Chapter Three

Waking early, Hermione opened her eyes and looked around the room. As she sat in the comfortable chair near the bookcase, she stretched and tried to remember how she had ended up there. As the previous day came back to her, she noticed some things were missing.

"Oh, no, Dobby must have put away the packages for me! I really must tell him--" Hermione broke off as she heard a loud crack.

Bowing, Dobby said, "Good morning, Miss Hermione. Dobby has brought you breakfast."

"Oh… well, thank you, Dobby," said Hermione, graciously accepting the tray he carried. "How… thoughtful of you."

"Dobby is pleased to bring Miss Hermione breakfast on her last day before she begins work with Professor Snape." He shuddered, obviously glad he was not in her place. And with that, he Disapparated, leaving Hermione alone in her quarters. She ate a few bites, and then made her way to the bathroom for a shower.

It was still just as difficult as the day before to navigate through the dungeons of Hogwarts. Hermione was having doubts that she would ever learn her way around, when she stumbled past a staircase that was seemingly hidden in the wall. Following it up, she found herself in the broad entrance hall, the great doors leading outside to the sunshine. She opened them just wide enough to allow herself to slip out.

The sun shone brightly as she headed down the sloping lawn towards the lake. Finding a tree to settle her back against, Hermione sat down and closed her eyes. An unbidden memory came to her mind. She sighed.

The beginning of seventh year.

Pressures of NEWTs were looming, as were dangers from outside their unbreakably safe school world, namely Voldemort and his quickly rising supporters. Harry was at a private meeting with Professor Dumbledore, and Hermione and Ron were roaming the grounds, contemplating the changes that had been wrought on everyone's lives. So many people had been killed already, and the thought of more inevitable deaths was depressing. They walked, waving to Hagrid as they passed, to the lake, and sat down beneath a tree.

"Hermione…" Ron said, staring firmly at his feet.

"Yes?" she replied, and he lifted his gaze. Hermione looked straight into his eyes and that's when it happened. He brushed a hand along her cheek and then pulled her in closer, kissing her slowly and releasing her.

"Hermione… will you—I mean, do you want… Do you want to be my… you know… my girlfriend?" The moment the words were out of his mouth, he dropped his gaze back down towards the ground.

"Yes."

Hermione's reverie was broken as a single tear slid down her cheek. It was a tear of happiness, remembering that particular moment in her life. Everything had seemed… better, easier… after that. It was almost less difficult to deal with the horrors of war. The two of them were still there for Harry every step of the way, and were also stronger people for their relationship with him and each other. Hermione did not know what she would do without Ron in her life, and didn't want to find out.

Ron and Hermione would be getting married on the anniversary of that day when he had first asked her out. It was just two months away.

He had finally proposed a year ago, knowing that the Final Battle was over and Voldemort was gone for real; Ron had started work as an Auror, and had helped to catch all the remaining Death Eaters after five long years. People were able to move on with their lives, and Ron had decided that the aftermath of war was finished and it would be safe to propose to the love of his life now that the chance of one or both of them dying had been extinguished. His sister was already happily married to his best friend, with plans for children. Ron wanted that for himself and Hermione.

Wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, Hermione realised that it was nearing afternoon, and she needed to get back to prepare for the start of work with Snape the next day.

She picked herself up from the ground and dusted off her robes as she began the trek up to the castle. Reaching the doors, she cautiously slipped inside, hoping not to run into Filch or his cat. She still had an unnatural fear of that pair that lingered from her school days.

Looking around, Hermione tried to find the stairway down to the dungeons that she had come up earlier that morning. It was odd that she hadn't ever seen it before, but things were often that way in Hogwarts. She doubted that even Dumbledore knew everything there was to know about the school.

After searching for several minutes without any luck, Hermione gave a cry of exasperation and decided to take the long way to the dungeons. Thoroughly frustrated about the stairway, she was paying no attention to her surroundings, and, for the second time in two days, ran smack into one of her old professors.

"Oh, Professor Snape… I'm sorry; I suppose I didn't see you there."

"Evidently," he drawled. "You are aware that tomorrow is the start of work?"

"Yes, sir. I'm well aware," she said, slightly offended.

"Be sure that you are not late. I do not have the time or patience to devote my entire day to you."

"Of course not, Professor Snape. I would never assume that. I will see you tomorrow, then, sir."

"Yes—Professor Granger…" he said, smirking as he stalked away from her.

Hermione sighed, heading off in the opposite direction. The real work, she thought, will be learning how to spend long hours of time in the company of this man without going mad.

Arriving after a long walk at the door of her quarters, Hermione pulled out her wand to unlock the wards. She entered her room to find an owl sitting on the chair by the bookshelf. It had a letter tied to its leg.

"Oh, hello, do you have a letter for me?" Hermione said, reaching down to get the letter and absently stroking the owl as she did. "How did you get in here?" she wondered aloud. "Possibly Dobby? He seems to have made it his mission to care for me…"

She opened the letter, breaking the seal.

Hermione,

I was thinking I could come to dinner at Hogwarts with you tonight. We could have a nice meal in your quarters and I could see where you will be living until we are married. Let me know as soon as possible, love.

Yours,

Ron

"Oh… Well, I suppose so. But what does he mean 'until we are married?'" said Hermione to the owl. It looked at her with one brown eye and then fluttered his feathers. "I'm sorry, you want to leave. Let me just write a reply."

She quickly got out a quill and parchment, and scribbled off a note to Ron telling him she would meet him in the entrance hall that night. "Erm… Dobby?" she said, questioning herself even as she spoke.

Crack!

"Yes, Miss Hermione?"

"Wow, that was fast, Dobby. I was wondering if you could send this owl back to Ron for me?"

"Certainly Dobby can, Miss Hermione." He smiled broadly, picked the owl up off the chair, and grabbed the letter from her hand.

"Thank you," she called, though he had already Disapparated.

"Hermione, there you are! I wondered if you forgot I was coming," said Ron after Hermione finally appeared in the entrance hall. It was ten minutes past the time she said she would arrive.

"Oh, of course not, Ron. I just got a little lost coming up here. I never spent much time down in the dungeons while we were at school, so I sometimes lose track of where I am. I'm getting better, though, I think. Let's go back down to my rooms."

Hermione turned to go back the way she came as Ron caught up to her and took hold of her hand. "That is, if you can find the way," he teased, smiling. She grinned back, feeling happy to be with him. This is how it should have gone yesterday, she thought. This is how it usually is with him…

"So, Dobby the house-elf, you know the one who's obsessed with Harry, is bringing a nice dinner for us. He seems to have made it his mission to watch over me, as if I wanted to promote slavery. Though I suppose he i is /i free, and can do what he wants…"

Ron simply nodded along with what Hermione saying, to busy to really add to the conversation. He was thinking of how best to bring up a subject that his wife-to-be hated to talk about: children and working mothers. But he felt he was completely right, and so couldn't let an opportunity to convince her, such as being alone in her quarters, get away.

They entered the front room to see a table, which hadn't been there when Hermione left the room, laid out with an array of delicious foods, and Dobby just finishing pouring wine into the glasses. "Oh, thank you, Dobby, but you really didn't have—"

"Dobby is happy to, Miss Hermione!" he said gleefully before disappearing once again. Hermione looked at the beautiful table and decided that perhaps there were some things might require Dobby's help. She sighed as Ron stepped in front of her to pull out her chair.

"Thanks, Ron."

Ron simply nodded and moved around to the other side of the table to seat himself. "The food looks really great."

They began to eat and quickly finished. As soon as Hermione took her last bite, the table and everything on it vanished, with the armchair and bookcases reappearing in their places. A large couch also emerged from nowhere, and Hermione and Ron moved to sit on it.Thanks, Dobby… Hermione thought to herself.

"Dinner was great; Dobby really has a romantic eye."

Laughing, Hermione replied, "Yes, I suppose he just wanted everything to be perfect."

"It was," Ron said as he reached over to put a hand on her knee. "Listen, Hermione, do you remember what we were talking about yesterday?"

"Oh, please don't start this again, Ronald." She looked away from him before starting to change the subject. "You know, this morning I was sitting out under the tree where you first asked me out, remember, almost seven years ago?"

"Yes, yes, of course I remember. How could I forget?" He attempted a charming smile, though it came out more as a grimace. "But I want to talk about something more important."

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed deeply. "All right, Ron, but if one of us loses our temper and this conversation doesn't end well, it will be completely your fault." She gave him an agitated look, and then gestured sarcastically for him to begin.

"My mother, you know, never worked outside the home a day in her life. She married my father straight out of Hogwarts and right away began having children. She raised seven of us—seven—and did an amazing job because all she did was cook and clean and care for us." Ron chose to ignore the increasingly angry look on Hermione's face and continued, "That's what I want, too. A big, healthy, happy family and I want to get started on it as soon as possible. But it doesn't seem likely that a woman could take care of that many children, or even any children, and still work and have a career. You've had your jobs and done well for seven years, but now its time for you to settle down and start a family… with me."

"But I don't want to, Ron. I don't want to have kids right away, and even if I did I would find some way to make it work having a job and a child. Other families do it all the time, and I don't want to give up this job. It's well deserved, sure, but it's an honor and I gave Dumbledore my word. I'm not quitting to give up my life to raising children."

"We have to start soon if we are going to have a big family," Ron said as he continued to push his point.

"Maybe I don't want that, Ron! Did you ever stop and think that this is not always going to be about you? Marriage takes work and compromise and I know we'll be great at it… but we have to make agreements now before we get in too far. Agreements on how to deal with problems that come up, and ways to resolve conflicts. And I'm still willing to have kids some day, but after I've gotten settled in this job, or at least done whatever Dumbledore needs me to do for Snape."

"Oh, please! You've seen McGonagall! She's not married, has no kids… Her whole life is devoted to teaching, not a family. You are going to end up like that. Bloody hell, Hermione, that can't be what you want!"

"No, of course it isn't," said Hermione, thoroughly frustrated. "But McGonagall was never engaged to a man she thought would love her forever and support her in whatever she did. Or to a man who had some problem with letting her make her own decisions!"

"What are you saying? That I'm controlling you?" Ron's ears were bright red and he looked ready to explode. He jumped to his feet, staring her in the eye.

Standing up to match him, Hermione looked equally angry, but her voice was frighteningly calm. "You order my food in pubs, Ron! I can't help thinking that that's just a start to what else you might try and control in my life. And then you expect me to leave work and have twelve dozen kids just because you want me to! That's not how it works, Ron, not at all!" A single tear escaped from her eyes, running quickly down her cheek. She brushed it away impatiently.

"Fine, Hermione." Ron's voice was cold. "You just have it your way, then. You are being just as stubborn as I am. I'm leaving, and you can just take a couple of days to think this over, to make sure you aren't rushing into some decision you don't want to make. I won't push you. Make your own damn decision, and if you don't want to marry me, it's just fine," He spat out, and sped over to the door, yanking it open as he left.

Anger and shock caused Hermione's legs to give out. She crumpled to the floor, the tears spilling out fast. She leaned her back against the back of the couch and pulled her knees up to her chest. Resting her weight against the couch, she bent her neck back and laid her head on a cushion.

"How did this happen?" she wondered aloud, attempting to make the position of her head more comfortable. Then she decided she didn't deserve comfort.

And Dobby, after having watched Ron leave Hogwarts with a murderous look on his face, chose that moment to snap his fingers and make the couch disappear and return to the Teacher's Lounge he had borrowed it from.

Hermione fell flat onto her back, the support of the couch gone. She couldn't bring herself to move, let alone make herself go to bed. Eventually, she dropped off to sleep lying on the floor, cold, tired, and alone.