Thanks to all who reviewed! Much appreciated! Here is Chapter 7. Not that long, I'm afraid. The next chapter will be though - so keep on reading!
Ron was half singing as he walked down the sunny path to his home, holding his signed contract in his hands. It was warm, and he felt as if the world was on his side, willing him on. He had made an appointment with Harry this morning, and he and Ginny would be arriving in the evening for supper.
He was excited to get back home and tell Hermione the good news, excited to see her face, and to kiss the smile on her lips. He approached the front door and rumbled for the house keys, one thing he couldn't appreciate living in a Muggle suburb, but it was what Hermione had wanted, what Hermione had always dreamed of. He supposed waking to the sound of the birds in the garden, and watering the roses in the flower-bed was a something he could accustom to, just as long as it didn't mean competing with their neighbours for a better lawn.
He opened the latch to the front door and stepped inside, his ears prying for the sound of a kettle boiling, signaling Hermione's early return from her interview. But all was silent. He sighed, put down his coat and bag and walked into the kitchen. There was the half-empty cup of coffee he prepared for her in the morning, his scribbled note, and her make-up bag sprawled across the table. Ron smiled. Hermione had been in a rush; she must've overslept.
He cleared the table, and washed the dishes with his wand, and started to make dinner. A classic dinner for four, he thought to himself. He busied himself around the kitchen, baking and steaming, whilst occasionally peering to read instructions on "Molly's Kitchen Wonders" – his mother had become famous after her first appearance on "Chef's Night for Wizards" and her debut recipe book had been given to all of her children as a gift. Tonight will be a special night, he smiled, as he cleaned the wine-glasses with his wand and laid them perfectly onto the white linen cloth. He boiled the potatoes and roasted the chicken, and added seasoning to taste. Then he iced the drinks and prepared the lemon sundae, the special desert Hermione had asked for. Now all he needed to do was wait. And waiting was not something he was incredibly skilled at.
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Ron glanced at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall. It read seven o'clock. Hermione should have returned half-an-hour ago. Harry and Ginny had already arrived and were playing chess with Ron's giant chessboard.
"Do you think something happened?" Ron asked anxiously.
"Ron – please. What could have happened?" Ginny said.
"I dunno. Maybe she…" Ron was cut off. He couldn't even begin to think of the possibilities.
"Ron. It's probably the traffic; you know how it is these days, after your father set the Decree of Disapparition. It's only been half-an-hour, if you just wait a few more moments and be patient!" Harry retorted.
Ron hung his head. But he couldn't get the pictures of Hermione out of his head.
"You really love her, don't you?" Ginny asked him.
Ron glanced up, "What? Yeah, yeah, I do."
"Then she'll find her own way back, you'll see." Ginny said to him. The understanding in her eyes caused him to look away.
"What do you mean?"
"If you love someone, Ron, and I mean really love someone, they feel it. Right here." Ginny pointed to her heart, and glanced at Harry, "And that is how you know it's never going to mean the end. Love carries on, no matter what happens."
"Look, Ginny, it's been half-an-hour, and you and Ron have started to talk crazy – it's just traffic, what else could it be?" Harry said, bewildered.
Ron stared at him, "What else? It's Malfoy, that's what else."