AN - So, this is the last chapter of the story! It has come at last. ;-) Also, again, I really want to express my gratitude to everyone has been reading and reviewing. I'm so glad you love the fic, and I hope you adore this final chapter. ;-)
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Two Weeks Notice:
Chapter Seven
-dutchtulips-
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At last, the day had come. Hermione's final day of work at Weasley Towers, Ltd. A farewell party had been thrown for her in the staff lounge, and all of the employees had gathered to celebrate and say good-bye. The room was modestly decorated - a few bouquets of balloons scattered about - and a large dessert buffet had been set up: Honeydukes chocolate, toffee, and coconut ice; chocolate and peppermint toads; apple and cherry pies; éclairs; treacle tarts; spotted dog; and in the middle, a multi-tiered chocolate cake with white icing and purple rosettes, made of sugar.
Hermione was having a good time, in spite of herself. Remembering the last time she'd overindulged on the sweets, she'd taken only a slice of the farewell cake for herself. She'd hardly finished eating it before her assistant, Claudia, was calling her to the front of the room.
"Hermione, could you come up here for a moment, please?" She asked, looking antsy.
She got out of her chair, curious but game, and joined Claudia. "So, what's up your sleeve?" She smiled.
"Well, I wrote a small good-bye poem, and we all signed a big banner for you, too!" Claudia pulled a large cloth from behind her back, and unrolled it. Inked on it were signatures and messages from all of Hermione's employees, which she handed to her. "Now," she pulled a piece of parchment from her pocket, "are you ready for my poem?"
Hermione grinned. "Go ahead."
"Oh, good!" Claudia said enthusiastically. Unfolding the paper, she began to read from it. " 'I hope you've enjoyed our little shower / For here at the company it is your last hour. / We're really going to miss you at Weasley Towers / But we're sending you off with a large vase of flowers.' "
At her last line, Claudia waved her wand, and conjured up the biggest bouquet of white lilies that Hermione had ever seen. She took them gratefully from her assistant as the others applauded the poem, and returned to her seat. As she turned to gather up her box of personal items, someone hurried up to the table.
"Hermione!"
She looked up, and when she saw who it was, a queasy feeling began churning in her stomach. "Oh, hello, Hannah."
"Hi," the blonde said pleasantly. "I knew you were leaving, so I just wanted to say good-bye. And thank you, for everything. Where will you be going now?"
"Oh, well, a position at the Ministry opened up, in the Department of International Magic Law," she replied. "I applied, and they accepted, so I've decided to take it."
"How wonderful," Hannah said nicely. "And, also... I, er, wanted to apologize for... last night. That was awkward."
Hermione was quiet, fussing needlessly with her box. As she was moving some books around, she heard Hannah clear her throat, and so she looked up. "Yes?"
"Well, it's just... the Spellotape dispenser." She pointed to it, stamped with the large 'W' insignia, in Hermione's box. "Doesn't it belong to the company? But, er, never mind. I'm sure there are a hundred more here!"
She smiled thinly, tucking the tape away. "Well, I suppose I've earned something, working here eighteen hours a week, every week, since I started."
"Wow. You must be some workaholic!"
Hermione was still smirking, just slightly. "No, actually. Those are your hours when you work with Ron."
Hannah looked startled at this bit of news, but recovered smoothly. "Well, no, that's all right, I can be a workaholic, too. That's why I'm very adamant about separating my personal and professional life."
At those words, Hermione couldn't resist. She had been seething since this woman walked into the room. "Well, yes, I suppose that would explain the late night meeting in your knickers," she said sarcastically.
"I'm sorry?" This time, Hannah hadn't missed the nastiness in her voice. "That is none of your business," she snapped, and reached into the box to grab the Spellotape dispenser back.
Hermione's hand shot out for it right away, and as her fingers closed around it, she attempted to jerk the dispenser back. She didn't even say a word; the infuriated look on her face said it all.
But Hannah pulled it away from her yet again, and in the blink of an eye, the two women were nearly wrestling to the floor as they fought vehemently over the tape dispenser.
Hermione wasn't sure how long she'd been locked in combat with Hannah before someone wrapped their arms around her waist and was pulling her back to her feet. She stopped flailing her arms and legs long enough to twist around to see who it was.
"Ron?"
"Yeah," he mumbled. "Come on, we need to talk."
His hands still on her torso, he pulled her out of the lounge and into the adjoining kitchenette. Right before the door swung closed, she shot Hannah one last, vicious look, waving the tape dispenser haughtily at her.
Finally Ron put her down and let go of her, and as soon as he did, she turned immediately away from him. He, however, was gazing at her, his eyes boring into her.
"What on Earth was that all about?" He asked, referring to the fracas.
"Well, your girlfriend wouldn't give me my Spellotape back," she said crabbily. "It's part of a new office strip search, I suppose." Pause. "Are you still planning on tearing down the bookstore?"
Ron stared at her. "Listen, I know you're still upset about last night -"
"Are you still planning on tearing down the bookstore?"
"I've been hoping all day that we could discuss -"
"Are you still planning on tearing down the bookstore?"
Ron sighed, feeling his frustration welling up inside of him. "What is wrong with you?" He suddenly blurted. "Are you incapable of talking about anything except your own life?"
She merely rolled her eyes at him. "Are you still planning on tearing down the bookstore?"
"All right, all right," he said, trying to remain civil. "Let me remind you - you came to the hotel last night. I was with Hannah. We were... unusually dressed. You must have some feelings."
Hermione stared at her feet for quite awhile, as if contemplating whether or not to relent. Then, without even looking at him, started for the door. "I don't have to listen to this."
"Oh, for Merlin's sake -"
"You know what? Where do you come off!" Hearing his disdain, she'd turned right back around again, meeting eyes with him for the first time. Hers were burning with fury. "Where do you come off? Please tell me. Because believe it or not, I didn't take this job to be your doting little sidekick. I took this job for a cause."
Ron rolled his eyes. "You are a cause!" He exclaimed. "You make Guinevere look like a bag lady!"
"You know what I can't believe?" Hermione shot back. "I can't believe how easy you're being on yourself! Let's go over this again, shall we?" She slammed her fist against the counter. "You promised me a bookstore -"
"Yes, I know!" He exclaimed, cutting her off. "I promised, I promised, I promised! And I'm sorry that I can't control the economy, that I can't control my brother... Yes, I promised, and yes, I'm sorry I let you down." Ron was getting emotional now. "But you know what? I'm human. I think you'll find that a lot of people are! Sometimes a magic wand doesn't work on everything!"
"What! I'm human, too, you know!"
"No!" He disagreed ardently. "Nowhere near! You're too human, you're too perfect - none of us can keep up with you, and we've never been able to! It's because you're insufferable! Nobody wants to be preached to, Hermione! Nobody wants to live with a saint! Saints are boring."
The entire line of conversation lapsed into silence after that. Ron had been waiting for her to reply, with one of her waspish retorts, but when she didn't - and was now refusing to look at him again - he knew he must've said something hurtful. He stepped forward then, to reach out for her, but before he could do anything, the kitchenette door cracked open, and Percy's secretary was standing there.
"Ron?" She inquired. "Your brother would like to see you. As soon as possible."
He sighed, his hands dropped back to his sides. He tried to catch her eye, but Hermione ignored him, and he reluctantly followed the secretary out of the room.
Once he had gone, Hermione was finally able to look somewhere else besides her feet. She wearily raised her head, letting out a long, shaky breath. Numbly she fingered an empty buttonhole on her robes, and in her other hand, only now, did she realize she was still clutching the tape dispenser. She hastily dropped it to the counter, and sighed again. The next minute though, she felt her face grow damp as rivulets of warm tears spilled onto her cheeks.
---
Hermione sighed as she opened her refrigerator, reaching in and removing the pitcher of orange juice. She put it on her kitchen table, where a modest spread of food was already laid out - pancakes, sausage, fruit, and toast. It'd been over a week since she took the new job at the Ministry, and she was still trying to get used to her new routine, of which breakfast-making had now become a part. She'd never been much of a cook, but as she looked at the table now, and the food on it, she gave a satisfied smile. It was getting easier.
Slowly she seated herself at the small oak table, and piled some of the food on her plate. Just as she was pouring juice into her goblet, she heard a voice suddenly call out for her.
"Knock, knock! Hermione, you ready to go?"
She got up from her chair and padded out into the living room, where she could see Harry, poking his head through the ajar front door. Because he was an Auror, and she'd just started at the Ministry, they'd opted to travel to work together every morning. "Hi," she said pleasantly. "I'm not ready yet; I'm still having breakfast. Would you like some?"
Harry grinned and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "Sure!" He replied brightly, following her into the kitchen. "Today's Ginny's day off, so she slept in. Which reminds me - are you still going to meet us for lunch today? Leaky Cauldron?"
Hermione reached into the cabinet, pulling out an extra plate for her best friend. "Of course," she smiled, and sat back down to her food.
He reached for the toast, and as he did so, he asked, hoping it sounded casual, "And, er, are you going to the protest at Flourish and Blotts today?"
She stabbed her fork into a sausage. "No," she said shortly. "I'm not."
Harry shot a sideways glance at her. "You're kidding."
"No," she repeated, shaking her head. "I absolutely cannot stand to watch another building get knocked down."
"Hey," he said, a little loudly, nudging her meaningfully. "You've never just sat on the sidelines! As long as I've known you you've stood up for what you believed in. Always!"
"Harry, I'm not sitting on the sidelines," she replied gloomily. "I can't just sit outside the bookstore all day, I have to go to work! And besides," she averted her eyes, "he's not going to listen to me anymore, so what's the point? Not to mention he said some horrid things about me that were so... so... true."
He gave her shoulder a friendly rap, and said, trying to raise her spirits, "So you change your tactics. You keep at it. You never stopped pushing S.P.E.W., did you? And when it came time for me to go after Voldemort, you refused to be left behind." Pause. "As long as people can change, the world can change. You know that, especially after everything that we've all been through."
"Yeah, I know," Hermione said softly, pushing away her plate. "But I just... I just..."
"What?"
She rose from the table. "I... I think we'd better get going to work, before we're late. Are you finished?"
Harry speared the last strawberry on his plate and put it in his mouth. "Yeah, let's go."
---
Half the morning was already over at the Ministry of Magic before Hermione had a moment to herself to relax. The fifth floor wasn't often an extremely busy section of offices, but Hermione herself had been rather wrapped up in work. Although her cubicle was prim and neat, her desk was towering with stacks of documents and scrolls, making the rest of her office seem a mess. Since arriving at work, Hermione been going through paperwork, but now a break in her day had a diplomat from the Welsh Ministry coming into her office for a meeting in only a few minutes' time.
Deciding to take advantage of her wait, Hermione left her cubicle to go the front of the large room, where there was a silver jug kept filled with pumpkin juice. She wanted to recharge her energy for the meeting, and knew that a nice, cold drink would hit the spot.
Halfway there, though, the immense walnut doors next to the drink jug creaked open, and the man who slipped through was the last person she ever expected to see.
Ron.
He was looking around slowly, as if lost, and right away, there was no question in her mind who he was looking for. Her fight-or-flight instincts were ripping away at her insides, frozen to the spot but doing everything she could to get away at the same time. It didn't matter though, because the moment she saw his expression perk up, she knew he'd seen her.
"Oi, Hermione!"
Her instincts had made a decision; they were walking her legs back to her cubicle as fast they could carry her. But Ron was already hot on her heels, and speaking rapidly to her. "Wait! Listen, I need your advice about something. And then I promise, you will never hear from me again."
Hermione turned into her office, and saw a young man with dark, curly hair sitting in front of her desk - the Welsh diplomat had arrived. She turned back to look at Ron, who was now in her cubicle, too, standing at the threshold. "Look, I have a meeting," she said curtly, gesturing to the diplomat. "Which means I'm busy. Come back later."
"Please? It won't take more than a few minutes," he said, and then, without waiting for an answer, continued on. "Okay, I've just written the speech for the Budleigh Babberton groundbreaking - my first speech entirely by myself since you worked for me - and I'd very much like to hear your opinion." Ron withdrew a sheet of parchment from his pocket and held it out to her, but when she wouldn't take it, he simply shrugged. "Fine, then, I guess I'll have to read it to you."
Hermione had her arms crossed, staring pointedly at the wall, but it didn't deter him. He cleared his throat and started. " 'I'd like to thank everyone for coming out on this very special day. Weasley Towers' paper on Budleigh Babberton will transform the estate into a magical community as innovative as Hogsmeade and will enrich our population tenfold. However, there is one fly in the ointment. You see, in order to raise our funds to secure, we would've had to destroy the bookstore Flourish and Blotts. And I gave my promise to someone that we would not do that.' "
He chanced a look at her at that moment, and he noticed that she was paying rapt attention now to his words. The sight gave him a surge of confidence, and so he continued on. " 'Now, many business rivals of mine can attest that my word wouldn't mean very much. So why does it this time? Well, in part because the bookstore is a jewel to Diagon Alley, and it deserves to be landmarked, but also in part because -' "
Ron lowered his paper to gaze at her, having every word on it nearly memorized. His blue eyes were shining as they looked at her, gleaming with emotion. " '- Because this person, apart from being terribly stubborn - and quite a prude, at times - she's... well... she's a lot like the building she loves so much. A little rough around the edges, but, once you get to know her... absolutely beautiful. And even though I've said rotten things, and driven her away,' " he gave her a poignant look, " 'She's become the voice in my head. And I think she always has, but I just never started listening until now. I can't drown her voice out, but the truth is... I don't want to. So... we are going to keep the bookstore. Because I made a promise to her. And we made a promise to the community.' " He paused for a moment, and his voice dropped lower, "And I didn't sleep with Hannah."
Hermione's eyebrows furrowed as she peered at him, and then he hurriedly said, "Oh, that's not in the speech. That's just me, letting you know that very important fact."
She nodded wordlessly in reply.
"So, er... what did you think?"
Ron locked eyes with her, and for a long minute she was gazing back at him, thoughtful and contemplative. But then it simply passed. The gloomy look in her eyes, had returned. "I have to get back to work."
He blinked, feeling stung. He'd been hoping that the speech would win her over, but apparently it hadn't worked. He tried his best to hide the sadness in his eyes, but he knew it must've been visible, if even just slightly. Slowly, he folded up the piece of paper and stuffed it in his pocket. "Very well. Sorry to disturb you," he replied quietly. "Excuse me."
Hermione watched as Ron spun lightly on his heel and left her office, disappearing completely amid the sea of cubicles and out the double doors. Calmly she lowered herself in her chair, staring at her desk. After several long moments, she mumbled, "Apart from the sentence fragment somewhere in the middle... I think that's the most gorgeous speech I've ever heard."
And the Welsh diplomat, who had not uttered a single word since his arrival, nor all through Ron's visit, suddenly said, "Romeo would've been proud. The only thing I don't understand is what the bloody hell you're still doing sitting there."
She nodded in agreement and, bursting into tears, jumped up from her chair and ran out of her cubicle and the office. She looked quickly through the fifth floor corridor; it was empty. Feeling panicked now, Hermione dashed to the lift, making it there and sliding in just before the doors closed. She jabbed the button for the ground floor, and the lift chains rattled as it descended to the bottom level.
It felt like an eternity, but then the gold grilles opened and Hermione darted out of the elevator. In the middle of the peacock-blue hall, throngs of witches and wizards were rushing about to their various destinations. She stood on her tiptoes, searching desperately among the sea of people, and her heart swelled when she spotted a very familiar red-haired head among the crowd.
"Ron!" She shouted. "Ronald!"
She started to run towards him, pushing past the other Ministry workers, ignoring their affronted glares. As she did, she saw him turn around - he'd heard his name being called. When he saw her dashing through the hall, straight for him, the biggest, brightest grin broke out on his face.
Finally Hermione reached him, and without any warning, she dived right into his arms, wrapping hers around him as tightly as she could, enveloping him in a bone-crushing embrace.
"Oh, Ron," she exclaimed. "Thank you. Thank you!"
He hugged back warmly, chinning her shoulder for a moment before she pulled back to look at him. "And I know that I can be bossy and demanding, I know this. But I want to try and change because I think people can change," she rambled, "and I can change and not be so difficult, you know? And try to meet you halfway, and -"
But her words drifted off as Ron reached over and pressed two fingers to her lips, shushing her. After a moment, he lowered them. He was still smiling at her when he asked, "Hermione?"
"Yes?"
"I... I am in love with you."
A huge smile stretched across her lips, lighting up her already bright brown eyes. "And I'm in love with you."
His grin grew wider, if it were possible, and he began to lean forwards toward her. Halfway there, however, he suddenly stopped. "Oh, yes, one more thing. I've resigned, and am now poor. Again."
Hermione couldn't contain a small giggle to escape from her. "Good. That's... good."
"Well, when I mean poor," Ron explained, looking amused, "I mean I may have to move back to the Burrow. Does that work for you?"
She reached up then, resting her wrists around his neck. "As long as I don't have to work for you, we will be just perfect."
Ron laughed, enclosing his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him. "And now... I'd very much like to discuss that whole manticore-pretzel thing."
"Oh, well, are you sure about that? A manticore sting kills instantly, you know."
"Truly? That's very disappointing."
"Yes, it is," Hermione said, and then a playful sparkle appeared in her eyes. "But I can do the pretzel."
Ron didn't reply; at least, not with words. Leaning forward the rest of the way now, he tenderly covered her lips with his, kissing her deeply. She fervently returned it, their mouths mingling together. It was heated, passionate, and felt as if it would never end. Several Ministry workers passed them in the hall, and even a few stopped in their tracks to stare, as the pair were, more or less, making out right in the middle of the Ministry of Magic. Hermione, who was vaguely aware of the fact, would have laughed, but right now she found her current activity to be just too irresistible. And Ron, who had no idea at all that people were staring, had by now nearly lifted Hermione right off the ground as they went right on kissing.
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The Leaky Cauldron. As Hermione stepped in from the courtyard door, she saw - as always - sitting at their favorite corner table, her two best friends, Harry and Ginny, whom she was meeting for lunch. The couple was chatting, sitting with a tall bottle of pumpkin juice between them. She grinned at the sight, feeling so happy she thought she might burst. Because, for once, she wasn't alone.
Stepping into the tavern behind her, holding her hand, was Ron. He too was smiling, albeit in a rather silly way. "I can't believe you insisted on this."
"Oh, hush up," she replied amusedly, pulling him gently towards their friends' table.
Harry was the first to see them, his eyes glowing. He waved them over enthusiastically, and once his best friends had stepped up the table, he turned to his wife and said, "Hey. Looks who's here."
Ginny twisted in her chair, and when she saw Ron and Hermione standing together - her brother with his arm around Hermione, and she leaning against him - she couldn't disguise the ecstatic beam that took over her entire face. She looked delighted, jubilant, as she shared a look with her best friend.
And then, Hermione said happily, "Room for two more?"
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el fin.