AN - Quick note to you all before you start in on chapter seven... one of the reviewers, Loonie Potter, brought a critial error to my attention! Ron couldn't have confessed his love to Hermione on Valentine's sixth year, because it was April and February had already passed! Whoops! Thanks for letting me know, Loonie, you're quite the detective! ;-) But don't worry, everyone, I repaired the goof-up. The timeline has been restored! LOL. Anyhoo, on with chapter seven!
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A Draught in Time:
Chapter 7
-dutchtulips-
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Friday afternoon passed by quickly. Hermione had returned to work at the bookstore, leaving Ron alone in the house for the majority of the day. Still feeling uneasy and restless by the prospect that he might indeed be stuck here, he spent most of it sleeping, or reading the entire year of Quidditch Weeklys he'd found in the upstairs study. He grinned as he read the articles about how well the Chudley Cannons were doing this season - it looked as if they had finally achieved a spectacular year, and were on the verge of possibly winning their first Quidditch national cup in decades.
Well, if I ever do get back to the past, it'll be great knowing there's something in Quidditch to look forward to, he thought, chuckling, as he tossed the most recent issue aside. He shifted in his chair, and simultaneously stole a glance out the window. Dusk had fallen several hours ago, and it was barely light out now. Ron's brow furrowed at this, wondering now when Hermione would be home. She'd gotten home from the shop at a different time every week, but so far, this was the latest.
He got up then and left the room, and went downstairs into the kitchen. "She's probably going to be tired after being at the store all day," Ron thought aloud, staring at the cabinets, wondering where to start. "I guess I should try and start supper for her."
"No, don't do that!"
Ron jumped and turned around, clutching his heart. Hermione was there, stepping out of the fireplace, wearing a cheerful expression.
"Bloody hell, you scared me, woman!" He exclaimed, bemused. "Want to give me a warning next time?"
Her grin widened. "How 'bout this... 'Hi, honey, I'm home!' " She laughed, kissing him hello.
Ron eagerly returned the kiss, and chuckled as well, inspite of himself. "Anyway, you look happy... something good happen at the store today?"
"Well, not at the store exactly," Hermione explained. She pulled her bag off her shoulder and started out of the room, Ron right behind her. "I had just closed up for the night and was about ready to head up to the Three Broomsticks to Floo home, but then, right when I passed Fred and George's shop, all the lights popped on! It startled me for a moment, but then, of course, they appeared in the doorway not two seconds later, shouting my name." The two of them walked into the den, and Hermione set her bag down on the desk.
Ron perked up at the news. "Fred and George are back from their trip?"
She nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! So I stopped to talk with them for a little while, and they asked me if we'd like for them to take us and Harry and Ginny out for a big dinner at the Three Broomsticks tonight. Would you like to? It would be wonderful to spend the night out!"
"Sure, of course!" Ron accepted, smirking. "I'd love to see my annoying brothers."
"Oh, great!" Hermione replied. "I knew you'd want to. They asked us to meet them there around eight, does that work for you?"
"Why not?" he said. "It's not as if I'm exactly swamped tonight."
"And thank goodness for that, I've loved having you around the house this week." Hermione moved forward suddenly, over to Ron, where he was leaning against the back of the armchair. She put her arms around him, saying, "I'm going to hate it when you go back to work next Monday."
"Me too," he agreed, drawing her closer. "I really love... being home when you come home, being here with you. I really love... you, Hermione."
She tightened her grasp around him, laying her head against his chest, embracing him. "Oh, I love you, too, Ron. So much! So much that I..." Pause. "Well, I've been wanting to tell you -"
"Hey, Hermione?"
She jumped in Ron's arms, hearing the new voice calling her name. Ron, too, was startled, before he recognized the voice.
"Is that Ginny?" He asked. "Where is she?"
"Oh, I'll bet she's in the kitchen fire. Fred and George probably just reached her with this evening's dinner plans." Hermione let go of Ron, looking reluctant, somewhat. "It's almost eight now. I'm going to go talk to Ginny for a few minutes. Will you be ready to leave when we're finished?"
He nodded. "Okay, sure. I'll be here when you get back."
Hermione hurried off then, to answer her sister-in-law in the fire, leaving Ron alone in the den. He watched her disappear into the hallway, and then walked around to the front of the armchair to sit down in it.
Ron felt drained of something, but he wasn't sure what. As if something that had been inside of him only moments before was suddenly gone. He slumped against the chair.
I just told her I love her. The other me probably has said it a thousand times, but that was the first time this me has ever told her that. Told her that I really do love her. For a moment Ron felt frustrated with himself. Why couldn't I do that before? When I was still back there, at school? It was so easy now, to say it, and it never was then. Why wasn't it?
But then he realized the answer. Because I was so afraid she'd reject me. She was always so serious then, she never seemed like she much cared to be especially close with anyone, any closer than just friends. But all these years later, we're married. And Harry said that I did tell her back then. If Hermione and I are where we are now because of where we were then - she named her bookstore what she did because of me! - then she didn't reject me. She must've loved me, too. All that time, she loved me, too...
Ron let out a long, low breath. "Wow," he said softly, leaning back heavily in the chair. He sat there for several minutes, in stunned silence. "And it took all of this... just to figure that out. It's all simple, it was staring me in the face the whole time. No wonder back then she was so short-tempered with me..."
His thoughts were so awhirl, he wasn't even aware of anything else around him until he felt someone touch his shoulder. Looking up, he smiled. "Hermione."
"You ready to go?"
"Of course," he replied, getting to his feet, stretching his legs. Grinning, he extended his arm to her, which she took, beaming back.
As they walked out of the room together, side-by-side, a thought suddenly seized Ron. He glanced at her. "Hey... what was it you wanted to tell me, before you went to talk to Gin?"
"Oh... oh.." She paused for a long moment. "It was... nothing."
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"Ron! Harry! Jolly good to see you two again!"
Fred and George seemed to jump out of nowhere, meeting the four of them inside the front entrance of the Three Broomsticks. Ron grinned when he saw them; they still looked the same as ever - still the same Weasley hair, the same goofy smiles plastered on their faces. "We've got the corner table reserved," George said. "Wanna sit?"
The six of them strode over to the table, and as they took their seats, Ginny said, "What, and it's not jolly good to see Hermione and me?"
"The ball-and-chain speaks!" Fred joked, as Harry helped lower his wife into her chair. Referring to her pregnancy, "Isn't it time to explode yet?"
"Oh, ha ha ha," Ginny said sarcastically, looking amused nevertheless. "If men were the ones who could get pregnant, I very much doubt you'd be making such jokes."
"If men were the ones who could get pregnant, this would be one scary world indeed," Fred quipped, and a round of laughter encircled the table.
"What're we having for supper, anyway?" Ginny asked, relaxing in her chair. "Did you two prats order anything yet?"
"We asked Rosmerta to put on a rack of lamb," Fred replied. "It's a special occasion tonight, we're going to watch our sister expand like a puffapod."
"Now, come on," Harry said, still smirking, "This is my wife you're picking on, so you'll have to answer to me. And I vanquished Voldemort, so you know what you're up against."
Everyone else chuckled, but something about those words struck Ron, and he sat back in astonishment. Of course... I completely forgot about the war, about him, and... wow... "Oh, wow..."
Someone was elbowing him in the ribs. "Ron!"
He blinked and suddenly looked up, seeing that it had been Hermione who was trying to get his attention. "What? I'm sorry," he said hastily. "Lost my train of thought."
George smirked from across the table. "That's our Ickle Ronniekins all right. Always slow on the uptake!"
Ron rolled his eyes amusedly. "Nice to know some things never change."
"Anyway..." Ginny interceded, forever the mediator between her brothers. "How was Canada, you two? Any serious competition to be worrying about?"
George shook his head. "Oh, we're not worried about competition, not when we're on two separate continents, for Merlin's sake. We just went over to see if they had any ideas worth stealing."
"Now, correct me if I'm wrong," Hermione jumped in, her eyes smiling, "but isn't that what competition is?"
"No," Fred disagreed. "We're just... thieves!"
Everyone burst out in laughter again. "Oh, and we all know that's even better," Harry replied. "Getting rusty in your old age? Creative stick finally come up dry?"
"Hey, we resent that," George said. "We swapped prototypes, as a matter of fact. We gave the guys over there some of our ingenious, amazing product ideas, and they gave us some of their weak ones to improve on."
"Not at all modest, are you?" Ginny smirked.
"Hey, you're more like us than you think," Fred remarked. "All of us kids in the family inherited the infamous Weasley wit. Even Ron over there didn't miss the bar."
Ron gave his brother a droll look. "Oh yeah? I was full of more sarcasm than any of you. Hermione can vouch for that, can't you?" He turned to her, grinning.
"Oh, you bet I can. This man's got one-liners coming out his ears. Sometimes I can't even keep up with him," she said to the twins.
"Well, keep up with this," George said, leaning forward. "Our mates in Canada gave us some masterful insight on one of our latest inventions. This brilliant exploding bubblegum! You can blow the bubbles as big as your head and they'll explode like dynamite, complete with smoke! A little something we felt was missing from Drooble's..." He smirked.
"Promise me one thing, you two," Ginny cut in, "that you'll wait a couple of years after the baby's born to give it the official initiation into the wondrous world of pranks."
"Hey, the kid's part Weasley, too, it's only fair we get to him right away!" Fred protested.
"I don't want him to be blown up, transfigured, or grossed out before he's a year old!" She shot back. "We all know the family history with that one."
"All too well," Ron put in, cringing at the thought of his teddy bear-turned-spider.
"Speaking of which," George said, "I know the battle-axes," - Hermione and Ginny shot scornful looks in his direction - "won't want to be revolted, but how 'bout you guys drop by the shop, Harry, Ron, tomorrow afternoon? Check out the newest stuff we brought back from Toronto."
The two friends glanced at each other, smiling, and turned back to the twins. "Sure, why not?" Harry replied, with a nod from Ron. "Sounds like fun."
"Hope you kids are hungry!" A new voice suddenly broke into the conversation, cheery and warm. As Ron turned around, he saw the voice belonged to Madame Rosmerta, who was ambling over to their table and carrying steaming platters of roast lamb. "Chow time!"
The six of them sat up as the barmaid passed the plates around the table, eager to sup on the delicious spread. Ron's plate came to him, and he leaned forward to start, but not before stealing another glance around the table, at all of his family. It was one of the better evenings he'd ever had out, and the very thought made him smile whimsically.
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It was late, several hours after the evening dinner with Fred, George, Harry, and Ginny had ended, and Ron was laying on the four-poster bed, atop the turned-down covers, watching Hermione ready herself for bed. She stood in front of the mirror, already changed into a pale purple nightgown, brushing her nutmeg hair.
"Some night out tonight, huh?" She said to him, still looking chipper. "I'm definitely convinced now that your brothers are absolutely never going to change."
Ron sat up against the pillows, and laughed. "I basically had that figured out by the time I was nine. Fred and George are definitely inimitable, that's for sure."
She giggled. "I can only imagine how crazy it probably was living with them all those years. But it was probably never boring."
He shook his head. "Never."
Hermione replaced the hairbrush atop the dresser, and crossed the room around to her side of the bed, flicking off the lights as she did so. Ron felt his heartbeat quicken as she slid underneath the blankets next to him, much like it had done every night that week. Nevertheless, he wrapped an arm around her as she nestled against his side.
For several long minutes it was silent, as Ron stared up at the four-poster's canopy. So many thoughts were still running through his mind, but he hadn't decided whether or not to just shrug them off and go to sleep. It seemed rather pointless to do anything else, and yet...
"Hermione?" He said, gently.
She was quiet at first, and Ron didn't know if she'd already fallen asleep or not, but a moment later, "Yes?"
"Tell me something."
Hermione shifted in his embrace then, moving slightly so that she could look at him. The glow of the moon washed into the room, providing him with just enough light to see into her eyes. "What?" She asked softly.
"About... about what happened, back at Hogwarts. When you and I first started... dating. When we first told each other that we loved... each other."
He thought she would seemed puzzled, confused by what he was asking, but she didn't. Instead she smiled, and relaxed back in his grasp. "You're such a romantic."
"I try."
She chuckled, warmly. "For as long as I live I'll never forget about those times. My favorite memories of us. When you first told me you loved me, I almost couldn't believe it. I'd been hoping for so long you'd finally tell me. And when I told you that I loved you, too, that first time, you looked so... so happy. Like a kid on Christmas morning."
"It might as well have been."
Hermione laid her head against his shoulder. "I know. It was such an amazing day. I still remember every little detail, don't you? You'd been up in your dormitory, taking a nap, when all of a sudden you just bursted downstairs, down to the common room. I'd been doing homework when you came in. And you were babbling so fast I wasn't even sure what you were saying. And then all of a sudden you just came out with it, 'I love you, Hermione. It's taken me years to finally say it, but I do.' "
Ron fell silent at that, for a moment. Something in her words sounded vaguely familiar, though exactly what it was he couldn't pinpoint. "Some way with words I had, huh?" He said.
"You did, actually!" She defended him. "I loved what you said. I loved you."
Without thinking, Ron reached up and planted a kiss on her forehead. "And I love you, too."
Hermione moved her head, pressing her lips against Ron's. He welcomed it, kissing back fervently, tenderly. She curled her arm around him, slowly, and seemed to go almost limp in his embrace. Ron broke the kiss then, feeling her breathing growing slower, more rhythmic, and knew that she was falling asleep.
"G'night, 'Mione." Ron put his other arm around her, and continued to lay awake for long while after she had drifted off. His thoughts were still awhirl, probably even more so now after his conversation with Hermione. Still feeling alert, Ron was beginning to feel like he had to do something, that a feeling was gnawing at him, and now suddenly it was extremely difficult to ignore.
He edged to the side of the bed then, carefully removing his arms from around Hermione. She rolled over as he did, and Ron sat up and got out of the bed, reaching for his bathrobe and putting it on. With a poignant glance at her, he left the room, and headed swiftly down the stairs, moving pointedly in the direction of the kitchen.
It only took a moment to conjure a fire in the fireplace, and the moment after he'd done so, Ron was already reaching into the mounted vase for a bit of Floo powder. He tossed it quickly into the flames, then leaned over and stuck his head in, saying firmly, "Harry and Ginny's house."
Ron felt his head spinning for several moments, and when the feeling finally stopped, he saw that he was looking into a small, unrecognizable kitchen, illuminated only by the dim glow of a candle, burning in its silver hogscraper.
"Harry?" Ron called out, hoping his friend might still be up.
The redhead heard a noise in the direction of the kitchen table, which sounded like a chair's legs scraping across the floor. Only then, after Ron's eyes readjusted to the darkness, did he realize that Harry had been indeed sitting at the kitchen table, something openon the table in front of him.
Harry blinked and looked around, finally spotting his friend's face in the fireplace. "Ron?"
"Yeah, it's me," he replied. "Lucky you happened to be in the same room. I didn't want to have to sneak around the house."
"I'm kind of glad you showed up," Harry said, walking over to the fire and kneeling over the hearth. "I came down for a midnight snack and found the new issue of Quidditch Weekly sitting on the table, so I sat down to flip through it. I guess I drifted off." He paused. "But what are you doing here? Something couldn't wait until tomorrow?"
"I was having enough trouble trying to get to sleep, anyway." Ron shrugged. "Listen, can I come through just for a minute? I kind of want to talk to you."
"Sure," Harry replied, getting to his feet to move away from the flames.
Ron thrust the rest of his body into the fire, and felt the familiar whirling feeling overtake him as the Floo network transported him. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the spinning had stopped. Ron carefully stepped over the grate, and felt his feet touch the kitchen floor of Harry's house. His friend reached over to take his arm, and helped over to the kitchen table, where they both sat down.
Harry closed his magazine and set it aside, along with the half-empty plate of shepherd's pie which had also been sitting there. Resting his elbows on the table, he asked, "So, what's going on?"
Ron leaned forward. "Well... I guess I've basically come to the conclusion that I'm not going to be getting out of here anytime soon. The weekend's going to end, I'm still going to be here." Pause. "We tried our best, though. Even though we couldn't come through, you know, with all the owls and the trips to all of the stores and things."
Harry opened his mouth, looking as if he were about to protest, but instead only sighed. "Yeah," he said, faintly. "I guess so."
"So, I was kind of wondering, since I'm going to be sticking around for awhile, and since you've got all of those connections..."
Harry looked up, curious. "Yeah?"
"Would you mind trying to find one more thing for me?" Ron inquired. "It's a book."
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To Be Continued...
I put a small throwback on "Muggle" sports here. The Chudley Cannons, forever underdogs, finally having their biggest season in years. I'm a big baseball fan. Do the math. ;-)
