A/N- I'm so sorry for how long its taken to get this thing out. To be truthful there were alot of complications, school, writters block, life, and well simply hating the original chapter. So basicaly this has been re written about three times. Please enjoy.

P.S.- Thank you to all my reviewers I really do appriciate them so much and I appriciate the non-flaming-ness even more. It makes me very happy.

Return From Exile

Chapter 4

Unfamiliar Ceiling

Her eyes opened once again to the unfamiliar ceiling that was Ron's old room. A sigh escaped her lips as she thought back to the comment that slipped from Charlie as he was lost in thought. He probably had only said it to make her feel better, he had never seen her as more than a sister, or his brothers best friend, she could never tell which. Something though, something small and unidentifiable rationalized that his recent actions seemed much to friendly to be on such platonic terms. She cast a look out the window into the luscious sunrise, there wasn't any pollution or any tall buildings to obstruct the view as there are in London. Her mind wandered back to waking up to the beautiful sunrises when she was younger, more innocent. The smell of breakfast quickly pulled her out of her little skip down memory lane. She yawned, stretched, grabbed a some jeans, a sweater, and of course knickers, then proceeded to cast the last dregs of sleep away as she changed.

After finishing her morning routine Hermione made her way cautiously down to the lower level of the Weasley household. Her mind was still on the seemingly asinine and completely random comment from one Charlie Weasley. Peeking into the kitchen she noticed Charlie, not Molly standing by the stove using his hands instead or magic to make eggs and bacon. The air was unnervingly tense between the two as he made a gesture for her to sit down. "Mum and dad have gone out to Diagon Alley today," he started, "so its just the two of us till later" the man finished as he piled eggs onto a plate for her. Her mind worked over time at his last comment.

"Later?" she questioned, her eyes pleading to him to not tell her that everyone was coming to see her, they simply couldn't know. She wasn't ready for them all, not after running away so quickly. His head hung low as he gave a defeated sigh.

"I've asked Bill to come over, you've seemed troubled and I know he and you were close, I also thought that it wouldn't hurt for one more person to know you were here, there all going to find out anyway" he said simply, the second he finished his near monologue he dived into his food with a new vigor, not quite as inhuman as Ron would have but not as delicately as she did. She nodded at the response, partly in agreement, mostly in reassurance that she could handle seeing Bill. Oh how she hoped that he understood her reasons for leaving. Sure the man was her rock, but she never told him about her desire to live simply. All of that was ruined by one Charlie Weasley. Strangely she felt happy to be home, her life seemed to have become hollow, and she knew it was because she knew who her real family was. The Weasleys, Harry, Luna, god even Fleur, they were all her family, she needed them as much as the next person.

"Alright" she started "Charlie, what did you mean last night?" the glimmer of hope that resided in his eyes promptly fell at that comment, he had obviously been praying that she had forgotten the silly string of words when she had drifted off into the land of Morpheous.

"Simple," he started as he stood up and walked to the sink, " you are beautiful, I used to glance at you when you were younger, not much younger, nineteen I suppose, and I always noticed your insecurities about your looks, the fact that you never believed in yourself, your beautiful. Inside and out." he finished easily as he placed his dishes into the sink and walked out of the room. "I'll be back in a bit, I need to head out to the bookshop real quick" he added leaving the stunned Hermione behind. All those years she had been watching him he had been watching her. She told herself it was nothing when she was younger, that it was just intrigue with the quietest Weasley man, but she knew different. She always knew, since that one morning all those years ago that there was something vastly different about Charlie Weasley.

It was like any other morning, excluding the fact that it wasn't like any other morning. Two nights before Hermione had watched as her parents were tortured to death by Nott, who thankfully had been apprehended moments after the aurors arrived and sent to Azkaban. She looked on helplessly as he leered at them for being "lesser" than him. Hermione had struggled against her binds but the death eaters spell had been to powerful to break with strength of mind alone. The dreadful green light flashed and before her parents knew what had happened they hit the ground with their eyes glassy and their faces surprised. The experience left her quiet, withdrawn, and treated like glass. It was on that second morning, after waking up to an unfamiliar ceiling that it happened. The adults seemed to skit around her uselessly sending pitying looks her way and her friends were at a loss of what could honestly help. It was then that he had silently slid into her room. He sat by her bed as she stared listlessly at the ceiling contemplating everything. He didn't say anything, not a word, and there was never a single glance of worry or sorrow. He just tilted his head up and stared with her. After awhile he finally spoke. "Ceilings bring out the best and worst thoughts possible, its like a blank canvas, you have nothing to look at so you begin to think. Lots of thoughts pop up. Mostly things that have been on your mind for a while, sometimes things you never knew you had known. For instance while I stared I thought about making a product for Fred and George, I've never thought that before" She nearly laughed at the comment. It sounded so much like something Dumbledore would have said if he was still alive. She gave him a look of curiosity and tilted her head back up to the ceiling. He continued on with his monologue almost needlessly, "The best part is the fact that it simply listens." As it was previously stated it was almost needless to continue, but the fact that he did continue helped more than not, for an hour late the two sat in the same position. Charlie simply listening as Hermione let it all out.

Never had she felt better to talk to an unfamiliar ceiling than at that moment.