Return To Hogsmeade
Chapter Two
-dutchtulips-
***
Only a few days later, Hermione was on the Knight Bus, which had just pulled out of London and was making way for all stops in England. She was the only one headed for Hogsmeade, and was feeling extremely relieved for that. Currently she was sitting across her bed, staring into the recently installed fireplace (the Knight Bus pulled out all of the stops nowadays) where Maya's blond head was sitting atop in hearth and in the middle of yellow flames.
"I told you!" She was exclaiming. "I told you that Viktor would propose to you! That's why he asked you to Bulgaria for Christmas! To introduce his new wife to his family!"
"Half-right," Hermione corrected. "That's when he wants us to get married."
"So what are you doing on the Knight Bus? Shouldn't you be celebrating with Viktor?" Maya wanted to know.
The curly-haired witch paused for a moment before responding. "I'm, er, I'm off to Hogsmeade."
Maya's eyebrows shot up and, after a long moment of quiet, she said, "Oh my stars. . ."
For some unknown reason at that moment, Hermione found herself attempting to suppress a smile. "Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you back at the newsroom in a week or so. . .just until I can get this whole thing -"
The Knight Bus conductor's voice suddenly rumbled out with, "Hogsmeade!" and the vehicle slowed to a stop. As Hermione got up and started for her trunk, Maya gave a last goodbye and her head disappeared from the fire. "'Bye," she replied as she dragged her luggage to the front of the bus. After Hermione got off, the Knight Bus behind her disappeared with a roar of its engine, leaving the young witch alone.
The muggy air was getting to her, so she pulled her hair back with a ribbon and slipped some sunglasses out of her pocket, and put them on. With a casual wave of her wand, Hermione bewitched her trunk to hover alongside her as she walked. Now that she was back in her village that she'd lived in for five years after leaving Hogwarts, she almost felt as if time had never passed. Hermione knew this place still like the back of her hand, and the first stop in her tour took almost no thought whatsoever to get to. Swiftly she started down the road, her luggage following obediently after her, but not before she was careful to slip off her engagement ring and tuck it into her robe pocket.
After about two more streets up, where the magic shops turned into quiet neighborhoods, Hermione found herself looking at the second of houses she'd called home here in Hogsmeade - a grand old cottage with a sweeping front porch. On the porch was a oak swing, lined with a plush purple cushion, and a pair of pruning shears and a watering can sat by the front door. Lying near the front steps was a large ginger cat, lounging in the warm sun. Upon settling its round yellow eyes upon Hermione, it began to meow quite loudly.
A minute later, the screen door flew open and out stepped a tall, red-haired figure who was toting a can of broomstick polish. His hands, face, and the front of his robes were somewhat grimy with dirt. Upon seeing him, Hermione hurriedly set her trunk to the ground and turned back around to face him.
Referring to the cat on the porch, the man said, "Ah, don't worry 'bout him. He's pretty tough but he won't hurt you." The redhead looked up at Hermione, smiling politely. "Now, what can I do for you?"
Hermione crossed her arms, saying, "Well, for starters, you can haul your stubborn prat of a self down here and get me our divorce."
Ron Weasley's eyes grew twice their normal size and with a thunk, promptly dropped the broomstick polish, realizing who had been knocking at his gates. "What are you playing at, 'Mione?" He asked, sighing and letting his shoulders drop.
Yanking off the sunglasses and replacing them back into her pocket, she started in right away. "You know, I really don't know. I really have never figured out what that stupid expression means, but I'm not playing at anything. Just get over here and sign the papers." Quickly, Hermione waved her wand at her trunk. It popped open, and she reached in and withdrew a few rolls of parchment. "See, there's one for you, one for me, and one for the people at the Dissolution of Matrimony office at the Ministry of Magic."
The ginger cat continued to mew loudly.
"You come here, after five years, without so much as a 'Hello, Ron, how've you been? Remember me? Your wife?' " He snapped, slowly starting down the front steps to meet her. " 'Mione, have you even been to see your parents first?"
She glared at him. "That's my business! Now quit sending them back! The damned Dissolution of Matrimony office billed me a sackful of galleons every time you did!" She shoved the parchment into his hands. "So will you just sign the papers?"
He just sort of shrugged, returning them to her grasp. "Naw, I don't think I will, thanks," he replied over the cat's racket.
"Be quiet, Crookshanks!" Hermione and Ron said together, though it was not the name 'Crookshanks' that echoed in the latter's interjection, but 'Gizmo.'
The curly-haired witch stared at the cat, and then back to Ron, stammering, "What - what happened to Crookshanks?"
Ron sighed. "He died," he said shortly, starting back up the steps. "You weren't here. No surprise to me."
Hermione considered that for a moment, but then darted up the porch after the redhead. "Hey! You incompetent, stubborn, living-in-the-middle-of-nowhere git! Would you just sign the damn papers!"
He stopped, standing in the open screen door doorway before letting it swing shut and, right before slamming the front door closed, said, "You know, 'Mione, I don't like your attitude! You've turned into some sassy, rude, big-city snob! So if you don't mind, I've got more important things to do than waste my time talking to you!"
The window blind snapped up as Ron shut the door, and he tore at it desperately to obscure Hermione from view, who was standing right on the other side, watching him pathetically as the blind kept flipped up until finally he gave up and sauntered off.
Inside the house, Ron had just dropped down onto the sofa, but then jumped up again as if he were sitting on a bucket of hot coals. Running swiftly for the back door, the redhead closed it tightly and slid the bolt, then on the way back closed a few opened windows. It hadn't taken long, but as soon as he'd stepped back into the living room, there was Hermione, perched in an overstuffed armchair.
"Oh, Ronnie, dear, next time you lock your wife out, make sure she doesn't know where the other key is hidden." She held a single silver key out in front of him.
He sighed dejectedly, snapping, "What do you want from me?"
She rolled her eyes, producing the scrolls once more. "As if I haven't made it already clear! Sign the divorce papers so that I can catch the Knight Bus and go back home to London!"
Ron backed away from her, walking into the kitchen and opening the icebox to take out a butterbeer. Popping the top on the bottle, he said, "You've got about three seconds before I call up the Auror chief to haul you out of here!" He started for the fireplace to call for the Auror chieftain.
"Oh!" She exclaimed, chasing after him. "You wouldn't! You know that old warlock Chester never liked me, back when I still lived here!"
"Well,. . .serve you right!" Ron shot back, seizing a container of glittery powder to throw into the flames.
***
Not long had passed before the Auror chief arrived at the Weasley home, where Ron met with him at the back door. Hermione, meanwhile, was trying to cower behind the sofa so that no one would be able to catch a glimpse of her.
"So who's up in here causing trouble?" A singsong, familiar voice rang out.
Hermione's worry dropped away and a happiness welled up inside of her as she recognized that voice. Darting up from her hiding place, she spotted Harry, who was wearing black robes, coming inside and making his way towards her. "My stars, Harry?!" She rushed forward to hug him tight.
"Hey, hey!" He replied in a tone as cheery as hers, returning her hug. "It's been way too long! It's so great to see you again!"
Hermione loosened her embrace on him. "It's good to see you, too! When did you get to be Auror chief around here?"
"Oh, awhile ago, after ol' Chester retired to Tahiti. I hear all of that sunshine is doing wonders for him," Harry replied lightly, smiling.
She laughed, and then said, "Got a few tricks still up your sleeve, have you, Harry?"
"No more than usual."
Hermione grinned and hugged him again, noticing over his shoulder that Ron, who had been hanging back, was approaching them now. "Well, aren't you going to take her uptown for breaking and entering?"
Harry looked over at his old friend. "Now, Herm, if you've done that. . ."
"No, Harry! I have my key!" She exclaimed, plunging her hand into the pocket of her robes and pulling out the silver key.
The raven-haired wizard glanced back at his redhead mate, who was speaking again. "Well, she's definitely been harassing me, here!"
Hermione jumped in, clutching the scrolls. "Only to get him to sign these papers, Harry!" She thrust them in his face.
Harry took them and stared down at the parchment for a few moments, and then said, "Well, divorce proceedings!" Looking back up, "Well, then, it seems you two are still married! This isn't more than just a little domestic spat." And then, to Ron, "Not too much I can do 'bout that, mate. Sorry."
Ron sighed in disgust, but Hermione was wearing a pleased look on her face as Harry started for the door. "See you two around, I've got to be getting back uptown." But halfway there, Ron intercepted him.
"Wait! Just hold on for a minute there! What about that bewitching to Gladrags Wizardwear a few years back, when the doors wouldn't open for hours! Vandalism, I believe! That was little Miss News Reporter, right here!" The redhead exclaimed, wildly gesturing in Hermione's direction.
"Oh!" She half-screamed, affronted. "And who exactly was in on that little bit of nighttime fun with me? Yes, Mister Know-It-All Weasley right here!"
Harry glanced back and forth between his two best friends. "Oh, just drop it you two," he sighed, half-amused nonetheless. Turning to Hermione, he said, "Herm, have you dropped in to see your parents yet?"
She stared down at the carpet. "Well, no, not exactly, yet," she admitted.
The raven-haired Auror reached over and took hold of her arm. "Well, come on then, I'll bring you back into town with me. Let's go."
Hermione struggled against him as they ambled out the back door. "No, Harry, I don't have that much time. Can't you please just let me get Ron to sign the papers? Oh, come on, Harry, let go of me, this is childish -"
He looked over at her. "It's best you give Ron space to cool down. You know how he can be."
The redhead suddenly appeared at the screen door. "Oh, how is it I can be, exactly?" He questioned.
Harry averted his eyes as he led Hermione away from the house. "Er. . .no comment, mate."
***
It was nighttime by the time Hermione had departed from uptown and in the direction of her parents' home. Charlotte Granger, her dear old mum, was pleased indeed to see Hermione standing on the doorstep when she opened it up in response to the ringing bell. Pushing the screen door opened wider, she exclaimed, pulling her daughter into a hug, "Oh my stars, Hermione! It's so wonderful to see you!"
"Yeah," the curly-haired witch replied weakly, awkwardly returning her mother's embrace. "Yeah, I'm in town for a few days, wrapping up some loose ends, you know."
John Granger, her dad, of course, suddenly appeared at the door, trading hugs with his daughter as well. "Well, look at you! My little Hermy has surely become quite the young lady, hasn't she?"
"Yeah, Dad, I'm really doing well for myself in London," she smiled. "It's really great."
Mr. Granger helped haul Hermione's luggage into the house, and then she and her dad sat down in the living room while Mrs. Granger rushed off to the kitchen to make some tea.
As he leaned back into his armchair, Hermione's father glanced over at her and attempted some small talk. "So what's been going on, dear?"
She ruffled her nutmeg locks in thought, and then said wearily, "Well, I. . .I've really been trying to get things taken care of here. . .but I'm finding that owl post doesn't seem to be cutting it."
Mr. Granger merely nodded. He was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "So I guess it seems you were by Ron's today."
Hermione shot him a look. "How do you know about that?"
"The hotline. Met Harry uptown earlier on."
She sighed. "It's those stupid papers that he won't sign. I can't get it through his thick head to just write his name on them and then we can be done with this whole fiasco."
"Well, Herm, I don't suppose the high point of Ron's day would be to sign his name to a divorce, you know," Mr. Granger said softly.
Hermione sighed again. "Look, Dad, I know you really like Ron, he's like the son you never had, despite the fact that he's not a Muggle, but please can't you be interested in your daughter now?"
He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing, which was just as well, because Mrs. Granger had just appeared back into the living room carrying a tea tray. Placing it onto the coffee table, she reached over to the end table by the sofa where Hermione was sitting, and withdrew a pair of boarding passes.
Extending them to her daughter, Mrs. Granger said, "I really should return these to you, love. The London Underground tickets were a wonderful gesture, but I'm sorry that we just couldn't make it."
"Mum, those were a gift," Hermione replied, handing them back. "For you to come visit me in London, to see how my career is going, to take part in your daughter's life."
John and Charlotte shared a glance, and then the latter turned back to Hermione. "Well, dear, there were plenty of times you could've come back to Hogsmeade to visit us, you know. The door swings both ways, love."
Mr. Granger jumped in. "This is your kind of place to be, not ours. But we wanted to be with you while you lived here, so we obliged. And even though we're comfortable here now, it's still discouraging that you up and left us."
They had trodden on a touchy subject for Hermione, which they realized as her face reddened. She did not reply to their words, but instead jabbed her hand inside of her of her robes, pulled out her ring, and slipped it on. "Well, look, Mother, Father. London has offered me a life that I never would have dreamed of if I stayed here all of my life. I'm happy there, I have a great career, and. . .I have a boyfriend. He loves me. And I love him." With that, she held up her left hand to show the glinting ruby on her finger.
"My stars," Mrs. Granger murmured as she examined Hermione's engagement ring. Mr. Granger seemed to be at a loss for words completely.
After a few more moments of this, Hermione mumbled wearily, "I'm going to bed," and started off for her old bedroom.
***
To Be Continued