A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed! You all have no idea how much getting a new review makes my day, and inspires me to continue. So… thank you!

Letters: Hermione's Side

Dear Hermione,

How is everything with you? How are your summer holidays going so far?

I expect you're going mad with the break from teaching, eh?

Things here are all right. I've been quite busy with work, and, well, other things. These other things bring me to the reason for writing to you.

Mum and dad's fortieth anniversary is coming up and we've decided to throw a party. After all they've been… Well, let's just say it's well-deserved.

I know that coming to our house is probably the last thing you want, but mum and dad have always been fond of you, and, well, it would mean the world to them to have you there.

I'll understand either way, but I do hope you decide to come.

Either way, I'll be in Diagon Alley in a fortnight, to pick out their present and pick up some decorations and other supplies for the celebration. I know your summer flat is near there, and, well, I was hoping you'd maybe like to join me for lunch?

And if you would like to go to the party, mum's said that you're perfectly welcome to stay with us until the party, if you have nowhere else that you have to be, of course.

To be honest, I could actually use an extra female around the house. Mum's been going nuts with all the boys. She's not even supposed to worry about the party, but you know how mum is. Doesn't trust my brothers to do anything, and, well, when the entire family is involved, well, you know how she is.

I think having you around might help to keep us both a bit saner.

Not to mention that it would be nice to see you. We haven't had much time to get together lately.

Well, at any rate, I hope to hear back from you soon.

Love from,

Ginny

*****

Hermione wasn't quite sure what had possessed her to accept Ginny's invitation, but two weeks later, she found herself sitting at one of the tables outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, waiting for Ginny.

Ginny had been the only one from school that had really made an effort to keep in touch over the years.

A surge of anger welled up in her as she thought of Ron and Harry, both of whom had left after graduation.

Harry, of course, had disappeared immediately after the battle.

She hadn't even realized he was alive until Ginny had told her that Ron had seen him leave.

She had been so angry with him.

After what had happened with Viktor, after everything, he'd just left. Without saying goodbye.

Well, the closest he'd come to saying goodbye was to tell Ron to send them his regards.

Just like that.

After seven years of friendship. Friendship that she'd thought could stand up to any test that might be thrown its way.

*****

"Ginny?" Hermione had had to track Ginny down after the battle. She'd refused to go to the hospital wing until everyone with more serious injuries had been tended to. Typical, Hermione had thought, a burst of annoyance surging through her.

She'd found Ginny sitting by the lake, her hair disheveled and her face smudged with dirt, a series of large angry gashes running down her arm.

Ginny sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, staring at the lake, seemingly unaware of her injuries.

"Ginny?" Hermione asked quietly, taking a seat next to the petite redhead, trying not to wince as she struggled to find a comfortable place for her left hand, which was bandaged, having caught a very nasty, and as yet unidentified curse.

"He's really gone," Ginny's voice came quietly.

For a brief moment, Hermione's insides turned to ice as she considered the fact that maybe Harry hadn't made it.

She had seen Ron briefly, but he had avoided eye contact and hurried out of the Hospital Wing as soon as Madam Pomfrey had announced that she was going to be all right and begun to work on her injuries. But, she'd assumed that if something had happened to Harry, he'd tell her.

Even if they had been avoiding each other.

"Pardon?" Hermione asked, her mouth suddenly very dry, the word barely making it past her lips.

"Harry," Ginny answered. "He's left. Which reminds me," she looked at Hermione. "Ron says that I'm to tell you goodbye for Harry."

"He… left?" Hermione asked, frowning, still trying to grasp the concept.

"Yes," Ginny said with a short nod, her eyes shifting back to the lake.

"Will he be back?" Hermione asked after a minute.

"Doesn't look that way, does it?" Beside her, Ginny's posture went rigid and she bit her lip, but her voice remained even and controlled, almost eerily so.

"Oh, Ginny," Hermione said gently, putting an arm around Ron's little sister as a few tears made their way silently down her cheeks.

But even as she shed the tears, she felt a large swell of anger towards Harry for just leaving like that.

For leaving Ginny. For leaving his best friends.

For not bothering to see beyond his own troubles, to see that other people had been affected by this too.

That other people needed him.

*****

She would remain angry for a long time.

It was only much, much later that she began to allow herself to understand why he had left.

It would take years for her to allow herself to think about the sight of Voldemort's broken body, to think about what Harry must have gone through to kill him.

Over the years, she had tried to start letters to Harry, had tried to find the right wording.

She, Hermione Granger, now a Professor of Charms, and author of several respected articles that had found their way into professional journals across the United Kingdom, and had even been published in a few international wizarding journals, could not find the words to write a simple letter to an old friend.

With Ron, it was different. She had boxes full of unsent letters.

He'd left a week after graduation. Ginny had begun to write her, keeping her updated. She'd known when Ron had graduated Auror training, and she'd heard whatever details-if any-were included in his very rare letters.

She'd heard about Mrs. Weasley's reaction to Ron's career choice as well. And to his lack of communication, save for the odd letter, never written with enough detail, and never often enough.

More recently, she'd heard that Ron had been awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, for finally bringing Lucius and Draco Malfoy to justice.

She'd written him a ten page letter after hearing that, convinced that she knew the reason he'd spent the last four years tracking them down.

The letter was now at the top of the ever-growing pile in the box under her bed.

In the end, her pride always got the best of her.

Ron had left. One week after Harry had left.

He had to have known she needed him.

He should have known.

"Vanilla?" Ginny's voice broke through her thoughts and Hermione's head snapped up almost guiltily.

"Yes," she said quickly, forcing a smile in an attempt to hide her distraction.

Ginny's brow furrowed and she looked as if she were about to ask, but then thought better of it, and instead turned and headed inside.

She returned a few minutes later with Hermione's traditional two scoops of vanilla and her own violently coloured Every Flavour ice cream, modeled after Bertie Bott's famous beans.

Hermione tried to hide a smile at Ginny's choice of flavour. Ginny always had been adventurous, but this? Well, it was certainly more adventurous than Hermione preferred to be.

Yes, vanilla suited her just fine.

"I'm glad you'll be coming home with me," Ginny said with a bright smile, and then averted her eyes to her ice cream.

For a brief second, Hermione got the feeling that Ginny was attempting to hide something. But then the girl looked up again, met her eyes and smiled, and Hermione realized she was probably being silly.

What could Ginny have to hide after all?

*****

"What do you mean, Ron's coming home with us? You just happened to run into him, and he just happened to agree to come home?"

Ginny winced, and Hermione felt guilty for her reaction.

Her feelings aside, Ron was Ginny's brother. And he had been gone for four years.

What was Ginny expected to do? Not invite him?

And of course she'd be excited.

When it came down to it, Hermione felt a twinge of excitement at the thought of seeing Ron as well.

Even if she immediately stamped it down, reminding herself that she was still very hurt that he had left when she'd needed him the most.

They met up with Ron outside Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Hi," he said, visibly uncomfortable as the two girls approached.

From his awkward stance, Hermione was more than certain that Ginny had neglected to tell him that she was coming along.

"Hi," she replied, suddenly feeling the urge to turn and flee.

What had she been thinking?

Spending two weeks sleeping in the same house as Ron and Ron's family?

She had officially gone nutters.

Totally and completely.

"We may as well go now," Ginny finally broke through the tension-filled silence. "Just meet me in mum's kitchen, all right?" she asked, meeting both their eyes in turn.

Hermione set her jaw, reminding herself that she was a Gryffindor, and that she could do this.

She closed her eyes and concentrated.

Pop!

Pop! Pop!

Hermione opened her eyes and was greeted with a roar of sound.

"Hermione!" Molly Weasley cried, throwing her arms around her. But the woman froze, and then released the embrace as she caught sight of the young man that had accompanied them.

"Ronald," she whispered, taking a step towards him, reaching out to him, but looking as if she was afraid to touch him. As if she didn't quite believe he was real.

Ron, looking slightly embarrassed, but pleased to see his mother nodded. "It's me, mum," he said, bowing his head slightly, and for just an instant, Hermione was struck by how little he had changed since school.

Smack!

"Ow, what was that for?" Ron protested.

"Four years! And only five letters, if you could even call those one sentence postcards letters!" Molly's brown eyes flashed angrily. But then, just as suddenly as the anger had appeared, it was gone again, and she'd pulled Ron into a hug.

"Mum," his voice was muffled as he received a faceful of Weasley red hair.

After the embrace had gone on long enough that both Hermione and Ginny were avoiding meeting each other's eyes, and trying to suppress giggles, Ron started to struggle.

"Geroff, mum," he protested.

"Oh fine," Mrs. Weasley said, releasing him. She stared at him for a second and then gave him another smack on the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" he protested.

"For not coming home straight away to show us your Order of Merlin, First Class," she said sharply. "And to remind you never to go away again."

"Oh mum," Ron said, attempting to sound annoyed, but from the way his face shone, it was clear that he was more than happy to be home, and even to be on the wrong side of a Molly Weasley scolding.

And then, his blue eyes flickered over to Hermione's and he grinned at her.

In that moment, as she stood there, sharing a grin with him, Hermione was struck by just how much he had changed since school.

*****

"Tell us the one about the one-armed dark wizard again," George demanded, his laughter filling the cramped dining room.

Fred and George had decided to stop in for dinner, and had dominated the dinner conversation, pumping Ron for details on his life as an auror.

Not that Hermione had complained. She hadn't felt much like talking.

Before dinner, she'd managed to avoid Ron by taking a walk in the Weasley's backyard, and she still hadn't decided just how she felt about being near him again.

"All right," Ron complied jovially.

As he began to retell the story for the second time that night, Hermione began to realize just how much of his life she had missed.

Just how far beyond being a part of his life she had become.

Funny how the two people she'd always imagined would be around had been the first to abandon her.

After…

And then she just couldn't take it anymore. Without warning, she shoved her chair back from the table and turned and fled from the room.

*****

"Hermione, what is it?" Ron asked, following her out of the dining room, concern written all over his face.

She whirled on him, suddenly angry.

"You left!" her eyes flashed. "Just like that. After the war, after Harry, after… You never even wrote to me."

"Well I didn't see any bloody letters from you either," he shot back, his face turning the colour of his hair as he responded to her harsh tone.

"Well, I would have written you if you'd written me first!" Hermione shot back.

"And I would have done the same, so clearly we're both too bull-headed for our own good," Ron replied.

"Well, you should have swallowed your pride for once, you know. You left me in case you don't remember."

"And you didn't really speak to me for months before I left!" An intense frustration filled his voice now.

"Ron, that's not fair," Hermione said, recoiling as if he'd slapped her. "You know…" she began, struggling for the words.

"I know that you'd rather it had been me than him," he whispered, avoiding her eyes at all costs. "That I failed you when you needed me most."

She stared at him incredulously, the words not even registering at first.

"What?" she asked hoarsely, trying to talk around the large lump that had formed in her throat.

"I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough," he whispered. "I'm sorry he had to…"

"You're a fool," she muttered, tears now streaming down her cheeks as she shook her head. "An absolute fool."

Ron merely focused on the ground. "I know. And I'm sorry."

"No," she said, more gently, taking a step towards him. "You don't understand." She sighed, closing her eyes, her shoulders shaking as she tried to fight back sobs. She failed, and one escaped her lips.

"Herm," his voice was gentle and before she knew what was happening, his arms were around her, and he was holding her as her body shook. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest, allowing herself to be comforted as he gently stroked her hair.

She allowed him to hold her like this for quite some time before she trusted herself to speak.

"I felt guilty seeing you," she began quietly. She could feel him looking down at her, and was fairly certain that he was confused, but he remained silent for once, allowing her to go on. "After what happened… a part of me," her voice lowered until it was barely audible, "A part of me was glad that if it had to be one of you, it wasn't you," she admitted, letting out a little sniffle. "That's awful, I know. I mean, it's not that I'm glad he's dead. Whatever else, he was a good friend, and I'm very sorry, and I know that he…"

"Hey," Ron said gently, his hand cupping her chin and lifting it so she'd met his eyes. "It's okay, Herm. You can't help how you feel, right? And it's not awful. It's… human, I suppose. And you can't spend your time thinking about what you would prefer, because when it came down to it, you didn't have a choice."

"None of us did," he added quietly. "And no amount of wishing or wanting or…"

"Spending four years of your life seeking revenge against his killers?" Hermione interjected gently.

Ron gave her a small encouraging smile then. It wasn't the type of smile that spread to his eyes, nor was it a very happy smile. "Yeah," he agreed.

"Is that why you left?" she asked quietly. "Because you thought I'd prefer it if it had been…" she trailed off, unable to say it.

"Yeah," he repeated, nodding slightly.

"Oh Ron," she said, throwing her arms around him, even through her tears.

Again his arms found their way around her and he just held her like that.

"I'm so sorry."

"Shh, it's all right now," he said huskily.

"Ron," she said again, but before she knew it, her lips had found his, his arms pulling her closer as everything else seemed to stop mattering.

*****

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked curiously, going over to take a seat next to Ron, automatically rubbing his back.

It had been a week and a half since they had first arrived at the Burrow and they had become nearly inseparable since then.

At night, they always took strolls out as far as the Weasley's property went, always lying down on the grass together and watching the stars, talking about what everything they had missed in each other's lives and, well, getting to know each other again.

And so, it was odd when, instead of going out for their nightly walk, she found Ron sitting on a bench in the backyard, chewing thoughtfully on the tip of a quill.

For a moment, she was forcefully reminded of his affinity for sugar quills.

"You suck on them in class, and just look like you're thinking what to write next."

She smiled fondly at the memory. Of course, the smile gave way to a look of curiosity as she remembered that this was not class, and that it was rare to see Ron this intent on something he was writing.

"Letter to Harry," he answered, looking up and meeting her gaze. "I thought…" he trailed off sheepishly. "It just feels wrong, you know? All of us here-you, me, Ginny, the twins, mum, dad, even Percy, Bill, and Charlie are making the journey. And no one's thought to invite Harry, you know? It just… feels wrong," he repeated.

"I know," Hermione said with a nod, increasing the pressure with which she rubbed his back somewhat, moving her hand in comforting circles.

"Do you write to Harry often?" she asked after a moment of thoughtful silence.

"Yes," Ron said with a small nod, looking at her nervously, as if expecting her to be angry.

She wasn't. She did feel a twinge of regret that he hadn't written to her in all this time, but Harry was his best friend. The two boys shared a bond that even Hermione couldn't quite be a part of.

"Does he write back?" she asked after a moment.

"No."

"Then how do you…" she trailed off, not wanting to give voice to the concerns she'd had in the years since Harry had gone missing.

"I just do." Ron answered, cutting off her thoughts.

"And you're writing to invite him to come to your mum's party?" Hermione asked, not wanting to argue with Ron's determination, despite her own doubts.

"Among other things." Ron replied with a small nod. He looked up and met Hermione's eyes. "I haven't written him since we've arrived here, and, well, a lot's happened since then." He smiled and took her hand, giving it a little squeeze.

Hermione couldn't help but smile back, a warm sensation spreading through her. "A lot that's been worth writing about?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," Ron said, giving her a lopsided smile, and leaning in to give her a chaste kiss on the lips. He pulled away a second later, scribbled a bit more onto the parchment, and then stood up, holding out his arm. "Just give me a second to send this out, and then we can go on our walk."

Hermione nodded, jumping in surprise as, within seconds, a large, handsome grey Owl appeared, resting on Ron's arm, and waiting patiently while he tied the letter to the owl's foot.

"Take this to Harry," Ron whispered, giving the owl an affectionate rub, before holding out his arm and watching as the owl took flight, soaring high above the garden before disappearing into the distance.

"Ready to go?" Ron asked, offering his arm to her with a charming grin.

"Yes," Hermione answered, returning his smile and standing up to take his arm. "Do you think he'll come?" she asked as they began to head towards the woods at the edge of the grounds.

"Maybe," Ron answered, then shrugged slightly. "Bit stupid to think that when, in four years, he's never answered a single letter, isn't it?"

"Not stupid," Hermione said gently as she led him away.

Ron shrugged, but followed her wordlessly.