(A/N) Yay! New chapter! Sorry it's so short, crazy week. Hopefully this chapter is good though!!! Lots happening. Please please please review!! The reviews I've been getting are phenomenal, I love each and every one of you :D

Ron sat on the front stoop of this brownstone. When he rang the calling bell and asked for Hermione, he was told she was still at the hospital, and that her shift would end soon. He decided he would use that opportunity to sit and wait. He was shocked, after years of giving up, she had hidden herself as far away from the community as she possibly could. He held his wand and nervously fidgeted about. He hoped that this day would come, where he could confront her about the night that seemed so long ago. He did not know what he would say; however, he had a million things that he wanted to say. He then spotted a familiar head of bushy hair underneath a beret coming down the street. He immediately rose to his feet and searched his brain for anything that he could find, Well well well, look what we have here, he could also say, "Well Hermione, looks like you couldn't hide forever." Instead, all he could do was step in front of her and say.

"Hello."

Hermione looked up at him, shocked, floored, speechless. She immediately grabbed a hold of the banister.

"Ronald," said Hermione. She clutched her breast, her breathing going faster and faster. She walked up the stairs quickly, pulling out her key and turning it in the lock. She held the door open for him and he followed her up the stairs and into the last apartment. It was rather large, at first glance. It was much larger than anything in London.

"Can I make you some tea?" She asked. Ron nodded.

"That would be lovely." He heard the faucet running and several clicks as she busied herself in the kitchen. He looked up at the picture frames, there were several pictures of Hermione with a young child. This child seemed to dominate the photos scattered around, and they all were rather stagnant. He heard her footsteps approaching into the sitting room.

"Oh I'm so sorry," she said. "Can I take your jacket?" He nodded and handed her his coat and she went to the closet in the hallway to hang it up. As the water in the kettle came to a shrieking boil, the two of them sat silently in her sitting room.

"You look good," Hermione said honestly after a while. Ron stared down at the ground, obviously getting angrier by the second.

"You look tired," he commented, aptly.

"It's my new job," said Hermione with a smile. They both awkwardly danced around the giant elephant in the room.

"Ron--," Hermione began. He shook his head, stopping her.

"What I'm just wondering is why. Plain and simple." He stared up at her, anger evident in his glare.

"I told you Ron, I just didn't feel a connection to the wizarding world anymore. It wasn't my world." She lied, tears beginning to form.

"Bollocks," murmured Ron. "Absolute bollocks." He stood up and crossed the room in a few strides and gripped her by the shoulders. "I loved you Hermione. I loved you so so much. And what do I get? A note? You couldn't even talk to me? That is not the Hermione Granger I know." She continued to stare down at the ground as he let her go. She dropped back onto her couch in a wave of tears.

"I'm so sorry," she cried, "I screwed it up. I screwed everything up!" She wept. Ron took a deep breath and sat down next to her and hesitantly put his hand on her back, not denying or confirming her claim, just offering some sort of comfort.

"Why?" He repeated. "I want to know…why?"

She stood up, releasing herself from his touch and walking to the other side of the room. She took a picture of Anna down and handed it to Ron.

"She's ten." She said, simply. Ron did the calculations in his head, this must have still happened while she was among them. Suddenly the picture dropped from his hands and his eyes widened.

"Is she—," he stuttered, "Am I—?" He picked up the picture frame and stared at her closely. "But Hermione we never—"

Hermione shook her head. The realization hit him.

"Whose?" He asked.

"George," said Hermione simply.

"George?" Ron asked.

"Yeah."

"My brother—George?"

"That's the one." Hermione nodded and began to start sobbing again, her actions finally having a consequence. Ron sat down on the couch in shock. He scratched his head, in obvious confusion.

"But then—why did you—why did you run away?" He asked, obviously flustered.

"I didn't want to split you two up." She said simply. Ron cocked his head, standing back upright.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"You both had already lost a brother, I did not want you to lose another one b-be-because of me," Hermione tried to sputter out, "And-and-and I thought if I left, that at least you guys would have each other." She stood there looking dejected and defeated. Ron walked over to where she was and held her tightly kissing the top of her head.

"But we both suffered," he said after a while.

"Why?" Hermione asked into his shirt.

"We didn't have you." He said. She began to sob even harder into his shirt and he held her tightly, stroking her hair. He pulled her away and held her face in both hands.

"Hermione, I would have been upset, but I mean, we're mates…and forgive me if I sound utterly cheesy, but we'll always stick together." He stroked her cheek. "I may have loved you deeply once, but I moved on, I love another now, I have kids. Well—twins to be exact." He smiled. "I've already had my grief about it." Hermione laughed.

"I guess." She threw her arms around him again. "I thought you'd be angrier," she said scrunching up her nose. Ron smiled bashfully.

"Being the dad of two two-year-olds, teaches you immense patience." He said, eyes widening. Hermione laughed.

"I can understand that. One is enough." She groaned while laughing. The teakettle finally clicked finished, and Hermione walked into the room. Ron meandered over and leaned on the doorframe. "So how is everyone else?" She asked.

"Harry's got two kids," said Ron, "James and Albus Severus."

"Albus what?" Hermione asked.

"Albus Severus."

Hermione grinned.

"He would," she said pouring the hot water into two cups. She pulled the tea bags out of her drawer and dipped them into the hot water. "I supposed they're adorable," she said. She turned around. "So lets have it, who are you married to?" She asked.

"Parvati," said Ron.

"Parvati, really?" Hermione asked. Ron nodded with a grin.

"Well she's an editor at Witch Weekly magazine, and she also does a couple of columns at the Daily Prophet, she's really good," said Ron proudly. "Great mum too." He added. Hermione smiled nervously pulling a small dishcloth through her hands.

"I'm sure she's just awesome," said Hermione.

"You know, you're beginning to sound like a Yank," said Ron. Hermione laughed as she stirred some sugar into the cups and handed one to Ron.

"Well I have been here for 10 years," she admitted. Ron pulled a small watch out of his pocket. He placed it back in a few seconds later as they went back to the sitting room.

"Well…" said Hermione.

"Well what?" Ron asked.

"Tell me about your life, what happened?" Hermione asked.

"After you left?" Ron asked.

"Precisely," said Hermione.

"Well, I was done with special forces training," Ron began leaning back onto the sofa, "And you had been gone, and me and Harry were recruited into the Auror elite. It was pretty cool until we basically did security detail for large events, were essentially the secret service for the Minister of Magic. Well that got old pretty quickly, and pretty much as long as Harry or I were doing this…no one really tried anything on us, so we both kind of rose to the heads of the training program. Harry got Magic Defense Minister after only like two years, so as long as he's uncontested, he's got the job. Me? Well it's not been easy," said Ron.

As Ron was telling his story, Hermione had ordered pizza and they both ate as he described his life in more detail. He described meeting Parvati at a ribbon cutting, she was covering it. She ended up asking him out to dinner and they both hit it off immediately. While he was wary at first, he found love, and their relationship bloomed. Ron, sick and tired of being the head of the Aurors, described how he decided to look at other positions.

"Well since Harry had taken the post that well, I had also trained for, I started branching out internationally because a lot of foreign threats started to occur." He rolled his eyes. "So that's what I did, I worked in the Foreign Ministry, and am now currently running for Foreign Minister of Magic. And that's the long and short of it." Ron said. He smiled. Hermione looked down at the ground.

"Well what can I say Ronald, I guess you never actually needed me." Hermione laughed, standing and picking up his plate. She noticed that while she had only two slices, he managed to finish up the entire pie. She laughed, some things never change, she thought, sticking the plates in the fridge. She heard Ron's voice from behind her, and she experienced a rush of déjà vu.

"So what about you?" Ron asked. "I see the pictures all along here, and your hospital access badge." He picked it up. "Doctor Mia Granger, M.D.," he said. "Mia?"

"Was sick of people calling me Hermy-one," she laughed, "You know Americans. " She laughed. "Mia was just—simpler," she said. Ron snickered.

"Do you miss it?" He asked. Hermione stopped the water running and put the dishes on the dish rack.

"Every freaking day," said Hermione.

"Come back," said Ron. Hermione turned and shook her head, leaning against the sink.

"I know it sounds weird, but I've built a life for myself here for the past ten years. I know I have always been running away from something—but it's not so easy to drop everything and just go back." She said. Ron crossed his arms and nodded. As he did, he managed to glance at his watch.

"Bloody hell, well Hermione, it's been absolutely brilliant chatting with you. I just have to go—make a speech, you know, for the elections—wait until Harry finds out where you are," he said excitedly.

"No," said Hermione.

"What?"

"Don't tell Harry," she said.

"Why?"

"Or George."

"Hermione."

"I'm just not ready for everyone to find out yet. Anna and me have a life here, and I don't want to flip it around in one day. I guess it's all well and good that you know," she said. She sipped at her cup. "It's just—I need time, I've been here working at something for ten years, devoted to it, I have to make a decision." She walked up to Ron and put her hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Please just don't tell anyone."

"Fine," said Ron. "But you have to tell George. I want you to tell him—everything, be honest. If you don't, I will." He said, a hint of developing anger, or was it frustration. He turned and apparated on the spot with a loud crack. As soon as that occurred, Anna's nanny walked into the room carrying a few bags of groceries.

"What was that?" She asked in her sweet soft French accent.

"What was what?" Hermione asked.

"I head voices," said the Nanny putting the grocery bags in the kitchen.

"Oh Emma, that was just the TV," said Hermione, "I had it on for a bit."

"Oh, alright," said Emma hesitantly. She laughed a little, nervously of course. "Well I'm going to go study for class, do you need anything. Hemrione shook her head, wrapping her sweater tighter around herself. She took her mug of tea and headed to the sofa, turning on her television. She didn't even watch, her mind was in other places.

"Oh my blo—"

George walked into the front of the store and did a quick spin in his spot.

"I clean up nice don't I?" He asked with a wink. If this were a cartoon, Hermione was sure her jaw would be on the floor and the only sound coming out of her mouth would sound something like awooga awooga, instead, she managed to compose herself.

"Yes George, you look rather handsome."

He had cut his hair, so that it was considerably shorter, but still covered the top of his ears. He was wearing a brown pinstripe suit with a white dress shirt and a brown tie. His blazer was buttoned up and both pieces showed off a considerably lean body. To prove that he was still somewhat of a joker, he wore plain white converse trainers instead of dress shoes.

"You look rather nice yourself," he said looking her up and down. She wore a white blouse tucked into a high-waisted black skirt. Black stockings covered her shapely legs and she wore pumps.

"Do you have all your papers?" She asked. He held up a blue portfolio and opened it, showing her all of his documents in order to apply for a loan. Initially, he had used the money from the Tri-Wizard Tournament in order to open shop, but now since he had been closed for so long and had used up most of the prior profits, he needed to secure a fairly sizable loan to procure the reopening of the store. He put the portfolio underneath his arm and put his hands in his pockets.

"Sooo, we off then?" He asked. Hermione nodded. They exited the store and onto the street.

"Did you lock up?" Hermione asked. He held up one finger to her, telling her to wait. He pulled his wand out of his pocket and murmured something, the doors of the store clicked shut and the store itself seemed to chirp, like a car locking up.

"Yeah? Yeah?" He asked. Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed.

"You have to admit that's hilarious," He winked. Hermione tried to stifle a grin and instead began to laugh. She slapped his elbow and they continued walking the few short blocks down to Gringott's.

The meeting went well, everything was approved and since Hermione was there to co-sign his loans and her credit was incredibly secure, they managed to leave the bank with little to complain about. Since they were done earlier than they thought they would be at the bank, they went down to a sandwich shop to celebrate. She ordered a butterbeer, and he only drank some pumpkin juice. They chatted about anything and nothing. As Hermione talked George watched and noticed everything about her. The way her eyebrows moved when she got particularly passionate about something, the way her nose crinkled up when she was angry and upset, the way she threw her head back and laughed, her hand movements when she was trying to explain something huge. Even though he saw her happy and laughing, there was a distant far off look deep in her eyes, as if, even through her happiness and joy, she was lonelier than ever. She was beautiful. It was a pity he had never noticed that beauty before. She had a glow that seemed to just spread amongst everyone, her passion was unrivaled.

"What?" She asked, noticing that he was watching her.

"You look pretty," he said with a smile.

"Thank you," said Hermione. Hermione began to turn a deeper shade of red, she was not used to such a lofty compliment.

"So what next?" George asked, leaning back in his chair. Hermione shrugged.

"Well…said Hermione, I guess we start inventing." She put her mug down on the table.

"Yeah!" Said George pumping his fist into the air. He stood up with a bounce and held his arm out, after putting several galleons on the table. After doing the same, Hermione stood up as well. "Milady," he said in mock solemnity.

"Milord," she replied snaking her arm through his. They both laughed to themselves and proceeded to WWW.

George meandered to the back room while Hermione set about cleaning up the showroom. She began to pick up broken jars and bottles and various other joke items lying about on the floor. She transfigured her shoes into something more comfortable and sturdy as she walked amongst the broken jars that had collected along the floor. Throughout the day she heard mild to extreme expletives being uttered in the back rooms, usually preceded by a rather loud explosion.

George had no idea what to do. Before the war, he and Fred had developed a considerable number of ideas for products that they would use in the future, but other than that he had absolutely no idea. He decided, might as well go through what he had already, and create more products for that. Afterwards, he would set about rehiring his staff, hopefully Verity would return and eventually he could hire some more staff after Hermione went into training for the St. Mungos healer program. He would miss her most certainly, but he knew that they would both eventually have to move on. She would periodically pass the large enchanted mirror at the back of his store that he used to watch the front room when it was busy and he would watch her clean. It was a small bit of heaven, she was the only person who had been perceptive to his needs, and likewise did not let him succumb. His family had been treating him like a victim of the plague. He understood why of course

His face.

But it still caused him to feel more alone than ever. Hermione did not allow such foolish sentiments to come to his head. She forced him to view reality. He was forced to move past such a horrible situation and look for the future. With a smile he pulled his wand out of his back pocket, gingerly placed his blazer to the side, loosened his tie and began work, immediately being greeted by an explosion.

OoOOoOOoOOoOOoOOoOOoOOoO

George sat in his office and watched the clock tick ever so slowly. His days passed nowadays in a haze. He had a mountain of paperwork piled on his desk and several meetings lined up to ease his transition into the CEO position. He sat forward on the desk rubbing his temples.

He stood up and walked to his panoramic window and stared out into the skyline. Birds flew over the bay, and the statue herself was covered in fog. He noticed the faint glimmer of gold that usually shone in the sunlight was much duller today, clouds overhead threatening to pour their contents into the bay. He looked at his watch; in a few moments he'd grab his suit jacket, his trench coat and umbrella and head out into the streets to make his way to where he would meet with a potential client for lunch. This client was April Fools' first client in the muggle world and would allow them to expand even further than they were now. By introducing this brand new market into the sales, he would ultimately further the gains of the corporation.

He noticed a small envelope on his desk, no doubt from this morning's owl post while he was in a meeting. He picked it up and read it, it was a letter from Percy attached to a card. The card had a small picture of a stork holding a little bundle flying around the card.

Please join us for the celebration of the birth of Percival Weasley-Jackson on the 12th of December.

He put the card down and opened the folded letter.

Dear George,

It has been a while since I have last seen you. Seriously, sometimes I think you work way too hard. And this is coming from me. Anyways, I hope you'll be able to come, I do miss you and would like to chat with you and I know mum misses you dreadfully as well. Once more, I really hope to see you there and I hope you are well.

Percy.

George placed the letter down and sighed. It had been several months since he had seen everyone, perhaps he'd stop by. His wand began to buzz signaling that he would need to leave soon for the meeting. He opened his small closet, pulled out his blazer and trench coat along with an umbrella and exited his office.

"Goodbye sir," his secretary said. He nodded his head imperceptibly and entered the elevators.

The rain started to pour as he stepped out onto the pavement, causing the streets to become slicker and cars to move ever so quickly and recklessly along the road. Unfortunately George failed to notice everything going on as he went over facts and figures in his head. He headed down the street, entering muggle New York as he headed where the company car would greet him. Not noticing that the light had changed, he stepped out onto the crosswalk before being hit by a car.

Hermione placed her charts down at the nurse's station.

"2304 needs new meds every 30 minutes, and I just prescribed three Percocet a day for 3450."

"Yes, doctor," said the nurse taking the charts and heading upstairs. Hermione leaned against the station in a semi-exhausted state. Jenny came and mimicked her.

"Ugh," she stated simply.

"Tell me about it," Hermione said.

"If Thanksgiving wasn't coming up, I really don't know what I'd do," said Jenny, "I need a break from this place." Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Well let's see, considering the one day I had off this week I was called in, I'd say I agree." Hermione laughed, or at least tried to laugh along with her. Her mind was still on Ron from yesterday, he was surprisingly understanding. She missed him dreadfully, but knew she could not go back, not so long as she was keeping this a secret. She didn't want to either, after all, should she just throw away ten years of her life?

"Mia!" Jenny interrupted. Hermione came out of her daze and noticed their pagers all buzzing with the trademark 911. She leapt up and they both proceeded to run to the ambulance bay putting on the yellow smocks as they did.

"What's it this time?" Margaret asked as she made it outside. She looked thrilled, as she had been doing rectal exams all morning.

"Car accident," said Dr. Fischer, the head resident. "I only need one other person on the case." The three girls stood in front of her hopefully. "Granger." She said with a slight nod. Hermione nodded in approval as the rest of the girls walked away sadly.

"Oh stop complaining," Fischer called after them. The rain seemed to be letting out around the overhang. Ambulance sirens came blaring in from the side as the two of them braced themselves for whatever should happen.

The ambulance screeched to a halt and the doors promptly flew open revealing two paramedics with incredibly bloody hands.

"30 year old male, hit by a car downtown," the one woman said as they brought the stretcher down. Hermione noticed something familiar about this person but pushed it away, the past few days had taken a toll on her.

"What do you see Granger," Fischer asked. Hermione looked as they pulled into a trauma bay.

"Sevaral bruises indicating possible broken ribs, internal bleeding, and a severe concussion to the head." She said.

"Good, page for a neuro consult," said Dr Fischer to one of the nurses. Hermione took this time to take a good look at the victim. He really did look familiar, although with the bruised face, the blood in the hair, and the swelling, she couldn't exactly tell who it was. He was laying on his side when a paramedic handed her a baggie with his personal effects, a wallet and a set of keys. Just as she was opening the wallet, the paramedic handed her something else.

"He was also holding on to this, I don't know what it is," he said. Hermione nodded, her breath catching in her throat. Although it was snapped in half, there was absolutely no denying it. She began to hyperventilate, not knowing what to do. Memories of a night ten years ago were coming back to her. A thought hit her.

There are a lot of us, it can't be, she thought. She walked slowly over to the trauma room where nurses monitored him. They stepped aside as Hermione walked to the other side of his head. She slowly pushed his head to the side, making sure it faced the ceiling and all of her questions were answered immediately. She opened the baggie and her suspicions were confirmed even further as the wallet fell to the ground. Dr. Fischer came back in.

"Granger, do we have an identity?" She asked.

"Yes," said Hermione knitting her eyebrows together, willing herself to stay calm.

"Well…" said Dr. Fischer expecting something.

"G-G-George Weasley," she said, trying to compose herself.