Chapter 1: One Surprise After Another

"Ron Weasley!" Hermione Granger exclaimed, hardly daring to believe her eyes. She blinked twice, then looked back down at the list of names she held in her hands. There it was, plain and simple. Ron Weasley. Her best friend back when she was a student at Hogwarts.

Hermione shook her head slowly. It wasn't like she was upset, more like shocked. The two of them had parted on good terms, but that was 9 years ago. She was now 26, and hadn't heard from Ron or her other best friend, Harry, since she had last seen them walking away to their new lives as Aurors while she walked in the opposite direction toward her chosen career, a Healer. As the thought of Harry jumped to her mind, her eyes scanned down the list and, not to her surprise, found the name "Harry Potter" right underneath Ron's.

Feeling a little faint at this news, Hermione sat down on a nearby chair and tried to clear her mind. It's been 9 years, they probably won't even recognize you, she thought in an attempt to reassure herself. You have nothing to worry about.

However, her thoughts didn't entirely convince her. Sure, she had changed both physically and mentally, but they had been so close back at Hogwarts that she would be insulted if they didn't recognize her. Now, she began to wonder whether or not they would look the same. Would Ron still have the same mop of shocking red hair and freckles? Would Harry still wear the same round-rimmed glasses, held together by miles of tape?

Just then, a knock at the door interrupted her. "Come in," she called out, snapping out of her reverie.

The door swung open and in walked a tall man, so tall that he had to stoop as he moved through the doorway, with bright red hair. As he entered the room, he straightened up and smiled at Hermione. A split second later, his smile quickly dropped and his jaw fell open.

"Hermione!" he exclaimed, stepping back.

Hermione froze. Oh no, it can't be him. I didn't expect him so soon.

"R-R-Ron," she stuttered, at a loss of words.

He hardly looked like Ron. His hair was a few shades darker, and it was sticking out in clumps. His freckles seemed to have magically disappeared, and he was about a foot taller. His voice was much more manly, as was his build. The only physical traits that seemed to have carried over from his childhood were his bright blue eyes. At the moment, they were staring at her in disbelief.

"You're my Healer?" he finally asked.

Hermione nodded silently.

"Merlin..." he said, more to himself than to Hermione. "I can't believe it."

"I can't either," she remarked dryly.

"I never would have expected," he continued, apparently unaware that Hermione had said anything, "when I came here that I would get YOU as a Healer."

"Well apparently you did, so sit down," Hermione replied, gesturing at the clean hospital bed at the other end of the room. She couldn't think of any other way to handle the situation than to turn to business. "Are you here for a checkup or--"

Ron chuckled and interrupted her mid-sentence by saying, "Hermione, calm down. You can take a break from your job to at least reminisce a bit with an old friend." He sat down and patted the spot next to him. "Sit down."

Hermione bit her lip. "Ron, I have other patients I have to--"

He rolled his eyes. "You're going to put other patients before me? Come on, I haven't seen you in years. Don't I at least deserve a little friendly attention?"

Giving in, Hermione grudgingly walked over to his side of the room and sat down gingerly next to him on the bed. The first thing she noticed was that he smelled like catnip. Without thinking, she burst out laughing.

"What?" he asked, surprised.

"You...you have a...you have a cat, don't you?" she asked through her giggles.

The tips of his ears turned bright red, signaling his embarrassment. "Well, I figured after Scabbers turned out to be You-Know-Who's servant, cats weren't so bad after all."

"So that means...?" Hermione prompted.

"No, it does NOT mean that I'm fine with Crookshanks. That ball of fur is still a menace. Speaking of, how is he?"

"He's...dead," Hermione said quietly.

Ron's eyebrows shot up, and he quickly said, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like that. I had no idea..."

She sighed and replied, "It's okay. He died 2 years ago, so I've grown to accept it now. Anyway, he had his share of fun while he was alive."

"Yeah," Ron said, seeming deep in thought. "Remember Sirius and how Crookshanks knew he was the good one?"

Hermione nodded. "And how he knew Scabbers was not to be trusted."

"Now that I think about it, I was an idiot for not believing you back then."

Hermione smiled weakly. She couldn't think of anything to say in response, so she nervously clasped her hands and hoped that he would strike up the conversation again. However, he seemed comfortable with sitting next to her in silence, so she was left to awkwardly start twisting a strand of hair around her finger.

"So, um, you're in for a checkup right?" she at last asked.

"Yep."

"Okay, I'll just have you drink these--" she walked over to the table where she filled in three small cups with different coloured liquids, then brought them back to Ron "--then I'll give you an eye exam, and you should be fine after that."

He shrugged, and drank the potions she gave him obediently. His facial features twisted into a grimace as he downed the last one, a bright green liquid which was supposed to keep him immune from any sicknesses he might get from living in poor conditions, but made no comment. He also passed the eye exam with flying colours, and was soon proclaimed good to go.

Though Hermione had told him that he could leave, Ron lingered in the room. She was unaware of his continuing presence as she cleaned up after him, but when she had rinsed out the last cup and placed it neatly on top of the others, he coughed to signal that he was still in the room.

Turning around in surprise, Hermione raised an eyebrow when she saw that he was still standing by the door. His hands were in the pockets of his robes, and for the first time since he walked into the room, he looked uncomfortable.

"Yes?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"Erm...Hermione...I was wondering...well, I have Sunday free, my group leader is practicing with the Aurors who have had less training than me - see, I'm the best Auror he has, so I always get free days, plus I--"

"Ron, is there anything you wanted to say?" Hermione asked, interrupting his rambling.

He coughed, and hurriedly said, "Right, well, I was wondering if you wanted to come have dinner with me Sunday evening. To, y'know, catch up on old times."

"I don't know...I have a lot of work I have to do here," Hermione said uneasily.

His face fell. "Come on, Hermione, just one night?"

Unable to resist his pleading, she felt her resolution to not go crumble. After all, one night couldn't hurt. "Okay," she said with a small smile. "I'll go. What time?"

Ron grinned. "I'll come here and pick you up."

"Can't I just apparate there?" Hermione asked, confused.

"No, I have something else planned." With that, he politely nodded his farewell, and left the room.

Hermione leaned against the counter for support. Now that she was alone again, a stunning realization hit her -- Ron was going to war. If he was the best Auror of his group, then there was no way his leader wouldn't order him to go into combat.

If Ron goes, she suddenly realized, then Harry is for sure going to go too.

At that moment, the door to the room opened once again. For the second time that day, a voice exclaimed in surprise, "Hermione!"

Smiling wearily, Hermione turned around, causing her eyes to meet with familiar bright green ones. "Hello, Harry."