Chapter Two: Together Again

Hermione didn't realize that she was fussing with her collar until her father patted her shoulder gently.

"You look fine, darling," Mr. Granger whispered kindly. Hermione dropped her hand quickly, instead focusing on dragging her trunk after her. Crookshanks sat atop the huge Hogwarts trunk, scowling at the passer-bys that walked past the family of three. Hermione was looking at her feet now, embarrassed that she had been caught being nervous. She didn't even notice when they walked up to the Muggle entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. She didn't even notice when they walked past Tom, the bartender, and so many more people she would have recognized. Only when her mother's voice penetrated through the clouds of her thoughts did she look up again.

"Hermione, dear, get your wand out..." Hermione looked up, and she saw that they were facing the brick wall that would take them to Diagon Alley. Shaking the surrounding clouds from her mind, Hermione drew her wand from her pocket and tapped the correct bricks in succession. Noisily, the bricks shifted their positions to make a wide arch through which the three of them traversed. As if someone had breathed new life into her, Hermione straightened up and a grin spread across her face. She was back.

Laughter, singing and talking rose high in the air, mingled for a few moments, then dispersed above the rooftops. Everywhere, there was an electric feeling of excitement, escalated by the thrill deep in Hermione's chest that she would be seeing her friends again after so long. The day was bright, the sky was blue, and not a cloud obscured the lovely view before her. Practically skipping, Hermione lugged her trunk down the main street of Diagon Alley.

The items gleaming from the other side of the windows glittered happily at her, and everywhere she went, she was greeted with the reflection of her own smiling face and long bushy hair. She spotted Neville Longbottom, waving to him genially. He waved timidly back, smiling. Beside him was his grandmother, bedecked in yet again another outrageous outfit. Hermione suppressed a giggle and moved on. More faces in the crowd became distinguishable. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, seemingly inseparable; Ernie MacMillian followed by the pretty Hannah Abbot; Her own fellow Gryffindor girls Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil waved to her from the Magical Menagerie, where Hermione suspected one of them may have been buying a pet.

There were two very important faces that she hadn't spotted yet. She stood on tiptoe to see if she could somehow spot the black-haired Harry and the tall red-head Ron over any of the other people in the crowded street. No luck. Frowning, she turned to her parents. They smiled.

"Hermione, you keep looking for Ron," Mr. Granger said as he squeezed her shoulder gently. "We'll be in Flourish and Blott's getting your schoolbooks, okay?" Hermione forced a smile.

"Okay."

She took another quick look around her, and began heading back to the Leaky Cauldron. Maybe she'd wait there, have a drink, and if Ron didn't show up in an hour, she would go looking for him again.

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"All right there, Arthur?" Tom asked from the bar as Arthur Weasley emerged from the fireplace, covered in soot. He brushed himself off, setting his hat back into the correct position atop his head with a smile and a nod.

"Yes, Tom, thank you." He stepped back from the fireplace quickly, for he had an idea that another Weasley would be coming not too soon after.

"A bit early this year, Arthur? Not usual you do your Hogwarts shopping until later in the month, ain't it?" Tom asked as he served a drink to a particularly ugly witch. Mr. Weasley smiled again. He would have answered if Ron had not flown out of the fireplace at that time, dirtier than Mr. Weasley before him. He coughed, exhaling a cloud of ash and rubbing it from his eyes.

"Blimey," Ron muttered, dusting the ash from his body. "Stand back, Dad. Fred's coming right after me." Sure enough, Fred, followed closely by George and finally Ginny, emerged sooty and black from the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace. Ginny had the worst of it, her entire face blackened. George tried to wipe her face with his cloak, but only managed to smear more over her face.

"Cut it, George!" Ginny bellowed, feeling at the clips holding her hair in place.

"If you lot need it, you can use the loo to clean up. I 'spect you're meeting up with someone?" Tom gestured. Ron's ears were aflame, looking everywhere but at Fred and George, who were sniggering. They knew that Ron had gotten up earlier than anyone else in the Burrow had, staring in the mirror and willing for his hair to be normal. Ron shoved past the two of them, unconsciously trying to fix his mussed-up hair as he strode toward the lavatory. Once there, he wiped his face clean and tried his best to get his hair to lay just right. The door opened, and two sets of feet clamored in unceremoniously.

"Ron," George said as he came up behind Ron and stared into the mirror to meet his brother's eyes. "We need to have a talk." Fred took Ron's shoulder in his hand and nodded at his twin.

"It's a talk that we all must go through." They both lifted Ron off of his feet and set him down on the sink ledge, staring pointedly at him.

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked, raising one eyebrow. The twins looked at each other with the same smile.

"Women," they both said at once. The younger boy's face did two things at once: flushed brilliantly and furrowed into a look of anger.

"Look, Ron, you can't hide anything from us," Fred said with a waggling finger.

"We're your brothers, and we know exactly-"

"No, no you don't," Ron grunted as he lifted himself off of the ledge.

"Trust us, we know a lot about women," George said, making sure that Ron couldn't leave. "Everything you need to know."

"And some things you wish you didn't," Fred added with a mischievous smile. George cuffed him over the head and turned back to Ron.

"We know you've got a thing for Hermione," George said at last. Ron had known it was coming, but that didn't stop his whole face from looking like a tomato. He tried to push his way past his brothers.

"Ridiculous... Just friends... Gerrout of my way..." Ron muttered and mumbled, but it was no use.

"Just listen," Fred said, his patience wearing thin.

"I'll be over in just a minute," George said quickly. "Listen, no point in denying it, you like Hermione." Before Ron could protest again, Fred continued.

"First thing you must remember, little brother, is that the more you seem uninterested, the more they want you."

The horrible memory from the 4th year, asking Fleur Delacour to the Yule Ball and getting the icy shoulder, flashed painfully in Ron's memory.

"Women love it when you compliment them. Lay it on thick. It pays off." The strange look in George's eye made Ron blanch.

"Buy them things. Lots of ridiculous things."

"If they want to dance, for all things good and holy, you better be dancing."

"If you just pretend like you're listening, there's a good chance that they'll think you are."

"And, most importantly-"

"Boys," Mr. Weasley said as he entered the lavatory, "come now, we haven't got all day. Clean? Good, yes, come on..." Mr. Weasley paused only to wash his face clean of ash, and paraded the boys back out into the Leaky Cauldron.

There she was.

She hadn't seen him yet, but he sure had seen her. He knew that he had seen her dressed up before, at the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum. She had looked wonderful then, but now she looked somehow... different. The way that the light filtered in through the yellowed windows and shone down upon her, or the way she flipped her head to move the ringlets of hair from her face. Then she turned, and it was as if the light in the room increased suddenly. Her smile filled her face, and Ron couldn't help but return it. Sure, she had looked beautiful before, but then, she had been beautiful for Vicky Krum. Now, she was beautiful for Ron. His smile widened.

To Hermione, seeing Ron was like a warm drink after a long, cold night. She was filled with warmth all over, and it was as if nothing mattered. It didn't matter to her that Ron seemed at a loss for words around her. It didn't matter that she could hear Fred and George sniggering nearby. For even a moment, it didn't matter if Harry couldn't make it away from his aunt and uncle's house. All that mattered then was that she had finally found Ron Weasley... and that the fact made her happy. She saw Ron's smile, and she couldn't help but feel her own smile grow.

"Hermione," Ron said at last, breaking the awkward silence that everyone knew had filled the air. We- ... We were just about to go look for you," he said, finding the right words eventually. Hermione dragged her trunk behind her as she walked up into the patch of red hair that was the Weasleys.

"We were just looking for you," she said in a voice that sounded like a heavy sigh. Whether of relief or despair, Ron wasn't sure, but he hoped it was the former. "Mum and Dad are off in Flourish and Blott's, buying this years' school things. I thought I'd come back looking for you and-" She couldn't quiet find her words, so she simply shrugged her shoulders and smiled. She couldn't hold it in any longer, and she reached out and hugged every single Weasley in the establishment. "Oh, I've missed you all so much!"

"We missed you too, 'Mione!" Fred said, receiving his hug.

"Yes, after all, it's not Hogwarts without us," George said with an extra pat on the back to Hermione as she hugged him. Hermione gave him an odd look, wondering if Ron had showed her letter to everyone in the household. Finally, after hugging Ginny, she moved to embrace Ron. Ron's face blanched horribly, which was so terribly uncharacteristic of him that Hermione paused for only a fraction of a moment. But it was enough to register on the minds of the Twins, who shot each other glances with raised eyebrows. Hermione tried to think that she had imagined the change in Ron's face ash she hugged herself close to him. But as she pulled away, she noticed that her friend was oddly stiff and silent, merely patting her on the back in a friendly-type manner. Stepping back to fetch her trunk, she saw the corner or Ron's mouth twitch into an inkling of a smile.

"Hermione," Mr. Weasley said after she had taken a firm hold on her trunk. "Did you say that your parents were in Flourish and Blott's?" His smile was inviting and calm. Hermione nodded genially. She had always liked Mr. Weasley. No... She had always loved all of the Weasleys. Well, she thought with a slight frown, maybe not Percy. But any of the other Weasleys was as lovable as the next, and without provocation, her eyes flicked to where Ron still stood rooted to the spot.

"Yes," she said, looking away, back to Mr. Weasley. "They told me that any year without Gilderoy Lockhart books on the list was a good year." She heard a loud cough coming from Ron's direction, and she looked back over to him. His eyes were looking everywhere but at her, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. She knew that, normally, she would have done something rash. Perhaps rolled her eyes and scoffed at him. Maybe throw a taunt about Fleur into the air. But nothing came. Only a smile. This was the Ron she remembered. That was just the way that she liked him.

"Well, we should be off then!" Mr. Weasley cried, making sure that he had rid most of the ash from his robes and straightening himself to full height. "Hate to keep them waiting, you know."

As the six of them walked down Diagon Alley, Ron's voice seemed to return to him. And he seemed to have suddenly noticed everything around him, for he began talking to Hermione as if she had never been in the Wizarding world, let alone Diagon Alley. His finger pointed to where Hermione had seen Parvati and Lavender before, and she saw now that Parvati was cuddling a rather frightened looking tabby cat.

"Hermione, do you remember when you bought that monster of a cat there?" He seemed to have forgotten that Crookshanks was with them, as the cat uttered a low hiss. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean, 'monster of a cat'?" She asked in a dejected voice. Ron dropped his eyes to where Crookshanks sat perched atop Hermione's trunk.

"Well... I mean... He's not... Normal."

"Of course not," Hermione cooed, petting her cat's scruffy fur. "Who on Earth would want a normal cat?" Crookshanks seemed to find these words acceptable, and he purred in a rumbling voice. Ron was unconvinced. He was sure that something was very odd about that cat, but getting into a row with Hermione in the middle of Diagon Alley was not something he particularly wanted to do. So, instead, he jabbed his finger across Hermione's face at a store directly to her right.

"You see that shop there? Quality Quidditch Supplies?" She saw the store he was referring to. Indeed, it was quite hard to miss. It was bedecked in England's Quidditch colors with a great assortment of brooms sitting in the great window out front. There were even a small number of brooms enchanted to fly just over the sign out front. As usual, there was a considerable crowd surrounding the window as children pressed their noses against the glass, hoping to get a better look at the newest, fastest brooms.

"What about it?" She asked. She was rather sure that he didn't point it out just for the sake of doing so.

"In their first year, Fred and George stood in front of that very window and created the greatest uproar I think Diagon Alley's ever seen," he said, retracting his arm back to his side. Hermione took another look at the window, seeing, in her mind, the young Weasley twins rolling on the ground, screaming as loud as one possibly could.

"I couldn't possibly imagine," she said with a smile and a glance over her shoulder at the now grown Twins, who were conversing in whispers.

"Oh yeah," Ron said dramatically, playing it out to its fullest. "I was only nine when it happened, but try to imagine this: Fred and George, only smaller, squeakier and about twenty times more annoying. On their knees begging Mum for a broom each. Going on and on about how amazing the Comet 260 was."

"Oh, Mum, can I please have a Nimbus?" It was Fred. He had raised his voice again, this time in what Hermione realized was a very good impression of a young Ron. She and Ron watched as Fred and George moved in front of them, acting out a very different scene. George waggled a finger at Fred.

"Ronald," George said in what must have been an imitation of their mother, "you know that we can't get you a new broom. You'll use Charlie's old broom or none at all!"

"But Muuuuum..." Fred whined in his nasal Ron voice. Hermione was about to giggle, when she noticed that Ron's eyes were at his feet and his face was crimson. Her smile faded. Fred and George continued bantering back and forth as Ron and Mrs. Weasley, respectively, down the main street. Ron clenched his fists.

"Great... Stupid... Prats..." He muttered between his teeth. "Always have to... Completely inappropriate time... Could have... Stupid... Gits..."

"Ron?" Hermione's voice broke through the heat of his temporary hatred for the Twins, and he looked up.

"Hermione! Ron! There you are!" The Grangers emerged from the crowd before them as if they had been standing there waiting. As he was scooped up in a hug from Mrs. Granger, Ron thought that perhaps they had just been standing there... Hermione relieved her parents of the burden of her schoolbooks, lifted Crookshanks and placed the books neatly where he had been splayed. Carefully replacing her cat in his previous position, her father gave her the change from her books, which consisted of three Galleons, seven Sickles and five Knuts. As Mr. Weasley intercepted the Grangers, Hermione turned to the red-faced Ron and extended the money in her hand.

"Hungry?" She asked, nodding toward Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. He wanted to shout, 'Yes! I'm starving! I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday!' but instead, as a slow smile crept over his face, he said:

"I'm sure I could get through one cone, somehow."