Dream On
By Siriusly Amused

Author's Note: So I'm still under the weather. I've had this cough since mid to late July and snuffy nose since last week. The cough started out slight, a mild annoyance, then got really bad early/mid August and is now back to just slight. I didn't have any other symptoms until the beginning of last week when my nose and head kicked in. It was horrible! I'm glad to say that I'm, for the most part, much better than what I was last week, but I'm still not 100 better. Not even 90. 85 maybe. My mom says allergies, but I'm thinking sinus infection. I should have gone to the doctor ages ago, but I hate doctors. So, those of you who pray, please pray for me to get better. I can't write good stuff when I'm not feeling slightly like myself. In fic news: This is a long chapter (compared to the others) and chapter 4 is proving to be even longer. I'm not completely done with Chapter four, but I'd say I'm 80 done. ((What the hell is up with me and percents tonight?)) Hopefully I'll be able to finish it by next Wednesday. I can pretty much say that it will most likely be done on time as long as my cold/allergy/sinus infection/rare disease doesn't get worse. As a matter of fact, if I get a speedy recovery (wink, wink) I may be able to finish chapter five before it's deadline. Someone asked me if I had an estimate for how long this fic will be and my answer is that I honestly don't know. I don't really have it planed out, I just have ideas. I don't think that it will be a terribly long fic. 10-11 chapters at most, possibly less. Well enough of my rambling and complaining. You guys want to read--especially you R/Hr shippers because there's definitely some R/Hr in this chapter!

Disclaimer: Does anyone read disclaimers anyway?

Chapter Three
All the roads we have to walk are winding, and all the lights that lead us there are blinding…There are so many things that I would like to say to you, but I don't know how. -'Wonderwall' by Oasis

Seven Years Later:

"We've been over this before, Ronald! I go to work earlier!"

"Yes, but I shower faster, Mione!"

"Would you please quit calling me 'Mione'? We've just met last week for goodness sake!"

Twenty five-year-old Ron Weasley winced and pressed his lips together in a frustrated manner. He did not understand why the nickname slipped so easily from his lips, but ever since he met the vociferous young woman, he found that he could not help himself to using the shortened form of her name, even though they weren't completely familiar with each other as of yet. Taking several calming breaths, for his temper was dangerously close to its boiling point, Ron mused over how the woman had came to live in his apartment.

Shortly after his minor car accident back when he was eighteen, Ron and Fred had moved out of Bill's home and into this apartment. The apartment was exceedingly nice thanks to Fred's booming business. The kitchen was a fairly good size, the living room quite comfy, and the apartment even had two bedrooms, though only one bathroom. Fred had insisted upon paying the whole rent himself seeing as Ron was putting himself through college. Ron had always been uneasy about his brother paying his rent, but Fred would continually refuse whatever money Ron handed him.

The two brothers lived quite peacefully in their apartment seeing as neither one of them cared much for cleanliness or rules. And then Fred, merely a month ago, announced that he was going to move in with his fiancé, Angelina, leaving Ron alone in the apartment. Ron had just gotten out of law school, and even though he had a job at a respectable firm, he was still paying off his loans and didn't fancy paying the rent in full. Nor did he fancy moving into a cheaper apartment. So Ron did the only thing he could think of: He put out an advertisement for a roommate.

The people who answered his advertisement were complete nutcases. Many of them dressed in unusual clothes that Ron could only describe as robes, and each of them possessed what seemed like a near fascination with Ron himself. Five of them shook his hand no less than twenty times.

Finally, Hermione Granger walked through his door and Ron had issued a sigh of relief. She was dressed in cream-colored pants, a light blue sweater, and a long, white winter coat. Her hair was pulled back into a sensible bun, but the harsh winds had released several wavy locks from the bobbing pins. Those locks fell around her flushed face elegantly as Hermione smiled at him and offered a hand.

Ron had swallowed a lump in his throat and pondered whether taking this woman in was a good idea or not. He only grew more dubious when he accepted her hand and felt a slight electrical shock upon his fingertips. A shock that quickly shot up his arm and sent pleasant shivers down his spine.

Hermione wasn't what he considered to be his type, but at the same time, he could not help but feel drawn to her in a way that he had never known. There was just something about her, something familiar and warm. Something that made him feel as though nothing bad could happen to him ever again just as long as she was at his side.

Hermione, it appeared, was thinking something along the same lines as well. She was staring at Ron as he was staring at her, a small smile on her face, her chestnut brown eyes round and shining bright.

After a moment, or two or three, Ron had snapped out of his trance and asked her for her coat. She blinked rapidly, obviously coming out of her own trance, before smiling widely and taking off her coat. Ron set the garment neatly on the back of an armchair and asked her if she wanted some tea. Hermione had accepted gratefully, mentioning something about the chilly, November weather.

Their talk of the weather quickly and smoothly turned to talk of the economy, which manifested into talk of their jobs, which flowed over into coworkers, friends, and family. Finally, when Ron noticed that all that was left of the sun was a thin, gold band behind the city skyline, he began to ask some of the questions he had interviewed with the other appliers.

Like Ron, Hermione had a respectable job (a lab assistant), but she was still paying off her loans and did not wish to move into a cheaper apartment on the rougher side of town. Hermione's history seemed fine. She definitely didn't seem like the raving, murdering lunatic type. The only things that bothered Ron were her attention to detail and rules (he knew that if he let her in, he would find himself having to clean up his messes), and the fact that every time he looked at her, he felt a pleasant, yet shocking, lurch in his stomach. But she was the only one who answered his advertisement who hadn't shown up in robes or seemed to be Ron-a-holic, so Hermione became his roommate.

They ran into problems on the first morning, seeing as they both needed to shower at the same time and neither of them felt much like waking up earlier. The kitchen, which had once felt spacious to Ron, suddenly seemed cramped with them both in it, making their breakfasts and bumping into one another every time they turned around. Ron secretly enjoyed the bumping into one another part, though he wouldn't admit it to Hermione. He would merely mumble a curt apology and continue on with what he was doing.

Ron tried to keep the place clean, but it was never clean enough for Hermione's taste and she was constantly nagging him that the couch was not a place to put ties and plates covered with last night's supper.

Though the arguments grew more and more frequent, Ron couldn't find it in himself to grow tired of Hermione. In actuality, he found himself starting more and more arguments purposefully, just so he could see the passion in her eyes when she yelled at him…

"Ron? Earth to Ron!" Hermione was snapping her fingers in front of Ron's dazed face. Ron shook his head and realized that he and Hermione were still standing outside of the bathroom in their bathrobes, getting nowhere with their argument.

"You can have it first," Ron said at last, adverting his eyes from the collar of Hermione's bathrobe and staring pointedly at the wall behind her.

Hermione blinked, her mouth agape. "Thank you," she said at last, entering the bathroom and closing the door in Ron's face. Ron stared at the door until he heard the water run. Turning in frustration, he returned to his room and threw some pants, a shirt, and a tie on, not caring that he looked slightly scruffy. He couldn't stay around the apartment and listen to the shower run. It was putting inappropriate thoughts into his head.

.x.

Ginny Weasley tipped her chin down slightly so that her scarf would cover more of her face and protect it from the bitter wind. She crossed the busy street briskly, eyeing the popular café on the corner and wanting to reach it's warmth and food as quickly as she could. A young man grinned at her and opened the door for her once she reached the café. Ginny thanked him before walking over to a table where three red-headed men sat.

"There you are, Gin!" Bill greeted brightly, looking up from his soup. "We were starting to wonder if you were going to make it!"

"Yeah," piped in Fred through a mouthful of bread, "as you can see, we've taken the liberty of ordering without you."

Ginny finished removing her coat, gloves, and scarf and smirked at her brothers while she sat down. "Why am I not surprised?" she asked, signaling the waiter over and ordering a bowl of spinach soup, French bread, and a cup of tea.

"Because you know us too well," her last brother, Ron, answered. Ginny smiled at him and playfully punched his arm.

"Busy day, Gin?" Bill inquired, taking a sip from his coffee.

"Not really," Ginny replied as her food was placed before her. "I was just cornered by a coworker on my way out to lunch. He wants to have dinner with me this weekend and simply won't take no for an answer." Ginny glanced up to see both Fred and Bill giving her worried stares; stares that she knew meant that they'll have a talk with her later. Ron, on the other hand, seemed frustrated with her.

"Is this the same bloke who asked you to see a movie last week?" he asked. He even stopped his eating to ask it which is saying a lot for Ron.

"What if he is?" Ginny shot back, testily.

"This poor guy is obviously smitten with you, Ginny! Why don't you give him a chance. One date and if you don't like him, you can call it off and go back to avoiding him."

Ginny gritted her teeth and stared at her soup. "I just don't feel much like dating," she replied.

"You know, Gin your lack of dating makes our job," Ron continued, indicating himself and their brothers, "terribly easy. Now, I'm not saying I want you to be…" he trailed off, "a you know, but that shouldn't dissuade you from dating completely. Your last boyfriend was ages ago and he lasted," Ron paused and chewed on his bread for a moment, deep in thought, "a month. Come to think of that, I've never known you to be really serious with a guy."

Ginny kept her eyes on her soup. She clutched her spoon so tightly that she was sure her knuckles were white. She wanted to scream or cry but knew that she couldn't. It wasn't Ron's fault that he didn't remember Harry.

"So, Ron, how's that new roommate turning out?" Fred asked, noticing Ginny's predicament. "He moved in last week, yeah?"

"Yes, she did," Ron replied, putting a certain amount of emphasis on the word 'she'.

Bill and Fred both broke out in grins.

"It's a she?" Fred asked, giddily.

"Yes, it's a she, what about it?" Ron asked, the tips of his ears turning slightly pink.

"Is she a hottie?" Fred inquired.

"Well, she's pretty, that's for sure, but she's kind of the bookworm type," Ron replied. Ginny saw Fred and Bill exchange glances. Ron went on. "But she's the most normal person who answered my ad. All the others dressed weird and seemed entranced by me."

Fred and Bill really exchanged glances that time. They had been afraid that Ron putting his name in the newspaper would attract local witches and wizards who revered him as they once did Harry.

"What's her name?" Ginny asked, trying to ignore the possibility of Ron having stalkers.

"Hermione Granger," Ron replied.

Fred spat out his hot chocolate, right in Ginny's face.

"Thank you, Fred. That's just what I needed," Ginny said sarcastically, wiping the milk from her face with her napkin. She didn't blame her brother for spitting out his beverage though. She was sure that had she been drinking, she would have spat it out as well. Her mind was reeling.

Ron and Hermione are living together. Ron and Hermione are living together.

Ron, thankfully, didn't see Fred's behavior as odd. Instead, he was glancing at his watch and frowning. "Shit," he said as Ginny reappeared from her napkin. "I've got to get back to work. Who's turn is it to pay?" he asked, glancing around at his siblings while he pulled on his coat and gloves.

"Mine," Fred replied, raising a finger.

"Excellent," Ron commented, throwing down a few notes for a tip. "I'll see you guys tomorrow!" And with a wave of his hand, Ron turned and left the café.

"Well, this is interesting," Fred said after a few minutes of silence. "Ron and Hermione found their way back to each other. You think their memories will come back now?"

"I don't know," answered Bill, shaking his head slightly. "It's been seven years. When Flitwick first performed the charm, I thought it would only be a year or two before he got his memories back. It could take ages for them to remember."

Ginny sighed and finished up her lunch, noticing that Bill was looking downtrodden and that Fred had a mischievous glint in his eyes that Ginny had not seen since before George's death. Bill was the next to leave, saying that he needed to return to the bank before the goblins got angry. Ginny was about to get up as well and leave, but Fred kicked her under the table and gave her a pointed look. She stayed where she was, telling Bill that she wanted to finish her tea before she left. Once Bill was out of the café, Fred leaned in closer to Ginny, the glint still in his blue eyes.

"What do you say we jolt their memories back?" he asked her, a smirk playing across his lips.

Ginny returned the smirk. "What do you have in mind?"

.x.

Ron winced into his pillow. It was undoubtedly late at night; he had been in a very deep sleep, but something had drawn him out of his slumber. A tapping sound. It sounded again, a bit louder this time. Ron distinguished it as a knock on his bedroom door, but he couldn't, for the life of him, think of why someone would be knocking on his door late at night. It sounded again. This time much louder and more rapidly.

Groaning, Ron threw his covers back and stood, walking toward the door groggily. Hermione, her eyes round and frightened, stood outside of it. Ron furrowed his brow in confusion and leaned on his doorframe for support incase he fell back to sleep.

"Hermione, what the hell?" he asked in a low voice.

"Shh!" Hermione whispered, bringing a finger to her lips. "Ron…I…I heard a noise!"

Ron greatly wanted to reply with, 'Yeah, I heard a noise too and it turned out to just be an insane woman banging on my door,' but managed to stop himself. "A noise?" he asked instead, stifling a yawn and hoping to God that it wasn't something stupid like a mouse.

"It was a loud crack, kind of like a gun going off," Hermione replied, in a frantic whisper. "I told myself it was just my imagination, but then I heard it again! Ron, it sounded exactly like a gun!"

"We live in a safe neighborhood, Mione," Ron reasoned.

"You can never be certain!" Hermione replied, not bothering to scold Ron for using a nickname. Ron figured that waking a guy up in the middle of the night to talk about noises in the hallway whilst clad in your pajamas was enough familiarity for Hermione to allow the use of a nickname. "Could you please just…check the apartment?" Hermione asked, gazing at Ron imploringly.

Ron's first instinct was to complain, but then he caught Hermione's eye and felt himself melt. She looked sweet in her pajama bottoms and pink top, her hair falling around her face in a wild mess.

"Alright," Ron agreed, trying to suppress the smile that was threatening to break through. Ron flicked on the hall light and made his way toward the living room, Hermione following very close behind. Ron immediately flicked the living room light on once he came into the room, his blue eyes scanning every corner for an intruder. When he saw none, he ventured into the room, glancing behind furniture and keeping his ears alert for any sound.

It was increasingly difficult for him to concentrate on the task at hand, however, seeing as Hermione remained very close to him, her hand holding on to a bit of the fabric of the back of his shirt for what Ron assumed was reassurance. Coming close to the armchair in the corner, Ron felt something brush his leg. His eyes shot downward at once, examining the space between the chair and the wall, but there was nothing there.

"What is it?" Hermione breathed, very close to Ron's ear.

"Nothing," Ron said at once, turning his head to find Hermione merely inches away from him. Ron swallowed and quickly turned back around, heading to the kitchen. Hermione's grasp upon his shirt remained and after a moment, Ron reached behind himself and took her hand into his. He turned the lights on in the kitchen and searched, keeping Hermione's hand in his own. He even looked out the windows, to make sure that there wasn't a fight taking place on the street.

"I'm telling you!" Hermione said at last, once Ron had deduced that all was well. "I heard a loud crack!"

CRACK!

Hermione immediately grabbed a hold of Ron, her body pressing against his as she exclaimed, "Exactly like that!"

"It came from the living room," Ron announced once his breathing calmed slightly. The red head immediately made his way back into the lightened living room, heading directly to the armchair in the corner. He pushed the chair aside and began looking for the culprit. He saw nothing, though he felt a slight breeze on his left side, as if someone was running past him. Hermione felt the breeze as well and buried her face into Ron's shoulder.

"Is this apartment haunted?" she asked in a whisper.

"Fred and I never noticed anything," Ron replied, trying to keep his voice level. "Wewe're notvery perceptive though." Hermione's face remained buried into his shoulder, but her hands lowered themselves so that her arms wrapped around his waist. Ron sucked in his breath. A part of him was telling him to breakaway from her; she was his roommate and it was inappropriate. Another part of him told him that it was perfectly natural to return the embrace. Torn between the feuding sides of his mind, Ron merely patted Hermione's linked hands on his stomach awkwardly.

That's when he saw it. Lying on the floor next to their feet was a picture of a boy. Breaking away from Hermione, Ron bent down and picked the picture up, examining it further. The boy had messy, black hair and looked to be in his young teen years: twelve, maybe thirteen. Ron couldn't see much of the boy's face for the boy had raised his hand to block the camera's view, as if he didn't want his picture taken.

"Yours?" Ron asked, handing the picture to Hermione who studied it.

"No," she replied softly, shaking her head. "Though," she paused, squinting her eyes in inspection, "he does look familiar."

Ron nodded in agreement, snatching the picture from Hermione and throwing it down upon the coffee table. "So you ready to go back to bed?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes widened in alarm. She apparently wasn't ready. Sighing, Ron took her hand once again and led her out of the living room, turning out the lights on his way. He flicked the light off in the hallway as well and continued on toward their bedrooms. He paused when he reached them, his hand remaining linked with Hermione's. The young woman was eyeing her dark bedroom with uncertainty.

Holding his breath and keeping his hand laced with Hermione's, Ron took a step closer to his bedroom, indicating without words that Hermione was permitted to sleep with him if she wanted. Ron knew that it was forward of him. He and the girl hadn't gotten much time to talk since she moved in and they barely knew each other. He expected to get a slap, even though his intentions, for the most part, were innocent. He was shocked, however, when Hermione took a step closer to his bedroom as well…accepting the invitation.

.x.

Fred Weasley stood in the dark hallway of his brother's apartment, shrouded by the invisibility cloak that had once been Harry Potter's. He and Ginny hadn't meant for the duo to wake up from the sound of their Apparating into the apartment, but the 27-year-old wizard was now glad that they had.

Ron and Hermione's actions toward one another showed that they recognized a familiarity between them. It was that familiarity that delighted Fred. It meant that they were one step closer to remembering their past.

Fred had smiled broadly when Ron and Hermione entered the living room, Hermione holding onto Ron's shirt for comfort. Ginny, on the other hand, felt like she was intruding upon their privacy and had Disapparated from the apartment once the two went into the kitchen. Fred remained and watched with mild curiosity as Ron retuned right to the corner where he was hiding under the cloak and pushed the chair aside. Fred took the chance and rushed past his brother, dropping a picture of Harry Potter as he did so.

The original plan was to just plant the picture in their apartment for them to find. The picture was a Muggle one that Ginny had gotten from Colin. Fred's delight only increased when both his brother and Hermione admitted the boy looked familiar. And now the two were sharing a bedroom, possibly even a bed. Fred remained in the hallway, waiting until they fell back to sleep before Apparating home. He was beaming.

End Author's Note: I really feel weird--I hope I'm not dying. I currently have that thing where, if you take too deep of a breath, you have to cough. o.O My nose is slightly stuffy, but not really congested like it was last week. What the dell is wrong with me? Anywho, I'm really really interested to hear your thoughts about this chapter.I worked really hard on it and I really enjoyed writing it. Someone told me that a bit more detail/insight would be appreciated with this story and I tried to do just that in this chapter without telling you guys too much because you have imaginations and this fic is what you make of it. I do feel like I should explain the 'Harry was dead in a few sentences and Voldemort not long after' bit. I wanted to keep it short and almost bittersweet. Let's see, what else do I want to address? Oh, GrownUp!Ron/Hermione is fun to write. Please tell me what you think of them (and the other older characters) and what you think of their relationship. In the mean time, I'm going to concentrate on getting better.