a/n: Aw, thanks reviewers! I feel loved... Anyway here is the next installment of Walk Down Magic Lane. This will include some catch-up notes from the first story, in case you didn't read it (like... Ron's dead, for instance) Enjoy! Also, please r/r. Have fun flaming: any flames will be used to burn my science notes. (Ps: I'm not British, but I am trying to keep this as authentic as possible. If you see any mistakes in language, please review and tell me. I'd really appreciate it.)
[There are 2 OotP spoilers in this paragraph. Don't flame me for them] I have read the 5th book (I got it Saturday morning and finished it by 9:30 that night...) but I am not planning on changing any of the pairings or situations in this story to fit the fact that Ginny is over Harry or some such thing. Or the fact that its fifth year and Ron is alive. (in my story, as you know, Ron died after 4th year) So this will not include any spoilers if you don't include the sentence I just wrote or the one that is coming after this. That is, HOW COULD SIRIUS DIE!! :-( *cries* Okay, back to the story)
Chapter 2*Hogwarts – September 23rd – 4:30 PM – Hermione's office
Hermione sat in a stiff backed wooden chair behind her desk. She stretched her arms over her head before dropping her head on to the solid desk. She was exhausted. Weary. Worn-out. Bushed. Dead-beat. All-in. The list went on and on. Over the summer, she had thought in her naivety that the hardest part of her job would be teaching 1st years the most basic skills of charms. On her first day back, she had decided that her extracurricular assignments would be the most difficult to overcome. But no. She wasn't so lucky. The most demanding part of her job had become teaching the seventh years. The Gryffindor seventh years, to be specific. With her other classes Hermione had clicked. She understood more than the other teachers what it was like to be a student. She remembered the give and take relationship her friends had had with their professors (not she, Hermione gave every ounce she had, regardless of the teacher. That, of course, was her nature). But the seventh years seemed to forget that she was no longer a student. The next time one of them (namely Miss Virginia Weasley) called out, generally disrupted, or was insubordinate in class, Hermione didn't know what she would do. It was frustrating to the highest degree.
*Hogwarts – September 23rd – 7:30 PM – Quidditch Pitch
Harry Potter lay outstretched in the grass under the towering Quidditch hoops. His arms tucked around his head, he peered into the dark sky absorbed in thought. Ironically, the few weeks he had been back at Hogwarts had reminded him of his first year. Everywhere he went were the eyes of the students. "That's Harry Potter!" they would whisper gleefully as he passed them in the halls on the way to a class. It was immensely frustrating. He had always hated fame, despised the spotlight. He played Quidditch because he loved the sport – he had always hated the crowds. Looking back on childhood, he realized his favorite memories all centered around being at the Burrow over summer holidays and playing Quidditch with Ron and his brothers. And of course, scaring Hermione (who would stand safely with two feet planted on the ground) out of her wits end. That had all ended, of course, after Ron had died. Oh the Weasleys had invited him to come to them for the holidays, but he had never gone. For three years, he had become an entirely different person. He had needed his best friends back. And after some time, he and Hermione were together again. The dynamic duo. No longer the magnificent three....
Harry sat up, startled. He heard the soft swishing of grass behind him, and all small plunk as Hermione landed on the grass at his side. He sat up quietly and gently put an arm around her waste as she lay her head on his shoulder. "Hi," she murmured softly.
"Hey," Harry said kissing her gently on the forehead, "Grading got you down?"
"Yeah. And trying to figure out lesson plans for a bunch of 17 year olds who seem to forget that they have to listen to me," Hermione grumbled into his shoulder, "You're lucky. You don't have to teach seventh years."
"Right, I only have to coach Quidditch and put up with 40 first years who have never seen a broomstick before." Harry laughed.
"Lets consider it a draw then. We're both slightly miserable," Hermione laughed comfortably, "But you have to admit, it is wonderful to be at Hogwarts."
"True," Harry consented.
The pair sat in silence for some time, staring out at the rapidly darkening grounds. Finally, Hermione whispered, "Harry, what are you thinking about?
"Ron."
"I am too."
"I miss him," Harry said quietly. "I hadn't thought about it much since... you know..."
"I thought about him a lot last year." Hermione said quietly.
"Oh? Harry turned to face his girlfriend, "Why?"
"Harry, I was in love with him," Hermione said quietly, "And when I fell for you... Well, it brought back a lot of old memories, that's all."
Harry leaned down, and brushed Hermione's lips with a kiss, "How did you do it, Hermione?"
"How did I do what?"
"Keep yourself barricaded in those tiny dormitories for three years. I had to be around people. I had to try to forget about it. I think that's why I... I did the things I did."
"Because opposites attract," Hermione smiled, "I had to think it through, time after time again. I kept reliving my memories. And when it was too much... I studied."
"And I caused havoc," Harry said lightly, "Do you remember Lupin trying to set us up with that DADA project?"
"Oh yes!" Hermione laughed, "Do you realize Harry, that Ginny and Colin are still the only two people who know that you and I are dating?"
"You're right, we haven't exactly told anyone, have we?"
"You know... darling... We might want to look into that one of these days. Or else we're going to find ourselves in a very compromising position. Because someday... well we'll either be engaged or break up. And its going to be very odd when people wonder how we got engaged or split off when we weren't even dating..." Hermione chuckled.
"Also right. How should we do it? And where should we start?"
"We should start with the Weasleys, since we're practically their adopted children and since you haven't spoken to Molly or Arthur since Ron died." Hermione said, practically.
"You're right, per usual. We'll go this weekend. Its a Hogsmeade trip anyway."
*The Burrow – September 28th – 11:00 AM
Molly Weasley bustled about her kitchen briskly, waving her wand in every direction. She moved at the speed of light from adding thick cream poured from the tip of her wand into a pot of sauce on the stove to directing her feather duster to finish off the mantle. She liked to keep herself busy. It was better than thinking about Ginny, who was graduating this year without any idea of what she would do with her life. Or pondering whether or not George was ever going to settle down. Or trying to resist calling Fred's wife, Angelina, and inquiring after her soon-to-be-born grandson. She even worried about Harry Potter, although she hadn't seen him since... And Hermione of course! The girl was like her daughter; she hated to see her suffering. And of course, she couldn't think about Ron. That was too painful. Many people had said, after his death, that she was lucky to have her other children to console her. They didn't understand. Losing your child to death was one of the most horrific things, especially for a warm and vital woman like Molly Weasley.
Suddenly, a sharp knock sounded at the door. Curious, she laid down her wand, commanding the hustle in the house to stop, and strode toward the door. Smoothing her hair with one hand, she pulled the door open and said, "Yes?" A moment later, it registered whom the two people standing on the porch were. "Her-Hermione? Harry?" Smiling uncontrollably she flung her arms around the two of them in a bone-shattering hug. "Oh goodness... Please, please come in!" Harry and Hermione glanced at each other cheerfully, and stepped inside the comfortably cluttered kitchen. Mrs. Weasley, her hands shaking, bustled around the room trying to find things for tea. Minutes later, she put cups down in front of the pair and beamed widely. "Harry, its been... at least three years now, hasn't it? And Hermione dear, you haven't come to see me since your 6th year."
"Oh Molly, I wanted to come this summer, but life was a little hectic. I'm sure Ginny has told you what I'm doing now? What we're both doing now?"
"No, not at all dear." Mrs. Weasley answered, "I'm so glad that you've found a good job though. Tell me now, what is it you're doing."
"Well... err... Molly," Harry said slowly, "Hermione's teaching charms. And I'm the flying master."
"At Hogwarts?" Mrs. Weasley said faintly, "Ginny hasn't said a word about that."
"There's a reason for that too, Molly. Harry and I are... how to put this... romantically involved."
"And I don't think Ginny is happy about it," Harry added, somewhat cynically.
Mrs. Weasley teared up, "Oh dears... I'm so happy!" She burst into floods of tears. She threw her arms around Hermione's neck, holding her tightly and sobbing all over her robes.
Hermione patted her surrogate mother on the back, "We hoped you would be, Molly."
"Yeah," Harry whispered under his breath, "Especially after Ginny's reaction..."
Mrs. Weasley released Hermione and sank back into her chair, drying her eyes with a starched handkerchief, "Well Ginny has fancied you for quite some time now Harry dear. I'm sure she'll get over it. Now tell me, is it wonderful to be back at Hogwarts again?"
"Oh yes," Hermione gushed, "In fact..." Hermione and Mrs. Weasley were soon wrapped up in a deep conversation about the wonders of Hogwarts from an adult standpoint.
Finally, when Hermione took a breath from her long-winded summary of her first classes, Harry interrupted briefly, "Molly, I'm wondering... Would you mind if I went up to Ron's room for a bit? Just for a few minutes, I mean..." Harry trailed off uncertainly.
"Of course you can dear," Mrs. Weasley forced a little smile, "You'll find it much the same as it was when you were last in it. We haven't done anything to change it at all."
"Thank you," Harry said quietly, as he disappeared up the winding stairs to the room at the top of the house.
An hour or so later, Harry and Hermione stood together on the road outside of the burrow, waving to a beaming Molly Weasley at the door. With one final wave they apparated back to Hogsmeade, where they began the winding walk up the trail to Hogwarts. "Harry?" Hermione asked quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Why did you want to see Ron's old room? You don't have to answer, if you don't want to."
"I don't know. I'm always trying to find closure for... for what happened after fourth year." Harry said, looking up toward the turreted castle on the hill.
"That's what I had guessed," Hermione murmured softly, "Harry..."
"What?"
"You don't really have to do this alone, you know? I mean, you don't need to miss him alone. We all do."
"I know, Hermione, I know. I just have to deal with this right now, okay?" Harry said, looking his girlfriend straight in the eye, unwavering.
"I understand Harry." Hermione said. They walked along for several minutes before Harry carefully entwined his hand in hers. Smiling at each other, they made the rest of the hike to Hogwarts.
a/n: Oh my God, that was sooooo disgustingly sappy.... Sorry! I'll do better next time!
Love, Polei