Ron woke with a headache. A slash of sunlight fell across his face, though he didn't know the source of the brightness. Opening his eyes, he realized he was in an unfamiliar place. The drawn curtains of a window hung above him and he lay on a strange couch. Fully alert now, he hopped to his feet, wand in hand.
"Hermione's place," Harry grumbled from a spot on the floor. "We're at Hermione's place."
Ron's shoulders relaxed for a second, then instantly tensed up again. I'm at Hermione's place. The implication of what that meant was too complex to fathom. Three days ago, he didn't know there was a Hermione. Now he was crashing on her couch.
Merlin, he thought, I didn't know there was a Hermione.
It was routine for aurors to get looked at before a mission, but it usually consisted of just a physical check. This mission he and Harry had been working toward was special. He didn't know the particulars yet, only Harry had been fully briefed, but it had to do with a prophecy. Ron's only previous experience with the prophecy business had been that awful night in the department of mysteries, so he knew it was serious. The prep work had included a full body and mental check. Which was when he discovered there was something wrong with him.
When he had been assigned to the recovery room for magical removal, he had gone over the various possibilities of what the attendants might find. He thought an ex death eater may have been responsible. He'd had some close run ins with Shraxen and Willigsbee about a year ago, and had spent his fair share of time at St. Mungo's. There was even one time the healers didn't think he would pull through. He'd give anything never to see his mother in that state of despair again.
But none of the spells or injuries or death eaters had prepared him for what the attendants discovered. No evil mastermind had cursed him, Hermione had. Hermione. The girl who had been his best friend, and then his… something else. He had fought beside her and very nearly died beside her. Almost died for her. And she had cursed him. Why?
For the others, it was like a switch was snapped and they just suddenly remembered that they knew Hermione Granger. For him, it was different. Because he was the one she had turned her wand on. So he remembered her actually doing it, remembered her walking up to him, speaking to him, then pointing her wand at him. He could even remember the swirl of blue light coming at him. He had been curious but not suspicious. It was Hermione after all, what would she do to harm him? And then, he remembered nothing. Hermione was, just, gone.
Remembering it all again that day at the Ministry was a nightmare Ron had to live in daylight. He felt confused, like he was drugged and couldn't remember his own name. He felt such sadness, like the dementors all over again. He was angrier than he'd ever been, the rage in him threatening to boil over on whoever came near him first. It was like he was a caged animal let loose for the first time, clawing at everything around it.
But was made him angrier than anything else, were the other feelings bubbling at the surface. Elation. Joy. Gratitude. Like he had found a missing puzzle piece he'd been searching for his entire life. Like some great prize had finally been returned to him. Hermione Granger existed and he was glad for it. He wanted to thank the universe for it. He was in lo…
No. He wouldn't say that. Not even think it. Any happiness he had felt at the removal of the memory curse would be pushed away. Because she had betrayed him. And he would never again show her what it had cost him, how it had affected him. Now, for all he cared, she could go to hell.
"Thinking heavy thoughts?" Harry asked, sitting up from his makeshift bed on the floor and securing his glasses on his nose.
"I'm fine. What's the plan?"
Last night after Hermione had shut herself up in the bathroom, Harry had been able to sneak far enough into the room to hit her with a calming spell. She quickly fell into a deep sleep and Harry had carried her to bed. They'd decided to stay the night, as their business wasn't finished. Now, it was well into morning and Ron was anxious to finish up and leave.
The thought made him stop, paralyzed with fear for a moment. If they left now, would he ever see her again? Ron shook his head of the thought. That wasn't a concern now. He was only thinking that way because of where he was, in her living room, surrounded by her things. He glanced around the room, the mounds of books proof enough to tell him it was Hermione's home even if he didn't know anything else about the place.
"Good morning."
Ron looked across the room to see Hermione, standing cautiously against the wall of the living room entry way. She wore a light blue nightgown with a robe over it. Her hair was shorter than years before but no less wild. He wanted to touch it.
Instead, he glared at her.
"Hey," Harry said, standing up. "Did you sleep okay?"
Hermione nodded. "Did you stun me?"
"No," Harry said. "Calming spell. You seemed pretty upset."
"Right," Hermione said. She looked like she didn't know whether she should thank Harry or berate him for using the spell. Ron smirked at the irony.
"Should we get some breakfast?" Hermione asked finally.
"Sure," Harry said. "Do you have any toast?"
"I thought we might go in town. There's a little pub. It's not much but maybe it would be good for us to talk there."
In public, Ron thought to himself, silently ending her sentence. She was obviously afraid he was going to lash out again. Well she could hold her breath. He didn't plan to speak to her anymore than was necessary for the duration of the day.
Hermione went off to change and Ron folded up the few blankets he and Harry had used to sleep on. It's not like he had a change of clothes, he hadn't known he'd be having a sleepover. He watched Harry closely, trying to figure out what his friend's next move would be. After the blazing shock of remembering Hermione, he and Harry had initiated a search squad to track her down. It had taken them surprisingly little time, Hermione hadn't hidden herself well, at least not well enough to hide from two people who knew her they way he and Harry did. Or at least used to. But they had pushed aside all other assignments, and Ron knew Robards would be expecting this thing to get wrapped up quickly so they could all move on. Bloody likely.
"We'll tell her the extent of it at breakfast," Harry said, as if reading Ron's thoughts. "She can't cause a scene in a pub, and she doesn't have a wand now, so no canaries."
Ron glowered at Harry's attempt at a joke. She may not have a wand, but she was certainly capable of inflicting pain. And she wasn't going to like what Harry had to tell her.
Hermione emerged then dressed for the day in sensible jeans, boots and a jacket. She held out two knit scarves. Harry took one and she held the other in Ron's general direction.
"It can get cold out there," she said quietly.
"I'll survive."
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The pub was nearly deserted. There was a young guy manning the bar and one middle aged woman walking about checking up on things; she seemed to be the owner. An old man sat by himself in the back, sipping from a coffee mug.
Harry was drinking his own coffee carefully, as if any sudden move might break the precipice he, Ron and Hermione were standing on. He glanced at Ron sitting next to him in the booth. Ron was on a second glass of whiskey, after quickly downing the first in one gulp. Harry looked at his watch, which read nine thirty am. This wasn't a good start.
"After the war, I felt so overwhelmed with everything. I didn't know if I would be going back to school, or if there would even be a school to go back to. I just wanted to start over, where no one knew me as Hermione Granger, 'War Hero.'"
Hermione had been filling them in on why she left. It didn't sound like a convincing story, though Hermione was doing her best to put energy and smiles into the tale. She told them about finding the town in Cornwall, purchasing the cottage, getting a job at the library. It all sounded nice enough, except for one fact: Hermione would have never deserted them.
"What about your parents?" Harry asked. "Don't you see them anymore?"
"Um, no. They…I never reversed their memories. They're still in Australia. I figured, they have a nice life there, why mess it up?"
Ron looked up then, the first sign he'd given all morning that he was listening. He watched Hermione with a curious expression… maybe sympathy? Harry wanted to ask more questions, but was interrupted by the middle aged woman, standing at their table.
"Can I get you and your friends anything else, Hermione?"
"No, thanks Gladys. I think we're fine."
"It's so nice to see you in here with guests," Gladys said, smiling now at Harry and Ron. "She's always in here alone, keeps to herself. Though I know Johnny over there wouldn't mind keeping her company." Gladys nodded toward the barman and Harry turned to look, though Ron kept his head resolutely forward, staring into his whiskey glass.
"Okay, thanks Gladys," Hermione said quickly, clearly embarrassed.
"It's nothing to be ashamed of," Gladys said. "You know he's sweet on you, and you need to be out with young people. It's not natural, a pretty girl like you being all alone…"
"You know what Gladys," Harry interrupted, "I would love some more coffee. It's delicious."
"Well, great. I'll go get that for you, honey."
Gladys walked off with a purpose and Hermione shot Harry a grateful smile. He shrugged back in response.
"So, how did you do it? The spell I mean. We couldn't figure it out."
"Oh, um, it was a basic memory charm combined with obliviate and…"
"Yeah?"
"A fidelius charm. It's why I only had to charm one person, but everyone forgot me. It's like I was hidden."
"How does that work? It's not like you asked Ron to protect a secret."
"But I did. He just wasn't aware of it. The memory and obliviate charms took care of his forgetting, and the fidelius ensured he would never remember, because I needed him not to." She paused to take a deep breath. "It would only work like that with someone who you knew would never betray you."
Hermione glanced down at her plate, looking pained. Ron finished the rest of his liquid breakfast in one gulp. "That's great," he said. "Can we go?"
"No," Harry said, putting an arm out to stop Ron from leaving. "Hermione, I have to tell you something. When we began looking for you, it started an investigation. We've spent the last three years investigating people of suspicion and this showed up on the Ministry's radar. There has to be a full report here."
"What are you saying?"
"You have to come back with us."
"Come back?" Hermione sat back quickly, sputtering and looking panicked. "I can't come back. I… I have a life here, and things to do."
"I'm sure the library can do without you for a few days," Ron snickered. Hermione stared at him in disbelief.
"I absolutely cannot come. It's out of the question."
"If you don't come peacefully with us now," Harry said slowly, "Ministry officials will show up at your home and take you forcibly to Azkaban."
Hermione sat frozen for a moment, her mouth open in an O shape. Then, before she could respond, an arm stretched itself across the table, holding a coffee pot.
"Another cuppa for you dear?" Gladys asked.
"No, no thank you. I'm good now."
"Shame. Hermione, when is Sandy getting back in town? Should be soon, right?"
"Um, yes. This evening actually. I need to go now, Gladys." Hermione jumped up from the booth and threw some pound notes on the table. She grabbed her bag and ran out the door in haste. Harry sighed and shot up as well, giving Gladys an apologetic look before darting out onto the street. The sound of footsteps behind him told him Ron wasn't far behind.
"Hermione, you're being unreasonable," he shouted toward the bobbing head of brunette hair in front of him. She was walking with speed down the high street, turning on a side path to begin climbing the hill that Harry knew led to her cottage. He picked up his own speed, though he knew there was no danger of Hermione outrunning them.
"Leave me alone!" She rushed up the steps of her cottage and thrust the front door open, slamming it shut behind her. Harry reached the front door seconds after her and Ron pulled up behind him. The redhead hadn't broken a sweat, having to exert less energy than the rest of them to keep up with his long legs. Harry banged on the door.
"Hermione, I am coming in there whether you like it or not!" He twisted the door knob to find it, unsurprisingly, locked. "Alohomora."
The door opened with a click and both Harry and Ron entered. The house was dark, but it didn't take long to find Hermione in the small space. She stood in the kitchen, her back to them, leaning over the sink. Her shoulders were shaking.
"Harry, I am begging you. Please leave here and don't come back."
"There's no choice here. If I don't bring you back, the consequences will be worse for you. But if you come now, I can probably smooth this over and make it go away quickly. I can even keep you at the burrow, you won't need to stay with the Ministry."
Harry would have said more to soothe her, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Hermione turned at the sound, all color drained from her face. She looked like she had seen a ghost. No, she looked like she had seen Voldemort himself. Harry had never seen her so frightened.
"It's okay, you can get the door."
"I'll fight you," Hermione said in a small voice. Harry fought the feeling of pride in his gut. Even now, she was the same girl, brave to a fault.
"Hermione, we're two well trained aurors. You don't have a wand, and you haven't done magic in three years. You wouldn't stand a chance."
"You wouldn't turn your wand on me."
Ron let out a low, mean chuckle. "Feels good, does it?"
Hermione was quiet again, as if weighing her options. She seemed to come to come to some sort of conclusion, nodding to herself and squaring her shoulders.
"Are you going to get the door then?" Harry asked. Hermione crossed the floor of the kitchen in a few long strides and exited. Harry stood next to Ron, who looked uncomfortable with the way things had gone. In fact, he looked like he would rather be anywhere else on Earth right now. Harry heard the front door click open and Hermione greet whoever was on the other side.
"Sorry I'm early Hermione," a female voice said. "But I got called in to work."
"That's fine Sandy. Thanks for the help, I really needed the break."
Harry heard the door shut again, and he heard Hermione's footsteps as she walked toward to kitchen again. The footsteps stopped just outside the entrance to the kitchen, then started up again.
Hermione reemerged in the kitchen in front of Harry and Ron. In her arms was a smiling, redheaded toddler.
A/N: Thanks for reading and please vote and comment!