AN: In just over an hour, we're being put back in lockdown, destroying all of our Christmas plans. So I've spent most of this evening writing and fine-tuning this chapter. I hope you enjoy it and I hope if you're in any sort of lockdown that you're doing okay. As always, thank you for your reviews; please continue to leave them - they make me happy xxx

Ron takes Hermione to visit and old friend.

It hadn't taken long for Ron to get Hermione discharged from St. Mungo's Hospital. Her splinching wounds were not serious and Ron was warned that he just had to keep an eye on her overnight in case of concussion. As the healer had gone through the protocols, Hermione had thrown him a look as if to dare him to try and check in on her, causing him to chuckle softly. She was definitely feisty.

Once she had dressed (with Ron stood outside the curtain, holding onto it tightly to prevent any peeping Toms), he'd walked with her to the apparition point and apparated her carefully to the front doorstep of Grimmauld Place. He was suddenly grateful for the months of work they had put into making the house liveable after the war. They'd stripped the wallpaper, removed the family tree, and replaced the fabric on the furniture, doing it all by hand the muggle way in a final 'fuck you' to Walburga Black and the legacy of the 'Noble and Most Ancient House of Black'. The house was now fresh and bright and the picture of the Black matriarch that used to hang at the end of the hallway was finally removed by the help of Kreacher, the house-elf.

Ron shuddered to think what Hermione's impression of him might have been if he'd had to invite her into the old version of the house. Still, it felt a bit awkward as he ushered her inside; she was still a stranger to him and he didn't know what boundaries she may have yet.

"You must be hungry…" Ron shifted nervously from foot to foot in the hallway, looking anywhere but at the small brunette stood in front of him. "I know it's late but I don't mind throwing something together…"

"Actually, I'm still feeling a bit nauseous. Do you mind if I just go to bed?" Hermione gave him a small smile.

"No that's fine… I'll show you to the second-best room in the house…" He led her straight to the stairs and up to the second floor, guiding her into the bedroom next to his. He'd made the decision to put her in this room while they were still at the hospital. While he was sure she could look after herself, he wanted to be on hand in case she needed him during the night.

He was thankful that the house still used old gas lamps, which ignited automatically as they entered the room. He was too tired to explain how the electric lights worked. He double checked that she was happy with the room before leaving her to get acquainted with it while he found something for her to sleep in. He came back to the room after settling on a pair of clean pyjamas and held them out sheepishly to her.

"I don't know what you sleep in when you're home, but hopefully these are comfortable for you…" He was relieved when she took them with a smile.

"You've been so kind to me, yet you hardly know me…" She placed the pyjamas on the bed and turned back to look at him.

Ron shrugged, the tips of his ears turning pink again. "I wouldn't want to see anyone left out in the cold, especially at Christmas…"

"Yes, I noticed the house was rather bereft of decorations. Do you not celebrate here?"

"Nah not really…" Ron looked away and Hermione noted he seemed to be dealing with something personal to him. She decided not to push it any further tonight, although she made a mental note to try and find out more if she could. Something about this man intrigued her, she had never met anyone quite like him and in the short amount of hours that she'd known him, she found herself desperate to learn everything about him.

"Well, thank you. I'll see you in the morning I guess…"

Ron nodded. "I'm just next door if you need anything. Good night, Hermione…" He left her alone, not even smiling as he heard the lock turn in the door once it was closed. He debated going straight to bed, but decided he better update Harry. He popped into the study, sending his best friend a quick owl before finally getting into his own bed. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, the stressful day finally catching up with him.

Ron was woken early the next morning to the sound of the television blaring out from the living room, which happened to be directly underneath his bedroom. He cursed the Kreacher loudly. Sometimes he knocked the remote controls as he cleaned and it wasn't the first time he'd been woken this way. He hated mornings, especially when he'd been yanked so rudely from his sleep. He pulled his dressing gown over his bare arms, neglecting to tie it as the waist as he shoved his feet into his slippers and stormed down the stairs, ready to berate the poor house-elf.

He stormed into the living room, his face clouded in annoyance but stopped suddenly in his tracks as he was presented with a panicked Hermione, frantically pointing her wand at the television. In his half-asleep state, he'd forgotten that the witch was staying with him.

"Hermione? What's going on?"

Hermione spun quickly around at the sound of Ron's voice, about to demand how to work this magical talking box when she caught sight of his state of undress. His chest was bare, revealing a set of hard muscles laced with various scars with a glimpse of auburn hair just peeking over the waistband of his old pyjama bottoms. They were slung low on his hips and Hermione found herself heating up as she imagined what she might find under the material, not that she was very well versed in the ways of men. Everything she knew she'd learnt from books, including the couple of soft pornographic novels she had hidden away in her chambers at the castle. She turned back quickly lest the look on her face gave her away, covering her ears with her hands as her cheeks burned bright red.

"I pressed something and now this strange box won't stop making noise! It's so loud. Tell me how to make it stop!"

Ron had felt her eyes burning into him, biting back a swear word as he realised why she'd reacted the way she did. It had been a long time since he'd shared a house with a woman and he had no experience of Victorian witches to boot. He often lazed around the house in various states of undress; Kreacher had no shame and didn't care what he saw. Still, he felt himself feel strangely proud of Hermione's reaction and he resisted the urge to try and push her further. Once he was sure he was covered up, he reached past her to take the TV remote off the side of the sofa, turning the television off with a quick click. He breathed a sigh of relief as the room went quiet.

"What in Merlin's deepest circle of hell was that? I've never seen that kind of magic before…" Hermione started inspecting the box, pulling at the wires that connected it to the wall.

Ron let out a groan and walked out of the room, deciding it was far too early to deal with this. He needed coffee before he started explaining the ins and outs of muggle electricity to her. He flicked the kettle on and leaned against a counter, watching as she followed him into the room.

"Are you some kind of magical genius or something?" Hermione crossed her arms over her small frame and Ron took the moment to appreciate how she looked wearing his pyjamas. Her wild curls crackled with electricity and he was once again given a glimpse of how scary she could be. He took a bit longer to admire her before making eye contact with her and turning away again.

"No, I wish…" Ron chuckled to himself as he made them both a coffee. "It's a muggle invention. It uses electricity; Harry and I wired the place up when we moved in. The previous owners would have hated it; they were strict purebloods. The thought made us so happy, we may have ended up going a little overboard." He passed her a mug then started to make their breakfast.

Ron fast realised that spending time with a witch from the Victorian era would quickly prove to be more complicated than he first thought it would be. He had to explain everything in the house to her; she'd gasped in amazement as he'd opened the fridge door to get out some milk and it took almost twenty minutes to explain the bowl of Frosties he'd put in front of her. He suddenly had a deeper appreciation towards muggle-born wizards and witches and especially for Harry; who'd had to explain everything muggle to him over the years.

After breakfast, Ron gathered up the dishes and called Hermione to the sink, keen to show her how the hot water tap worked in the hope she would volunteer to do the washing up, a task he always hated. He was probably standing a little too close to her as he showed her how she could adjust the taps to get the water to the right temperature but he just couldn't resist the pull of her. He was oblivious to Harry and Ginny's appearance in the house until his brother-in-law cleared his throat.

"Good morning!" Harry threw an amused smile at Ron as he sat himself down at the table.

"Oh morning! I didn't realise you'd be here so early…" Ron turned suddenly, taking a step away from Hermione in the process. He immediately felt the loss of her by his side, although he didn't get long to examine that feeling.

"Obviously! We brought Hermione some clothes..." He pulled a bag out of his pocket and tapped it once with his wand to enlarge it. He pushed it towards their new friend before nodding towards his wife. "Professor Granger, this is my wife Ginny…"

Hermione watched as the petite ginger girl stepped towards her and immediately felt a warmth. She was very similar to her brother, although a lot smaller in size and she took the offered hand with a smile.

"It's really nice to meet you, Ginny!"

"It's nice to meet you too. I couldn't resist coming along when Harry said he was visiting; I just wanted to meet the witch from the past! Unfortunately, I can't stay long…" Ginny let go of Hermione and moved back to stand behind Harry, her hands resting on his shoulders. "I have training in an hour. We just dropped James off at Mum and Dad's and we thought we'd pop by…"

"Actually, I'm glad you're here Gin…" Ron plastered his biggest smile on to his face and Ginny knew he was after something. "Hermione might need…uh… a shower and she'll need someone to show her how to work it. I thought it would be more appropriate if you did it…"

"Oh of course…" Ginny kissed the top of Harry's head then lifted the bag of clothes off the table. She led Hermione away from the kitchen, chattering away with her as if they'd always been friends.

Ron watched them go then slumped back in his chair, rubbing his forehead. It felt like he'd been awake for hours already and it was barely 9 o'clock. He watched as Harry made more coffee with a flick of his wand.

"How's it been?" Harry threw his friend a concerned look.

"It's hard work! At first, I thought she'd definitely been confounded but seeing how she's reacting to everything around the house, I'm starting to believe she may actually be from the past. I'll have to write to Robards and ask for an extra day off so I can help her work out how to get back…" Ron scowled as Harry raised his eyebrows. "What?!"

"Nothing…" Harry smirked into his coffee cup. "You just seem very familiar with her already and you rarely take time off."

"I just feel bad for her, that's all. Time travel is difficult at the best of times and it must be worse if you're not expecting it!"

"Sure…" Harry's smirk grew wider. "So have you got a plan?"

"Well, I was thinking maybe to start at Hogwarts. She's adamant that's where she used to work and maybe someone up there can help us? She says she used to be the potion master, so if I have to I'll just speak to Snape…"

Harry shuddered at the sound of the name. "Well, good luck. I'm going to head into work, so let me know if there's anything you want me to look up…"

"Cheers mate…" The conversation soon changed to Ginny's next Quidditch game, which was fast coming up. The Boxing Day derby was always a notorious match-up, and this would be no exception. The entire cup was resting on the scores from the game.

It didn't take long for Ginny to join them again, followed by a rather hesitant Hermione. The youngest Weasley had persuaded her to swap her prim black robes for a pair of jeans and an oversized jumper. Ron could hardly believe the change in the witch. She looked brighter, especially with her hair washed.

"Right, it's time for us to go sweetheart…" Ginny headed back over to Harry and took his hand, pulling him up from where he sat. They quickly said their goodbyes, with Ginny promising to spend more time with Hermione before apparating away from Grimmauld Place.

Hermione smiled nervously as she was left alone with Ron, pulling the jumper down and over her body more. She had never worn trousers like this before; she usually favoured long dresses and skirts over the fashionable pantaloons, which were loose and usually covered with a skirt to protect the wearer's modesty but she could see why women now preferred these denim jeans, as Ginny had called them. She felt free to do whatever she needed to do, without having to worry about a sudden gust of wind blowing her dress up. The 'jumper' was cosy and warm and Hermione found it comforting.

"Feeling a bit better now?" Ron smiled as he poured Hermione another cup of coffee.

"Yes, actually. Those showers are fantastic things, although I'm afraid I had to borrow some of your…" Hermione searched for the right word in her head. "Shower gel? Ginny laughed and said I smelt like a man…"

"Better than smelling like a dung bomb, not that you did before of course…" Ron blushed bright red as he passed Hermione her mug. "I'm just going to go and grab my own shower…" Suddenly he was desperate to leave the room before he made a fool out of himself. "Feel free to explore the house…"

Ron left Hermione quickly, leaving her feel a little perplexed. She shrugged it off and sipped from her mug as she moved from room to room, glancing in each one briefly before moving on to the next. She finally found one that garnered her interest, and she moved further into it so she could explore it properly.

It didn't take Ron long to sort himself out and he came back downstairs, searching for Hermione. He finally found her browsing the shelves in the library.

"Ah, you found the books…" Ron leaned against the doorframe as he watched her. She turned suddenly, a book in her hand, and gave him a warm smile.

"Yes… books are fantastic although where I'm from we can usually only read during the daylight unless you have a really strong oil lamp. We've just started to get more printed books into the library at Hogwarts. I can't believe the collection you have here…" She closed the book and slid it carefully back into its rightful place. "There's never been a problem that hasn't been solved by finding the answer in a book. Although I haven't seen a title in here that may help me…"

Ron smiled and headed further into the library, scratching his head slightly. "I don't even think I've been in this room since we redecorated. I thought it might be good for us to go to Hogwarts if you think you'll be okay there. It'll be different from the castle you're used to…"

Hermione considered the offer briefly before nodding. "Yes, that seems logical. How will we get there though? The castle didn't allow people to apparate directly in…"

"And that hasn't changed. Are you okay to get yourself to Hogsmeade? We can walk in from there…"

She found herself agreeing, although in times gone by she wouldn't dare to visit the village with a man without being escorted by an elder. She felt a thrill of electricity coarse through her body at how daring she was acting and she found herself gravitating back towards Ron as they agreed on an apparition point to take.

10 minutes later and the pair landed in the wizarding village, barely noticed by the crowds of Christmas shoppers. The snow had been falling fast up here for the last few days, but luckily Ginny had thought to pack Hermione a coat with a matching scarf, gloves and hat set to keep her warm. Still, she shivered in the cold air as they started to walk towards the school.

"I forgot how cold it gets up here in the winter!"

"Me too, actually. It's like its own mini climate. Traveling between Hogwarts and Devon, where my parents live, always gave me a shock!" Ron laughed and pushed at the gates but frowned as he noticed Hermione wasn't by his side. She had stopped five feet away and was staring up at the castle. "You okay?"

"It's like it hasn't changed in all these years, but yet parts of this building look newer than the rest…"

Ron followed her gaze thoughtfully. "You're very observant. It took us a while after the war to rebuild it and we tried our best to make it look the same, but it's hard to make new look hundreds of years old, even with glamour charms and other magic."

"What war?" Hermione tore her gaze from the castle to look at Ron who didn't look back at her, instead his eyes fixed on the figure who had just appeared at the entrance.

"A bad war, I'll tell you about it later. It seems someone was expecting us…"

Hermione felt Ron place his hand on the small of her back as he guided her down the path. The grey-haired wizard gave them a small wave and a friendly smile as they approached.

"I had a feeling you two would be visiting me today… I assume this is Professor Granger?" The man regarded Hermione closely and without waiting for her to confirm, he continued speaking. "Yes, that's right. Exactly as you were before. I'm the Headmaster here; Professor Dumbledore…"

Hermione looked up at the elderly man, immediately recognising him from yesterday. She let out a small gasp. "You were at the hospital yesterday. You visited my bed, although you didn't talk to me…"

Dumbledore's brow furrowed in a frown, although his blue eyes sparkled with mischief. "I can assure you that was not me. I am an extremely busy man and spent most of yesterday afternoon helping Professor McGonagall persuade Peeves to stop bewitching the mistletoe. Just because the children have gone home, it doesn't mean the staff are allowed to get up to shenanigans, not that they need his help of course. I am a brilliant wizard, no doubt about it, but even I cannot be in two places at once. Now if you two would follow me to my office, we'll see what I can do for you…"

Ron threw Hermione a look once Dumbledore's back was turned and grinned as she let out a small, nervous laugh. He dropped his head close to her as they followed him in.

"He's harmless I promise…" His hand regained it's reassuring position at the small of her back as they followed him up the grand staircase to his office, taking a seat when told to do so. The headmaster offered them both a sherbet lemon, which they politely declined.

"So tell me what happened…"

Hermione noticed that Dumbledore had a way about him that made it very easy to trust him. She started to tell him the story, noticing with a fond smile the ease in which Ron made contributions when it was needed. It was like they had always worked together and felt perfectly natural to her.

"So you see Headmaster, we were just wondering if you had any idea of how I could get back to my own time?"

"Well, experimenting with magic is very dangerous. Without being able to see the exact potion you drank myself, I'm not sure how useful my advice will be…"

"I'm sorry, I didn't think to stash a vial in my robes before I was whisked away from the 1890s…" Hermione flopped back in her seat, looking forlorn with her arms crossed tightly over her body, her lips tightly pursed.

Anyone else would feel upset by the tone Hermione had taken with him, but not Professor Dumbledore. Instead, he chuckled softly before helping himself to another sweet. He sucked thoughtfully at it and Ron thought Hermione might burst with impatience.

"I see time travel hasn't dampened your spirit, Miss Granger." He sat up straighter. "Might I suggest that if you were looking to create Christmas Cheer among your students with your potion, then maybe helping find someone who needs a little Christmas Cheer here may help you find your way home?" He gave the pair a smile that infuriated Hermione, yet amused Ron.

"Now I'm afraid I have a staff meeting to hold; it is the Christmas holidays after all and I need to congratulate my faculty on surviving another term without any major disasters…"

Ron and Hermione thanked Dumbledore before starting to make their way back out of the castle. Once they were back out in the grounds, Hermione let out a frustrated groan; kicking at a rock that dared to be in her way.

"Well, that wasn't helpful!"

Ron stopped walking and watched her, feeling amused. Hermione's outburst was surprising, yet he knew this wasn't the worst she could do. He reminded himself that she wasn't used to the strange ways of Albus Dumbledore. He placed a hand carefully on her shoulder and continued walking up the path with her.

"The man has always been cryptic; I think he gets some sort of sadistic joy from it. He didn't help us during the war, even though he made it clear we needed to get involved with it. He just laid a stupid trail of clues that Harry and I tried our best to work out. We almost failed and for a moment, we thought Harry died. It was down to pure luck that we won in the end, and the fact Neville is surprisingly good with a sword…"

This was the second time Ron had mentioned this war and she couldn't help but pry further. "Tell me about the war, it sounds awful."

"Well, it's a bit of a story…" He removed his hand from her shoulder and tugged his hat further down on his head. "So there once was a Dark Lord called Voldemort, although he used to be called Tom Riddle. He was an awful wizard, not very nice. He tried to kill Harry when he was a baby because of a prophecy he'd overheard one day. Anyway, Harry's parents were killed but because they sacrificed themselves to protect Harry, Harry the baby was protected and Voldemort's killing curse backfired. It didn't kill him, unfortunately, but it made it very tricky for him to do anything and he was forced into hiding. Noticed Harry's scar on his forehead?" He smiled as Hermione nodded.

"That's Voldie's doing… Anyway, skip to 11 years later and Voldemort is back with vengeance. He tried every single year we were in school to kill Harry, but we managed to stop him. It's quite laughable looking back really. This supposed amazing dark wizard – so awful he was compared to Hitler – thwarted by two teenagers and their friends time and time again."

"Who is Hitler?" Hermione frowned.

"Some muggle, it doesn't matter." They made their way up the long drive and down towards the village. "By the end of our 6th year, the threat became too much. Dumbledore discovered Voldemort had been making Horcruxes so started a mission to destroy them but conveniently got ill, leaving Harry and me to deal with the rest of them. We got down to the last one and there was an almighty showdown in May, about 10 years ago now, and Harry finally killed Voldemort. At the end of it all, Dumbledore just comes strolling back to the castle as if nothing happened!"

"Wow…" Hermione raised her eyebrows. "That's… immense. And he was just happy to let children fight the war for him?!"

"Well, there were adults there too. My mum and dad came with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. The Auror department and the ministry workers who were on the good side. The teachers too."

Hermione searched for a response but she was too dumbfounded at Ron's story to answer him again. Her brow furrowed in concentration as they made it to Hogsmeade and she was so distracted by her thoughts, she didn't even notice the changes that had taken place in the village since she'd last been there.

"Dumbledore looked so familiar to me. I could have sworn he was the man who was at the hospital yesterday. Although, I recognised him from before then…"

Ron shrugged as he avoided a shop worker dressed as an elf giving out candy canes. He took a moment to survey the Christmas decorations, realising he hadn't been as annoyed at them as he was yesterday.

"The man gets everywhere; I wouldn't be surprised if he was there you know…"

They were interrupted by the sudden appearance of Harry and Ginny, now with a small child in tow. The child grinned up at Ron, glee in his eyes and flung himself at his legs.

"Hermione, this is James Potter; my favourite nephew!" Ron started to tickle the boy, who erupted into fits of giggles. He was obviously very good with kids and watching how he interacted with him distracted Hermione from her troubling thoughts.

"We can't stay long, we just picked up this pain in the backside from his grandparents and we just needed to pick up a few last-minute things before S-A-N-T-A comes tomorrow night!" Harry laughed as he took his now squirming son back from Ron. "Your mum told us to remind you about the dinner tomorrow. We'll see you there, yeah?" The small family left as quickly as they appeared, leaving Ron groaning in despair.

"I fucking forgot about the bloody dinner!"

Hermione flinched when she heard Ron use the vulgar f-word; appalled to hear it used so casually. She tried her best to regain her composure, reminding herself that if fashion was different in this time, then maybe language had progressed too.

"What dinner?"

"The Minister for Magic holds a Christmas Eve dinner every year to benefit the funds that are helping Wizards and Witches most affected by the war you know, orphaned children, people who lost loved ones or their homes or just anyone who may be struggling at the moment. The muggle economic downturn is really affecting us too. Mum likes to get the whole family involved and I was supposed to be providing the bloody dessert…"

Hermione watched him thoughtfully. The Weasley family definitely sounded lovely and Ron had been really helpful already. She was keen to do what she could to help them out and she really wanted to meet the rest of his family, especially his parents. They seemed like truly a heroic couple.

"Well, it's lucky you ran into someone good at reading a recipe. And I happen to be a dab hand at baking too! Come on, let's go!"

She surprised Ron by taking hold of his hand and starting to pull him back towards the apparition point. He let her guide him, focussing on the pleasant feeling of how her hand fitted in his and tried to push the ridiculous notion that they were made for each other out of his head; stuff like that only happened in movies, after all.