George returned that night for dinner.

"How was the shop?" his father asked.

"Awful," George said. "Like Percy's flat everything is broken, stolen, or graffitied. They did everything short of burning the place down."

"What happened to the Pygmy Puffs?" Ginny asked. Her own beloved Arnold was asleep on her bed upstairs.

"We took them out here and released them where we caught the first few we used to breed them. Hopefully, they integrated back into the colony."

"I hope so," Ginny said.

"We can come help you clean up tomorrow," Ron said.

"I'm sure Fleur would come too," Hermione said.

"And Bill and Percy will come after work," Ginny said.

George nodded. "That'd be great. So much needs to be done, but I can't do anything until the place is cleaned up and repaired."

"Then we'll start tomorrow," Ron said.

"I'll send Fleur a note after dinner," Hermione said, "if Pig can take it."

"Sure," Ron said, smiling at her.

"I spent most of the day, cleaning out the Floo connection," George said. "But, that's how I got home, so it's working now."

xXx

The next morning, everyone was up early for breakfast, and when they were done, they all took the Floo to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley.

Ron was shocked at the state of the shop. George hadn't exaggerated. Even though the previous day, George had cleared out anything that was beyond repair before working on the Floo, everything left in the shop was broken, ruined, or covered in Death Eater propaganda. They all pulled their wands and went to work. A few minutes later, Fleur arrived to pitch in. She and Hermione worked on removing the graffiti. Ron and Harry set about repairing the displays, while George and Ginny began cleaning up spilled products that were all over the floor.

At lunchtime, George and Ron went down the street and brought back bags of Cornish pasties and butter beer. While they were all sitting around eating, Ginny asked, "How does the flat upstairs look?"

George shook his head. "I haven't even been up there yet. I wanted to get this place sorted before I dealt with that."

"Sure," Ron said. "Makes sense. Always smart to mind the money first."

"Right," George said solemnly.

Ron felt like George probably didn't want to go into the flat for much the same reason that Hermione didn't want to go inside her parents' house. The finality of the empty space was more than he could bear right now.

After lunch, they continued working. At six o'clock, Percy showed up to help, followed a few minutes later by Bill. By eight o'clock, the shop looked much better.

"So tomorrow," George said, "I'll get some paint and we can spruce up the place now that everything is clean and fixed."

"Sounds good," Ginny said.

"Shouldn't take long," Fleur said.

"Right, and then I just need to start making products to sell," George said. "Once I've got some money coming in, I can order the stuff I don't make myself."

"We can help with that," Hermione said.

"That's okay," George said. "Angelina was helping with the books before. She said she'd help me with the purchase orders when I'm ready."

xXx

The next day, they all returned to the shop to paint and decorate. Magic made quick work of it, so they were done by lunchtime. As they were taking turns getting into the fireplace to return to the Burrow, George said to Ron, "Can I have a word?"

Ron turned around, "Sure."

When everyone else had left, George said, "I wanted to talk to you about working with me on some of the products."

"Okay," Ron said.

"You seem pretty good with charms," George said. "A lot of the products require two people to cast them. I was wondering if you'd be willing to learn how do that."

"Yeah, sure," Ron said. "Should I ask—"

"Just you," George said. "These are proprietary spells. They're not for everyone. You learn to do them, but you don't teach them to anyone else. Understand. No one."

"Oh, right, yeah, of course," Ron said, nodding.

"I reckon that the biggest challenge will be getting in sync. Fred and I sort of did that naturally," George said. "But I've watched you casting charms around the farm and I figure you're up to the task."

Ron nodded. "Thanks. I'll do my best."

George clapped him on the shoulder. "I know you will."

xXx

Hermione was unprepared for Ron's lengthy absence every day. He and George left every morning right after breakfast and often didn't return until long after dinner. Ron was generally so exhausted from performing complex charms every day that the only time he and Hermione had together was at breakfast and when she joined him and George for the late dinner his mother had left for them.

She spent her days revising. She'd started with Ancient Runes, but quickly realized she needn't bother too much. She was fluent, so she spent a little time each day on grammar, but didn't worry about vocabulary. She'd moved on to the Standard Book of Spells: Year 7 and was working her way through it, but she wasn't worried about her Charms exam either. She didn't bother with Defense Against the Dark Arts. She knew she was far ahead of the seventh-year curriculum for that. There wasn't an advanced Arithmancy book in the house and she hadn't brought any with her when they were fugitives. It didn't seem a practical necessity for being on the lam. Since the Gringott's situation still wasn't resolved and she hadn't gotten a letter from McGonagall yet, she didn't want to buy one, so instead she focused on what was at the house. She managed to find a seventh year Transfiguration text, so she started working through the magical theory in that. She knew she had the practical magic down. It was the essays on theory she had to worry about.

Of course, there was only so much revising even she could do. Days began early with breakfast, which was another brief few minutes of contact with Ron. Then she, Harry, and Ginny split the farm chores. Ginny still wasn't supposed to use magic outside of school, but Harry and Hermione had no such restrictions. While Ginny milked the cow, fed the chickens, and collected eggs, Harry and Hermione did the rest of the chores. Thanks to the return of Crookshanks there was no need to de-gnome the garden anymore, so chores rarely took more than an hour. The rest of the day was open. She didn't want to intrude on Harry and Ginny's time together, so she generally went for a long walk after chores while they took their brooms and went out. They all had lunch together and then sometimes Harry and Ginny would go for a swim or a walk while she revised. If it was raining, they would sometimes all play games or she would revise and Harry and Ginny would read together, the same book, at the same time. Hermione couldn't imagine doing that with anyone and she thought it was a little weird that they did it, but of course, she didn't say anything. Once a week, the three of them helped Luna get the Quibbler out. Mr. Lovegood was doing a lot better, but Luna still carried a lot of the workload for getting the paper printed and distributed and she was grateful for their help. Hermione was grateful for the change of pace.

For the most part, Hermione felt lonely and at loose ends. She missed Ron. She missed talking to people who didn't live at the Burrow. She missed the city. Country life, as bucolic as it might be, just wasn't for her. Increasingly, she thought of going to Australia to check on her parents and what it would take to make that happen.

xXx

Ginny and Hermione were at the Rook helping Luna get the Quibbler laid out. Ginny had just handed Hermione an article about a recent Snorkack sighting for the front page. She knew the feature would drive Hermione around the bend when she saw it. Hermione shook her head at the ridiculous article. The person who had seen the Crumple-horned creature admitted to being very drunk at the time and yet, Mr. Lovegood insisted that it was a front-page story. Hermione sighed and used her wand to cram the story into the lower left corner of the front page.

"Oh, no!" Mr. Lovegood said, looking over her shoulder. "Such important news has to be above the fold, my dear."

Ginny bit back a smile as Hermione's eye twitched.

"Okay," Hermione said. "I think I need some air. I'm going to step out for a tic."

"Good idea," Mr. Lovegood said. "Fresh air clears the mind and chases off Eye Digglers, they cause twitches around the eyes, you know."

Ginny saw Hermione's jaw clench as she nodded with a tight-lipped smile at Mr. Lovegood before stepping out of the front door.

Mr. Lovegood looked at his watch. "Ah, Luna, I must go. I have an appointment in Diagon Alley. Are you alright to finish up here?"

"Of course, Daddy," Luna said. Her father leaned over and kissed the top of her head. "I'll be back in a few hours. I'm going to do some shopping after my meeting."

"Alright," Luna said in that airy way of hers that always made Ginny wonder if Luna was really listening.

When Mr. Lovegood was gone and it was just the two of them in the house, Luna turned to Ginny and said. "Daddy irritates Hermione."

Ginny shrugged, thinking it best not to get into it. Mr. Lovegood did irritate Hermione, but he irritated a lot of people, so it wasn't really fair to dump all that on Hermione.

"Daddy is very excited about the impossible," Luna continued. "Hermione seems very rooted in the probable."

Ginny nodded. "I think that's a fair assessment."

"I noticed she's wearing a scarf now instead of a plaster. I guess her neck finally healed."

"Yeah," Ginny said.

"It took a long time," Luna said.

"I guess you saw it right after it happened." Ginny said.

"Yes," Luna said. "She looked very bad when Ron brought her into the cottage."

"What happened?" Ginny asked. She'd asked Harry to tell her, but he hadn't said much. Neither had Ron or Hermione. Ginny knew someone had cut Hermione's throat and she knew Hermione had nightmares, but that was about the extent of it. She hadn't thought to ask Luna until just now.

"I wasn't there for all of it because I was being held in the cellar. There was a lot of shouting from upstairs and then Ron and Harry and Griphook got thrown in with Mr. Ollivander and me."

"In a cellar where? What about Hermione? Where was she?" Ginny asked.

"Malfoy Manor. They kept her upstairs. Bellatrix wanted to know where they got the sword of Gryffindor. She cast Crucio and Hermione started screaming and Ron sort of lost it. Harry too, but not as bad as Ron. It was awful to hear her like that and not be able to do anything."

Ginny nodded and said. "She still has nightmares."

"She had those at Shell Cottage too. They seemed quite awful. I'm not sure what all happened to her, but when Ron levitated her into the house she was unconscious and bloody and covered in broken glass."

"Broken glass?" Ginny said. "From what?"

"I'm not sure. Ron and Harry were really upset so I didn't ask for details and Hermione never wanted to talk about it when she would wake from a nightmare."

"No," Ginny said. "She still doesn't.

They could hear Hermione come back in, so they stopped talking and continued laying out the paper.

"Alright," Hermione said, resuming her seat at the table. "I guess I'll put this above the fold then."

Luna and Ginny looked at her sympathetically.

Hermione looked back at them, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. "It's not that bad," she said.

Ginny smiled. "I guess not."

"No," Luna said airily.

xXx

Ron was knackered. He'd never realized how complicated the magic was behind Fred and George's products. The first two weeks were spent learning how to synchronously cast with George. After he'd finally mastered that, the following week was spent learning spells and creating products. Making everything took a tremendous amount of time and magic. At least George was tracking his time. He promised to pay him when the shop reopened. George had to spend money on ingredients for the joke snacks and other consumables, but he'd given Ron ten galleons as a kind of stipend to make up for the long hours. Ron kept a couple of Galleons for walking around money and put the rest of it in the box with Hermione's letters under the loose floor board in his room, exactly where he'd kept what little money he'd had as a child.

He missed Hermione. Despite the fact that they were living under the same roof, he rarely saw her. They talked briefly at breakfast or when he came in exhausted late at night. After three weeks of non-stop work, despite being nearly dead on his feet, he asked her if she wanted to take a walk after he'd finished his reheated dinner.

"Sure," she said with a broad smile that made his heart soar. They went out into the garden and walked down to the pond. Ron stepped up on to the gazebo and leaned down with his forearms on the railing and watched the moonlight play on the water. He was bone-tired. Hermione stood next to him with her hands on the rail.

"Nice night," Ron said.

"Yes," Hermione agreed. "We've had so much rain, it's nice to get a break in the weather."

"Yeah," Ron said, although he'd barely noticed the weather lately. He yawned deeply.

"You're tired," she said quietly. "You should get some sleep. You're working crazy hours."

"I know," Ron said. "I'm sorry I haven't been around."

"Don't be," Hermione said. "George needs your help. He trusts you and clearly you were the right choice, which isn't surprising, your charm work is excellent."

He smiled at her. He hadn't realized she'd noticed. "Thanks for understanding."

She sighed. "To be honest, I'm kind of jealous."

"Jealous?" he chuckled. "That I'm working in a joke shop? You?"

"Jealous that you're working anywhere. Jealous that you get to go to London every day. Really jealous that you're learning new magic," she said without looking at him.

"Hey, things will get going for you soon enough," he said. "You just have to be patient."

"I know. Patience isn't really my strong suit though. I feel like I'm just running in place. I'm guessing at what I should be revising. I need some guidance in that regard, but I can't contact the professors until I get the letter."

"I'm sure the letters will come out soon. Have you talked to McGonagall about whether she'll refund your room and board?"

"No. I was waiting on the letter to come first, but maybe I shouldn't. All I have is Muggle money right now. I want to pick up a few things but I'd have to have an intermediary go to the bank to do a currency exchange for me. I just hate to ask anyone."

"If you need money," Ron said. "I do have some."

Hermione shook her head. "I can't take your money."

"Are you serious?" Ron said. "You paid to feed me for months. You can absolutely take my money."

Hermione shook her head. "That was different. Those were necessities. I don't really need anything."

Ron stood and turned to her. "Then what do you want? I owe you. I owe you big time. Harry and I both do."

"You don't owe me anything."

He yawned again.

"Come on," Hermione said. "Let's go back. You need sleep."

He was too tired to argue.

xXx

The next morning, after Ron took a shower and got dressed for work, he noticed his pants were too short. Sighing he went downstairs. His mother was in the kitchen making breakfast. Hermione was writing a letter at the table.

"Mum," Ron said. "Could you let the hem out on my trousers. They're all too short."

His mother turned around. "Let me see."

Ron put his foot up on the bench at the table and his mother leaned over to inspect the hem of his trousers.

"I can lower them one more time, but then you're going to need new ones. Stop growing."

Ron smiled. "It's your fault for marrying into a tall family Mum."

She shook her head at him good-naturedly. "Charlie, Fred and George had the decency to be human scale."

"Reckon I got Dad's troll blood then, Mum," Ron said.

She turned around and flipped the bacon. "Take those off," she said. "I can fix the hem now. I'll do the others later."

Ron stripped off his trousers.

"Ron!" Hermione said.

"Good heavens, Ron," his mother said. "I didn't mean right here."

"Well it's not as though I'm naked," Ron grumbled. "I've got my boxers on."

"Hermione, could you take over breakfast?" his mother said. "Apparently, I have to take care of this right now."

"Sure," Hermione said.

Ron sat down at the table while his mother cast the spell to take the hem out of both legs of his trousers. He noticed the quill Hermione had been writing with was quite tatty. He wondered if new quills were something she wanted. In school, she was always picky about her quills. She only used magpie feathers. They weren't ostentatious like a peacock feather or anything, but they were different, compact, black and white, and expensive. When they started to get worn she replaced them. She also liked walnut ink instead of regular iron gall ink like the other students used. He'd never understood all the fuss. Any quill that would write worked for him and any ink would do as well. His mum and dad had always bought the cheapest goose feather quills in bulk along with generic iron gall ink, and that had always been fine by him. Still, he knew Hermione cared about those things, and for most of the last year she'd been making do without complaint. He'd have to try and get to Scrivenshaft's one day soon.

"Alright," his mother said, interrupting his musings. "Try them now."

Ron pulled his trousers back on. "Much better," he said. "Thanks Mum."

"The bacon's done," Hermione said.

"Good, I'll get the eggs started then," his mother said and returned to the cooker.

Hermione resumed her seat and picked up the tatty quill.

"Who are you writing then?" Ron asked as he put on his shoes.

"Viktor," Hermione said, without looking up.

"Viktor? What are you writing him for?" All plans for buying her a new quill and a bottle of ink went up like smoke.

"The last time he saw me was at the wedding. Apparently, he tried writing right after, but of course, there was no response. Then he saw the news. I was mentioned in an article he read recently, so he tried again. I'm responding."

"What does he want?" Ron said, trying to tone down the jealousy he felt welling up inside him.

She looked up at him. "He was just asking after me. He'd feared the worst."

"Well, you can't tell him anything," Ron said, in what he realized after he'd said it, was a very accusatory tone.

"I know that," Hermione said, her eyes flashing with irritation. "What do you take me for?"

"I don't understand why you're writing him at all," Ron said, not even trying to disguise the anger in his voice.

"Common decency. A friend asked after me. I'm replying," Hermione said hotly.

"Friend? He doesn't want to be your friend," Ron scoffed. "At the wedding, he asked Harry if you were seeing anyone. That's not a friendly thing to ask."

Hermione didn't respond. Instead, she stood, grabbed her things from the table, and stormed back upstairs.

"What kind of eighteen-year-old runs around with a fifteen-year-old girl anyway?" Ron shouted after her. "Have you asked yourself that? Bloody perv!"

"Ronald," his mother gasped.

"I'm going to work," Ron shouted and threw some Floo powder in the fireplace and was gone.

xXx

"What's all the shouting about?" Arthur said as he came into the kitchen followed by Harry a moment later.

Molly was putting a platter of bacon and eggs on the table. "Ron and Hermione had a blazing row over Viktor Krum," she said quietly.

"What?" Harry said. "That's long over."

"What is?" Ginny said, coming into the kitchen.

"Viktor and Hermione," Harry answered.

"Well, they were shouting about him," Molly said.

"That explains why she's upstairs pacing and muttering expletives," Ginny said.

"I don't understand," Harry said.

Molly sighed. "A letter arrived in the post this morning from Viktor asking after her and she was replying. Ron did not approve."

"Well, that's ridiculous," Ginny said, "What was she supposed to do? Ignore it? And it's not like she was hiding it, if she was answering it right here at the kitchen table."

"Maybe she should have hidden it. Nothing sets off Ron like Viktor," Harry said.

Ginny snorted. "He needs to get over it. They were together almost four years ago. What's wrong with him?"

"What's wrong with who?" George said as he walked into the kitchen.

Ginny recapped the situation for him.

"What a load of bollocks," George said. "I don't need this today. We're supposed to be making Ton Tongue Toffee. It's very tricky. I need him concentrating."

"I'm sure he'll calm down," Arthur said as he finished his eggs. "I'm off to work." He leaned over and kissed his wife before stepping into the fireplace.

Harry shook his head. "Obviously, your dad has never seen how long Ron can be angry about this."

"How long?" George said with some alarm.

"Well, when she was actually dating Viktor, Ron was furious for months. Since then, he can hold on to it for a few days, sometimes a week or more if it's a really big row." He looked at Mrs. Weasley. "How did it end?"

"What, dear?" she asked.

"The row, how did it end?"

"Well," she thought about it. "Ron said something about Viktor not wanting to be just friends and then Hermione took her things and went upstairs and he shouted after her something about eighteen-year-olds who date fifteen-year-olds being pervs."

"Oh," Harry said. "That's bad." He looked at George. "This could go on for a while. You should plan on at least a week."

George got up from the table. "That's just bloody fantastic." he said sarcastically. He threw Floo powder into the fireplace and swirled away in a torrent of green flame.

xXx

That night, for the first time since he'd started working with George, Hermione was not waiting for Ron when he got back to the Burrow. He and George reheated their own dinners and sat silently at the kitchen table eating before going up to bed. The light was off in Ginny's room when Ron walked past on his way upstairs.

The next morning, Hermione didn't come down for breakfast before he had to leave to go to the shop. He told himself he didn't care, that if she was going to be so disloyal as to write to the likes of Viktor Krum, he couldn't be bothered to have breakfast with her anyway. Unfortunately, he was having a hard time concentrating at the shop.

xXx

On the third day, George had had enough. "Bloody hell, Ron! Go fix it."

"What?" Ron said, rolling his wand between his fingers.

"Go fix the situation with Hermione. You're bloody useless here."

"I'm fine," Ron said. "Seriously, I'm fine. Let's just try again."

George frowned. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," Ron said. He tried to clear his head and focus on the task at hand.

They were especially late getting home that night. Once again, Hermione wasn't there to greet them. Ron sighed and got their dinner plates from the icebox. He handed George his and cast a warming charm on his own and then poured them both a glass of pumpkin juice. George took his and sat down.

"You know," George said. "Summer Solstice is coming up."

"Yeah, what of it," Ron said and shoveled mushy peas in his mouth.

"I'm planning on taking a half day on the Solstice and then the rest of the week off."

"Yeah," Ron said. "That sounds good. We've been killing ourselves."

"I know," George said. "And I really appreciate all your hard work, but I think I've got enough products to reopen. If you're willing to come out occasionally and help me restock, I'd really appreciate it."

"Sure," Ron said. "I guess you won't be needing me every day anymore then."

"No," George said. "I think I'll be running the place on my own until it's really earning again. I'll pay you for your time though as soon as I have the money."

Ron nodded. "I appreciate that."

"Are you going to the party?" George asked.

Ron shrugged. "Dunno."

"Come on, have you ever been to a Solstice party?"

Ron frowned. "You know I haven't. They're age restricted and I could hardly have gone last year."

"Right," George said. "Well, it's a very good time. The big one is at White Moor Stone Circle in Dartmoor. We let the Muggles use the old one but the one we keep hidden is spectacular. You should go and take Hermione."

"Well," Ron grumbled. "I don't know about that."

"You should ask her," George said, getting up from the table. "Before someone else does."

Ron thought about that. Who else was going to ask her? There wasn't anyone else around, but then he remembered Viktor's letter and wondered if that Bulgarian git was planning on being in England for the Solstice. He frowned and went upstairs. There was light coming from under the door to Bill's old room, so Ron knocked on the door. Harry answered.

"Hey," Ron said.

"Hi,"

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," Harry said, stepping back.

Ron walked over and looked out the window. Crookshanks was stalking a gnome in the garden. "So," he said without turning around. "Hermione wasn't at breakfast this morning."

Harry didn't say anything.

"And she hasn't been having dinner with us either."

Harry waited.

"Is she just avoiding me or is she also not eating?" Ron finally asked.

"She takes her meals with the family," Harry said.

"She's eating then?" Ron asked.

"Some," Harry said. "If you're so concerned, you should talk to her."

Ron sidestepped the suggestion and said, "Are you and Ginny going to the Solstice party?"

"You know Gin can't and I'm not going without her."

"Sure, of course," Ron said. "Makes sense."

"Are you going?" Harry asked.

Ron shrugged. "It's supposed to be a good time."

Harry didn't respond.

"Do you know if Hermione is planning on going?"

"You'd have to ask her that," Harry said, frowning.

"Right," Ron said. "Goodnight then."

"Night," Harry said.

xXx

The next morning at breakfast, Hermione still hadn't come down and it was time for Ron and George to go to work. His father had already left. Harry was at the table and Ginny had just walked into the kitchen. Molly was fixing another pot of tea.

"It's time," George said, rising from the table. He looked at Ron who stayed seated.

"I'm going to be in a bit late," Ron said.

George nodded. "Alright then." He stepped into the fireplace and was gone.

Everyone else at the table exchanged glances.

Ginny took two slices of toast and began making a sandwich with eggs and bacon. Harry poured another cup of tea for himself and one for her. They both rose from the table.

"It's such a lovely morning," Harry said.

"I fancy eating in the garden," Ginny said.

Hermione could be heard coming downstairs.

His mother poured herself another cup of tea. "I have sewing to do." She passed Hermione in the entrance to the kitchen.

Hermione paused in the doorway for a moment when she saw Ron sitting alone at the table. He could see the moment when she braced herself and then came into the room. He felt like an enormous prat. She poured herself a cup of tea and then surprised him by taking her regular seat next to him instead of sitting across from him. He looked at her, but she sipped her tea and didn't say anything or look at him.

Ron swallowed hard. She was better at this than he was. By not sitting across from him, she'd upset the dynamic of him on one side and her on the other. In a very easy move, she'd made it clear she wasn't interested in fighting. She was never this good on a chessboard, but she certainly understood the fundamentals of strategy. Without looking at him, she slipped an envelope out of her dressing gown pocket and slid it in front of him.

He stared at it. Viktor's thick, bold script spelled out her name and the address of the Burrow. Part of him really wanted to read it, to see what that Bulgarian git was saying to her, but he knew that was the wrong move. He slid the letter back to her. "I don't need to read that," he said.

"Would you have preferred it if I hadn't told you?" she asked quietly.

"No," Ron said. It was impossible to hide anything at the Burrow, and if she'd tried, that would have been so much worse.

"I don't understand the rules," she said. "I don't know what we are. I don't know what you want."

He wanted to keep her all to himself. He never wanted her to leave this farm again, so she wouldn't see how many men out there were going to be better than him, how many men were going to want her. Inevitably, she would prefer one of them to him, he was sure of it. Viktor was probably just the first of many, but it's not like there was anything he could do about that. "I don't either," he said.

"Fine," she said with an exasperated sigh.

"Hermione?"

She looked at him.

"Summer Solstice is on Sunday. Will you go with me to Dartmoor? There's a big party at the real White Moor Stone Circle."

She cocked her head at him. "Alright. But—"

"Good," he said, getting up. "I should get to work."

"But—" she said again. He was already gone.