A/N: As promised, here's the continuation - please let me know what you think!

Thanks as always to accio-broom for your help.

Please let me know what you think!

April 26, 2013, 5:00pm

The cool breeze was bracing against my cheeks as I stepped out of Dr. Firenze's office and onto the street. Chicago had been teased by a few warm days earlier in the week, but now the temperature had dropped back down into the forties, a cruel reminder that summer was still a long way off. A few of the trees lining the sidewalk had already started to sprout their leaf buds, which were trembling as gusts of wind rolled through. The days were getting longer, though, and it was still light outside as I made the twenty-minute walk back home.

Typically, my mind was calmer after I left my therapy sessions. Dr. Firenze had a way of putting me at ease and reframing my challenges that always seemed to get me to a better place. That day's session, however, filled me with a new kind of anxiety. At least the uneasiness offered me a slight break from the problems that had been marinating in my mind for the past several months, but I was still on edge as I walked toward my apartment.

First and foremost, though, our meeting reminded me that I hadn't talked with my mother in almost a month. I pulled out my phone, found my childhood phone number in the contacts, and sent the call. My mother answered after only one ring.

"I was wondering when we'd be hearing from you!" she yelled as though she was trying to make sure I heard her even without the aid of a telephone.

"Hi, Mom, how are you?"

"We're all fine here. George and Angelina just stopped by the other day. The kids are getting so big!"

"That's great, Mom, I'm glad they came over."

"And what about you? It sounds windy there; are you outside?"

"Yeah, I'm walking home."

"Home from work?"

My mother knew that I went to therapy, but it always seemed to make her uncomfortable when I talked about it. I had always assumed it was a generational thing or some kind of feeling that the members of our family should be strong enough to make it on our own, but for whatever reason, I rarely brought it up again. "Yeah, from work," I lied.

"Excellent. I hope you and Harry aren't working too hard. Is he there too?"

"No, we left separately."

"I'm sure you miss living with him, but I hope you're giving him and Ginny their space. Newlyweds need time alone."

"Trust me, Mom, I have no desire to infringe upon their space. We see each other sometimes and that's fine."

"And how about Hermione?"

My heart sank as soon as she finished her question. I knew it was coming, of course. She always wanted to know if we were back in touch. It was sweet to know that she was rooting for us, but having to explain over and over again that our relationship was as fractured as ever was becoming tiring and always left a knot in my stomach.

"I don't know, Mom, I still haven't talked to her."

"Such a shame," she continued, tutting through the clanging of pots and pans in the background. "I still hold out hope that you two will find your way back to each other."

"Yeah, well…not much I can do about it for now."

"No, I suppose not. How about any other girls, though?"

"Ugh, Mom, come on. You're being weird."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Ronald. I'm sorry it's weird to want my son to be happy! I happen to know that you're a wonderful man and that any woman would be lucky to have you, and I'll do everything in my power to make sure you know it, too."

"You have to say that," I replied with a laugh.

"I don't believe I have to do anything. You're a kind, caring, and generous person. I'm sure that other people have seen it as well."

I'll give her credit, she never wavered in her confidence in me. All mothers think those types of things about their sons, of course, but mine made sure I heard about it often. Perhaps it was because I had just been talking about those topics with Dr. Firenze as well, but it hit home a little harder than usual that afternoon, and I really appreciated hearing it.

"Thanks, Mom."

"You keep your head up and your eyes wide open, Ronald Weasley. She's out there somewhere."

It took me longer than I would've liked for Hermione's face to stop flashing through my mind, and I shook my head to try to force the image out. "I'll do my best."

"Good. Now when are we seeing you again? And don't even dream of telling me it won't be until Thanksgiving."

"No, I'll see if I can find time to come home over the summer. Maybe me and Harry and Ginny can all come together sometime, okay?"

"That sounds lovely, dear. Your brother Bill is considering coming home over the summer, too. Perhaps all of you can discuss and find a date that works for everyone."

"Okay, I'll see what he's thinking."

"Anyway, I'm going to have to let you go, your father just walked in and dinner's on the table."

"No problem, take care, Mom. Say hi to Dad for me."

"I will, dear. You take care of yourself, and remember…head up, eyes open."

"I will, and you too."

As I hung up the call, a rather uncharacteristic surge of gratitude toward my mother passed through me as I turned onto my street. She always wanted the best for me, of course; all parents do. The older I got, though, the more I realized that her approach to intervening in my life was far more balanced than I'd ever given her credit for in my youth. We were allowed to be ourselves and grow individually, but she always did just enough steering to keep us from flying off the rails. Seeing that equilibrium allowed me to tolerate the nagging and constant worry because I knew she would always find a way to walk the line between helpful and annoying when things really mattered. It was quite impressive.

Bare branches clawed at my head in the wind, and I ducked to avoid getting scratched as my apartment came into view. I slowed my steps for a moment to avoid running into my downstairs neighbor who was on their way out for a run. Colin Creevy was a nice enough guy, but he never stopped talking.

Once I was inside, I tossed my bag on the ground and grabbed a beer from the fridge before crashing down onto the couch and flipping through the channels. Sportscenter only kept me entertained for so long as my mind kept replaying the conversations I'd had with Dr. Firenze and my mother.

Put myself out there, put myself out there. I can do that. I used to do it all the time. Bar crawls, trivia nights, networking events, you name it. What's so different now? If anything, I'm older and more confident. Besides, worst case scenario, I don't have a good time and it's one less night I stay home playing video games and watching TV.

Maybe it was the fact that I'd downed my entire double IPA in a matter of minutes, but I was feeling braver than I'd felt in a while. Before I lost my nerve, I picked up my phone and called Harry.

"Ron?" Harry answered.

"Hey man, how's it going?"

"About the same as it was two hours ago, you?"

"Good, good," I answered, trying not to seem too different than usual. Harry knew me so well, he'd surely see through my anxiety. "What are you guys up to tonight?"

"Oh, well…we've got some errands to run after dinner, I think. Why, what's up?"

"Nothing. Hey, I've got a question for you. You know the Griffin project you're working on?"

"Sure, what about it?" he asked, his tone making it clear that he knew something strange was happening.

"Is Katie Bell still assigned to that team?"

"Yeah…"

"Okay, great. I was wondering, do you think she would be interested in getting a beer with me after work one day?"

The line went silent. For several moments, all I could hear was the sound of Harry's TV in the background. Finally, he sighed on the other end. "Umm, what do you mean, exactly?"

"Oh, not necessarily like a date or anything. Just as friends, I guess."

After another long pause, Harry asked, "Ron, where is this coming from? Is everything okay?"

"Course it is, what do you mean?"

"It's just a little out of nowhere, don't you think? I've been trying to be kind of…delicate about bringing up anything about your social life for a while now because I didn't think you'd want to talk about it. Especially because I didn't want you to feel upset with Ginny and me for not being around as much."

"No, it's not that. I understand that you two need your space. Besides, I don't know, there wasn't much to talk about for a while, right? But that doesn't mean I'm not up for trying to improve my situation," I said, pulling myself up off the sofa and pacing back and forth across the room. Why was he being so difficult about this?

"Did something happen? Or did something change?"

"No, everything's fine, I guess I just feel like it's time to get out there a little bit. It's been a while since…well, you know. That night. I was talking with my therapist about it today and-"

"Ahh," Harry interrupted. "I see."

"See what?"

"No, nothing. It just makes a bit more sense now."

"Do you have a problem with me talking with my therapist?" I asked, anger seeping into my tone.

"No, of course not. Ron, I think it's great that you have someone that's helping you navigate things. All I'm saying is that it makes more sense that you're asking about these things if you just met with Dr. Firenze."

"Yeah, well, I did. And we were talking about how it would probably be good for me to try to, you know, hang out with other people. Not just sit around every evening thinking about, well, the past."

"Sure," Harry replied quietly. "Okay, got it. In that case, I think hanging out with Katie would be a great idea. But I have to be honest Ron, she's probably going to interpret it as more than just a friendly thing, you know?"

"Really? Why?"

"Are you actually dumb or just playing dumb? I mean, I know you were oblivious back in high school, but-"

"The point, please?" I begged.

"She's had a crush on you for a while. Even you can't be that blind. The food you make for our get-togethers is really good, but the way she talks about it, someone would think you're the head chef at Alinea or something."

"You think so? Hmm, I hadn't really noticed."

"Then you're even denser than I thought you were."

"Well, you know what," I said, my neck muscles tensing as I took the plunge, "that's fine if she thinks that. She's attractive and fun to talk to. If she thinks the same about me, then might as well give it a shot, right?"

The line went quiet for a minute before Harry took a deep breath and exhaled. "Are you sure this is what you want? Like I said, don't get me wrong, I think it's a good thing to get out of the house more often, but I just want to make sure you've thought this through…you know, to make sure it's fair to both of you."

"It's fine, man! We're talking about getting a drink. I'm not asking her to marry me or anything."

"And…Hermione?"

Goddammit, Harry, why can't you just help me out? Fucking CIA interrogation over here.

"I mean, what can I do? I haven't heard from her in months. I stopped trying to call or text a long time ago because she never answered. I'm pretty sure she moved, although how would I know if she doesn't talk to me? I don't know, man, I'd love to mend that fence, but I'm out of options here."

"Just mend the fence?"

"C'mon, man, stop busting my balls. What do you want me to say? I'm really trying here."

"Yeah, sure, sorry. Umm, and just so you know, she did move, but she's still around. If I knew you didn't know about that, I would've…well, anyway, that's what happened."

So Harry knew? Which surely meant Ginny knew too? It was all becoming overwhelming. I suppose on one level I knew that Hermione had moved; I had seen it with my own eyes. But finding out second-hand and weeks later like that really pissed me off. In therapy, we'd talked a lot about how Hermione had been just as much to blame as me for our falling out. It had been a challenge for me to believe that at first, but the more evidence I saw that she hadn't been considering my feelings and still wasn't considering my feelings, the more I realized that Dr. Firenze had been right.

None of this was Harry's fault, but I couldn't help the snippiness in my voice. "Yeah, got it, loud and clear. Anyway, Katie then?"

"Okay, if you're sure," Harry replied, sounding resigned. "I'll talk to her on Monday."

"Great, thanks," I said, pulling the phone away from my face and jabbing the red icon to hang up.

The blood was pounding through my head as I flicked on a light and rubbed my temples. Tossing my phone onto the coffee table, I collapsed face-first onto the couch again, burying my head in the cushion. What was I thinking? Of course Katie would think I'm asking her on a date! And then why was I acting like that was fine? It doesn't really seem fine! Could I ever see myself being fine with that?

Questions continued to swirl through my head until my stomach rumbled, reminding me that, despite the butterflies swarming through my insides, I was at least still capable of hunger. As I peeled myself off the sofa and sauntered into the kitchen to heat up some of yesterday's leftover Thai food, I realized that I hadn't been on a first date since high school. What does someone even wear on a first date? If it even was a date, of course. Keep it casual or make an effort? Cologne? And should I straighten up my place first? I mean, what if things go better than expected?

Great, more questions!

Asking Harry for help would be less than useless; he'd been off the market for over a decade. As I slumped down into a chair at the table, I picked at my dinner. It was from one of my favorite local restaurants, and the food usually only improved with a reheat on day two. But I found myself becoming so anxious already that it tasted flavorless. I set down my fork and pushed back from the table, figuring that a walk might help me clear my head. Pulling on my sneakers and jacket, I jogged back out into the cool spring evening and started down the sidewalk, my brain a jumbled mess of thoughts and worries.

April 29, 2013, 9:20am

My body did me no favors as I stumbled into work on Monday morning, tripping over the carpet and banging my shoulder against the wall as I dragged myself to my office. The weekend had been a miserable mix of boring days and sleepless nights. It didn't matter how much I tried to think of my upcoming date with Katie as just something between friends, Harry's words kept creeping into my consciousness, reminding me that she would think we were going on a date. I didn't want to hurt someone that I considered a friend, but I had a feeling I would never be interested in her that way. Hopefully I'd be able to make my intentions clear early on, and hopefully she would be okay with the arrangement.

As I sat down in my chair, a slip of paper tucked into my monitor caught my eye. I grabbed the note and unfolded it after tossing my bag into the corner of the room.

Ron,

Everything's set - tonight at seven at the Cracked Kettle. She's really excited to see you.

- Harry

Panic clutched at my chest as the familiar tightening feeling took hold. Why did it have to be so soon? And why there? Didn't Harry remember all the time we'd spent there with Hermione? Of course, I didn't have any other plans, but it still seemed rather sudden and poorly thought out.

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dialed Harry's number, my pulse racing and hands shaking as I tried to calm myself by sitting down.

"Hey, Ron."

"Tonight?!" I squeaked, far less relaxed than I intended. "Nice timing, Potter!"

"What? You said you wanted to hang out! So, go for it!" Harry exclaimed.

"Yeah, but I'll barely have time to figure things out by the time I get home!"

"Bullshit, like you haven't already been thinking about it all weekend."

"That-that's beside the point," I stammered. Fucking Harry.

"Look, do you want me to see if a later date would work?"

I sighed, my shoulders sliding down the back of my desk chair. As my mind calmed and my thinking cleared up, I realized that it didn't really matter when it happened. Might as well jump right in. "No, it's fine. Sorry, just kind of unexpected I guess."

"That's what I thought."

"I guess I should find her around the office later today and solidify plans."

"Oh, we're all off-site today. Everyone on the Griffin project is at the law offices of Bones, Crouch, and Hopkirk. They're our first major client."

"Weird name."

"You're telling me."

"Okay, then," I exhaled as my headache started to subside. "I guess I'll just…be there at seven."

"Sounds good, Ron. I gotta go, I'll talk to you later."

"See ya."

Setting the phone down on my desk, I dropped my head into my hands. Even though I worried that perhaps this hadn't been the best idea, I was committed. Time to put myself out there like everyone kept suggesting.

It's just a drink, no big deal. If it's weird…well, there are plenty of other firms around here that would hire me, right?