A/N: My continued gratitude to everyone for following along with this story, and I hope you continue to enjoy the last several chapters. Please continue to drop a note with your feedback after reading. Hearing your thoughts is my favorite part of all of this!
Accio-broom, I couldn't have done it without you. Thanks for all of your beta help along the way!
The last two chapters saw Ron finally deciding that it was time to try to move on. Who thinks that will go perfectly smoothly? Read on to find out…
April 29, 2013, 6:20pm
An exasperated huff slipped out of my mouth. Why was my hair so difficult to manage? I could never get it to lay down the way I wanted it to, and it was fighting me harder than usual as I was trying to get out the door in time. As I stared into the mirror in my bathroom, pulling the comb over my scalp and redoing my work countless times, conversation topics kept rolling through my mind. Family? No, that's super boring. Childhood? Same, plus what if it's revealing in a creepy way? Work? Ugh, that place is crappy enough without having to relive it.
I knew why I was having so much trouble, of course. It shouldn't be hard to talk with someone you consider a friend, and with the right person, it wouldn't be. Try as I might to rein in my imagination, my memory kept drifting back to nights in high school when Hermione and I would talk on the phone for so long that one of us would fall asleep and the other would have to wake them up by shouting into the receiver. It was like we never ran out of things to discuss. No matter how well I knew her, there was always something new to discover.
How well I thought I knew her, at least.
Checking my watch, I put away my comb and hair gel, gave myself one last check in the mirror, and stepped back into my bedroom. As I grabbed my wallet off of my nightstand, my attention was drawn to the framed picture of me with my two best friends at our high school graduation. I picked it up and stared at it for a moment, recollections of the best year of my life swimming through my head. How close had we really gotten to something more? Would one word or action have made all the difference? It was an exercise that I'd found myself engaging in more and more over the last several years no matter how much I knew it would only make me feel worse. She looked beautiful in the picture; her dazzling smile, the way her curls cascaded down her shoulders, her hand tight around my waist. God, I'd been such an idiot to screw things up.
It should have been her.
I set the picture back down on the table and took one more glance before swiping my keys and hustling out of the room. After throwing on my jacket and slipping on my shoes, I popped out the front door and started down the street toward the subway station. It was dusk, and although the sun had set, its faint glow persisted, illuminating the western horizon like a fading spotlight. In my neighbor's front yard, a few daffodils were starting to bloom, giving off a faint floral aroma as I walked past. The evening breeze was still harsh though, numbing my fingertips until I shoved my hands into my coat pockets.
For some reason, I felt dirty, almost like I was cheating on someone just by going to meet up with Katie. It wasn't difficult for me to realize how pathetic that emotion was, but something in the back of my mind kept telling me to turn around and go back home. I knew it was just the nerves; I would probably have a good time once I got there. But as I stepped onto the train and sat down, leaning my forehead against the cold plastic window, my dread only increased. Forget butterflies in my stomach, swarms of hornets were buzzing around in there, stinging me repeatedly. The back of my head felt as though a vice were clamping down on it, the handle competing another revolution with every Red Line stop we passed. In what felt like mere seconds, we'd arrived at the Argyle stop, and I traipsed onto the platform and down the stairs.
The light had dimmed even further when I stepped out to the sidewalk and towards the restaurant. It was only about three blocks away, and even though I was already a bit late, I moved slowly. At one point, I even stopped to check out a window display of a bike shop. It was all a stall, of course. Despite my dawdling, the restaurant soon came into view, my heart rate jumping when I spied the sign above the door. As soon as I pulled the door open, the nostalgic aroma of their signature bangers and mash flooded my nostrils, reminding me of my college days. Which might have been why I didn't flinch when I first laid eyes on the woman sitting on the bench next to the door. A spark finally lit inside my mind, however, causing me to do a double take back toward her as my brain tried desperately to process the situation.
Hermione?
September 16, 2012, 8:40am
THAT ABSOLUTE JERK! What a complete ASSHOLE!
The soles of Hermione's feet hurt as she marched down the sidewalk, keenly aware that she was only wearing Ron's t-shirt and a pair of underwear. A gust of wind nearly tipped her over as she stormed away from his apartment, cursing him under her breath the whole way. How could he have said that to her? Him of all people, the only one she had trusted enough to tell about her plans, her hopes and dreams, her concerns, her fears. Ron certainly had a history of putting his foot in his mouth, but this time really took the cake. Of all the insensitive, boorish, judgmental comments he'd ever-
"Fuck!" she yelled as she stepped on an acorn. The pain radiating up her leg finally caused her to sit on the steps of the house three doors down from Ron and pull her shoes on, trying to lace them as quickly as possible. Walking in heels was a pain in the ass, but at least her feet wouldn't end up bloody.
Why did it have to end like that? Things were going so well! They were both about to get exactly what they'd wanted for years; decades, even! Until Ron had to develop some stupid misplaced sense of chivalry to the point of slut-shaming her, at least. God, what an unbelievable dick! Why can't he just enjoy things and live in the moment once in his fucking life? Everything was ruined, and just as they were both about to be happy for a change…
Even though it was early on a Sunday morning and the streets were nearly deserted, she still felt quite self-conscious at her immodest dress, walking as fast as she could towards her apartment. Once she had gotten almost halfway home, a car pulled up next to her, matching her pace as the windows rolled down. Anxiety seized her immediately, her chest tightening and her heart pounding in her ears. Hidden by the crumpled dress hanging over her left hand, she tightened her fist around her keys, ensuring that one was poking out through the gap in her fingers just in case.
"Looking hot, girl!" one of the twenty-something-year-old men inside shouted.
"Hell yeah, walk of shame, baby!" another called.
It was the final straw. The dam broke, and tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Fuck you! Just fuck off!" she howled, turning away from them and covering her face with her hands.
The car sped away, though Hermione could hear them laughing for at least another half a block. No matter how much she tried to muffle her cries, they kept coming for the last four blocks, leaving her face splotchy and swollen by the time her street sign came into view. As she turned the corner a block away from her front door, she nearly ran into a jogger coming around the building.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't watch-" she started, shaking her head and trying to hide her tear-streaked face.
"Hermione?"
She spun around quickly, never in her life so happy to see the face of Ginny Weasley.
"Hermione, are you okay? What happened?" Ginny asked, immediately throwing her arm around the sobbing woman's shoulder.
Hermione could barely contain the smile breaking through as relief flooded through her. She was still unable to stop crying, though. "Yeah, I'm fine, it's n-no…don't worry, I'm okay."
"You're speed-walking through the neighborhood early on a Sunday morning wearing…is that my brother's shirt? Okay, tell you what, why don't we get you home? I'll stay with you for a bit; you can tell me a little more about what happened."
"Umm, okay. Thanks, Ginny."
Hermione was still shaky on the way home, but with Ginny's help, she made it to her building and up the stairs to her apartment. As soon as she was inside, she crashed onto the couch, burying her face in her pillow as Ginny made them two cups of coffee with the Keurig. By the time the redhead returned to the living room, Hermione's breathing had returned to normal and her eyes had dried.
"Thanks," Hermione said with one final sniffle, accepting the coffee cup from Ginny.
"So," Ginny said, sitting across from her in a lilac armchair. "What happened?"
"Ugh, it was a nightmare," Hermione replied, unsure how much to reveal. It was Ginny's brother, after all, and nobody wants to know those types of details about their brother. "Things were going really well…until they weren't."
"Okay, I'm going to need a little more here. Did he say something? Did he-oh God, he didn't try something, did he?"
"No, no, of course not. He was a perfect gentleman. If anyone was pushing things in, you know, that direction, it was me."
"Ha, I knew it!" Ginny exclaimed before quickly wiping the grin off of her face. "Sorry, I interrupted. How did this even happen, though?"
"I suppose it started when I was too tired to leave, so he offered to let me stay in his bed. He was even going to take the couch so that it wouldn't be awkward, but I convinced him it wasn't a big deal. It was fine at first. We talked for a bit and then just fell asleep. But I couldn't sleep. Anyway, a few hours later I woke him up because I was crying about my life being a mess right now, not being able to figure out my future or whatever. He consoled me and told me he would help me with whatever I needed. I don't know, something in me just snapped, and I kind of…pounced. I know you two find each other horribly annoying at times and you bicker constantly, but to me, he's always been such a source of comfort. And, at that moment, I could've really used some comfort."
Ginny stared straight at Hermione, no emotion on her face. "Don't worry, I'm listening, just trying to mentally block out certain implications of this conversation. Continue."
"I see," Hermione said with a wistful smile. "So just as I thought we might finally…you know, he asked me to stop. I was disappointed, but I wanted to respect his wishes, so I stopped. The next morning, we were talking and it happened again, only this time he started reciprocating. 'Great,' I thought, 'we're finally on the same page.' Then he pumps the brakes again and it led to a huge argument culminating with him basically calling me a slut for sleeping with Cormac and then staying over with him the next night."
"He said what?!"
"I know! I just lost it, started screaming at him and everything. I grabbed my stuff, told him I never wanted to see him again, and stormed out. And then you found me."
"God, I can't believe it! I mean, I've seen my brother do some pretty stupid things, but I never thought I'd see the day that he insulted you."
"Right?!" Hermione said, hands flying through the air as she became more animated by the second. "And I had just gotten through telling him that I had moved here for him, that I came here just because he was here. Which is true, by the way!"
"Really? Oh, Hermione, that's so sw-"
"No, it's not! Not anymore it's not! It was right up until he had to open his fucking mouth and ruin everything!"
Ginny was still for several moments, allowing the silence to swell in the room until it was nearly deafening. Her mouth opened and closed several times before she finally spoke. "Okay, so you know I'm happy to hang out all morning and bash my brother. It's one of my favorite activities. That said, though, I can't help but feel that I'm missing something here. I know Ron pretty well, and I can't imagine him saying that out of nowhere, especially about you. I mean, it's you, Hermione. He's never gotten over you."
Against her will, Hermione's insides twisted on themselves and her muscles tensed. Part of her had always suspected that he had never really stopped pursuing her, but he was so timid about it at times. She found it suddenly difficult to maintain eye contact with Ginny, turning and staring out the window instead. "I-I guess I may have implied that he didn't actually care about me. He talked about how I still always spend time with other people instead of him. And I guess he maybe has a point. And then…"
"Yeah?" Ginny asked, leaning forward in her chair.
"I…kinda tried to rationalize my fling with Cormac for a minute there. Remember how I told you that I'd gone out with him the night before last?"
"Right, and he was a smarmy prick to you?"
"Well, yes. Ron called me out on it and then things took a turn for the worst. Don't get me wrong, I told him it was nothing and a mistake, but it clearly still bothered him a lot."
"Sure, that makes sense."
They both sipped their coffee as a robin flew into the tree branches just outside the window, packing down some pieces of grass she'd found to fill out her nest. Hermione inhaled deeply, allowing the nutty and smoky notes in the coffee to fill her nose. Bones aching, she lay down flat on the sofa, her body weary but not tired. At least it was Sunday.
"So, where do you think you're going to go from here?" Ginny finally posed, setting her empty mug down on the side table.
Heaving a sigh out of her lungs, Hermione pulled herself upright again and ran her hands over her face. "No idea. I don't want to just…cut him out of my life, but those comments were so hurtful. It makes me question how much trust to put in him, you know?"
"Oh, I get it, believe me. Can I give you my take on it, though, even though you may not want to hear it?"
"I feel like I'm going to regret this, but sure, let's hear it."
"Okay. I think both of you have said and done things that have made the other uncomfortable for years. It's kind of your MO. I've seen this pattern over and over again dating back to when you two first started high school. And, to be honest, it's kind of infuriating to watch from the outside because it's just so crystal clear that you two would be happy together if you could only get out of your own way."
"You're right, I don't think I want to hear-"
"And although this is a particularly vicious chapter in your history," Ginny plowed ahead, "and while I certainly would never condone what Ron said no matter the circumstances, I do understand at least a little bit why he put a stop to things and why he was in that defensive mindset. I mean, can you blame him for wanting to take some time before jumping into the sack when you were having what sounds like a bit of an existential crisis earlier in the night? Especially if you were, as you said, 'pushing things in that direction', which maybe made him nervous?
"He cares about you so much, Hermione. Even when you were gone and barely speaking to him, he never stopped caring. Even when you were showing up late to his parties because you were out with your other friends, he never stopped caring. Which, by the way, and keep in mind that you know I still love you…that was honestly kind of not cool. He's kept the flame burning for you no matter how much heartache it caused him. And I can't help but think that even though his words came out all wrong, the sentiment was probably based on genuine concern for you, wanting nothing but the best for you, and not wanting to ruin the chance he's been dying for since high school by rushing into things. I'm not suggesting that you have to do anything right away. I'm not even suggesting that you have to forgive him if you really don't want to. Take your time, think about it, but…don't lose him. There, I said it. Now you can hate me if you like."
It took a long time to process Ginny's words. If Hermione thought her mind had been a messy jumble of thoughts and reflections before, it only got more tangled and complicated as she replayed her conversation with Ron in her mind. Guilt had found its way in as well, especially as she thought about how many times she'd bailed on Ron because of something totally unimportant with her other friend group. She was still upset with him, of course, but glimmers of understanding started to peek through the haze. What if he did just say those things because he genuinely cared and couldn't figure out another way? What if he said them because he really cared? And why did she have to be so pushy about sex? That part, she was humiliated to realize, made her feel more than a little gross.
"I guess," Hermione finally replied. "I'm not forgiving him anytime soon, though. And he's still a dick for saying those things."
"Definitely a dick; I've thought so for years."
Hermione grinned and shook her head. "No, you haven't."
"Course I have, what do you mean?"
"You talk a big game about finding your brother annoying, but you revere him. It's so obvious."
A blush crept into Ginny's cheeks as she scoffed. "Ugh, I mean, I guess he's fine sometimes. But this isn't about me and him, it's about you two."
"Yeah, I know. Hey, what are you even doing up already? Why were you jogging when you have a game later today?"
"Oh, it's my normal ritual," Ginny answered, standing up and stretching before she collected both coffee mugs and brought them into the kitchen. "I always go for a warm-up jog the morning of a match. Helps me clear my head."
"I see. Well, I'm sorry for, umm, unclearing it."
"Nonsense, you're one of my best friends, Hermione. I'm happy to help. In fact, I'll do you one better. You let me know how I can help you with your plans for the future and I'll do whatever I can. I know you'd asked Ron, but I'm guessing that wouldn't really be an option at the moment."
"Oh, Ginny, that's so sweet, but you really don't have to d-"
"Stop, it's the least I can do. Just let me know how I can help, okay?"
Hermione nodded. "When the time comes, I'll let you know. Thank you, Ginny…for everything."
"Of course!" Ginny replied. "Anyway, I should be going. We've got a big match today and I need to get over there soon. Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine, thanks. Err, I'll be fine."
"You're sure? Want me to go get you a pint of ice cream or something?"
"No, thank you, though," Hermione replied with a chuckle. "Good luck this afternoon."
"Thanks. Take care, Hermione. I'll call you later to check in, okay?"
"Sounds great."
The door clicked shut, and Hermione found herself alone again. Her mind kept returning to Ron's bedroom, thinking if there was anything she should've done differently to avoid such a terrible outcome. The more she thought about him, the more her chest tightened. Maybe he really did just act the way he did out of respect. Fury still coursed through her when she thought about his words, though. That wound wasn't going to heal any time soon no matter how badly she wanted for there to be an easy solution to this problem. There was no way around it, it was just going to take time.
Only after several minutes of leaning against the wall in the entryway did she realize that tears were still falling down her cheeks. She wiped her face and walked into the bathroom, turning on the hot water in the shower and brushing her teeth before pulling off the shirt that Ron had lent her. With one last look at it, she balled it up and hurled it into the garbage can. Sobs racked her body again as she stepped into the shower, the hot water spraying in her face, hoping it would somehow wash away her pain.
October 20, 2012, 11:25pm
With a jolt, the cab pulled away from the curb. Hermione adjusted her dress as she sat in the backseat, watching the Field Museum disappear from her view. A small white organza bag full of Jordan almonds sat on the seat next to her alongside her purse, a wedding favor from an event that she'd rather forget. As happy as she was for Harry and Ginny, the night had only served to dredge up her worst memories.
In the time between that fateful night and the wedding, she and Ron hadn't seen each other at all. Hermione had called Oliver Wood soon after Ginny had left her apartment and told him that she wouldn't be returning to Cisco. Retaining contact with her agent proved fruitful as she was able to book one small commercial for a local pharmacy, but otherwise, she'd been spending her days reading, exercising, and trying to refocus her mind. Fortunately, she had saved enough money from her acting days to be able to get by without a job, although she tried to live as frugally as possible on principle. Thoughts about her future plans jumped around her brain constantly, each more far-fetched than the next. By the time she showed up at the wedding, she was no closer to having a goal in mind, but she felt more centered than she had in years.
And then she saw him. Even though she knew he'd be there, seeing Ron for the first time in over a month had been a bit of a shock. As soon as she'd spotted him walking toward her, multiple facets of her brain started warring with each other. She had naively hoped that she would feel nothing but cold indifference, but once his eyes locked on hers, she was anything but apathetic. Anger was the most prominent emotion, but she had to tamp down a fair amount of longing and desire as well. Forgiveness entered her mind briefly, but she knew immediately that it was too soon for that. For a second, she contemplated just walking away and avoiding the inevitable. Part of her, although not the part she'd necessarily be proud to be associated with, wanted to pull him into a soundproof bathroom stall, strip him down, and lock the door. It was a dizzying array of feelings, and her head was spinning by the time he stood in front of her.
In the end, they'd talked, he'd tried his best to explain himself, and they'd gone their separate ways. All in all, it should've been a safe, benign outcome that they both could be satisfied with for the time being. So why did she feel so horrible? And why did his face keep popping into her mind even now as the cab was putting miles of distance between them?
She had listened to everything he'd said. While nothing he could say would ever make up for his words, the sincerity of his remorse was painfully obvious, and it was all she could do not to cry even as she rode home.
A twinkling of bells snapped her out of her trance, and she grabbed her vibrating cell phone from her clutch. The caller ID read "Ginny Weasley", but that couldn't be right. Perhaps Ginny had left her phone somewhere?
"Hello?" she said after accepting the call.
"Hermione?" Ginny said. "Hey, I wasn't sure if I'd catch you."
"Why the hell are you calling me right now?" Hermione replied, stifling a sniff. "You should be…I don't know, doing things I don't want to know about."
"We will, don't worry, but I just wanted to check in. The look on your face when we left worried me a bit. Are you okay?"
Hermione took a moment to think before answering. "I'm fine, don't worry."
"It had to be pretty awkward, I know. I'm sorry you two had to run into each other like that."
"Ginny, are you apologizing for getting married and having the gall to invite your own brother?"
"You know what I mean!"
"I know, I know," Hermione replied with a snicker. "But no, it was fine. We talked, so that's something."
"I saw that. Did it go alright?"
"Yeah, I guess. He apologized…a lot, actually."
"And? Did that seem to make any difference?"
"You know, I was just thinking about that. Honestly, I think it did," Hermione said, a weight lifting off of her chest as she allowed herself to finally admit that Ron's words had had an effect on her. "Hearing it directly from him, seeing his face as he said the words…it was impactful."
"Good impactful or bad impactful?"
"For now, just…impactful. And, for what it's worth, I apologized, too. I've thought about this enough to recognize that I wasn't blameless either. I know I haven't exactly been the best friend to him recently."
"Fair enough. That's something then, I suppose."
"Yeah, I guess it is," Hermione replied. It was surprising to her that it was that easy to say. Maybe all she needed was a talk with a good friend to realize that things had changed.
"Look, I don't mean to sound like I'm trying to push you two back together. I hope you understand that. I just want you to be happy. I'm not going to hide the fact that I think you two would both be happier together, but I realize that that's not my place, so I'm sorry if it seemed like I was being presumptuous or forward or whatever."
"Don't worry, Gin, I know where you're coming from."
"Thanks. Well, I should get going, we're pulling up to the hotel."
"Right, sounds good. So, have fun? And, uhh, make sure you have a safe word?"
"Ha, good idea. We'll talk soon. I'm…really happy that you're okay."
"Me too. Thanks so much, Gin. Talk soon."
"Bye!"
Once she'd hung up the phone, Hermione couldn't help but laugh under her breath. Only Ginny would call someone from her wedding night limousine to make sure they were okay. She really was a great friend.
The realization that some of her anger towards Ron had faded had surprised her, though. At first, it made her feel weak; what kind of person crumbles like that just because of a few nice words? But it was Ron. They weren't just words with him. She was positive that he meant everything he had said, and it was easy to see how much it was tearing him up inside.
Guess that makes two of us.
There was one final thing that had grabbed her attention when she had first caught Ron's gaze. Right when he'd stepped in front of her, she'd caught a whiff of his tea tree oil shampoo, and her heart had skipped a beat. She'd tried to convince herself that she'd imagined it, but it was no use. No matter how angry she was with him at the moment, she couldn't deny that something was stirring inside of her, something down deep. Feelings for Ron were returning, and she'd never been more irritated and perplexed.
November 28, 2012, 1:35pm
Even though Hermione had just returned home from the Thanksgiving holiday a couple of days ago and still had a ton of laundry and cleaning to do, she couldn't stop the plethora of ideas dashing through her head if she tried. It had been years since she'd felt so invigorated, and she was fairly certain she knew why. In fact, she was so focused that when her friends Sasha and Michelle had texted her the night before with an invitation to the opening of Chicago's newest and highly exclusive nightclub, she had simply ignored the message and continued list-making and brainstorming.
The conversation between her and Ron on the way back to Chicago had been brief, but it had been quite moving. He hadn't told her how much he cared about her in quite some time, and hearing it again had caused a switch to flip in her mind. By the time she'd woken up the following morning, more of her anger and resentment toward him had already faded, and she'd found herself thinking of him fondly for the first time in two months. Part of her was still mad at him, and another part was furious with herself for mentally letting him off the hook even a little bit; after all, he'd still said horrible things to her. But the longer their separation had continued, the more she'd realized that life was short and that grudges poisoned the well of happiness. Truthfully, she just wanted to be happy again, and something in the very back of her brain was insinuating that she'd never be happy without him in her life.
But that will have to wait for now. I know I'll never be satisfied until I have a plan for my life, so I need to figure myself out first. Maybe I'll be ready for more contact with Ron once things are more settled, but for now, it's just too risky. I mean, what if we just end up in another fight and I spiral all over again? It'll derail everything, and I'm all out of chances…
Despite her anxiety about talking with him, Ron's words were strangely motivating in a way that nothing else had been to date. A plan was taking shape in her mind, and the past forty-eight hours had been a whirlwind of problem-solving, her thoughts scattered across a large whiteboard in her bedroom. She was finally figuring it out, deciding what to do with the rest of her life, how to make her mark. As she skimmed through her old college textbooks and notes, the ideas kept coming faster than she could write them down. It didn't take long for her to figure out that she'd need additional resources, and she knew just where to start looking.
It only took her a quick fifteen-minute train ride and one block walk to arrive at the front door of Blott's Books. She was greeted by the weathered face of the aged proprietor as soon as she stepped inside, and she quickly returned his smile.
"Mr. Blott, it's so nice to see you again!" she called, wrapping the old man in a gentle hug.
His frail arms patted her on the back. "Miss Granger, the pleasure is all mine."
"I'm sorry I haven't been by in a while."
"Nonsense, I see you more than any other regular customer I have, even though I suspect you already have my entire inventory memorized."
"In this case, I hope I don't, actually."
"Oh?" he asked, producing a faint cough as he leaned forward over his worn wooden desk. "And why might that be?"
Hermione could barely spit the words out fast enough. "Well, I've decided to make a change in my life. It's time for me to get back to my first love, environmental science and policy. I want to find a way to help educate people about the environment and climate change and show them how they can do their part to help save the planet."
"Miss Granger, I think that is a very noble goal indeed. I seem to recall you poring over that type of scientific literature quite frequently during your college years."
"I did," she replied, beaming back at the old man. "And I owe a lot of it to you. Having this amazing space to study was always so inspiring to me."
"You're far too kind, and I was only too happy to do my part. For your information, the feeling is mutual. Throughout the many years I've run this shop, there has been nobody as kind and charming as yourself. You've truly helped to keep an old man young. Well, as young as possible, anyway," he said, his eyes twinkling as he held up his slim wrinkled hands.
"Now who's being too kind?"
"In any case, Miss Granger, I would be delighted to assist you in any way possible. Tell me your thoughts and I'll do my best to point you in the right direction."
"Well, to be honest, that's about as far as I've gotten so far. Lots of ideas, but not enough direction if that makes sense."
"Is it your aim to work with companies and businesses or with everyday citizens?"
"Oh, people, definitely. I want to help people see how they can make a difference in their own lives."
Mr. Blott tilted his head and eyed her for several seconds as if he were sizing her up. At first, she wondered if she'd said something wrong, but then a smile slowly played across his face, his expression lighting up. "Naturally. I think you'd be a perfect fit."
"I'm sorry?" she clarified, feeling as though she was missing something.
"Oh, never mind. Just the ramblings of an old man. However, right this way, Miss Granger. Let's chat, shall we? I have a feeling I know just what you're looking for."
April 29, 2013, 7:05pm
"Hermione…hi," I said as I tried not to stare, my whole body suddenly as hot as the sun.
"Hi, Ron," she answered, standing up and stepping toward me, her knit hat in her hand.
"What, uhh, what are you doing here? I mean, it's fine that you're here, and, umm, carry on, I just…well, I-I don't want to be rude, but I'm supposed to be meeting someone."
"I know. You're meeting me. Can we talk?"