A/N: Thanks for reading so far - time for things to get a little better, at least :)

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Part 1: Imposter - Chapter 3

What was that all about?

Hermione shook her head as she followed Ron down the staircase, unsure what had come over her back in the living room. Before arriving at Grimmauld Place, she was feeling pure anxiety at the thought of seeing him again. As soon as she laid eyes on him, though, her nerves calmed, and all she wanted was the comfort of his touch. All she wanted was the Ron she had fallen in love with.

In her darkest moments in Australia, she'd thought of him. Even though she had no idea what he wanted and whether a real relationship would be possible in the near future, the vision of his cool blue eyes in her mind never failed to soothe her. Her hope for a future with him was one of the only things that allowed her to push forward when things got hard or when she was doubting herself and her decisions. He would accept her as she was, she was sure of it.

And so, while he looked happy to see her at first, it didn't take long for his body language to stiffen, making her feel as though she'd tried to draw solace from him when he wasn't prepared to offer it. He'd hugged her close and held her like he used to before the battle, like he had in Shell Cottage when she'd woken up screaming from nightmare after nightmare. There was no way she'd imagined it. However, as soon as it started, the sensation had faded, and they'd quickly returned to the clumsy exchanges that mirrored the week before her departure. In a way, it hurt even worse than leaving him in the first place. Back then, at least she understood.

When the two of them arrived in the kitchen, Harry and Ginny were already seated next to each other at the kitchen table, levitating over cartons of takeaway along with plates and forks. Ron took a seat across from his best friend, leaving Hermione the chair next to him and opposite Ginny.

"Fish and chips, Chinese beef and broccoli and egg rolls, sausage and pepper pizza, pies from Mrs Weasley, and salad from that Italian place a few blocks from here," Harry said, proudly looking over the spread. "It's a bit of a smorgasbord, but hopefully it'll do."

"Looks good, mate," Ron offered with a grin, helping himself to an eggroll.

Ginny, meanwhile, reached for a chunk of fish and a pile of chips. "Mmm, I love this place."

"I think I've found the best in the neighborhood, but let me know what you all think," Harry replied.

While everyone started eating, Hermione remained still. She'd only had a little of the Indian food her parents had ordered a couple of hours ago to make sure she'd have room, but her interaction with Ron had deprived her of an appetite. Eventually, her friends took notice.

"Everything okay, Hermione?" Harry asked. "I'm sorry if I didn't get anything you like, I can always–"

"No," she interrupted him. "No, it looks good."

She grabbed a slice of pizza and took a bite, setting it down on her plate as she slowly chewed. Her taste buds told her it was good pizza, but her underlying uneasiness made it hard for her to appreciate. "I'm sorry, I must just be a little bit tired."

"Oh, I didn't even think of that. I'm sorry, Hermione, it probably feels like the middle of the night to you right now. We can do this another time if you like."

"No, it's fine," she insisted. "It actually feels like it's early in the morning, but I wanted to try to push through until a normal bedtime to get myself back on track."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Just…please don't be offended if I nod off a bit."

"Of course," Ginny said. "Oh, I meant to ask you, did you get your Hogwarts letter yet?"

"Erm, yes, I did," Hermione responded. "It was waiting for me when I got home this afternoon. I was glad to see Professor Slughorn would be returning."

"Yeah, although it probably means more Slug Club parties."

Next to her, Ron winced at the mention, likely reliving the same bad memories from their sixth year. To think, she'd actually agreed to go on a date with Cormac McLaggen…

"Perhaps."

Ginny shoved a bite of pizza in her mouth and wiped her lips with a napkin. "I wonder who will take over for McGonagall. Defense Against the Dark Arts, too. I know who's not taking over, at least, much to my disappointment."

Elbowing Harry in the ribs, she waggled her eyebrows in his direction.

Hermione caught on, staring back and forth between the two of them. "She offered it to you?"

A blush crept across Harry's cheeks as he nodded. "Professor McGonagall said she knew I'd turn her down in favor of the Aurors, but she had to try. Something about people remembering what I did with the D.A. a few years ago. I don't know, it was actually quite embarrassing."

"Nonsense, Harry," Hermione volunteered. "I think you'd be quite good at it."

"Thanks, Hermione. Who knows, maybe someday."

"For now, though, Auror training starts in a few months," Ginny explained, "so at least we have the summer together before we have to do long-distance."

Their hands clasped together on top of the crisp cream tablecloth, Harry's thumb running over the back of Ginny's knuckles. A pang of jealousy shot through Hermione. As she peeked to her right, Ron's hands were fully occupied with his food. Just the thought of his fingers running across her knuckles sent a small shiver down her spine. The pleasant sensation was quickly replaced with a leaden weight in the pit of her stomach, though, as she wondered whether she and Ron would ever have what Harry and Ginny had.

The conversation continued to drift through several topics, everything from Ginny's anxiety about seventh year to Harry's adjustment to life in Grimmauld Place to Mrs Weasley's frequent unannounced arrivals whenever Ginny had been gone from the Burrow for too long. Hermione was doing her best to stay engaged, but her eyelids were feeling heavier and heavier over time. For his part, Ron was conspicuously quiet, but Hermione caught him eyeing her once or twice, his head snapping down toward his plate of food any time she glanced his way. She groaned to herself, realizing that his communication skills hadn't improved in her absence.

"Anyway," Harry said, leaning back in his chair after finishing his small bowl of salad, "Hermione, we've been going on and on about our lives. Tell us about yours; how did it go in Australia?"

"Yes, Hermione," Ginny echoed. "It sounds like things went pretty smoothly?"

The three people at the table were her best friends in the world, and they deserved to know, but Hermione wasn't sure what to say. How was someone supposed to explain their biggest embarrassment, their hardest moment, their most paralyzing decision-making even to the people they care about the most? Of course they would all be supportive, but just as Hermione wasn't interested in her family's sympathy, she wasn't sure she could take much more of Harry's or Ginny's either.

And Ron didn't seem too likely to provide sympathy, even if he was the one person from whom she would appreciate it.

"Well," Hermione started, already cognizant of the stinging sensation behind her eyes, "finding them actually didn't prove that difficult, to be honest. I tried asking around as if I was looking for a dentist myself. I contacted the Australian Ministry too, although they were no help. Once I managed to nick a phone book from the hotel, however, I simply called every office in the area. Eventually, I found them about two and a half hours south of Sydney. They'd joined a little practice there by the ocean."

"Wow, talk about a needle in a haystack," Harry marveled.

"There was definitely some luck involved. I couldn't even be sure I was on the right side of the country at first. When I finally arrived in Shoalhaven and stepped into their office…it was as though the wind had been knocked out of me. I thought about making up a toothache to be seen, but I–I couldn't even stay in the waiting room. I waited for them to leave, followed them home, and set their memories straight before they'd even registered that I was there."

"That's great!" Ginny exclaimed, reaching across the table and clasping Hermione's hand. "They must have been thrilled!"

"Well…" Willing herself not to cry, she stiffened her upper lip before continuing. "I wish it was that easy."

Harry grinned, completely missing her apprehension. "I'm sure it was strange at first, but you were all back together again!"

"Yes, but…I'd displaced their lives without so much as notifying them."

"Right," Ginny replied slowly. "But you did that in order to save them."

"I understand. And I tried to help them understand, but even when they accepted the basic premise that I needed to protect them, there was still plenty of damage done. I mean…I'd erased myself from their consciousness. I'd torn them away from their home. I'd ruined their business, their careers–"

Her breathing was getting heavier as she spoke, and the constriction in her throat was only worsening. Why was it so difficult for them to comprehend all the ramifications of her actions? They were plain as day to her. Harry having trouble understanding made some sense to her, at least; he'd do anything to have his family back in any condition. But still, she'd have thought he would give her the benefit of the doubt knowing how hard the past year had been for her.

As she glanced around the table, all of the telltale signs of compassion and sensitivity registered on Harry and Ginny's faces. The sad smiles, the understanding nods, the furrowed brows…it was enough to make Hermione want to run back to the fireplace and Floo home without another word.

"Anyway, we tried to talk for days. Eventually, it felt like we were just going in circles, getting no closer to understanding each other. They were calm on the outside, but I could tell they were furious with me. They wouldn't say it, but they were…just…"

Tears started to leak from her eyes, and her cheeks burned with the shame she felt every time she retold the story. Despite being surrounded by friends, she'd never felt so lonely.

Just as she was preparing to excuse herself from the table, a warm hand closed around hers under the table. Her gaze snapped toward the source, and she locked eyes with Ron, a strong, caring expression on his face. He slowly laced their fingers together, gripping her tightly and giving her the strength she had lost. No words were necessary; she had all the support she needed.

"I'm sorry to hear that it was so hard, Hermione," Harry finally conveyed. "And I'm sorry none of us were there with you. We should've gone, maybe it would've helped."

Hermione shook her head, drying her eyes with the back of her free hand. "I appreciate you saying that, but no, I don't think it would've made much difference."

"Perhaps not, but…I don't know, sometimes a little moral support goes a long way."

"I know. But this is my mess. I got myself into it, and now it's time for me to get myself out of it. Over the last week and a half, we've started to repair our relationship. Lots of talks, conversations late into the night. I still don't get the impression they're being entirely forthcoming with me, but I suppose I can't blame them. It's going to take a lot of time and patience, but it's worth it."

"I'll help," came a voice to her right.

Ron was looking at her, his thumb rolling over the skin of the back of her hand. "If, you know, if I can."

All at once, her heart was flooded with affection, and she felt as though she was floating off of her seat. The Ron she needed had arrived, and as she stared back at him, her eyes filled with new, happier tears as she nodded. "I know you will."

Their gazes remained locked on each other, and across the table, Ginny pulled Harry out of his seat. "Remember how you told me about the new cake shop that opened up down the street? Why don't we go grab some for dessert?"

"I think we have enough food, don't you?"

"No, I think we're running out. Come on, let's go. On the way, we can have a chat about tact…"

The two of them headed up the stairs, and a moment later the front door slammed behind them. Silence enveloped the kitchen, but Ron kept his grip on Hermione's hand as he turned back toward his food.

"Sorry," he said. "They come on strong sometimes."

"They're just concerned," Hermione responded with a shrug. "I know they mean well."

"Harry's been doing the same thing with me every time I see him. He's so cautious, like he's afraid he might offend me or something. He's being weirdly nice."

"I'm sure he simply wants things to be back to normal. Whatever…whatever normal is going to be. Harry went through so much to free everyone from the threat of Voldemort. He wants us to be happy now that he's gone."

"Yeah, well." Ron smirked. "Not that it was his fault, but it wasn't exactly seamless."

His eyes clouded over and the emotion left his face. The thoughts swimming through his head were obvious, almost as though Hermione could see Fred's ghost in front of his eyes. She gave his hand a squeeze, reciprocating the support he'd shown her.

"How have you been doing?" she finally posed, dropping the slice of pizza she'd been slowly working on and facing him.

One corner of his lips curled up a bit, offering her a hint of the lopsided smile she loved so much. "Okay, I guess. Every day's different."

"I'm sure. And that's normal, of course."

"Maybe. I don't think about him as much, but then I feel guilty for not thinking about him and everything gets worse again. Kind of a vicious cycle."

Hermione removed her hand from his, placing it on his arm and giving a gentle rub. "I'm sorry, Ron. That must be so difficult."

"I don't get why it's so much harder for me. Probably because I was standing right there when…"

"You can't do that," she insisted with a shake of her head. "You're getting dangerously close to blaming yourself, Ron, and that's not fair to you."

"Right, I know." He sighed. "It's just strange how everyone else seems to be moving on and I feel…stuck."

Despite the poignancy of the topic, part of Hermione was thrilled that he was finally opening up. These were the conversations she'd hoped he could have shared a month ago. It was understandable that he wasn't prepared to talk to anyone, herself included, but the longer he went suffering in silence, the more she worried about him. At least he was communicating about his pain and letting her in. The thought gave her more hope for their future than anything in recent memory.

"Everyone processes grief differently, though. It's not reasonable to compare yourself to anybody else."

"Yeah, I guess."

Scooting her chair closer to his, she picked up his hand again. "And while I know you have people in your life you can lean on to help you, sometimes you just need to be alone, too. I understand that, and I'm sure your family does too."

Ron twisted his hand to allow Hermione's to fit, holding her tightly as she stroked his finger. It felt so natural, like they'd been doing it for years. "I hope you're right. Now that Dad's back at work, Mum's alone a lot of the time. I try to sit with her sometimes, but I don't know if it's helping. She never says anything, and she'd never let us see it, but I can tell she's really struggling."

His eyes welled up with tears, and Hermione dropped her head on his shoulder, grasping his bicep with her other hand. It amazed her how easy it was to fall back into rhythm with him, the casual touches and comforting words returning immediately.

"I'm sure she is," she said. "She always tries to be so strong for all of you, but it has to be hard."

"She always looks busy, but I'm not sure she's really dealing with anything. I've heard her at night. Her bedroom is right below mine, and sometimes she forgets to cast Muffliato. I doubt if a day's gone by that she hasn't cried herself to sleep."

"I can't even imagine…"

For several moments, they sat together, Hermione's finger tracing figure eight patterns up and down Ron's arm to help him relax. Eventually, his eyes dried, and he sniffed and resumed eating his second slice of pizza.

She loosened her grip on him but continued holding his hand, not intending to let go any time soon. "Thank you for talking about it with me."

"Thanks for listening. I wish I'd…I mean, before you left…" He turned away. "Well, anyway, thanks for listening now."

As he reached for another bite of pizza, he stopped himself, head swiveling back toward her. "I meant it, you know. If there's anything I can do for you, just ask, yeah?"

"Thanks. I wish it was that easy."

"How's it going so far?"

Thinking for a moment, she decided there was no point in holding back. It was Ron. There was nobody she trusted more in the world. If anyone could help her raise her spirits, it was him. "Honestly? Not very well. The trust seems completely broken, and I'm left wondering if it'll ever get back to what it used to be."

"It will," he said with an encouraging nod. "I'm sure it will."

"I wish I shared your confidence."

"I think they'll realize you did the only thing you could in the long run. You were down to your last option. There really wasn't a choice."

Her eyes became wet again, and her nose started to run, prompting a sniffle. "I know. And I don't regret it. I only wish it hadn't had to be so drastic."

"I get it. At the end of the day, though, they're still your parents. They love you no matter what."

Images of her mother and father flashed through her consciousness. Joyful times from her childhood, melancholy times when she had to leave them to go to Hogwarts, and more recently, uncertain times as they tried to put their lives back together. No matter how much she tried to focus on the happier memories, their disappointed faces continually broke through, reminding her of her suspect decisions over and over again. She knew they loved her, but sometimes she wondered if that would be enough. It was all too much, and tears burst out of her eyes like a dam had broken.

Ron slid closer, wrapping his arms around her shoulder and pulling her head down to his chest. His fingers flowed through her hair as she cried into his t-shirt, immediately wetting the front of it.

"I know they do," she whispered through her sobs. "I know they do."

She clung to him, wordlessly begging him to take away her pain. The juxtaposition of her mental anguish with the comfort she felt in his arms was dizzying. Her arms clutched his back as he pulled her closer, dropping a gentle kiss on the top of her head. A shushing sound in her ear started to calm her, but it took several moments for her cries to quiet and for her to lean away from him.

A sudden shot of uncertainty passed through her as she wondered in retrospect whether the contact had made him uncomfortable. Their relationship had been so tenuous recently, and it made her question whether she was allowed to enjoy his hug as much as she did.

Ultimately, though, she decided she didn't care. The world had been challenging and demoralizing enough lately. Why would anyone deny themselves happiness and pleasure where they could find it when so much had gone wrong?

"Do you think…?" Ron started, fidgeting with his fork as he spoke. "Do you think that maybe sometime we could get together and…you know, talk? Just the two of us?"

Hermione allowed her cautious optimism to peek through, smiling back at him as she nodded. Maybe they would finally be able to start clearing the air and getting back to the way they were. And then, after that…who knew what might be possible?

"I'd really like that, yes."

His facial muscles relaxed and the tension melted from his shoulders. "Okay good. I just think…yeah, I think it would be good. I know you're probably busy helping your family set everything back in order, so whenever you like is fine with me."

"Okay. But soon, I promise."

"Yeah, soon would be good."

The deep blue of his eyes was mesmerizing, and she couldn't look away. Not that she wanted to; she could stare into those beautiful eyes for hours. Combined with the crooked grin and the fringe of auburn hair hanging low over his forehead, he was practically irresistible.

"I'm really glad you came tonight. I've missed you," she said, picking up his hand once more.

He brought it to his lips, placing a kiss on her knuckles. "Missed you too."

The front door slammed behind them, forcing them to slide apart, their expressions returning to neutral.

"Got the cake!" Harry yelled, bounding down the stairs. "There's a Victoria sponge, a lemon drizzle kind, and some kind of chocolate on chocolate on chocolate. I forget how many chocolates, but it looked good."

Ginny eyed the two of them carefully as she followed him into the kitchen. "Everything okay?"

"Course it is," Ron growled, returning to his dinner.

"Alright, no need to bite my head off."

It was shocking how quickly Ron rebuilt his stony facade as soon as his sister showed up again. A very small part of Hermione took satisfaction in knowing that she was the only one capable of bringing him out of his shell, but he needed to get along with his family, especially given the recent circumstances. The Weasleys had experienced enough hardship without infighting. Perhaps it would just have to get easier with time, but she made a mental note to talk about it with him when they had the chance.

"Who wants what?" Harry asked, cutting through the tension.

"Let's just put them all out and people can pick at whatever," Ginny suggested.

The two of them sat back down, bringing the dessert with them. Forks were distributed, and everyone speared a small portion.

"Mmm, this is delicious," Harry said. "Ron, maybe we'll have to get some after Auror training once it starts up."

Ron's face dropped as his chin fell to his chest. "Yeah, maybe."

"I'm sure we'll have some early mornings and late nights, especially when we have classroom and field work on the same day. I'm sure I won't be in the mood to cook."

"You're probably right."

"Maybe even on weekends too when we have to study for exams and–"

"Oi, mate. It's fine. We'll get cake. Can we not talk about the bloody Aurors all the time?"

Nobody spoke, each unsure what to say. Ron had seemed excited about joining the Aurors when he was still a student at Hogwarts, but it was clear that his enthusiasm was waning. Although, his enthusiasm for many things seemed diminished since the battle, so Hermione hoped that it was just a temporary side effect of his grief. Truthfully, she thought he'd make a great Auror, even if the thought of him running around dangerous settings and chasing evil wizards again made her nervous.

"Sorry," Harry finally offered quietly. "I just thought it might be nice after a long day."

Ron sighed, looking back up at his best friend. "Yeah, I know, you're right. Sorry, mate. Just…maybe not quite ready to think about more school just yet."

"Yeah, no problem."

"Well, I'm personally looking forward to being back at school," Ginny said. "Especially now that I'll have such a good friend in the dorms with me."

She grinned at Hermione and took a big bite of chocolate cake.

"That will be nice," Hermione agreed. "It wasn't always the case for me and my year either."

"I remember. You had to share that room with some big personalities."

As soon as the conversation switched to Hermione's dormmates, Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat, surely reminded that he was partially to blame for her discomfort.

She immediately tried to change the subject. "And NEWTs will be quite difficult, I'm sure. I remember how tired the seventh years always looked by the end of the semester."

"I'm sure they'll be difficult for some of us," Ginny added with a wink.

For a few more minutes, they talked about life at Hogwarts, reminiscing about the old days and speculating about their experience for next year. Strangely, it was a relief for Hermione to talk about school. Perhaps it shouldn't have been surprising; it was always the place where she felt safest and happiest, even when terrifying things were happening all around her. None of the difficult and confusing aspects of her current life were going to be easy to fix, but she took some solace in the fact that school would soon be her haven of familiarity once again.

Harry cleared the plates once the cakes were gone, and they all trundled back up to the fireplace to head home. Ginny was begging Harry to let her stay the night, prompting Ron to take the stairs three at a time to try to get out of earshot. As the two of them continued to argue in the foyer, Ron and Hermione each grabbed a handful of Floo powder.

"So…talk soon?" he asked, his eyebrows raised hopefully.

"Yes. Soon. I'll send you a Patronus in the next day or so once we figure out…everything."

Ron nodded, stepping forward and gently enveloping her in another warm hug. "Alright. And remember, if there's any way I can help…"

"I know. Thank you."

Why did he have to leave? Seeing him finally open up had been the highlight of the last several weeks, and she couldn't wait to continue their conversation. Fleeting thoughts of throwing caution to the wind and following him to the Burrow crossed her mind, but she didn't want to risk their progress by coming on too strong. Instead, she let him go, stepping back as his hands slid down her arms.

There was time. They finally had time. No need to rush.

Ducking under the mantle, he straightened up, his head hidden by part of the chimney. "The Burrow!" he yelled, disappearing into the flames.

The sound of wet kisses echoed from the foyer, and after calling a goodbye to Harry and Ginny that they may or may not have heard, she entered the fireplace herself. "Eight Heathgate!"