All The Way To Heaven II

Hermione did the only thing that she could think of to get her mind off of Harry—she went to see Molly again. This time, when she flooed in, the older woman was bustling around the kitchen singing to herself. "Oh, Hermione! You gave me quite the start," she said laughing. "What brings you out this way?"

"I just had such a lovely time last night that I wanted to see you again," she lied—well it was only half a lie, she reasoned. The kitchen smelled wonderful and it wasn't long before she felt her stomach grumble.

"You must be starving. I just can't believe how thin you've gotten. Now we can't have you wasting away, can we? Sit down and I'll fix you something," Molly told her happily. Hermione would have sworn that she saw a twinkle in the woman's eyes that hadn't been there before.

"Thank you, but you don't have to," Hermione protested even as her stomach growled at her to shut her mouth.

"Nonsense, dear. I miss cooking for a crowd these days." Over the years, Molly Weasley's cooking had become quite legendary. The surviving members of the Order would find themselves at the Burrow every now and then just for a bite. And then there were the books.

A year or so after the war, Molly had found herself in need of a hobby to keep her mind off of her missing children. It started as a simple little recipe book that she would give out as a gift, but it soon became much more. At Bill's urging, she sent it into a publishing company and now it was considered a kitchen must have for every witch. "Table For Nine" was much more than a cookbook. It included little bits of information about the Weasley family with each recipe. Molly had written two books more on raising children and on how to make wonderful holidays on a budget—things of course that she was an expert of. She was now the Martha Stewart of the wizarding world, except that she was genuine and likable.

The Weasley family no longer wanted for money, that was sure, but not much had changed in how Molly ran her household. She held out a plate of waffles in front of Hermione and offered her syrup. "These look delicious," Hermione said as she took the plate. "Where's Arthur?"

"He and Bill went to Diagon Alley a little while ago. They should be back soon." A smile widened across her plump, motherly face. "It was nice that you and Bill got to see each other again. He always asks about you."

Hermione nearly choked on her waffle. "Oh, yes, it was nice to see him," she murmured. She could feel the blood rise to her face. Had Bill told her about their date? Cutting another large bite, she kept her mouth full in hopes that Molly wouldn't ask her any questions, but it was a failed effort.

"So what are you going to wear Friday?" she asked with a prideful grin.

Hermione about choked to death on her food. "He told you?"

"You didn't think I wouldn't invest in my own sons' company did you?" She set a pair of extendable ears on the table and Hermione groaned. "I'm sorry, dear, I wouldn't have eves dropped, but I just couldn't help it."

"I'm so embarrassed! This is all Shakespearean," she muttered.

"Shakespearean?" Molly asked.

A voice from outside the window answered, "muggle play writer, dear." Arthur Weasley stepped through door with Bill a few feet behind. "Why would you be talking about him?"

"Oh, nothing important, love," she replied briskly.

Bill flashed a smile at Hermione and she felt her heart flutter ever so slightly. "I didn't think I'd see you again this soon," he said.

Hermione wanted to melt away slowly. "I…um… I wanted to see your mum again."

"Would you like to take a walk with me?"

She pushed back a stray strand of hair and smiled at him. "That would be great."

Outside they strode a ways from the house before Bill spoke. "I suppose my mother was explaining her little eves dropping the other night? I'm sorry if I embarrassed you."

"Embarrassed me? No, I'm not embarrassed. It's just I…I haven't dated since Ron died. I was hoping that we could get the date itself over and done with before she found out. I was afraid she'd be angry with me," Hermione confessed childishly.

Bill stopped mid step and stared at her for a moment. "Why on Earth would she be?"

She shrugged. "Because of Ron. Because I'm betraying him, in a way."

"Ron wouldn't want you to be alone."

"I know that. I promised him that I would be happy, but it's hard sometimes." Hermione plopped down on a grassy hill and tugged at the grass.

Bill cleared his throat and sat beside her. His blue eyes were clouded with sadness, as he took hold of her hand. "I made Ron a promise too. I told him that I would make sure you were safe and happy."

Hermione pulled her hand back angrily. "So this is what the date is about! You feel obligated because of a promise! Well I can get my own dates thank you very much."

"No, Hermione, just let me explain please!" He raked a hand through his long red hair. "He could have asked any of our brothers. Do you know why Ron asked me?"

Still annoyed, she simply shook her head.

"Because he knew that I was falling in love with you."

"Don't even try to tell me something so ridiculous! You had Fleur."

Bill nodded. "I had a vain, whiny brat, and every time I looked at you I admired you more. Ron brought you home for Christmas your seventh year, and all I could do was stare. I felt like bloody pedophile! Here I was twenty-seven years old, and I was drooling over a seventeen year old girl. He came to me, because he knew that I would love you every bit as much as he did."

Hermione closed her eyes. He must have done it around the same time that she made her promise. "Bill, I never knew. Why have you been avoiding me all this time? Every time I came for a holiday, you were mysteriously away. Why tell me this now?"

"It's taken me this long to not blame myself," he said solemnly.

"But why would you blame yourself?" Tears crept up in her eyes.

"I envied Ron. For a time, I felt like I killed him with my wanting you." His voice was thick with emotion. "I would give anything to have them back."

Her cheeks were soaked and she hugged him fiercely. "I would too. But I know that none of them would want either of us to be unhappy."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I don't expect you to love me, not yet anyway, but I want to try."

Smiling, she wiped the tears away. "I do too."