Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, which belongs to J.K. Rowling, and I am not making a profit off of this story. The Notebook belongs to Nicholas Sparks and it is only mentioned in the story because it was the first 'muggle' romance novel that came to my mind.

AN: I just wanted to say that this chapter is where the story really starts. The previous 5 chapters have basically been background for the actual story, since I felt odd beginning it at this point. I apologize if the plot has seemed slow so far, I promise to do my best to keep it more interesting. Seeing as this is where everything begins, the chapters will be much longer and there might be a little bit of a longer wait between chapters. I've done 5 chapters this week and since more thought will be put into the following ones, there might only be one or two new ones per week. Also, this is going to be a hardcore Hermione and Ron fanfiction. I know it has lacked in strong, romantic moments between the couple so far, but I promise it will evolve to that point eventually. I'm not going to have any intense, physically romantic scenes any time soon obviously. At the moment, it will be more emotionally romantic. Please be patient with me though, it will hopefully be worth the wait I am an aspiring author and I live for reviews. Criticism is greatly appreciated. I am here to improve my writing and reviews help to make that happen. Lastly, I tried to find how old Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and Harry were when the war ended, but I can't find it. Does anybody know how old they would all be around 10 months after the defeat of Voldemort? Thank you for reading so far and please, please continue to do so. Enjoy!

Back to the Burrow

(Ron's POV)

For the second time that day, Ron awoke, sinking into the soft cushions of a red armchair, next to his beloved's bedside. This time though, she was not in that infamous slumber. On the contrary, she was awake, staring at him. Her warm, caramel brown eyes were calmly penetrating his icy blue ones as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Ron could feel his ears flush just as brightly as the rest of his face when he noticed the strong intensity in which she gazed. Hermione, apparently just becoming aware that he was awake, blushed furiously and quickly shifted her gaze to her hands.

"Why were you awake?" he asked, after a few moments of awkward silence. He was confused at the circumstances in which he woke - she was supposed to be the one resting up, not him.

Her puzzled expression told him that he had asked his question too directly. "Umm… what I mean is, didn't you say you were tired?"

Still a bit pink from the earlier scene, she nervously replied, "Well I… err… woke up a little while ago and I didn't want to wake you."

Ron smiled. She always had been a terrible liar. He could tell from the way she spoke that she clearly never had been tired. Somebody who hadn't been in love with Hermione for his/her entire life might not notice the slight difference in her tone. His many years of secret adoration and observation of all that she did, had given him something nobody else could see about her. In his eyes, it made the bond between them even stronger, since he could almost read her mind anytime she spoke. He knew he was one of the few people that could read her voice this easily, and he took pride in it. He wasn't even sure that Harry or Ginny, her best friends, could do it.

The only explanation he could come up with was that she pretended to be sleepy to get him some needed rest. Ron's smile broadened at the thought. Perhaps she at least had some friendly feelings left for him - he dared not hope for more than that.

Breaking into his thoughts, Dr. Harrison walked into the small room. "I heard you were awake, Mr. Weasley, I would like a word with you about Miss Granger," he announced, his eyes glued to the clipboard in his hands.

Remembering Hermione's reaction last time the two had spoken about her condition without including her, Ron said, "Oh yes, of course doctor. Come on 'Mione, you need to be a part of this." When Hermione's face lit up, he knew he had done the right thing.

Dr. Harrison disagreed though and quickly made it clear. He said, shooting an annoyed look in Ron's direction, "Excuse me, sir, but the patient is in no proper state to be discussing this. She needs to-"

"The patient is in a good enough state to hear every word you say and she will join the conversation this time if you don't want to be sued. The law clearly states that a patient has the right to discuss his or her condition with a doctor," Hermione threatened, with a tone she had used in her school days for scolding young Ron and Harry about unfinished homework assignments.

Ron did not have the heart to tell her that muggle law didn't exactly apply to the wizarding world, and Dr. Harrison obviously felt the same way. Wearing an exasperated expression, he moved to Hermione's bedside and motioned for Ron to stand up.

Once the two men were both standing on her right side, the doctor said, facing Hermione, "About the matter of retrieving memories. Some may be triggered by familiar scenarios. For example, if on your 15th birthday, you were given a shirt by your mother, and tomorrow your mother handed you that shirt, you might remember your 15th birthday. Another hypothesis we have about it, is that it all might be random. You could be eating breakfast 5 months from now and remember your 15th birthday. All of this is speculation, but it is my honest opinion that it will be a mixture of both. Let me warn you though, we recommend you don't force the memories to come back. It is best to let them come of their own accord. Trying to reenact scenes from your past to trigger memories could permanently harm your brain. Also, Mr. Weasley, please do not try to mess with her condition by using magic, it may be with good intentions, but it will not turn out well for either of you."

Ron's face heated up to an unnatural color when the doctor spoke this last sentence. Did he really think that he would perform magic on her that was not 100% safe? Before Ron could yank the bushy moustache from that toad's face, Hermione gave him a warning look. He tried his best to let it go, and unclench his tightened fists.

"We understand doctor," Hermione responded professionally.

"Now, Miss Granger, there is no more we can do for you here, so I see no reason why you aren't able to leave. The Burrow, your parents' and your own flat are all options you may consider. You may leave today if you wish, but I will need to be informed of your whereabouts. So where will you be staying?"

Ron hadn't thought that there would be any discussion about where she would stay. He could feel the panic rising up in him as he thought about Hermione staying at her parents', where more dark wizards could pop up at any time, and take her away from him forever this time. He would not hear of it. Ron's voice broke into the room, the fear that he felt was barely noticeable, "Well of course you're coming to the Burrow. Being alone at your own flat won't do anybody any good. There won't be anything to trigger any memories there. You've only been in the place for a few weeks. Your parents' house won't hold many memories either; you have been at Hogwarts for most of the past few years. The Burrow, I mean blimey, we've all spent so much time there, and it must be full of stuff to remember. What about more death eaters coming too? The safest place is the Burrow. I'm not letting you stay without protection, 'Mione. Please come to the Burrow, please."

Ron was embarrassed at how pleading he sounded, but he really needed her to come and stay with him and his family. He wanted to be there for her at all times and protect her as much as he could. He needed to make up for not being there when the death eaters attacked. Ron wanted her to be safe and comfortable, but even more, he wanted her to be safe and comfortable with him. After coming so close to losing her, he wanted to hang on as tight as he could to her.

"I really don't want to stay alone, and if my parents' house isn't safe, I don't want to be there either. I think the Burrow is where I'm going to stay for a while," Hermione said in a definite tone. Ron was so relieved that he literally let out of a sigh of relief and laughed to himself for no apparent reason. Nothing could stop the grin that shone on his freckled face, and it doubled in size when Hermione beamed back at him.

"Very well then, you may pack your things and I will contact you soon for a checkup," Dr. Harrison said with an honest smile upon his cheeks.

Ron and Hermione watched the little man leave along with the tension he brought with him. Ron couldn't help but stare in awe at Hermione as she looked around the room, seemingly confused. He couldn't believe how incredible she was. As smart and reasonable as she was, she would go off with a bunch of complete strangers if her gut feeling told her to. He was just glad that her gut feeling sided with him this time. His adoration only greatened when a beam of sunlight hit her, making her beautiful eyes sparkle and her curly mass of hair shine. He heard her say something to him, but he was too lost in his thought of her to understand it. Snapping her fingers impatiently in front of his face, she said, "Hello? Ronald?"

She received his undivided attention at the sound of his full name, making her smile slightly. "What did he mean when he said to pack my things? I haven't brought anything," she asked, the confused way in which she had looked around the room now making sense to Ron.

"Oh well, after I made sure you were fine a few days ago, I stopped by your flat to pick up a few things for you. For, you know, when you woke up and didn't have anything to do," he shyly responded. Ron didn't know why he felt so coy about it. It was if he was back in fifth year and was embarrassed about every little thing that might show a glimpse of his true feelings for Hermione. He did not want to go back to that. He didn't want the awkward feeling between them once more, but he also didn't want to be as flirty as he was a few weeks ago when they were passionately in love. She didn't even remember that they were going out. Were they even going out any more? They hadn't broken up, but he didn't know if losing your memory of your boyfriend meant you were broken up. He definitely didn't want to ask though. Ron had resolved a few days back to not tell her of their relationship, at least until she had shown even a slight inkling of feelings for him.

"Oh, well, thank you," she quietly said, "Umm… where are they?"

Feeling a bit stupid for not showing her as soon as he mentioned it, he walked over to the trunk in the corner. Ron gripped the white handle and lifted the trunk with ease – roughing it with Harry Potter and fighting off dark wizards for a year had strengthened his arms, something Hermione used to fawn over. Ron could have easily carried the items from the chest to her bed, but he vainly wanted her to notice his muscles, like she used to. He released the heavy, metal case next to her on the bed, making the bed creak from the added weight. He quickly undid the lock with a wave of his wand and began to empty the contents onto the bed. First, he placed a few books before her and she speedily scooped one of them up, eager for reading material. Next came two velvet boxes. He added the famous small, beaded bag to the pile and was about to sit down and explain the items when he noticed a small and golden rimmed picture frame, still lying in the box. Ron knew he could not show Hermione the picture quite yet, and checked to make sure she was still occupied with the books before he swished his slender wand, transporting it to his bedroom floor at the Burrow.

Ron heaved the trunk up once more and set it back in the corner of the white room. After making his way to her bedside once more, he sat down next to her, the mess of objects in her lap.

He pointed to the first book and said, "This is some muggle romance you've been obsessively reading for the past few days. It's called The Notebook, I think," Ron quickly checked the title to confirm his guess and then continued, "Yea, I found it on your night stand. I thought you'd want one of those sappy romances you love." A smile played at both of their faces.

"This here," he said, taking the book that she was currently holding, "Is a book in ancient runes. I don't really know what it's about though, I can't read the title. You used to love to read them, and I thought you might like to learn the language again." He flipped through the pages, showing her the strange symbols inside.

Ron waited a few minutes before continuing – Hermione was flipping through the ancient runes book with intense interest. Once she had seemed to have enough with the second book, he pointed to the final one and said, "This is The Tales of Beetle and Bard. You spent a lot of time studying it while we were...uhh…backpacking with Harry a year ago and I thought it might bring back a few memories. They're stories wizards tell their kids. Kind of like those muggle ones. Oh what were they called…" Ron said, furrowing his brow as he tried hard to remember the titles, "Oh yea! Stories like Snowing White or Beauty and the Feast." Ron proudly grinned at how he had remembered the titles he was told of by Harry so long ago.

Hermione burst out laughing and managed to correct Ron between giggles. Blushing, Ron rubbed the back of his neck, all hints of pride gone. Hermione stopped giggling when Ron's face fell and said to him, "I'm sorry. Could you tell me what this is?"

Ron looked at the small velvet case she was pointing to, and opened it up. Her eyes widened when she saw the gold charm bracelet. Her mouth formed a small O shape and she reached out toward the box. Ron let her take it in her hands and admire the charms – a witch hat, a snake, a wolf-like dog, a trophy, the letters DA, a book, and a heart shape.

Ron explained, "I gave it to you when the war ended and-," He was cut off when Hermione's head spun around to face him and she shot a concerned look at him.

"There was a war?! Is everybody ok?" she asked, worry in her eyes. Ron's heart melted when he saw her honest concern. She was this worried about a bunch of strangers getting hurt.

"Yes, Hermione, everybody is ok now. We lost some good people but-," his voice cracked when he thought of Fred, and he began to tear up. No, he thought, I won't do this now. I have to keep it together.

Getting a hold of himself, he cleared his throat and continued, "We lost some good people but it's over now. I'll be able to explain more about it later. Each charm is for a year we spent as friends." He pointed to the first charm, the hat. "This is the sorting hat. It was the first thing we did when we went to wizard school." Taking each one in turn, he explained them all, "This is a basilisk. There was one at school but we got rid of it. This one stands for our friend Sirius, who we met in our third year. He could turn into a dog that looked like this one. See this? It's the TriWizard Cup. It's a really great award that we helped Harry get in fourth year. The fifth one stands for Dumbledore's Army. It was a group that you came up with to fight a real git of a toad that had taken over the school. The book is for the old potions book that Harry found in sixth year. You hated that book, but it was a big part of our last year at Hogwarts. This last one is for when…" Ron stopped. He didn't know how to explain the last charm. It stood for when he and Hermione had finally admitted their feelings for each other, but he didn't know how to explain it to her without saying that they were going out.

"It stands for the end of the war right?" she asked.

"Yea, that's it," he said, eager for any explanation except the truth. "I know it doesn't make much sense now, but I'll tell you more about it later if you like."

"Yes, please," she said with a smile on her cheeks and in her eyes. "It sounds like we had a really eventful time at school and I want to know more, but right now we need to finish packing."

"Yea, right, well let me show you this one last thing before we pack it all up." He took the second velvet box and opened it to reveal her wand, as Hermione carefully put the bracelet away. As soon as she saw her dragon heartstring wand, however, she dropped the charm bracelet box and only had eyes for the decorated wood. Her small hands reached for the wand as if she was being pulled magnetically. Seeing her movement, Ron closed the box and hid it behind his back.

"No way," he said. Seeing Hermione's longing for the wand be replaced by sadness made his heart fall, but he did not bring out the wand again for her. "I can't let you touch it yet, 'Mione. I dunno what will happen. You might accidently do magic. I'm sorry."

"It's ok," she mumbled, her tone indicating that it was not ok at all.

"Well we might as well put it all away and head off," Ron announced, trying to change the subject. He pulled the tiny purple bag toward him and placed the long velvet case inside, even though it was twice as long as the bag.

"How does that even fit?" she asked, awe returning once more to her expression. "It's much too big to fit."

"Well, you did it yourself. You charmed it so it can hold much more than it appears to be able to. Take a look," Ron offered, extending the bag out to her. She took it eagerly and marveled at her own spell for a few seconds before plunging her entire arm into the small thing. She gasped when her limb disappeared up to her armpit.

Ron laughed at her marvel and she began to place all the other items into it. After all had been packed, he summoned some fitted jeans and a purple muggle t-shirt for her from her flat. When Hermione appeared again, changed out of her hospital gown, he took her hand. "We're going to apparate to the Burrow now ok? You might feel a little sick when we get there though, it's tough your first time."

She tightened her grip on his and he smiled, loving the feeling of the contact. Ron turned on his heel and they were both sucked into blackness. The air was crushed from his lungs and he had the sensation of being squeezed much too tightly. Just when he thought his head would burst from the pressure, he popped out, still holding Hermione's hand, in a small wood.

"Aww, bloody hell! I never was the best at apparating. I missed by a bit, 'Mione, we have to walk the rest of the way, sorry," he said embarrassed at his poor magic.

Hermione said, "Oh, its ok, these woods are beautiful anyways," trying to make Ron feel better.

Ron tried his hardest not to think that the real Hermione would've scolded him for his mistake and his fowl language, but he couldn't help but notice the difference. Confusion suddenly overtook him. She should be heaving right now. How could she be perfectly fine and standing upright when she had apparated for the first time?

"Wait, you don't feel sick?" Ron asked, putting a hand on her forehead to check her temperature.

To this she replied, "Well, I sort of knew what was going to happen. I knew I would feel a lot of pressure so I prepared myself for it I guess."

Ron stood staring at her, mouth agape. She had remembered something! Something that didn't have much meaning, but it was still something. They were already making progress. He couldn't help himself from pulling her into a tight embrace. As he felt her warmth against him and her arms squeeze back, it was all he could do to not kiss her. Before he could cave in to his urge, he let go, missing the contact at once.

A pink faced Hermione quietly asked, "Umm… which way is the Burrow?"

"Oh, yea, sorry. It's this way," he answered, leading the way through the woods. Neither spoke as they walked through the trees, twigs crunching beneath their feet and branches pulling at their clothes.

Around what Ron guessed to be 15 minutes later, they arrived at the back of the Burrow. The brown, worn house tilted slightly and had rooms coming out at odd angles. The strange building had become even odder looking when the new additions had been put on. A room at the top floor was added for Hermione a few weeks back and was next to Harry's new room, which protruded upward, above the roof on stilts. The rooms had been added because the two had visited so many times in the past few months, they had needed the extra space. One more room had been added. It was on the second floor, next to Ginny's room. The new space became George's new room. He had been unable to sleep in either the flat or room at the Burrow that he had shared with Fred. Nobody ever entered the twins' old room, and it was always passed quickly with downcast eyes. The Burrow was full to bursting after the war. Every family member had wanted to stay at home and mourn for their dead brother. After the funeral, they had all stayed – except for Bill and Fleur who returned to Shell Cottage. Everybody had felt the need to stay close to one another after so many had been lost, as if by physically doing so, they could fill the gap left by Fred.

Ron hurriedly went back to reality. If he thought of the emotional burden on his family any longer, he would surely break down, and this was definitely the wrong time to become a wreck. He had to keep his promise. He would hold himself together for Hermione. At the thought of her name, he noticed her absence. Fear overcame him and he rushed into the Burrow as fast as he could to search for the lost brunette.

To his great relief, she was inside, gazing at his mother's old clock. It was the one that told the family members' locations. He edged up behind her and tapped her shoulder. She did not turn around though. She simply continued to stare and asked, "Why am I on here?"

Ron looked at the decrepit old clock. It said things like mortal peril, traveling, work, home, and school along the edges, and the clock had almost twenty hands. They had pictures of the Weasley children (minus Fred), his mum and his dad, Harry, Fleur, and Hermione. She continued to stare as the Ron hand on the clock moved to the home area.

"Oh, well, mum thinks of you as family, 'Mione. So when she added Bill's wife to here, she added you and Harry too."

Hermione gave him a teary eyed smile and whispered, more to herself than to him, "I knew I did the right thing when I chose to come here."

Once again, Ron had to make a distraction for himself so he wouldn't kiss her. Thankfully, a distraction walked in at that very moment. His mother said, sweetly, "Hello dearies, dinner is on the table. Help yourselves. I'll be upstairs folding laundry if you need anything."

Ron nodded, knowing that she was keeping everybody cooped up in their rooms so the couple could have privacy and not overwhelm Hermione.

"Hungry?" he asked, thinking about the undoubtedly delicious meal his mother had prepared.

"Well, I suppose we could eat something," she responded.

Ron directed her to the kitchen and began to shovel enormous helpings of roast chicken and sprouts onto his plate, before he noticed Hermione at the sink.

Once again, she was captivated by the magic in the house. This time, it was the dishes washing themselves. Ron sat his plate down and strode over to her. He watched her eyes linger on the plate and her hand stretch towards it. Realizing what was about to happen, Ron began to warn her, but it was too late. Her fingers had touched the half clean plate, breaking the charm. The plate was sent crashing into the sink, breaking into dozens of white, ceramic pieces.

Hermione's stuttered apologies were ignored as Ron whipped out his wand, and casted a repairing spell. After Ron had reset the washing charm, Hermione had once again tried to apologize. Ron stopped her mid-sentence and beckoned her to the table.

Once they had both sat down to eat, Ron continued to pile food upon his own plate while Hermione took modest portions of lamb chops and roast potatoes. When the pair had filled up on Mrs. Weasley's marvelous cooking, they stood up, yawning. Ron sent the leftovers into the fridge and the plates into the sink with a few swift spells, leaving the table spotless. He expected an astonished expression from Hermione, but found her occupied by Ginny's pygmy puff, Arnold.

At the moment, Arnold was rubbing Hermione's palm affectionately. When Ron came to Hermione's side, however, he jumped on Ron's head and began jumping up and down aggressively.

"Urgh! Bloody twit, Arnold! Gerroff!" Ron yelled, taking swings at the creature on his head. He began to stumble around, running into the sofa in the process. Ron yelled in pain as the armrest hit between his legs. This made Arnold let out a squeaky giggle, as he hopped off Ron's head and bounded off down the hall.

Ron stood there, with his face contorted in agony. Hermione stood four feet away, trying to suppress a surge of giggles. Eventually, Ron stood up, vowing to feed Arnold to the gnomes outside tomorrow.

Three owls swooped into the room, drowning out Ron's mumbles of "bloody git" and "bleedin demon". The birds had just returned from their evening flight and landed in their cages, lined up against the far wall.

For about the tenth time that night, Hermione's attention was taken one hundred percent by something new and magical. Ron hobbled over, still throbbing from the collision with the armrest. "This is Errol, Pigwidgeon, and Bird," he said through clenched teeth, pointing from the old tawny owl that looked like it was about to die, to the small giddy one, bouncing around in its cage, and finally to the calm, great horned owl. "Errol is Percy's work owl, Pigwidgeon is my bloody owl," he said the last line with a grimace to hide the affection he really had for the bouncy little thing. "And Bird is the new, family owl we got a few moths ago."

Hermione stuck her fingers through the bars of Bird's cage and he nibbled lightly on them, making her laugh. Oh how much Ron loved that laugh. His famous lopsided grin spread as her happy laugh filled his insides with an unexplainable warmth.

Facing him, she asked, "What do we do now?"

"Well, I'd give you a tour but its getting late, and mum and dad are probably sleeping by now, so I'll show you it tomorrow, I promise," he answered. Ron knew he would've had time for a quick tour tonight, but he wanted to make an excuse to make sure he saw her tomorrow.

"Yes, that sounds great," she said, returning his grin. "I think I'll go and read The Notebook now if you don't mind."

"Oh, yea, sure," he said, disappointed. "I'll show you where your room is." Once again, Ron took the lead and Hermione followed behind him. After several flights of stairs, they reached the top floor, which held Hermione's bedroom door.

Ron turned the glistening handle and ushered her inside, saying, "Well here it is. The trunk is over there and it has some clothes that mum brought from your flat." He gave her the beaded bag that held a few of her belongings, wished her goodnight, and exited the room. Once he had shut the door as quietly as he could, so as to not wake anyone, he went down the flight of stairs to his own bedroom.

Once Ron was alone inside, he sat on the edge of his bed, thinking of the day's events. After a few minutes of deep thought, Ron noticed the picture frame that he had sent to his room earlier that day. He jumped off the bed and picked it up with shaking hands. Flipping it over, he revealed the picture that the golden frame contained. It was him and Hermione on their 5 month anniversary. They were holding hands and laughing. Ron stood there for the longest time, gazing longingly at the photo, remembering how it felt to hold his girlfriend. The photographed couple looked deeply into each other's eyes and kissed, only to be broken apart by Pigwidgeon swooping just above their heads. The laughing couple returned to smiling at the real life Ron, not knowing the pain they were causing him.

When he could bear it no longer, he set the picture face down on his night stand. He had lost all that. The old Hermione was gone, and he could only wait and hope to get her back. The image from the picture was imprinted on the inside of his eyelids, making the pain in his chest strengthen. As tears came to his eyes once more, he knew he could not just wait. He would do everything he could to bring his girl back to her old self. He needed her back.

Wiping at his tears, an idea came to his mind. It was simple, but brilliant. He wouldn't exactly be following Dr. Harrison's orders, but he wouldn't be breaking them either. Suddenly, he realized how tired he actually was. He pushed his plans to the back of his mind, to think about tomorrow. Without even changing into pajamas, he lay down on his bed and drifted into his first full night's sleep in a week. He lay there for the next nine hours, dreaming of the old, whole Hermione, tears still glistening in the corners of his eyes.