Author's Note: Hello to you all! This one is one of my new, multi-chaptered stories in here (I'm really so very thrilled to be back here!) Not much to say, I believe, despite some facts about this story, 'cause it's an AU one:

-As you'll see in this first chapter, when Hermione's on vacation, she touches a plaque on a monument, and during that little contact, she unknowingly wakes a spirit up, a young man named Ronald Bilius Weasley from a heavy, serene slumber up in Heavens... Anyway, as the young man of over 2 centuries ago wakes up and sees the girl near the monument, finds love in his heart, and realises that she's the one for him, his true soulmate, as well that it's his deepest desire to fulfill and incarnate their mutual feelings- another thing he's able to understand... So, this is a story of them, and how they will cope with everything around and how they will try to fulfill their purest of destinies.

-Also, I'd like to note that this is a magical world that Voldemort does not get reborn, nor he has all these Horcruxes and stuff; Voldemort was completely defeated when he tried to kill Harry at the age of one.

Now, I'll just let you all read; enjoy! :)

~The Blue-eyed Spirit~

Prologue

I clearly remember that day even now, even after years passing. Because, even though I face magic almost every day of my short life, I can't remember feeling so much energy and power in my veins. A different kind of magic- the most powerful one, for the matter…

I'm still so grateful for that day… how cannot I be? Books may give knowledge and wisdom, but a simple touch managed to give me something else: a whole new reason to live in the fullest…

The chance to meet him…

Flashback:

Summer 1993; it was, more or less two months before I'd eventually turn 14. My parents, in hopes of spending more time with me without the obstacles of work, thought that we should have a small trip somewhere in the island, and eventually spend time together as a family after another year of my absence. I was exceptionally enthusiastic back then at the idea and all three immediately started brainstorming about this so anticipated vacation. Finally, we agreed on going to Wales; not that far from home and simply ideal for all of us. After reading some volumes about the magical history of the country, I get even more eager to travel there and, if possible, to visit some wizarding villages existent.

As usual for us Grangers, every trip combined relaxation along with educational sightseeing; my parents, excited themselves, had already set up a 'timetable' of sorts with all the things we would see or the places we'd visit. Eventually, after two days of enjoyment, I couldn't hold it anymore and asked my parents if we could go and visit a small, wizarding town not that far from our current position. Fortunately for me, they agreed, quite curious themselves to see how a wizarding community actually functioned.

It was a Thursday's afternoon of mid-July when I finally got there. No need to say that I was really fascinated over the fact that I would have the opportunity to observe a wizarding town, besides Hogsmead, that I would examine the ways wizards and witches behaved around each other without the worries of some Muggle seeing them; to a Muggle-born like me, this kind of things is something totally anew that cannot be unexplored for too long.

However, I daresay that deep down, my soul had guessed, had sensed that it was something else, besides historic facts or knowledge that made me so thrilled… Once again, I was entirely right, though I couldn't wholly comprehend it at the time.

At first, what my eyes met was a long path that was surrounded by many, small shops; a bookshop, an inn, a pharmacy with all the variety of potions for daily uses and all the usual shops for wizards. Of course, the ways of functioning weren't that different from what I've already faced at Hogsmead or the Diagon Alley, but I still liked the picturesque sensation it caused to me freely, as people with colourful robes and hats were walking around and chatting with their slightly thick accents, with wands in hand or standing out from inside pockets or sleeves; sometimes, I really couldn't wait to be one of those people!..

Walking on the street with eyes that tried almost desperately not to lose one single thing, we finally reached the centre of the small so cozy town, where, in the middle of a circular open place, was a big monument, made of sparkly white marble that stood out beautifully and awesomely… For a moment, I thought that I felt a shuddering feeling through my spine and my hairs standing up from the admiration evident inside me.

With unconscious steps, I approached the testimonial without taking my eyes of it, my pace getting quicker with each step. When I was finally standing before it, I realized that an also shiny, bronze plaque was on the front side of it, inscribed calligraphically. Even though at the sight of the thousands letters I got tremendously eager to absorb the information written, my eyes first decided to examine the sculpture on top of the marble base, a wonderful, breathtaking blend of black and white marble, as well as shiny ivory. It was not something really significant, something that would really make someone understand in full what the monument was standing for, but only make some vague guesses pop into mind. That is exactly what I did, as I examined with sharp scrutiny how the black marble wand was lying on top of a big, beautifully inscribed and decorated sword of the whitest marble and ivory- their lying position one to shape a cross and show off both weapons brilliantly. Like half-hanging from the edge of the top of the base, was a bunch of black marble roses, which seemed to stay together tightly by the hold of a golden locket, one that half-rested on the preface of the monument and in its end appeared to have some sort of crest, along with some beautifully shaped letters- probably initials, I guessed, even though I couldn't really figure out which the letters were to make a surer presumption.

After some more, long moments of staring, with breath lost, at these, seemingly odd things to ornate a monument with, I eventually averted my eyes from the beauty of the aptly sculptured items to look at the bronze plaque on the preface of the monument. I took another unconscious step closer before letting my eyes wander from left to right quickly, absorbing the sight almost hungrily, with that permanent thirst of mine when it comes to learning facts and gaining more knowledge.

'In this very land, at 1799, goblins, along with dark wizards tried to throw the town in flames, along with its citizens, and foray all the goods of the land. A few brave men and women managed to stand up and shown their faith to our land by battling for this soil, finally managing to vanquish the darkness and bring the tranquil of the place back where it was bound to rest.

During that fateful night of 2nd March, 1799, a brave, young man gave his life in order to secure his family's safety. This monument is a tribute to Ronald Bilius Weasley, a true example of selflessness, bravery and loyalty to the family and the wizardry.

May you rest in peace eternally, our dear friend.

Ronald Bilius Weasley

1 March 1779- 2 March 1799'

I was slightly surprised, to say in the least, for such a historical reference to the little town- for most probably the first time I could recall, I didn't have a clue about such a fact while visiting this little, seemingly unimportant, town. I instantly got fascinated from the story of the young man- one of the so young age of twenty- who died while trying so heroically to save his family and hometown.

Without really thinking about it, with motions slow and almost intuitional, I let my fingertips touch the metal plaque ever so kindly, exactly where the name of the newly-discovered hero was inscribed.

And at that precise moment, the millisecond required for my skin to make contact with the metal, I felt all sorts of reactions inside me and around me, a thing so strange, yet so comforting and balmy, that made me unconsciously let out the softest of gasps, one of utter, yet gladly acceptable, astonishment.

The auburn metal was at first cool under my touch, like it was supposed to be; almost immediately, though, the hard substance got warmer, and comfortably so, for the matter, so soothingly balmy under my own skin. I felt my whole arm, in a matter of short-lived seconds, warmer too, like the sudden, inexplicable warmth of the metal rushed easily into me, through my skin and straight into my veins and flesh… The thought of it all, along with something else, totally unnamed to me, made my arm tingle a bit as well, somewhat numb and way too relaxed during this odd, yet welcoming, course of warmth-bathing. It was like a little jolt of harmless energy surged through my fingertips, to my arm, and straight to my whole, unprepared body. Then, unavoidably, more reactions occurred to me.

My eyes widened ever so slightly, as I felt an ever so gentle, balmy breeze caressing the skin of my face, every lively pore of it, making my wild curls of hair whisk away from my temples and eyes gracefully. That little aura was so refreshing to me, made me feel actually so very lively, like reborn, really, like it was a breath of God sent to me like a gold-precious blessing that gave to me all the energy of the universe and even more than that; at that tiny moment, I could feel like everything was available to me, like all the world was within reach, like I suddenly deserved to have everything in the world; it was bizarre, maybe even a little mental, but it was actually there, this vast feeling, and my blissfully pounding heart whispered to me not to be afraid of it, whatever it was, but to embrace it and make it one with myself; it was warm, harmless and inspiring, and its novelty and its lingering inside me, almost to point palpable, made me comply with my heart's kind suggestions easily, innocently, as I was unknowingly craving to sense all this newborn, incomprehensible feeling of liberty for as long as it existed.

And the only think I could do besides breathing of an air with a so discreet essence of apples and earth, was staring unconsciously at the inscribed name on the plaque:

Ronald Bilius Weasley…

End of Flashback

That was the very first time I felt it- that sprouting feeling of the most inexplicable, yet most inspirational kind of energy and warmth, tingling all over my body and soothing my soul with tremendous ease. Back then, being so young and unprepared yet, I couldn't realize what was happening, what was the cause of such awesome sentiments of comfort and sensations of tranquility.

I couldn't really know that I had managed, with that meager touch of my fingertips on the metal, to wake that youthful spirit from an everlasting slumber up, to wake him up and let him discover my presence along with things, with emotions he himself hadn't really known when he was gracing with his presence the planet Earth- and that was over two centuries ago…

As he later let me know, he felt as powerful and warm as I had felt during that first contact. He was sleeping deeply, unknowingly almost, and then he felt something stirring from very deep inside him and he remembered opening his eyes and standing near the monument, that monument about him, looking at a strange girl touching the little plaque…

He confessed to me one night that at that moment, he felt smoothing balm embracing his heart and energy flowing in his veins just like magic; he also seemed to understand much more than I did, to decipher to the fullest what that tiny moment meant to the pair of us, what our connection was, how much it meant, simply everything- everything that I was, back then, ignoring naively.

He knew too well when to make his presence known to me, and exactly the way to do it without scaring me. He knew that I was not ready enough just then to accept the entire meaning of his presence in me, he knew that everything would come at the most appropriate time, and that it would be then as easy as breathing for both of us. He knew how to be patient and wait some more for me, yet he also knew how to warm me and inspire me, even though I could hardly comprehend what it was that was causing all this pureness inside me.

It was long after a year that he finally graced me with his existence, but at that moment, I was more than ready not only to accept what he was and what he was carrying along with him, but I was completely eager and sure to embrace it and never let it go…

Flashback:

The stress of the last few weeks was so vast and heavy that I couldn't honestly have more strength in me to suppress it anymore and pretend that everything was alright. Very little was alright at the time being and I couldn't stand it, mostly because I knew that I had to face it every single day for so long, yet I could simply do nothing about it, not one thing to ease all the hardness and the difficulties…

So, when night eventually fell and I was securely hidden in between crimson curtains of my bed, I did that one thing that I always tried to prevent from happening:

I cried.

And it wasn't as simple as that; some tears couldn't really do the trick this time for me. All the stress, the worry, the agony over my one and very best friend came out as choked sobs, hiccups, loud sniffs to the point that I couldn't easily breathe anymore.

All because of that stupid, still apparent prejudice.

No, I'm not really referring to any sort of prejudice and meanness shot to me and my so-known blood status; I couldn't care less now, after all the years of the teasing and the threatening. No, it wasn't me I was worried about, but my Harry, my dearest and only best friend that once again, had to endure all these indescribable things, because of his dark and lonely past, because he's an orphan despite his will, because he's a hero in spite of his desire to be normal, because he's a half-blood, seeking friendship in a Muggle-born and rejecting the invitation of a bunch of spiteful purebloods to become one of the most merciless bullies of the whole school all these years ago… And even though during daylight I always appear strong and try so very hard to be calm and reassuring to him, giving him all the support and kind, friendly words he surely needs, at some points, I just bent down, eventually breaking and letting out all the worries and sadness addressed to Harry and his still tragic state, letting out all the pent up tension I feel in my body and heavy spirits so for long…

So, when solitude was guaranteed, when darkness was embracing me along with strong silencing charms, I'd let everything out… but, oh God, this time it was so hard and I couldn't stop thinking hopelessly and crying like mad…

More sobs to come, more tears, as well as more concern for poor Harry… why always had to be him?

I shed tears and choked out sobs some more, for time unknown, and with eyes stung and puffy, with face warm and wet and with a head too heavy and hurt, I unconsciously feel asleep…

…

I opened my eyes slowly, only to see that I was not in my respectful, four-poster bed I recall of occupying, but in an unknown place outwards, somewhere in the countryside. I could faintly listening to birds' chirping and the swaying of the all-green leafage, and I suddenly forgot all about my worries and the harshness of prejudice and Harry; it was like nothing of those really existed, and if they really did, they were put in a comfortable comma, in a momentary halt that seemed agreeable with my heart and my restive soul. Once again, I could feel this energy and this comfortable balm sprouting inside me like wild flowers, and everything was serene and still and beautiful; the nature was beautiful, the singing of the birds was beautiful, the little dance of the leafs was beautiful, even… even that distinctive and oddly familiar scent of apples and earth embracing me discreetly was beautiful.

All my agonies were far away gone and the nature was inspiring, was stunning, leaving unimportant the fact of how I got there in the first place. And the sunbeams were washing my skin with so much care, that I myself felt beautiful in these wonderful surroundings, I felt really one with them, and I didn't really mind staying here forever.

And then, I felt that little soft breeze encircling me gently and a soft faint whisper along with it caressing my eardrums…

"Hello…"

My heart started beating a tad faster at that, but it honestly was not fear that fuelled that little organ pound at this astonishing speed; it was some sort of… excitement, of sweet disturbance that I never experienced before and I never thought that it was really apparent.

However, I could still feel so very calm and warm, even though the excitement and the energy were flowing madly in my veins; it was extraordinary, impossible even, but the moment it occurred, I couldn't doubt it, because it was there and I could feel it in every pore of my skin and in every little cell of my body like it was the most important thing in the entire universe.

And… And maybe it was, as I could still sense that little, smooth aura around me and I could still hear the echoes of that feathery voice still in my ears…

"Who are you?" I asked the voice ever so softly, my voice barely audible even to me, but somehow I knew that the voice heard me- he could hear me and sense me completely, but I never got afraid of this totally new and abrupt thing- well, maybe because it somehow seemed neither new nor abrupt.

"We've met before… in some way…" I heard that kind, male voice again in my ears, and suddenly I looked around me, thinking for the very first time that I may be able to take a glimpse of the voice's owner, if possible. But my careful eyes gave me the signal that no other human was there around me, it was only me in the nature and the voice seemed to be in the very air that I breathed.

"When?" I asked him after some short moments, letting unhurriedly his words sink in my mind like some very precious pieces of treasure; he seemed to breathe a so gentle, innocent laugh before whispering more words, spilling them in the air around me.

"Over a year ago… But certainly our sort of acquaintance wasn't one of the usual ones, Hermione Granger…"

The voice was still feathery and tightly laced with some kind of ancient chivalry that I had never experienced before. For some moments all I could decipher was the smoothness of that laughter and the silkiness of the voice while spelling more and more words, even my own name like a pray. My heart got eagerly nested in the more warmth and serenity springing around it and my mind, after eventually managing to get away from this lovely distraction, tried desperately to scan through my memory, trying to recall any sort of acquaintances I had during the last or so year.

Nothing came, and that got me perplexed and slightly curious.

"I…I cannot remember…" I started but I trailed off, due to immense curiosity and fear of shooing away that voice, if he realized that I couldn't bring to mind something so worthy as our very first meeting.

The tone in his voice told me not to worry about the possibility of my latter thought. "Just follow me."

And so did I.

At first, I was anxious that I couldn't really follow him, that the breezes and their journeys would trick me and led me away from this airy presence; somehow, he makes it possible for me, talking clearer in the almost still of the nature, making somehow Earth itself helping him during that magical journey. I was led through big, oak trees rose bushes and other, old trees covered with jasmines to somewhere unknown, yet the fact never got me scared- I would only be scared if I lost that mysterious presence.

When he wasn't talking to me, showing me where to follow him, I'd clearly see some branch of a tree swaying with the breezes and showing me discreetly a small path between the flowers and the rocks; then, some squirrel or little frog would catch my attention and head me towards where the voice wanted me to; it was strange, absurd really, yet utterly unique and refreshing, like a new self of mine was suddenly being born through that process to follow that gentle, serene voice that was still ringing in my ears like bells.

At long last, I finally reached a little clearing in that sort of garden I was in; clear patches of earth were blessed with wildflowers that barely reached the calves and with the greenest of grass. Some more of oak trees were a little behind, throwing comforting shades down to the earth and some birds were on their branches, signing their freedom and happiness so beautifully that I wanted to just close my eyes, sink in and be one with the nature, never escaping from it again. Along with their songs, I was able to hear the little flowing sounds water made, as it was dancing freely in the naturally abnormal cavity of the river.

It was heavenly here, especially at that precise moment, and I said so out loud, in hopes of the voice listening to me; he did.

"I'm glad you like it," he said to me and I smiled up to the skies, not really knowing, or caring, for the reason why; it was so peaceful and warm here that all my worries, even the most ridiculous ones, escaped from my body and vanished into the air… like he took them away from me…

I shouldn't be surprised if it was like this.

"Please, open your eyes," he asked me ever so softly after some timeless moments, and I couldn't go against him even if I wanted to, which was not the case. I opened the eyelids ever so slowly, never feeling the rush over me, and I witnessed once again the blue of the sky blending with the other, vivid colours of the nature: the greens and the yellows, the pinks and the browns of the earth that were so pretty and soothing and simply everything! And the blacks near my bare feet—

The blacks? There were no blacks before…

I looked down with slightly narrowed eyes, my curio levels raised in the course of milliseconds. I observed those tints of black on the grass and some seconds passed before I realized that these were some spread, black roses on the grass of the riverbank,, still not fully opened, during their most beautiful and fresh phase…

Black roses… a so very rare flower for eyes to see… I myself had not witnessed it before now but once—

…Then…

During… During that Thursday of mid-July… I've saw, for the very first time, a bunch of everlastingly fresh, black roses…

Over a year ago…

Oh, in the name of Circe's beloved cloaks!

"Is… Is it… y-you?" I whispered after some prolonged moments of heavy, uneven breathing, hyperactivity of my brain and wild heart-beating; my voice was all wondering and shaky, and my mind, my entire soul was hopefully wondering… wondering if such a thing was even plausible…

A minute passed and flowed along with the water in the river nearby, before I heard so clearly that setting-free answer of his…

"Yes."

And how couldn't it be him? Suddenly, it all made sense; the energy and the warmth I felt every time since that contact of my fingertips on the plaque… the name inscribed on the plaque…

Ronald Bilius Weasley.

Everything made sense now, every little piece of my latest reality, the balm, the scent, the tranquility, the hopes and the anticipation of my heart, the lack of fear…

Every little aspect made sense, so wondrously… yet, it was so very simple…

It was as easy as breathing and as normal as the flowing of the blood inside my veins… Simple, normal and appropriately vital.

Every little thing was put to its rightful place… and I feel not odd, or fearful or suspicious… I feel only warmed and calm and rested and… loved.

Yes; exceptionally and fairly loved.

It's everything so beautiful and breathtaking, even more so now.

"Ronald…" I sighed unconsciously, and the feel of his name on my lips and tongue did not feel strange, but blissfully familiar and easy, like it was meant to be pronounced by me since forever. It was beautiful, and even more so when I felt his warmth around me enhancing and embracing me more tightly and lovingly.

Out of the blue, without being really able to identify the reason behind, I felt that urge to step forward, towards the river, so my eyes could see straight-forward the semi-transparent, thin skin of the flowing water mass. At first, the slight reflection of my face was clearly visible to my eyes, but then, at that little course of tiny seconds, I caught a glimpse of a pair of gleaming, crystal blue eyes above my shoulder's reflection, gazing straight into my eyes with a look of tenderness and gentleness that was unknown to me till then. I was completely and utterly mesmerized by the look and the shine of those eyes, and the balm around my heart enhanced desirably, as I realized at that right moment that I would live, from now on, in hopes of seeing again this very pair of eyes that, as quickly as it appeared, disappeared with the flowing of the water, but never along with it the sweet essence of his presence still around me.

He was still there.

That wonderful, kind presence.

The blue-eyed spirit.

"I'll forever be here for you, Hermione; never forget that."

And with a lulling sensation rushing and tingling all over my body, I promised inwardly to never forget that.

End of Flashback.

After that eventful night, I remember never getting over-stressful with everything; the moment I'd feel my heart pounding fast with anxiety over something, that special kind of warmth would encircle me with ease, like it was a pair of familiar, loving arms around my body, reminding me their presence and the existence of calm in the world.

The blue-eyed spirit never forgot me, like he had promised during that night so many years ago.

And indeed, they were so many, beautiful years. Almost three years of his love encircling me selflessly; because, don't think that I didn't figure it out from the very first moment he spoke to me with the entire peacefulness of the heaven;

He loves me with all he has, and I shamelessly confess that I love him too; my other half, my true soulmate, the only one able to make me justly and blissfully complete.

I sigh contently and I eventually let the volume in my lap be closed and laid on the nightstand next to me; I should know that it would be hopeless, trying to do some light reading when all of my mind was whole-heartedly focused on him. I smile as I switch off the lamp and I lie down on my own bed, happily and slight childishly cuddling closer to my pillow and blankets.

This, this moment is always the best of my day…

That moment when I feel entirely his presence around me, as his warmth and gentleness will hug me lovingly, exactly like his warm body would spoon me if it was here, behind me, so apparent and ready to lull me into pleasant and serene slumber…

"Goodnight, my beauty…" I hear his whisper, so warm and kind and faint, caressing my ear. I smile wider and snuggle more in his embrace.

"Goodnight, Ron."

-Well, that's the very first chapter of the story. I wanted at first to show a bit of Hermione's reality, how she 'met' Ron for the very first time, how she 'woke him up' before getting to the main body of this story... So, how did you like it? I'd really, REALLY like to know your worthy opinion by seeing your equally worthy REVIEWS! I'd be just grateful...

-More to come soon enough, hopefully... Sometimes summer heat just plays with my nerves and patience... Anyway, till the next time... :)