Chapter Four: Many a garden walk...

He hadn't been in this room for ages. His mum had still kept all of his Chudley Canon posters up, and his bedspread still had a full flying team, from 1990, but that didn't matter much to him. The same floorboard creeked, and the window still didn't close all the way. It was good to be home.

His parents had added on a couple of magical extensions to the already cluttered house. Harry, Ginny, and their two (soon to be three) children lived in the south end of the house, while Sirius had taken refuge in the family's basement. Fred and George still lived in the house, along with Percy, but with them all having girlfriends (soon to be wives) they didn't spend a whole lot of time at home. Needless to say, the house was even more crowded than before.

Ron layed still in bed, hoping to hear little Abby's breathing from the next room over. He had missed seemingly everything in her life. She had grown up so much. When you've lived long enough, a year begins to seem like nothing, and things don't seem to change that much in a year. But when he came in that door, and saw his red-haired little girl, with her rosey little freckled covered cheeks, and her pretty pink dress and matching shoes, he couldn't believe that was the same little pink bundle of blankets he had left at the hospital that day.

He saw so much of Hermione in her, especially those beloved eyes. Brown, warm, all-knowing, everything he could remember about Hermione's.

Agh! Why couldn't he get her off of his mind. She was all he had thought about, next to Abigale, since he had been away. Whenever he would have time to think, she crept into his mind and filled him with guilt, not only because he had left Abby, but because he had not protected her from dying.

But, when he was alone, her memory comforted him, he had to remember that. She had always been there for him, even now.

What would she think of him leaving? What would she have said to him had she still been alive?

Though his mind was filled with guilt and dispair, he finally fell asleep, but she was in his dreams as well.

A garden.
The scent of lilacs filled the air...

"Lilacs?"

Ron lay confused, on what he thought was his bed.

"Ron... Ron, come to me..."

"Hermione? Hermione!"

He was suddenly standing, with no recollection of pulling himself to his feet. He ran to the pleasant voice.

"Ron, please, I must speak to you!"

Her voice seemed so real, almost as if she were still alive. His feet carried him faster and farther than he could ever travel by magic, towards a bright, blinding light. His arms reached towards the warmth of the light, the welcoming of the light.

And within less than a second, he was embracing someone who seemed so familiar. He held the small frame in his arms, which easily molded to fit the empty space between. The scent of lilacs enveloped him, and a feeling of ease overcame any sense of fear that still lingered.

"Do you miss me?"

"More than you could ever imagine."

"Does she miss me?"

"She doesn't know about you, Mum thought it was too early."

Ron had always imagined heaven being a happy place, void of tears and sadness, but her eyes filled with tears.

"I miss her. I've been watching her here, all alone."

"Then you know I left?"

"And I know you lied. That isn't like you."

"What was I supposed to tell them, I went and lived at a brothel for five months and was too drunk to find my way home? They would never forgive me. Harry and Ginny would never speak to me again. I need them all."

"Is life really that terrible, Ron?"

"Without you, yes. You were my joy, and my guiding light, my beacon of hope. I'm so lost."

Her eyes looked upon him with guilt and sadness. She was the reason her family had fallen apart. She was the reason her husband sought out love in a whore house, and her daughter was living with relatives, forced to stare at her missing father's picture and cry.

"I love you, Ron..."

BRRIIIIINNNNNGGGGGG!!

SMMMAASHHH!!

"AGH!! My friggin' head!"

Damn alarm clock! For what seemed like the millionth night in a row, it had interupted his conversation with his deceased wife. He had never been able to say goodbye, it had always just ended with, 'I love you, Ron...' and the damn thing would wake him up.

"Daddy!! Nana's made breakfast, and she says that if you don't get your butt down there Pappap is going to leave without you again," shouted little, well, not so little Abby, up the stairs.

"Damn, damn, damn, damn! Fifth day in a row she's sent me up threats! Tell her I'll be down in a minute will ya, Abs?"

He pulled himself from the sinking matress and slumped his way to the bathroom. Eh, another day, another bruise to add to his collection, he thought, as he looked at the newest bump on his forehead.

He knicked himself while shaving, stubbed his toe on the bathroom sink, and tripped on his way out the door. It just wasn't his lifetime.

"Hey Daddy! Want some toast before you go?" said Abby, as she held out a perfectly buttered and marmaladed slice of toast.

"Yeah, thanks baby! Say, when do you start school," he asked, mouth full of toast and jam, knowing that her eleventh birthday was just around the corner, " Can't wait till you get to meet all my old teachers. Maybe I'll even tell you about all of the misbehaving me and your Uncle Harry got up to in our day, eh?"

"Dad, I've read 'Hogwarts, A History Revised' at least a million times, and that thing practically catalogs in alphabetical order every one of your 'adventures'," she finished, matter of factly.

Ron's face seemed to grow longer with his disappointment. Even his daughter thought he was a worthless bum.

But, noticing his bruised ego, and head, she added, enthusiastically, "But... I'd love to hear them from your point of veiw."

"Great, we can talk after I get back from work. Maybe I'll take you to Diagon Alley as well?"

"Nah, Nana already got all my stuff... But I'd love to go out for supper, if we could?"

"No problem," he said, writing himself a mental note to tell his mother to back off.

And with that, he headed to work. Now, Undersecretary to the Official Secretary of the Assistant to the Head of The Department for Magical Malpractice and Misdiagnosis of Major Mutilations wasn't Ron's first choice in a job, actually, it was his last, but it still brought home the money he needed to put Abigale in a muggle school while she waited for her acceptance into Hogwarts, and it also paid for the little bit of rent his parents expected from him every month or so.

The past ten years had gone by pretty much the same everyday.
Ron gets woken up by screaming mother,
Ron eats meager breakfast, unlike the rest of the house,
Ron goes to work for incredibly evil boss,
Ron comes home, ready for hours, sometimes even days of sleep.
Lather, rinse, repeat.

Let's just say things were pretty boring.

But today, today was different. Though his mind was on many different things, mainly the dream, he still couldn't help but realize that today things had changed in his favor, at least after this morning.

As he walked through the fireplace, along with the rest of his dreary co-workers, Ron noticed a woman standing in the opposite fireplace from him. Her hair was the first thing that had caught his attention, a sandy brown bush of hair, a mass of tangled curls, it cascaded down her back, and as she turned, his heart skipped more than just one beat. Her eyes were so familiar, literally those of an angel. He remembered seeing them everyday of his Hogwarts career, he remembered the last day that he had seen them, the day they closed for the last time, and now here they were, staring at him, big and brown as ever.

He was too lost in thought to realize that she was walking towards him. His jaw, which had been hanging open, instinctively closed, as she neared.

"Hermione?" he spluttered out.

"Excuse me? No, I think you are thinking of someone else. I noticed you from across the room and I couldn't help but think I've met you somewhere before. I'm Nelly, but you can call me Nel," she said, as she extended her hand for him to shake.

But instead of reaching out and greeting her as any other proper human being would, Ron, being overwhelmed by his emotions, wrapped his arms around her and planted the longest kiss he could muster onto her unsuspecting lips. Her arms flailed about as he tried to create a more passionate kiss between the two.

Finally, she managed to push him off. Catching her breath, she managed to spit out, "Well, I never!" And she stomped off.

He watched her walk through the doors that led to the elevator, and he couldn't help but wonder, 'Who was this woman, who looked, sounded, and acted so much like his beloved Hermione, even kissed like her? Was she some sort of resurection, or was it pure coincidence.'

All he knew was that he had lost his chance at ever knowing. He had kissed her, and now she would never come back.

But he wasn't going to stop until he found her, and apologized.

He had to figure this out.