Hermione felt an odd prickling sensation rise up her back. Something didn't feel right. She shook the thought out of her head and then it occurred to her that she was probably cold, so she went back to her bedroom, and slipped a pair of soft pink slippers on. Then she pulled a zip up jumper over her shoulders, but didn't zip it up. She still didn't feel like everything was right so she went around and made sure all the windows were sealed. She unlocked the door and stuck her head out, just in case there was someone lurking around there.

Then she walked away and went back into her kitchen. She was certain another cup of coffee and a piece of toast might calm her down. Flicking her wand in the direction of the radio, letting the music fill her apartment. She finally began to relax and started fixing herself breakfast.

Ron looked up at the building. It towered over him, leaving him in its shadow. He had walked past this building heaps, when he was buying groceries or when he went to the bakery around the corner. But never before had it done what it was doing.

Now it was taunting him, daring him to go inside. He hate when somebody did that. He was about to turn around and walk back across the park and find a new place to move to. Blocking Hermione… whatever her last name was now from his life forever.

But then he stopped, thinking that the person he had missed so very much was only a few floors above him. She was in there. Hermione, the person he had wanted to see in four years, the girl who had taunted him in his dreams, was up there in that building and all he had to do was go inside and get her.

'Where's Ron?' Ginny said, softly walking around his house, her head turning from side to side in search of her brother.

'Dunno. He might be at work… it's Monday remember!' Harry replied, unconcernedly, flipping the channel on the radio over to a Quidditch one.

'Oh… yeah…' Ginny replied unconvinced.

'Gin. Stop worrying. He's probably over at Diagon Alley, wasting his time, working for Fred and George's shop,' said Harry, placing his arms around his wife's shoulders.

She let her head fall onto his shoulder and began to relax. He was right, Ron probably was just working, not even thinking about Ginny or Harry or anyone.

Hermione was standing in her kitchen. She stopped making her food. This wizarding music just didn't have the right tone to it. She knew what she should listen to. Grabbing her Muggle CD player, she plugged it into the wall and threw her favourite CD in it. It was an old CD her sister had sent her for her 17th birthday but she still loved it.

She resumed making breakfast again, reaching for the jam, all the while, telling herself that there was no reason for her to think that something was up. Everything was the same, same apartment, same Hermione, same loneliness. It was all the same.
But little did she know she was completely wrong, something was different, whether or not hse could see it was another story. Had she looked out the window at this very seconds, she would have seen different.

Soon, Maroon Five was soothing her, making her oblivious to the world around her.

Ron shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and with a scowl on his face her trudged into the marble foyer. He wondered if there was the same intercom relay thing in this building. He wandered up to the front desk where a short, brown hair woman was sitting.

'Uh… Hello… I'm… looking for uh…'

The woman's face lit up. 'You're looking for Hermione aren't you?' she said nodding, her neat bob bouncing around her face.

'Uh…well… yes! How'd you know?'

'She's had a lot of visitors this week and there was a girl and her husband… they came in here and she had the same colour hair as you…. So I just gathered that you had to be looking for her too.'

'You're good!' he remarked, silently thanking Merlin for the fact that the woman was just going to let him in, without giving Hermione a chance to boot him out.

'Thanks! You can go up if you like!'

'Can you just tell me what floor she's on?'

'Uhh… sure… she's on level six… apartment…'

'Thirty two… yeah… I know that.'

'Okay… bye!'

Ron stood in the elevator and watched the button with 6 on it glow. Everything seemed to be more intimidating now. The button seemed to glow in it's orange way menacingly. He felt stupid but it was true. Feeling the elevator rise, he felt his trepidation level go with it.

A few seconds later the elevator tinged to signal their arrival. The doors opened, revealing a cold hallway. It was marble like the foyer but it had various doors each marked with a number. On this floor was 31, 32 and 30. He walked along the hallway, hoping not to make too much noise. He walked to the end of the relatively small hallway. It was the door marked 32 in gold. Ron felt as though his heart had stopped. Hermione was behind this door. Hermione was somewhere behind this thin piece of wood. Ron had the sudden urge to Alohomora the door down and go and find her. But she would just apparate from him. He had to do this is a orderly sense. Taking a deep breath he raised a hand to knock on the door.

Hermione was so emerged in the music by now. She was singing along with it, forgetting everything and everyone around her. She had put the CD on repeat because it just seemed so fitting. She took a sip of her coffee and then began to butter her toast, not thinking that there could possibly someone outside her door.

Ron rapped on the door. He waited. No reply. He tapped harder, she had to be home, Who wouldn't be home at this hour?

Growing impatient he tried the door handle. It was unlikely that Hermione didn't lock her door but he felt he would try. Pulling the handle down gently, he was surprised, when it clicked open revealing a tiny slit of Hermione's apartment.

So this is where Hermione lives? He thought, cracking the door slightly more open.

He looked around, he saw a brown, leather couch with lots of white throw rugs and cushions over it. He saw a fire blazing in front of that. And he could see a empty coffee mug in front of it.

His heart leapt. That meant she was awake! If she had recently lit the fire and had a cup of coffee that meant she had to be out here. He opened it wider. Now he could see most of the apartment.

The first thing he saw was a well-kept kitchen. It had dark brown slate benches with metallic fleck through it. There were tidy brown cupboards with silver metal handles. There was many appliances, a stainless steel fridge, a stainless steel dishwasher. Everything seemed so neat. Finally Ron saw her.

There she was, right in front of him. She was wearing a tiny pair of boxer shorts, they were white with small flowers on them. She was wearing a black jumper over that and she displayed her long legs, ending in a pair of pink slippers. She had her back to him, dancing to music playing. Her hips were swaying in time with it and she was singing, 'She will be loved…she will be loved,'

Ron smiled, she had a beautiful voice even though he hadn't heard it in a long time.

He was longing to see her face.

Hermione felt like someone was watching her. She tried to tell herself to stop being stupid and to get back to cutting her toast. But she couldn't shake the feeling. She put her coffee cup and turned. Who she saw surprised her so much.

She had expected to never see that face again. But there he was. His flaming red hair, broad shoulders, and his shocked, pale face. There was no doubting it. It was Ron Weasley.

Ron saw her turn unexpectedly. His jaw dropped. She had changed so much. She had thick brown curls, hanging over her shoulder, moving with her every actions. She had the same thin face and high cheekbones. But everything else was different. She was incredibly thin, her brown eyes put on a brave appearance, though not fully hiding the insecurities in their depths. She had stopped swinging her hips and her face was showing fear, confusion and finally pure disbelief.

His eyes strayed to her chest, were he saw the very low neckline on her singlet top. Internally he slapped himself, he had only just found her this was no way to act! But he couldn't deny it, she had grown up and changed a lot in four years. Her voice broke his thoughts,

'Ronald?' she asked in disbelief. There was no possible way for him to find her! Ginny had promised that if Ron were to ever to try and track her down that she wouldn't tell him.

A very large part of her wanted to march over there and slam the door in his fae, locking it tight. But another part of her wanted to collapse into his arms and tell him how much she missed him.

Suddenly he spoke, 'Mione?'

Hermione continued to look at the man, 'Y-y-you… you can't be!' she stammered.

Ron found a tiny speck of confidence, he took a step forwards, and he was now standing by the door inside Hermione's apartment.

She was still looking incredulous. 'B-b-but… But Ginny swore she would never tell anyone where I lived!' she stammered out still looking at Ron. Then she realized what she was wearing. She gave a small scream and tried zip up the black jumper. But the zip got caught, she began to yank at it, tugging hysterically before letting out a cry and running back up her hallway.

Ron didn't know what made him do it but he walked into her apartment nervously. He stood uncomfortably by her kitchen wondering whether or not he should go talk to her. Her reaction wasn't exactly like he had planned, but he hadn't expected her to run into his arms. Ron began to wonder if she had gone back to her bedroom to wake her husband and tell him that there was a weirdo in the apartment. He just hoped Hermione was prepared to talk to him.

Hermione collapsed on her queen bed, her chest heaving. She had thought about him all week and now he had found her she wasn't sure if she wanted him here. She tried to calm herself desperately. Boiling anger, burned under her skin, and she wanted nothing more than to be able to punch him. Instead, she settled for a pillow. After she had thumped it stopped.

'Breath Hermione. It's okay' she told herself, 'Just relax… go out and talk to him. Jut act like an adult. You don't have to go back to him just act civil.'

Hermione began to breath deeply, and her tears slowed. She stopped crying altogether and decided to make him wait a little longer. Running into her ensuite she began to run a shower.

A few minutes later se emerged, clean and dressed, she had magically dried her hair then brushed out her curls making her hair as tidy as she would ever get her thick curls to get. Then she made sure she was in a proper set of clothing. A pair of low rise jeans and a black, tight sweater. Then she took a deep breath trying to calm her nerves. She clenched her hands and walked out of her bedroom.