Chapter 14

Women are bloody complicated. That's the only thing that can be considered certain over this past week. Sure, Hermione seemed subdued at dinner when I told her the news, but the whole conversation still went a hell of a lot better than I had expected. I thought she was okay with it, but she has not responded to a single letter that I've written her in the time that has passed.

Okay, that's an exaggeration. Hermione had to practically train me to write to her in the beginning, so now that I'm decent about it, she is usually prolific in her responses. Her letters this week have been unlike her - very clipped and repetitive. I've asked to see her all week since she leaves for Hogwarts tomorrow, and she always cited studying as a reason to stay apart. Hermione can be anal about school, but this is ridiculous, even for her.

That can only mean that something's wrong. The deadline for my response is tomorrow. Even though I did the right thing by telling Hermione, it's already dusk and I still can't bring myself to send it. Not when I don't know how she is doing. I never thought I'd care so much about someone else to make me doubt being Auror, but the thought of doing something that will hurt Hermione doesn't sit right. After some debating with myself, I finally decided to flat out ask her if we will be okay if I accept the position.

I groan to myself as I stare out the kitchen window, awaiting a possible response from Hermione that would arrive with Pigwidgeon. Who knows - maybe she will be fine with this? Maybe everything is fine and I'm just blowing things out of proportion. That would make life so much easier.

"You realize that waiting for that letter isn't going to make it come any faster, right?"

I turn from the kitchen window to see Harry grab an apple from a bowl of fruit on the counter. I can feel my ears burn at the comment. "Better than avoiding any opportunity to talk to her," I reply pointedly.

Harry bites his apple and chews slowly as he joins me at the kitchen table. Swallowing, he confides, "You've got a point. I kind of thought that Ginny'd come around at this point."

I roll my eyes. "Do you know my sister? She's around 5'6", likes to wear spray that makes her smell like a flower bed, stubborn as hell?"

Ignoring my jibe, Harry says, "You know, we shouldn't have to feel bad about this. We're going to help make the things safe for everyone. I don't get why they can't understand that."

"I reckon Hermione understands," I reply, my gaze returning to the window. No bird in sight and it's getting dark. "She just worries that we'll get hurt, I guess."

Harry raises an eyebrow as he sets his apple on the table. "You used to complain all the time that you couldn't fathom her emotions. Do you understand her now?"

"I wouldn't say that," I say with a chuckle. "I can just kind of see where she's coming from. It would probably be easier on her if she joined too, but Merlin knows she isn't putting off school."

Harry bites into his apple again. The silence is filled with the crunching of the fruit. He finally replies, "I guess I did leave Ginny in a lurch last year when we could have taken her with us."

"I'm not saying that we did the wrong thing. I'm glad that she was safe at school," I reply hastily. I don't need Harry getting any wrong ideas about putting Ginny in harm's way. "But I can see why she's upset."

Harry scowls. "Do you think I'm making the wrong decision?"

"No, mate! I'm still game for both of us being Aurors," I insist. "It just didn't make sense to me why she'd insist on acting like this, so I talked to Hermione about it and her explanation helped. In Ginny's mind, you did already abandon her once."

"And YOU haven't?" Harry asks heatedly, but the question is purely rhetorical.

I did abandon her. I abandoned my family to be with Harry and Hermione, and then I ended up abandoning them as well. I try to put the month when I was separated from Harry and Hermione out of my mind, but that doesn't change that it happened. I'll be damned if I make Hermione feel that way again - even if it costs me my dream, although the thought makes my stomach sink.

Harry shakes his head. "Look, forget I said that. I just wish they'd understand that this is worth it. It's not like I can do anything about it now if I wanted to, anyway."

I want to tell him that I haven't responded yet, but there is one other reason aside from Hermione that I'm hesitant to respond to begin with.

"Speaking of that… When you sent your response, did you ask Kingsley to hire me? I don't think I really did enough to warrant the same deal as you, if I'm being honest. I'm surprised he even remembered enough about me to invite me."

"What're you going on about? You did a ton!" Harry says reassuringly.

A part of me isn't inclined to believe him, but I let it slide for now. I suppose it doesn't matter why it happened. I'll prove that I deserve to be there either way. Assuming that Hermione will ever get back to me thoroughly enough to convince me that it won't ruin things between us, that is.

After a brief silence, Harry continues, "Regardless of what they think, I'm excited about training together. In fact, I was wondering if you'd want to rent a flat in London with me."

I look back at him from the window. "Really? Blimey, I hadn't even thought of where I'd live."

"Well, unless you want to live with your mum for the rest of your adult life, I figured it'd be a start," Harry replies with a grin. "I'm sure that the signing bonus we're getting will help pay a lot of the way."

"A signing bonus?" I ask with even more disbelief. Although I've always wanted to be an Auror, I was attracted primarily to the prestige that came with the position. I've heard that the paycheck that came along with it is nothing to scoff at, but it just now dawned on me that I'd be receiving it.

"Yeah! I could've sworn he mentioned that," Harry says with another bite of his apple. "But if that's not happening, I can cover for you for a while. It's not a big deal, mate."

I can only imagine what that's like. Growing up in your brother's too-small hand-me-downs doesn't make things like covering your mate's rent a non-issue. Although I've always been aware of Harry's wealth, it comes up so rarely that it surprises me when he offers to use it. Even when he invested in Fred and George's business, it was from Wizard Tournament prize winnings and not his own vault. The casual mention is enough to send a jolt of jealousy through me, which I immediately try to fight down.

"I reckon we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," I say, struggling to cover my discomfort. My gaze returns to the window. "But I don't want your charity, Harry. I'll figure out a way."

I can feel Harry shift uncomfortably beside me. "I wouldn't consider it charity, Ron. It's really nothing."

Before I could tell him why saying 'it's nothing' about money actually makes it something in my book, I spot a familiar brown owl in the darkness.

"Pig's almost here." Harry doesn't reply. I try to ignore the tense atmosphere in the room as Pig slowly finishes his flight to the window. I open the window to let him in, only to realize that a letter isn't attached. "Oh great, did you drop it?"

Pigwidgeon hoots in response, his eyes darting about the room. With a sigh, I grab an owl treat from the cupboard and place it on Pig's preferred resting place. He frantically stumbles his way through the kitchen to eat the treat, which would be amusing if I weren't annoyed about the missing letter.

"I guess I'm going to go ask her what she said," I say to Harry as I stroke Pig's back.

Harry replies, "Don't you think that she was just going to say that she's studying? According to you, that's the gist of what every letter from her said this week."

"Yeah. Well, I want to know how she's doing before I send my response to Kingsley, anyway," I admit, somewhat embarrassed. Harry certainly didn't let Ginny's opinion stop him.

"You haven't sent it yet?" Harry asks with alarm. "It's due in a few hours!"

"Which means there's still time," I say with a shrug.

Harry shakes his head. "You're daft," he chuckles.

"Maybe, but at least I'm still on speaking terms with my girlfriend at the moment," I reply with a half-hearted smirk. Although it's meant as a joke, it sounds a little meaner than I had intended. I'm still a little bothered by our previous discussion. "I'll be back."

With a dizzying pop, I land in some shrubbery just outside of Hermione's house. As I fight back the nausea that I usually experience with Apparating, I scan the surrounding streets for any sign of Muggles. I suppose I should have thought of that before I Apparated, but all I can really remember about this area is Hermione's house. Luckily for me, there doesn't seem to be any sign of the Grangers' neighbors in the dark night.

As I check my watch, I realize that it is too late to ring the door bell. Hermione's father in particular has been prone to sleeping after his memories were restored, and there is reason to believe that both of Hermione's parents are asleep by now anyway. I survey the front of the house, trying to recall which window belongs to Hermione's room. The one to the right of the entry is the only one that still emits a dim light. I approach the window and take a look inside. The room is lit by candles, but other than that I can't tell any defining features that would indicate that it was Hermione's room.

Taking the chance, I rap on the window lightly. The wait is agonizing as I see a movement in the shadow on the bedroom wall opposite the window. I'm going to lose my bullocks if it's Hermione's parents. I let out a breath of relief as a small, familiar figure approaches. Hermione's eyes look at me incredulously as she opens the window, her short hair in wild curls about her face. "What are you doing here?" She whispers, her tone mixed with bewilderment and curtness.

"Pig dropped your response," I reply, rubbing the back of my head awkwardly. It all seems silly now that I'm here, sneaking around her yard in the middle of the night.

Hermione sighs exasperatedly. "Pigwidgeon didn't drop anything. I didn't have the time to read your letter, much less send a response. I'm packing."

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Hermione is usually packed for school at least a week in advance, just in case she remembers something that she needed throughout the final week. "Still?"

Hermione crosses her arms. "What do you want?"

"Why don't you read the bloody letter and find out?" I suggest with embarrassment. I actually did put some thought in how I worded the letter, and I can't be sure that I'd say it just as well off the cuff.

With a huff, Hermione leans over to grab the letter I had sent. After opening it hurriedly, her brown eyes scan the parchment, gradually widening as they reach the end of its contents. When she finishes, she raises her eyes slowly to meet mine, her prior frustration gone. "You haven't sent your response to Kingsley yet?" She breathes. "Why?"

"You just read why!" I exclaim in a whisper. I can feel my ears burning. "I don't want to respond without knowing that we'll be okay. It's… it's just important to me."

Hermione stares at me for a long moment. It might just be the candlelight, but I can see Hermione's eyes glistening. Merlin, I hope I didn't just make her cry. I never know how to handle that.

"You were going to turn him down if I didn't tell you that we'll be okay?" Her voice comes out as a rasp.

I'm starting to wonder if she really read that letter. "I reckon so," I reply simply.

Hermione face crumples as tears start to fall down her face. Bloody hell, now I've done it. "Oh, Ron," she cries, her arms reaching out above the bushes under her windowsill to place her hands on my chest. "Of course we'll be okay. We're more than okay."

I cover the hands on my chest with my own. "Are you sure?" I ask disbelievingly. The tears that continue to stream down her face kind of indicate otherwise.

"Yes!" She replies with a laughing sob. "You better hurry and send your letter."

"It's moments like these that I wish you had an owl," I say, not really wanting to leave her alone when she's like this. I take her hands off my chest, and I brush my lips against her knuckles before letting her hands fall. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Of course," she says with a small smile. "I'm just happy, that's all."

I don't really understand why she's happy when she's crying, or when I have decided to take a position that she doesn't approve of, but I suppose that I'll never completely understand her. "Alright. Thanks for understanding, Hermione. I'll see you at the platform tomorrow to send you off."

"Actually, Ron?" She asks quietly, her voice suddenly higher in pitch. "You could come back after you send the response, if you wanted. You could just Apparate into my room instead of the yard."

I have to bite my cheek to stop the grin from spreading on my reddening face. "Sure thing."

When I get back to the Burrow, I don't bother waiting for my dizziness to wear off. I stumble through the dark kitchen to scribble down a hasty acceptance of the position for Kingsley. After finding Pig in the same spot that I left him, I tie the letter to his talon and rush to let him out the window. It's a little past ten at this point, and while it's technically dated before September 1st, I'm not sure how they'd react if Pig got there after midnight. I can only hope that won't be the case.

I'm just about to Apparate back to Hermione's house when the lights turn on. I turn to see my dad enter from the living room door, looking at me curiously. "You look frazzled. Everything okay?"

Hermione is okay with me pursuing my dreams. Hermione is happy. Hermione has invited me to come back to her bedroom in the middle of the night. Everything is bloody brilliant. "Yeah, just couldn't sleep," I reply evasively, stretching broadly to appear more convincing.

My dad raises an eyebrow as he takes a glass out of the cupboard. "Maybe changing into your pajamas would help?" He asks rhetorically, his tone conveying his disbelief.

I look down to see that not only am I still wearing jeans and sneakers, but that they are a little muddied up from when I landed in the shrubs.

"That's a good point, Dad. I should have thought of that."

Dad simply chuckles as he fills his glass with tap water. "I take it that you and Hermione have talked about Kingsley's offer?"

I'm not sure if mentioning Hermione would in any way imply that I intend on going her house right after he leaves the room, but I can't avoid talking about her at this point. "Yeah, she knows and I think she has accepted it. More than Ginny has, anyway."

As he walks back toward the door that he came through, he replies, "That's great, son. I'm glad that you've talked it over with her."

"Me too," I say, trying to appear casual as I stay put in the kitchen.

He opens the door and looks over his shoulder. "You coming upstairs?"

I freeze, trying to think of a good excuse. "I think I'm going to stay down here a little while longer. I have some things to think about."

"Alright, Ron. Just don't stay up too late while you're doing all that thinking," Dad replies with a chuckle. He doesn't seem to believe me.

Before I can try to convince him more successfully, the door closes behind him. Even if the comment was completely innocent, I'm suddenly a little nervous. Remembering how muddy my shoes are, I switch to another pair, but my jeans are still a little dirty. Should I change them? What if I smell? I shake my head to myself. I'm definitely getting worked up over nothing. She probably just wants to talk. After only seeing her in person a few times since she went back home to be with her parents, I'd be happy with just doing that too. Nothing to get worked up about.

Taking a deep breath, I decide that I will go into this expecting nothing. She may already be asleep, for all I know. With this in mind, I close my eyes and prepare myself for the impending dizziness. I breathe slowly when I land, my eyes still closed, taking in the scent of the burning candles.
When I finally open them, I see Hermione sitting on her twin bed, her long bare legs hanging over the side. I swallow thickly when I see that she is only wearing a large cotton shirt. I don't know what is more distracting: the collar, which swoops low enough to let someone as tall as I am see the tops of her breasts, or the short length of the shirt. If it rode up just a little more, I would see more than I ever have. Thank Merlin she's not crying anymore, otherwise I would feel like a randy bastard.

I look up to see her smile at me as she pats the space beside her in invitation. I feel like she wouldn't be smiling at me the way she is if she knew what I was thinking about.

"I cast some silencing charms, so we should be free to talk," Hermione murmurs me as I sit beside her. Despite her words, her voice is just as soft as it was when I saw her earlier.

Slipping my shoes off, I smile as I lean back against the wall. "I'm not going to lie. I was surprised when you asked me to come back, seeing as it's your parents house and all," I reply.

As she shrugs, I try to ignore the way her body shifts under her thin shirt with the movement. "Technically, my parents never established any rules when it came to you being here. It never really occurred to them, considering that I'm going to school tomorrow."

"It probably would have had I been over here more often," I reply pointedly, remembering her odd behavior throughout the week.

"We should consider ourselves lucky then," she breathes with a laugh as she nuzzles closer to me.

I can feel her soft curves, the heat of her against my side. I ignore the shiver that goes through my body in order to say, "I have a hard time believing that you were too busy to see me this week. Were you mad at me or something?"

Although she doesn't retreat, she frowns. "I did have a lot to do this week. Professor McGonagall actually sent me a letter asking if I could be Head Girl now that I'm returning, so I had extra responsibilities to prepare for."

"That doesn't surprise me one bit, but I feel like that was something you would've told me if you weren't, y'know, mad," I say playfully as I wrap my arm around her. "And now that I mention it, all of your letters were kind of out of character. Just admit it."

For a second, she looks like she's going to argue with me about it, but she doesn't rush to reply. Instead, she slowly moves to straddle me, her lips curled into a playful smile. All coherent thought flies from my mind as she wraps her arms around my neck, her breasts pressing against my chest.

"You know," she murmurs into my ear as she embraces me. "I could argue with you about this just for the sake of it, since I wasn't mad. I was just a little upset."

"Same difference" is all I can manage as my hands roam up and down her back. I can't help but notice that I don't feel a bra underneath her shirt. It would figure that I would be this distractible when I'm trying to initiate a serious conversation for once. Not that Hermione sitting on top of me is helping.

She lets out a breath as she leans back to look at me. My hands slide down to her sides, holding her waist. "Fair enough. I was upset, but I didn't want to influence your decision, so I tried avoiding you," she admits as she fidgets with the bottom of my shirt, which is making it even more difficult to pay attention. "But now that I've accepted it, I feel foolish for wasting the time that we could have spent together."

"There. Was that so hard?" I ask with a grin, my thumbs gently rubbing circles into her sides.

Her pink lips purse. "Yes," she says, but her face breaks into a smile. "But I've missed you."

And before I can reply, she kisses me.