A/N : Sorry this chapter took so long to get out! Writer's block is a pain. I have this idea of where to go from here, so the next chapter should be out within the next week or so. On with the story!
The next few weeks were almost normal for Hermione and Ron. Hermione pondered this as she sat at the kitchen table, eating breakfast. It's almost as if we are pretending that the events of the last Ball never happened. She sighed into her cup of tea, discouraged. Why is that? Shouldn't we be GLAD that that topic is now out in the open? Her musings were interrupted by the sound of owls flying in through the open window. Oh goodie, the mail's here, she thought sarcastically to herself. Ever since the Ball, she had been swamped with letters from "concerned admirers" about Ron and her friendship. Most of them were just letters pleading for her to take him back as a friend, though occasionally there was the liberal witch who staunchly sided with Hermione, and those letters were filled with praise for Hermione's rant at Ron. That pile of letters usually went into the fireplace to be burned – after adding the person's name to a list of generic responses she had come up with. The second pile of letters were the usual fan mail – which had their own generic response letters to be sent out, unless Hermione wanted to write personally. The third pile was Ron's fan messages, which had it's own generic responses. The fourth pile went directly into the fireplace to be burned before Ron could see them – that pile was the "You are scum for whatever you did to Hermione at the Ball" pile. Finally, there were two small piles – these were letters from friends to Ron and/or Hermione. Hermione smiled to herself as she separated the mail. Thank goodness Ron is a late riser. At least that gives me time to separate the mail before he comes down every morning. This had become part of Hermione's routine ever since they had moved into this flat – separating the mail. Although she could have done it with a simple sorting spell, Hermione chose to do it by hand most of the time. There's just something soothing about sorting the mail… Before she realized it, she was done. Just in time, too, for Ron should be getting up right about now…
'Thump! Thump! Thump!' Those thumps proved her right; Ron was heading down the stairs. She turned back to her now cold tea. With a sigh, she emptied the cup over the sink, then set the kettle on to make some more hot water. Thank goodness neither one of us drinks coffee. Although Ron disliked her Irish Breakfast tea, he still loved to have hot chocolate in the mornings as the weather began to turn cold.
She had just sat on the counter, waiting for the kettle to whistle when Ron entered the room. He was rubbing his eyes and his red hair was messy – apparently he hadn't bothered to do anything hygienic before getting something to drink. He plopped into his usual chair – the one that Hermione had placed his mail in front of. "Hot water ready?" he asked.
"Top of the morning to you too, Ron." Hermione's blithe quip rang out in the small room. She stood again as the kettle's shriek filled the kitchen, bouncing off the tiles. She quickly turned off the heat on the stove, and poured two cups of hot water. She placed one in front of Ron with a hot chocolate packet and chocolate syrup. She smiled to herself. Even though I've warned him time and again that he's going to rot out his teeth, he STILL adds all that chocolate syrup to his hot chocolate to make it "more chocolate-y." She then gathered up her own cup of hot water and tea bag and returned to her seat next to Ron.
"Thanks." Ron said. Obviously, the hot chocolate had woken him up some, because he turned to his own mail, and began to open it. They entered into what had become yet another tradition with the two of them. First they would open the fan mail – occasionally laughing at what a fan had written, or asking the other whether they should attend this seminar or that society event. Once they were both done with the fan mail, Hermione would gather up the lists of people to send generic replies to, invitations to accept, invitations to decline and letters that each would reply to personally, and set them on the kitchen counter. Then came Hermione favorite part – opening the letters from friends. It's like Christmas, when you're waiting to open your gifts, probably because I KNOW these people love me and what they write is meaningful. This time period was often had more conversation in it, as Ron shared information with her about the rest of the Weasley brood, or as Hermione rattled off the latest fling affair Lavender or Parvati was having with a famous wizard. It's when we bring up happy memories from our Hogwarts days…
However, today was not to be such a day. As Hermione turned to her stack of personal letters, an owl came swooping into the kitchen. Hermione looked up, irritated. I knew I should have closed the windows. Who knows who this owl is from… However, all irritated thoughts flew out of her head when she looked at the letter. It was from Draco.
Wonder what he has to say? They hadn't met since the night of the Ball. Hermione was too busy doing Auror work to visit him, and he was too busy doing whatever it is that he does to visit her. She sent the owl away, telling it that she would write back later and send the reply by her own owl. No sooner had she told the owl this than she was ripping open the envelope. As her eyes quickly skimmed the note, Ron glanced up at her.
"What could be so important to you, 'Mione? Is it from the lover you've been hiding from me for all there years?" He teased gently.
"No, silly, I would think you'd know Jon's handwriting by now." Hermione's brown eyes raised to meet Ron's blue ones for a second before dropping back to the letter.
"Then who is it, pray tell?" His voice was a smidge too curious for Hermione. However, before she could respond, he had grabbed the letter out of her hand. His expression changed as he read the letter. "MALFOY! You're getting letters from MALFOY?" He looked up at her, but this time his eyes held none of the teasing glint that had been in them earlier. No, this glare held only hatred and fury. "Didn't I tell you to stay away from him, 'Mione?!?!"
With those ten words, Ron broke the uneasy truce that had settled into the flat over the last few weeks. She stood up, enraged. What right does he have to TELL me what to do? Her thought spilled over into her words. "Really, Ron? Did you tell me to stay away from Draco? Did I miss some imperial command while I was away at work? If so, please enlighten me. As I understand it, this is the 21st century, and I have no keeper but myself. I haven't had one since I came of age in the wizarding world, and probably for some time before that. When did I sign a paper saying Ronald Weasley was now and forever my keeper?" If he tries to pull that male chauvinistic attitude with me today, I'm leaving.
"Hermione! I never said you should be watched twenty-four hours a day. Just that you should KNOW better than to trust Malfoy!"
Hermione leapt to her feet, slamming her hand on the table for extra emphasis. "Grow up Ron! When are you going to get it through your head that I can talk to whomever I want, and there's nothing you can do to stop me?" He is such an arse. How can he be saying this to me? ME of all people!
"I can't do ANYTHING to stop you, huh?" By this time, Ron was on his feet as well, glaring at her. And looking dead sexy at the same time… Stop it Hermione! Suddenly, he raised his wand and said, "Compescor Hermione, Ianitor Ronald!"
Hermione's eyes widened. He didn't just do that, did he? The Compescor Ianitor spell is very hard to master. I wonder why Ron learned it?
Ron turned to smirk at her. "Try to leave now, 'Mione." With that, he walked out of the room.
Hermione sank to the ground. Think, Hermione! What do you know about the Compescor Ianitor spell? It took a few minutes, but her brain finally began to rummage around for information about it. Well, the spell binds the person named after Compescor to stay in whatever habitat they are in. They are bound by their "gatekeeper," which in my case is Ron. So, I cannot leave this house without Ron's permission… Hermione was so engrossed in thought that she didn't hear Ron come back down the stairs and head out the door to work. She continued to sit there, trying to figure out what she was missing. Then suddenly, it came to her. Of course! The Compescor Ianitor spell only works for time periods AFTER THE SPELL HAS BEEN CAST! Hermione jumped to her feet, overjoyed. Ron doesn't realize I still have a time-turner. I can go back to yesterday and… and what? She sank back to the floor.
Ron's voice came to her first, mocking her even now: "She's an absolute nightmare." Not that he said mean things about her only when they were younger… more recently there was, "Why would I be upset?" That was a question she couldn't answer.
Yet Draco's words as they had stood upon the terrace at the Ball haunted her even more; "…he's still living life. You aren't. Why aren't you experiencing life, Hermione?"
Suddenly the pieces all fell into place. She stood quickly, and went to her room, summoning her trunk as she went. She packed everything she could – as many memories of her and Harry – of her entire life – as well as the necessities; clothes, books, jewelry… Once she was done, she made one final round of the place she had called home for five years. Sighing, she picked up her time-turner and flipped it back to about four a.m. that same day. She had been asleep still, so she wouldn't run into herself. As she arrived in that time, she walked out the door of her flat, and down the street.
She smiled to herself as she walked down the street. All Ron would find when he came home that night would be a note left on her pillow, which read:
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears?
~Hermione~
A/N: Wow! For those of you who are wondering… The names I used in the song for the last chapter (Kai Tain, Tare Tani and Nerea Tani) actually mean something. What they mean will come out in future chapters, I promise! Also, the spell I created in this chapter is actually made up of Latin words.
Anyone who can tell me what poem I quoted for Hermione's good-bye note to Ron gets a cameo in the story!
Thanks again to my beta reader, teethshaver smile
As always, please review. In fact, if you DON'T want to review, go read"Reviews*" by SilverPhoenixWings. After you read (and review) it, come back here and review mine also. grin Remember, reviews are what make the world go round!