held a large assortment of clothing, both muggle and wizard. The nightstand next to her bed had only a single drawer, which housed a few hair clips and a small velvet box. Remembering what Ron and Harry had told her the previous night, she slowly opened the box to reveal the pieces of her broken wand, which had been reduced to eight large splinters. She sighed and tucked the box into her robes and pulled out one of the larger hair clips. She used it to secure her busy hair at her neck, and then turned to leave the room. She gasped and shrank back.
Ron had been standing behind her, watching her with forlorn eyes. She drew a calming breath and then swatted his arm.
"Don't do that!" she yelled.
He flinched and reached out a hand, dropping it on her shoulder. "I'm sorry – I didn't mean to scare you. I was just… I came up to get you. We might want to get going now, you know… We're already late." She nodded.
"That's fine… sorry for yelling. Where's Ginny?"
"She left earlier, went to Harry's flat." He grinned roguishly, looking like a teenager again. "Not even going to speculate what those two are up to."
Hermione looked at him, shocked. "You're ok with it, then?" He nodded. "You have changed, haven't you? Youd've never accepted that in school, the two of them."
He shrugged. "It's fine. I was only worried then because of Lord Voldemort. Her being related to me was bad enough – dating Harry would have put her directly in the line of fire."
"You said his name!" Hermione exclaimed, referring to the former Dark Lord.
He smiled and gave her back a pat. "We all do, now. It's easier that way…" He shrugged again. "We should get going, huh?" He took her elbow and they walked downstairs together.
"You first" he said, handing her the bag. "I'll come right after."
She nodded and threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fire and said "The Leaky Cauldron".
She walked into the fire and pulled her legs and arms close to her body, twisting and spinning. A moment later, she stumbled out of the fire and into the Leaky Cauldron, which apparently hadn't changed much. Tom let out a whoop of glee when he saw her stumble out, and come out from behind the bar, giving her a great hug.
"Lil' H'mione Granger, I'll be a damned old fool. I heard you were awake! S'good to see it's true, lil girl." He gave her a toothless grin and gestured towards a corner. "Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley are waiting over there for you." He gave her hand another squeeze and turned as someone else emerged from the fire.
"Hello, Tom." Ron and he stumbled out of the fire. "Good to see you again." Tom nodded, still smiling, and gestured towards Hermione's receding back. Ron followed and sat down on one side of the small square table, shooting a grin at his sister, who was holding Harry's hand.
Ginny smiled back and checked her watch. "You two are late, you know. You were supposed to meet us at eleven, and it's nearly half after." Ron shrugged and pointed at Hermione.
"Blame her", he said. "She had about four helpings of breakfast, so I couldn't floo Xandie home till eleven ten or so. Then, of course, Perc insisted on lecturing me about something…"
"What's that?" asked Ginny. Ron grinned.
"Who knows? I was ignoring him."
Hermione stifled a laugh, but shortly began to cough when Ron dropped his hand on top of hers and squeezed it good-naturedly. Ginny grinned and pushed her water at Hermione, who drank deeply before she stopped coughing.
Ron had moved his hand and was patting her back, laughing. "Something go down the wrong pipe, 'Mione?" She nodded and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Harry smiled at his friends and shot a significant look at Ginny. Nodding she stood up.
"Come on you two, we have a long day ahead of us. I'm sure Hermione has tons of shopping to do." Hermione smiled at Harry gratefully
"He's completely right. I need to go to Gringotts and withdraw money, then I need to go to Madam Malkin's – I really don't have many robes without the Hogwarts crest on them, these ones must be Ginny's, and I can't very well wear those the rest of my life. Let's see…" she thought out loud. "There were some pictures in the drawer in my room that appear to be from my collection. I'll need frames for those. Oh, and of course, I'll need a new wand." Her eyes suddenly lit up. "And books, oh, there'll be so many more new books now!"
Ron shook his head, standing. "Fine with me. Sounds like a day of hellish shopping for us, then."
Hermione cast him a glare. "You don't have to come, you know."
He held up his hands in defeat. "No, no, I'll come, and I'll be good." He grinned at her. "If you're lucky, I'll even make dinner tonight."
Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand and began to pull her to the back of the Leaky Cauldron. "If we let these two lead, we'll never get any shopping done!" She pulled out her wand and tapped the appropriate bricks in the wall, and the doorway to Diagon Alley opened in front of them.
At first glance, it seemed to be exactly as she remembered. Wizards and witches of all ages were bustling about the street, carrying assortments of packages and wearing cloaks of all colors and shades. Ginny and Hermione walked towards Gringotts, Harry and Ron behind them. The men sped up and appeared at the sides of their ladies, Harry putting an arm around Ginny's waist, and Ron clasping Hermione's elbow, as if he were a guardian leading on an orphaned child.. After a short, harrowing ride in a Gringotts cart (that certainly hadn't changed), the group made their way to Ollivander's.
Harry and Ginny agreed to wait outside while Hermione went with Ron into the store. Mr. Ollivander's cracked old face broke into a small smile when he looked up.
"Ah, Miss Granger. Oak, ten inches, unicorn hair. A bit ridged, wasn't it? You're here for another one, I suppose?" Hermione nodded and the old man made his way up a ladder and began to pull down long, thin boxes. Opening one, he handed her its contents. She waved the wand. Nothing. She tried wand after wand, to no avail. Ron had begun to look bored, and was slumped in a chair, arms crossed, brows knit..
"Rather tricky. That's all right – we'll figure it out. Lets see…" he rubbed his thumb against his chin, thinking. "This would be easier if you had kept your old wand, but…"
"Oh, is that what you need?" Hermione interrupted. "I'm sorry, I forgot – but I did bring it with me." She pulled the box out of her robes and handed it to Mr. Ollivander, who took it happily.
"This," he said, "Should make the process much easier. He opened the case, a look of sorrow on his face. "Unfortunate. But it does happen. In any event…" he set the pieces out on the counter and tapped his own wand directly in front of them. The shards began to glow red and the old proprietor directed his wand at the wall of wands to his left, then to his back, then his right. Four boxes in various places began to glow, and the gently floated down to the counter. He nodded, satisfied, and handed the wands to her one by one. The third wand she tried produced a flash of green and purple sparks when she pointed it towards the wall, shattering the shadows with their brightness. She smiled, and Mr. Ollivander softly clapped, his old wrinkled face breaking into a bit of a grin.
"Very well, Miss Granger. Six galleons, please." The old man held out his hand for the money, and Hermione began to dig into her money pouch for them.
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley. You two have a nice day."
Hermione looked up at the old man, who now had his back turned to her, and was depositing money into a register behind the counter. She looked at Ron, who unsmilingly nodded and tugged her out of the old shop by the elbow, the wand still in her hand.
When they got out into the street, Hermione again began to pull out her money pouch to pay Ron. When he saw what she was doing, he put his hand gently and impended her from opening the clasp.
"No." His voice sounded slightly irritated, and he looked around them silently. "Don't. If it makes you feel better, call it first month's rent."
She stared at him for a moment. Ron had never been particularly loose with his money, for obvious reasons.
"Well..." she began.
"Oy! You two! You were in there forever, I thought I was going to have a beard by the time you got out." Harry clapped Hermione on the shoulder and peered inquisitively to her hand. "Nice wand, 'Mione."
Hermione smiled and asked jokingly if he'd like to be a test subject for her first usage of the wand. Harry quickly stepped back, hands raised, and Ginny laughed. Ron was staring down the street, faced away his friends and sister.
Noticing his distemper, Ginny nudged him with her shoulder as she walked by him. "Come on, you great prat." She said as she went by. "Smile sometime. It'll do you good." Hermione thought she heard a note of sadness in the girl's voice, but in the next moment it disappeared, and Ginny had begun to walk down the street. "I think we should go to Madam Malkin's next, Hermione." She called over her shoulder. "Let the boys go look at Quality Quiddich Supplies – they'll only get bored and annoying."
Ron began to protest that he wanted to go with them, but Harry silenced him with a soft punch on the shoulder. "Hey, they've got a new Firebolt version. We should check it out. Besides, she's right – we will just get bored." With this, he pulled Ron into an adjacent street that led to the Quiddich supply store. Ginny linked her arm with Hermione's, and they silently made their way to Madam Malkin's.
It was nice, Hermione mused, to have some time with Ginny. Though she has been with Hermione most of the time in the last few days, they had rarely been alone. Everything had been so hectic, and there hadn't been any time to simply enjoy each other's company.
Upon entering Madam Malkin's, they were attacked by a flurry of colors. A very busy and hassled looking woman was attending to a girl and what could have only been her twin brother. The two children were probably no more then twelve, and were both fidgeting as she attempted to fit them for their robes. Their brown haired mother was in the corner talking with a young attendant with highly spiked purple hair. Hermione fought her giggles – the poor thing must have eaten one of Fred and George's candies. From what she understood, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was a popular store in Hogsmeade – she still hadn't had the chance to visit – and this girl's head seemed to be a good example of a trick gone right.
Ginny smiled at the woman fitting the two school age children, and nodded over at her young co-worker, who cast Hermione and Ginny an irritated look, then excused herself from the woman she was speaking to.
"Hey." She said, walking over. "My name's Lizzie. What do you need?" the girl had no trace of politeness in her voice, and the irritated look was still on her face. Ginny rolled her eyes and murmured so only Hermione could hear "good service." Louder: "We need to fit Hermione here for some robes. She'll need a complete wardrobe, I think – she doesn't really have anything." Lizzie cast Hermione a look of curiosity, her irritation dissipating. "Really? Nothing? How can you have no clothes?" she inquired nosily.
Hermione shrugged. "Oh, I do have some robes – just nothing without the Hogwarts crest on them.
The girl eyed her. "You're pretty old to only have Hogwarts robes. What, you been asleep since graduation?" she said sarcastically.
Hermione winced, and Ginny answered for her. "You could say that. Now please" she pulled Hermione up onto a raised pedestal. "Fit her. We're in rather a rush to leave."
Lizzie shrugged and turned to the counter to pick up a pincushion. Ginny mouthed "for the obvious reasons", and Hermione simply shook her head in amusement. The rude young girl threw an oversized black robe over her and with a few swishes of her wand, made it fit Hermione perfectly. She eyed the robe, satisfied, and began to move to a wall covered with nothing but rolls of fabric.. Her nosy, rude attitude had dissipated, and she was all business now.
"Will you need a cloak?" she asked, rifling through rolls of fabric lining the walls. Before Hermione answered, Lizzie turned to her, eyes slit. For a moment, Hermione felt very uncomfortable – the girl was just staring at her. Then, Lizzie broke into a smile, and said "yes." Quietly to herself.
"You need burgundy." She nodded and pointed her wand at several rolls of dark red fabric. "And black, of course – every witch needs black. And green. And purple." She turned scrutinizing to Hermione again. "No, no blue. You're not a blue, are you? No, you're not." She aimed her wand at a beautiful burgandy fabric swirled with silver roses. "Dress robes?" Hermione shook her head, but Ginny yelled "Yes!" and the red fabric joined a pile of other rolls on the table.
Hermione was beginning to become nervous. She needed clothes, but she didn't need a ton of them! "Ginny…" she began, nervously. "I don't know that the money I brought will…" Ginny turned to her, smiling, and squeezed her hand.
"Don't worry about it, Hermione. Ron and I will cover anything you can't afford – you can blame me!" she said happily. Hermione tried to protest, but was hushed by a flurry of fabrics in Lizzie's arms.
The girl held each up to Hermione, grunting to herself in pleasure or displeasure as she moved the fabric around her. At some point, Hermione realized the flurry of fabric was no longer being supported by the girl, and moments later all of the colors dropped to the ground. Lizzie held, in her arms, a pile of clothing, now shaped into robes and a heavy black cloak. She set the pile down and began to rifle through it, pulling out a set of dress robes made from the beautiful red and silver fabric.
She smiled, pleased, at it. "I know they all fit, but I want to see this one on you." She handed it to Hermione and shooed her into a fitting room.
Hermione slipped into the robes and began to fumble with the intricate buttons at the back of the robes. "Ginny!" she softly yelled. "Ginny, I can't button this!" She heard Lizzie tell Ginny to stay put. "If she can't do them herself, you wont be able to either. I made it kinda hard." There was a note of pride in her voice. "But it'll be great, trust me."
Lizzie entered the room and without a word began to loop the ties together at Hermione's back, buttoning and twisting. With a small "humh" of satisfaction, she pulled Hermione out of the room and onto the fitting pedestal. Hermione heard Ginny gasp, and looking into the mirror, she realized why. She looked wonderful. Hermione tilted her head and looked at herself. Ginny was feeling the material at her waist, and Lizzie had crossed her arms, a self-satisfied look on her face.
The dress dropped a little lower in the front then Hermione would have normally worn her clothes, but it wasn't totally immodest. The neckline was squared, and the robes fit tight on her waist, dropping and puffing out slowly from there on. The back was composed of a plethora of loops and buttons, and two long trails of sheer fabric cascaded down her back.
Hermione smiled at her mirror image and pulled her hair back. She turned to Lizzie.
"It's… very, very nice." She said softly. The girl smiled smugly. It was a very pretty dress. Rude or not, Lizzie sure knew what she was doing.
"I know. Let me go ring up the rest of your stuff, huh?" She turned and began to count the robes, occasionally turning to a small mirror behind the counter and brushing up her hair.
Hermione turned back towards the dressing room to change, still smiling. She was just stepping down from the pedestal when she heard an oddly heavy voice command her.
"Stop."
She looked towards the door, in the direction the order had come from. "Are you-" she began, annoyed that someone was ordering her around.
Ron was standing at the door of the shop, Harry behind him. His face was unreadable, and his arms were still at his sides. He was staring at her, and under his gaze, Hermione began to blush. Did she not look as good as she thought she did? Maybe he didn't like it. It was burgundy, after all, and burgundy and maroon are very close. Maybe she could get it in green. Maybe someone he knew someone that had one just like it. Maybe he'd stop staring at her soon.
Maybe she didn't want him to.
Ron put one hand to the back of his neck and bent his head, staring at the ground. "You look wonderful. I like that color on you." Hermione turned redder and smiled shyly at the ground. "Thank you, Ron." She said.
Lizzie then noticed Ron. Smiling, she walked out from behind the counter, fluffing her hair up. "Hello, sir." She said, her voice honeyed. "Can I help you? Some new robes?" She put her hand on his chest. "These ones pull tight across your chest. Muscled men have to buy robes more often, you know…"
Hermione's smile froze on her face. Was that awful girl actually coming on to Ron? He had been in the shop for less then thirty seconds! Of course he was cute – maybe he got that all the time, but how horribly rude of that girl!
She had no reason to worry, however. Ron was looking down at Lizzie, an expression of total annoyance on his face. He grabbed her wrist as if he would a spider, the annoyance shifting to distaste. He tossed her hand away and moved away from her. "No thanks." He said curtly. "I'm not interested. In fact, I'm really not interested. I have better… robes… at home.
Understanding dawned on Lizzie's face as Ron said this – he was, after all, still looking at Hermione. She sneered at him and glanced, irritated, at Hermione. He quickly shifted his gaze to his younger sister, silently pleading with her. Ginny strolled forward and grabbed the back of Lizzie's robes, pulling her towards the counter.
"We'd like to leave now, please." The girl glared at her then swung around and silently finished her adding. Hermione turned to the dressing room to put on her borrowed robes, smiling to herself. She heard nothing from the front room, and when she came out, her purchase was bagged and Lizzie wasn't in sight. Her co-worker had finished with the children long ago, and now gave Ron a pat on the back.
"Well then, let me see what she's added up… oh, there's a bit of a mistake on here I see…" She corrected the young girl's mistake and circled a number at the bottom of the paper. "Why, we almost cheated you. Bad addition, I'm sure." She grinned impishly at Ron, and handed the slip of paper to Hermione. Before she read it however, Ron pulled it from her hand and reached into his pocket.
Ron quieted her with a look when she began to protest, and she turned helplessly to Ginny. "I can't keep letting him pay for all my things!" she hissed at the red headed girl. Ginny rubbed her back. "Let him" she said quietly. "It makes him feel good. He's not doing it to make you uncomfortable – he just wants you to be happy.
The older store attendant smiled at Ron after she had deposited his money into the register and gestured to the unseen back room. "She's a fiery on, that. Best to stick with what you've got, though. You obviously agree." The witch laughed to herself and winked at Hermione. "Have a nice day, young ma'am." Hermione thanked her and picked up the bag full of clothing, leading out of the store. Harry was waiting on the steps for them, and leaped up when the came out.
"Oy, I'm getting bored. Where else do we have to go, anyway?" Hermione glared at him, and he remembered. "Oh, right."
"How could you forget?" Ron asked.
"Too many hex's –"
"I spose so."
"How could I forget?"
"You're stupid."
"Shut up."
"We have to go to Flourish and Blotts." They finished together.
--------------------
"So says the man who bought only an ice cream cone for himself." She said, still picking at her dinner.
Harry and Ginny had apparated to Harry's apartment when the foursome had returned from shopping, and neither Ron nor Hermione had heard from them since then. That was at four thirty – it was now seven, and Ron and Hermione were eating dinner. Hermione hadn't allowed Ron to buy her books for her; though she had a hard time convincing him that she should buy them herself, he had eventually acquiesced on the terms that he was allowed to cook dinner, which really wasn't much of a compromise at all. Though she had come home (and she now regarded it as home) with a bagful of books, there were many more she would have bought, had Ron not stopped her. He had let her roam the bookstore by herself, choosing whatever book she liked. After making their purchase ("Two hundred-sixteen and a Half Ways to Use Frog Intestines for General House Maintenance") Ginny and Harry had left the store, promising to meet Ron and Hermione again in an hour outside. Ron later swore that when Hermione had moved her books to the counter, the cashier made the sign of the cross and said "Score!" but before he could ring them up, Ron pulled nearly a quarter of them, neatly placing them in a pile on the counter. When Hermione questioned him about it, he simply shrugged and said, "We have all of these at home." Astounded but pleased, Hermione nodded and paid for her purchases.
When they returned to Crookshanks Manor, Hermione had immediately excused herself to the library, which she still hadn't been able to visit. She noted that it wasn't huge, but it was very nice for a home library. She had settled into a large overstuffed armchair, the sun streaming in through two wall high windows, and had begun to read one of her books. Ron had come in about two hours later and settled himself on the couch across from her, smiling and opening a copy of "Quiddich Monthly". In this way they had spent the remainder of the day, enjoying being with each other.
So now they were eating dinner, a nice pasta dish with some sort of shellfish in it. They ate quietly, with Ron occasionally making small talk. He informed her about Fred's marriage, and George's engagement; his mother's glee at having grandchildren; Dumbledore's impending retirement, and most surprisingly, Malfoy's entry into the Ministry. There was no spite in his voice as he talked of this – it was simply a fact, and nothing about it seemed to bother Ron. When she asked further about it, he simply shrugged.
"So many things have changed." He said. "That's one of them. Malfoy fought against his Lord – and his father - when Hogwarts was attacked. As far as I'm concerned, well, that at least makes him tolerable. Then we worked together, and even though at times it didn't go so well… well, sometimes different situations make you see something differently." He continued eating silently for a few minutes, and then suddenly spoke.
"Hermione, I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have done what I did – I had no right. You were vulnerable. I didn't have any right. If it bothers you too much, how I was, I'll leave, ok?" He looked at her, ashen faced.
Hermione wasn't sure how to react. Vulnerable? Not her. She had wanted what had happened – and it was only a kiss, anyway. Just a kiss. She opened her mouth, and closed it again. Finally, she pushed her chair away from the table.
"Ronald Martin Weasley, you're a great, stupid git." With that, she leaned down over his chair and kissed him. She felt him draw a sharp breath, and his chair scooted back. She settled into his lap, still kissing him, framing his face with her hands. He pulled his arms around her and stocked her back softly. She pulled away from him, and looked into his strangely dark blue eyes.
He was breathing quickly, and his face was contorted with emotion. "You… the way I love you…" His eyes began to shimmer with unshed tears, and his voice was shaking. "That girl today… it's been like that before. No one compares – they disgust me. I've never even…" Hermione prodded him. "I've never even be able to even have a fling with another girl, no matter how much my body wanted it." Hermione wasn't so surprised by this until the reality of it hit her. They had never been sexually intimate. If, in all this time he had never – with another girl – been… He really had waited, hadn't he?
"You're everything to me, Hermione. Even if you left me, it wouldn't matter as long as you were happy. You could marry someone else and have his children. You could cast any hex on me. It doesn't matter. I would still love you till the day I die. Just now, I hoped that more then anything you would tell me I'm a great idiot for saying what I did. I love you more then anything. I dreamt about you every god damned night for years. I could never bring myself to take a dreamless sleep potion – that meant I wouldn't be able to see you. The only time I ever had you in my arms with you awake was there. I couldn't give that up. I'd die for you, kill for you, I'd kill myself for you."
Hermione shook in his arms. "That" she said in a whisper. "Will never, ever be necessary. I've loved you since I was fifteen, and I'll love you till I'm two hundred."
Tears slowly dripped down his face, and he buried his hands in her hair. She smiled through her tears, and reached into Ron's robes, pulling out the long, thin chain that held their future. Ron had begun to cry in earnest now with his happiness. She smiled, pulling back, and snapped the clasp on the chain.
"This" she said quietly, sliding the ring onto her left ring finger. "Is mine. And this…" she stroked his face and brushed her lips on his. "Is mine. And this…" she put his hand on top of her heart. "Is forever yours."
