Chapter 2

Tension gripped the inhabitants of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Under normal circumstances Harry would have left well enough alone, but time was not on his side. Was it ever?

Ron's looming departure made it impossible for Harry to remain on the sidelines.

"Hermione," he cajoled, "he's leaving in three days."

"Stay out of it." A fierce glare punctuated the command.

"I can't," he said. "The two people I care for most in the world are being complete idiots."

"He made his choice."

"For you."

"I'm not talking about this anymore." She buried her nose in a book to hide the tears.

Harry left the library to find Ron. He climbed the stairs keeping quiet for no reason. Grimmauld Place had undergone a remarkable transformation. The vileness of its former inhabitants disappeared through Kreacher and Winky's ministrations. House elf magic was an astonishing sight to behold. With the death eaters locked in Azkaban there was no reason for Harry not to take up residence in his own house.

Hermione moved in once she retrieved her parents. Then Ron against Mrs. Weasley's wishes. When the trio pointed out how they had been living together for the past year, and the fact they were never left alone in Grimmauld Place she loosened her stance slightly, only saying things were different now.

It was true though. The removal of the Fidelius Charm allowed order and D.A. members alike to drop by. Some mornings Harry awoke to discover the odd person had spent the night. Once he'd found Lee Jordan and his old Quidditch team including Oliver Wood chatting around the kitchen table.

"Master Harry, sir, how many for dinner?" Kreacher asked.

"I think…" An idea struck. It was sneaky, perhaps devious, but if it worked. "Kreacher, here is what we have to do." Harry immersed himself in his plans with Kreacher forgetting his search for Ron.

#

Ron paced shooting dirty looks at his bedroom door.

George apparated onto the bed. "Hey bro."

"What?" Ron snarled.

"Chill dude. Guess you and her highness are still in a tiff."

"She won't talk to me."

"Years of experience has taught you nothing." George shook his head sadly.

"Why are you here?"

"Moving in."

"You've got a flat."

"Had. It's now an office. Needed the space. Who knew owning a business required so much paper work."

"Which room are you taking?"

George smirked. He inspected the comfy set-up. "This will do."

"This is my room."

"You won't be needing it."

Ron frowned. "Oh yeah."

"Bad timing," George admitted. "Never fret, I don't even know what's on these sheets." He jumped up pulling a face.

Ron's face heated turning red in the process. He didn't know why. Hermione and he hadn't done anything improper. He mumbled something indistinguishable resuming his pacing.

"Pathetic," George said. "I gotta talk to Harry." It might be wise to ask to live in his house.

#

Alone in the dining room Hermione checked her watch. Kreacher said dinner at six. Where was everyone else?

Ron walked to the dining room. He wondered if Hermione would be at dinner. He paused on the threshold. She took his breath away. Merlin, she was beautiful. His doubts disappeared. As soon as he stepped in the doors closed. The lights dimmed. The table transformed into a romantic dinner for two.

Harry, Ginny, and George crouched outside the dining room door.

"Will this work?" Ginny asked.

"Hope so," Harry answered. If not, he planned on a hasty retreat. Life on the run wasn't so bad.

"Good thing we took their wands." George laughed. Two wide eye stares met his wiping away the grin. "You did take them?" Harry nodded. "You forgot the knives?" Harry nodded again. Something thudded into the door. "We should go."

The three sped into the relative safety of the kitchen.

#

Ron rubbed his shoulder. Hermione found his Muggle antics endearing at times. This was not one of them. She reached for her wand. Nothing. They took her wand. Rage bubbled.

"Might as well eat," Ron suggested. He never turned down food.

Hermione's stomach grumbled lamenting its neglect at lunch. She sat, and unfolded her napkin. He followed suit.

A stony silence hovered in the room broken only by the clink of cutlery. Their friends had gone to a lot of trouble. The meddlesome, infuriating lot of them.

"Hermione," Ron said. "I never meant to hurt you."

"Stop."

"But —"

"No. We're here again." A vicious cycle of argument, apology, forgiveness, and repeat. The time between forgiveness and argument kept getting shorter, while the time between argument and apology kept getting longer.

"I'm not good at this relationship stuff," Ron confessed. "But I want to be with you. For us to be together."

"Then why did you decide to go to America?" Anguish faded her voice to a whisper.

"Because I hoped you'd come with me."

She gasped. He expected her to drop everything to go with him.

"Your N.E.W.T.s are important," he said. "Ilvermorny, the American school of magic, has the same educational standards as Hogwarts. We can finish our N.E.W.T.s together. For me it's part of the program."

"Oh, your bloody program," she spat. "You didn't consider what I want. After everything, I need to be close to the people I love. You want to go somewhere new where we don't know anyone. If you included me in your plans, why did you wait to tell me?"

"I told you. I didn't think I'd get it. I wanted you to be proud of me. We were going to —"

"I am proud of you," she interjected. "It's an honor for you to be accepted. However, we are in a relationship. We have to make decisions together. We should have sat down and discussed it. You should have told me about the program, and what you thought we could do. But you took everything for granted."

"I tried to talk to you. You wouldn't talk to me. Now it's too late," he mumbled.

"I guess it is." Tears spilled down her cheeks. She rose gracefully from her seat. She crossed to the door. She leaned into it for a second. She shook the handle. She had to escape. She pounded her fists on the wood.

"Let me out of here, HARRY JAMES POTTER!" she screeched.

The doors opened. Hermione ran. Harry stared after her torn between following her, or staying with Ron. George nudged him in Hermione's direction as he, and Ginny went into the dining room.

"What happened?" Ginny asked.

"I don't know," Ron said stunned.

#

Hermione had no idea where she was. She clutched her arms tightly to her chest as sobs racked her body. She pushed into a tree for support. She was dimly aware of someone walking toward her. She allowed the warm embrace of comfort. Her tears soaked Harry's shirt.

"I'm sorry, so sorry," he whispered. No other words came to him. How could he possibly tell her everything would be all right, when he didn't know.

"How dare you!" she screamed. She ripped herself from his arms. "Why did you do that?" He started to speak, but she held up her hand. "I don't care what your intentions were. You were stupid and childish. It didn't solve anything!" She couldn't contain the feelings bursting through. Her magic boiled entreating release.

She turned and ran. She forced the energy into her feet. They pounded against the pavement. No matter how long, or how fast she ran, the pavement took it with no push back.

Emerald eyes watched her go, not daring to follow. When she came back, he'd apologize until she forgave him. He'd promise not to interfere ever again.

#

"Where's Hermione?" Ginny asked upon Harry's return.

"Running."

"Shouldn't we?" She gestured outside.

"No," he said. "Where's Ron?"

"Packing. He said he has nothing to stay for." Ginny grasped his hand interlocking their fingers. She squeezed.

"What a mess," he commented.

"They'll work through it. They always do." Her smile did not instill confidence. This time was different.

Footsteps echoed in the hall. "Ginny," Mrs. Weasley called. She appeared in the foyer followed by Mr. Weasley. "Thank you, Harry, for having us over for dinner."

"Anytime," Harry replied. "More often if you wish."

"So sweet of you." She gave him a hug. "Bye, dear. Come along, Ginny."

"Place looks great, Harry," Mr. Weasley said ushering his wife aside. He shook Harry's hand.

Harry grabbed an envelope and handed it to Mr. Weasley with a significant glance at Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley turned discreetly. He peered in at the Muggle handbook for do-it-yourself motorcycle repairs. His eyes shone brightly. He nodded to Harry.

"We'll be outside, Ginny."

#

Diagon Alley bustled again. The stain of darker times rinsed and faded; witches and wizards were eager to return to an era of normalcy. This being Harry's first trip to the alley since Voldemort's defeat he noticed all the changes. More changes were ahead. The most surprising by far was the separation of the golden trio. Ron stood firm on his decision to go to America.

Hermione shed more tears admitting nothing of the turmoil raging inside her. Not even a letter from Headmistress McGonagall congratulating her on being Head Girl could wipe away her melancholy.

"Weird, isn't it?" she questioned after reading her letter. "It should be someone in their seventh year."

"Hermione, you deserve it. And it is your seventh year."

"I suppose a similar reason explains why you're Head Boy."

"Shut up." Harry laughed bringing a rare smile to her face. His letter completely shocked him to say the least. Not only was he Head Boy, but he was Quidditch Captain too. If the headmistress were anyone except McGonagall it would have screamed favoritism. But she was such a narrow, strait-laced person that the idea itself was ridiculous.

"Strange," Hermione added seeming to read his thoughts.

"Don't know what she was thinking."

"She claimed you were to be Head Boy in our year. She discussed it with Dumbledore."

"Where to first?" Harry asked sufficiently ending the conversation.

"Got your school list?" She snickered.

"Yes." He pulled it from his pocket and waved it in Hermione's face. "She sent them early enough." He didn't comment on how they were shopping too early as well. But one took distractions where and when they were needed. Ron was spending the day at the Burrow.

"She intends for her students to be prepared," Hermione said. "While also making the statement that Hogwarts will be restored to its full glory as a distinguished learning institution."

"Uh-huh. I assumed it was because she doesn't intend for her students to goof off. She made it clear she isn't to be crossed. Poor eleven-year-olds aren't going to know what hit them." Harry chuckled when Hermione pinched his arm.

"George asked us to stop by." Hermione reminded him. None of the other shops held her attention for more than a passing second.

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, here we come." He slid his arm through hers. "He could have talked to us at home."

"Maybe he has something to show us. Besides there's too many people coming and going at the house."

"Does it bother you?"

"Sometimes, but I can lock myself away in my room, or the library. They aren't there to see me."

#

"Harry, Hermione!" George yelled to get their attention. He beckoned them to join him at the back of the overcrowded shop. Harry, and Hermione carefully maneuvered through the throngs of customers.

"Good of you to come," George said. "Ever since Hogwarts announced its reopening it's been madness." He grinned.

"Do you realize the amount of trouble people will be causing?" fretted Hermione.

"Don't see why you're worried about it," George said.

"For your information, you are looking at the new Head Boy and Girl." Smugness blossomed across her face.

George did a double take. "No way, shouldn't someone younger be filling the position?"

Hermione swatted his arm. "Git."

"Ron was telling the truth when he said you two were taking the option to return."

Harry and Hermione hadn't broadcast their return to Hogwarts. In light of Ron's plans, theirs seemed less shocking.

"I'm glad the headmistress allowed it. I was going to owl her to ask if I could sit my N.E.W.T. exams."

Harry and George laughed. Only Hermione would still consider that after everything they had been through. Some things did not change.

"What? How were we ever going to get a good job?" She huffed eyeing Harry critically.

"Stop there." George raised a hand. "You think anyone would turn down the savior of wizard kind?" He bowed to Harry. "And his wonder girl? Please," he drawled, "you two could have gotten jobs anywhere by asking. For Merlin's sake, you are on a first name basis with the Minister of Magic."

"That wouldn't have been right," Hermione said.

Harry kept quiet, but he agreed with Hermione. He had been treated differently because of the scar on his forehead since he rejoined the wizarding world. He'd resisted the urge to use that to his advantage. He wouldn't start now.

"All right. All right." George held his hands in mock surrender. "Down to business. The reason I asked you to visit. I need your assistance."

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Harry," George soothed. "I'm following your examples."

Hermione frowned. "You're going back?"

"Yes, and as much as I sound like you, Miss Granger, I owled Professor McG to ask if I could finish my seventh year. She reluctantly agreed after some of my charming persuasion." He met with her in an interview and all but begged to be allowed to return.

"Why?" blurted Harry. Education had not been a high priority for Fred, or George.

"I plan to expand the business. That was one of our goals in the beginning. Why should Hogwarts students be the only ones to benefit from the wonderful merchandise this store possesses? However, I've hit a few stumbling blocks. Some international wizards will not take you seriously if you do not possess certain educational aptitudes."

"In other words," Hermione supplied, "no one wants to associate with a drop out no matter how much the bottom line is."

"Correct, my astute little witch."

"How can we help?" Harry asked.

"There's a condition to my re-admittance," he said. He scanned the room to make sure no one wandered into hearing distance.

"Which is?" prompted Hermione.

"I have to retake some O.W.L.s in order to sit in on the N.E.W.T. level classes."

"Oh," squealed Hermione. "Of course, we'll help you study."

"Thanks." That went better than expected. He hadn't had to state his intentions fully.

"You know," Harry said, "this could be an entertaining year after all."

"Right-o-mate."

Hermione rolled her eyes, because it was expected. Her heart wasn't in it. They could all use the laughter.