The Return

A/N:  Okay, okay, I know I took long to get this chapter up. But I think the next chapter will come out much sooner.  **Coughs** Of course, the amount of time might be cut down if the number of reviews don't drop…? 

            Harry, Hermione and Ron stepped into the Great Hall, each taking in the scent of their old, beloved school.

           "It feels so good to be back," sighed Harry, blinking as he looked up at the enchanted ceiling.  It was a beautiful night.  The stars were shinning brightly, dressed in the occasional wisp of silver cloud.  Harry had replaced his glasses with contacts at the end of the previous year, after driving Voldemort into submission once again.  During the battle, he had gotten his glasses knocked off his face, hindering him temporarily.  It was then that he decided he would get contacts to avoid that happening again.

           It was their seventh and final year at Hogwarts and after facing many obstacles dealing with Lord Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, and various dark creatures that included a nasty pack of vampires only their previous year, they had all remained best friends and had gotten much closer despite their frequent arguments and quarrels.

            Ron grinned at Harry. "Still up for our bet?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. At the end of last year, Harry and Ron made a bet to see whom Lavender Brown would date first. Not that they weren't each excellent choices – Ron was the captain of the Quidditch team, which in itself, was a big plus. He played as Gryffindor's Keeper. Harry was still the team's Seeker and, well…let's face it.  He was the Boy-Who-Lived and that was a plus in itself.

            "You know it!" grinned Harry and he turned and scanned the room in search of the interest of his raging hormones. Ron, however, spotted her first and rushed after her, Harry closely on his tail.

"Boys," Hermione muttered and made her way over to the Gryffindor table to wait for the Sorting.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

          Hermione drummed her fingers on the desk, Ron and Harry sitting on either side of her.  With some disinterest, they watched Professor McGonagall place the Sorting Hat on its customary stool in the middle of the decorated Hall.

            Somewhere to the right of her, the staff lined into the room and seated themselves upon their table; but she was too busy listening to the Sorting Hat's yearly ballad to pay any heed to it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

            "Lillot, Charles," read Professor McGonagall before Hermione grew weary of watching both the Sorting and Ron and Harry's duel with forks they had apparently nicked from the train.

            With a small smile, she suddenly remembered Percy's letter that was delivered to her just before she got aboard the train. 

            She pulled the letter out of her robe pocket and unfolded it carefully.

            There, in Percy's neat scrawl, read:

Dear Hermione:

            I'm sorry I couldn't write sooner – it's been really busy up at the ministry.  That insufferable git, Fudge, has finally admitted that Voldemort has risen again, and to say that chaos has broken loose in the Ministry would be an understatement.  Mr. Crouch was trying to tell him all along, of course, but we all know how obstinately blind Fudge can be. 

            So how was your summer?  I realize that we haven't been seeing each other as much as I would have liked to over this past year.  There was simply no way we could have company over at the Bureau this holiday. 

            Hermione, I've just about enough money now to buy a small two-bedroom flat in London.  I know these past two years for us haven't been great, and I know I haven't exactly been the best boyfriend in Britain.  I still want to apologize over that whole incident with Penelope last summer –

            Here, Hermione paused and frowned.

            Yes…Penelope wasn't keen on Percy dating anyone after he broke up with her.  She apparently wouldn't accept it, even though she had been cheating on him for the last year of their relationship.  Come to think of it, things somewhat started going downhill  in Percy and Hermione's relationship from when Penelope attacked her in the Leaky Cauldron.

            Sighing to herself, she continued reading.

            Hermione – I want you to know that you mean a lot to me.  I know that I don't use the term, "love" very much…  But I do.  Love you, that is.  And since now I have enough money to buy a place of my own, and since you're graduating this year, there's something I wanted to ask –

            She didn't get any farther than that. 

            Feeling eyes on her, she stuffed the letter and envelope back into her robes and slowly turned around toward her onlooker's gaze.

            The sight her eyes met made her lungs inhale sharply, her face flush, and the adrenaline pound through her veins.

            There, sitting in between Professors Sinistra and Flitwick was Remus Lupin, who quickly averted his eyes and engaged his female colleague in conversation.

            Somewhere in the back of her mind, she was aware that the clashing of metal had stopped, but she still started when Ron tapped her on the shoulder. 

            "Hermione…Hermione, are you alright?"

            Glancing toward Harry, she noticed that he, too, had been watching her with some concern.

Clearing her throat, she tore her eyes away from the staff and murmured, "Just fine…Will you excuse me?" Without waiting for an answer, she quietly slipped out from the table and inconspicuously made her way out and toward the Gryffindor Common room.

            "Nellford, Sarah…."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

            She didn't know how long she was curled up on the crimson sofa.  Not long, she supposed.  The others were apparently still at the Feast. 

            Her robes were puddled down by the sofa next to her sneakers, having been abandoned almost without thought.  She lay quietly on the couch in jeans and a white blouse, staring into the flickering flames of the fire, letting her thoughts roam.

            "He's back," she whispered quietly and buried her face into the plush sofa, squeezing her eyes shut.

            Her hand had unconsciously traveled to the front of her shirt and she was clasping something behind the material.

            "He told me he'd come back," she opened her eyes, staring into the comforting embrace of crimson.  "I never imagined he'd be telling the truth…"

            She realized that there were several wet droplets on the arm of the couch and she sniffled softly, sitting up on the couch, her legs pulled up.

            Turning back to face the fire, she gasped.

            Remus Lupin was kneeling about a foot in front of her, looking at her with genuine concern.  She never even heard him enter.   

            She stared at him, her eyes still wet and, seeing she was alright, Remus pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket.

            Red, she noticed.  I wonder when he bought a new one…

            Seeing as she didn't take it, he put the handkerchief back in his pocket. 

            She noticed he wasn't wearing his robes, and she swept her eyes around the room, spotting them on the couch perpendicular to her own.  She wondered just how long he'd been kneeling in front of her while she was lost in her thoughts.

            Turning back to him, she regarded him with some interest.  She had never seen him in ordinary clothes before.  He wore black trousers and a brown, buttoned up shirt, just unbuttoned at the collar. 

            Hmm…brings out his eyes and hair…she thought, embarrassed suddenly upon realizing it.

            Wait a minute…  His hair?!

            Raising her eyes, she noticed that there was little, if any, grey in his locks and she wondered if this was simply lack of stress, or if he had dyed it to present himself better.  His skin was also a healthier color than it had been her third year.  She couldn't tell in the firelight, but it looked as though he had developed a light tan.  He had gained some weight, too, which was good, because he was far to thin before.  And his clothes – while they were nothing fancy, surely they wouldn't belong to someone who had been unemployed for long. 

            But there was something else there, too...something about his face.  It held something more in it – more life, she supposed.

           They each stood and regarded one another, taking each other in.  Remus noted that she had found a way to tame her hair and that, he regarded this with some embarrassment, she no longer had the body of a thirteen year old.

            "You're looking better, Professor," Hermione whispered.

            "Thank you, Miss Granger," he responded in a voice from deep in his throat.

            There was a strange silence in which they both stared into the other's eyes.                

            Finally, after a few agonizingly long moments, Remus murmured, "I told you I'd come back."

            "Yes…you did."