A Whole New Chapter

Chapter 1: We Got A Move On

A few more minutes...what could it hurt...so tired...

"Harry, get your arse out of bed! Merlin, you're lazier than I am!" Ron bellowed. Harry groaned. He looked at the clock, which read 10:15. Bloody hell, he thought. He had had a late night last night. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he searched for his glasses. He smiled when he remembered Hermione's scolding, telling him he would feel more comfortable, and possibly look more attractive, with contacts. Ron fought for him, saying that they didn't need more girls pounding on their door. That didn't go over with Hermione too well. Unwillingly, he got up and headed to the bathroom.

After Hogwarts he and Ron rented a flat in the quieter part of London. Harry had gotten a job at the Ministry as an Auror, but was considering some other job within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Ron was an Auror as well, but applying for a job in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, and Hermione was working in the newest department, one dealing the rights of werewolves, house-elves, and goblins alike. She never liked it when Harry and Ron compared it to S.P.E.W.

When Harry had taken a quick, cold shower to wake up, he headed into the kitchen, where Ron was trying to fix some eggs. Of course, it wasn't working out well. Harry could already smell loads of failed attempts at breakfast from the garbage can. He shook his head, performing a Vanishing Charm. Instantly, the stench vanished.

"You could've at least had some consideration for my senses, Ron," Harry mock-complained. Ron turned to him, his hair a mess to rival Harry's, still in his pajamas, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Sorry, mate; I've had too many dates with Hermione. She still insists on doing things the Muggle way." Eventually he gave up and performed one of his mum's cooking spells, and breakfast made itself. Ron practically collapsed at the table while Harry poured himself some coffee. Ron noticed this, frowning. "Coffee, Harry? I thought you hated it."

Harry took a sip, scrunching his nose in distaste as he did so. "I need a pick-me-up," he answered. Ron nodded sagely.

"What happened this time?" he asked. Harry could tell that Ron knew that his problems had nothing to do with work. "Well, are you going to tell me or am I going to have to read about it?"

Ever since the war had been over, Harry had been all over the covers of publications. He was now a full-fledged celebrity, or as Ron would say, "A more tolerable version of Lockhart." He might as well tell him now.

"It's over," was all he said before dumping the rest if his coffee down the sink.

"Ah. What was it this time: too clingy, too ditzy, what?"

Harry massaged his temples. "A little of everything, I guess." Ron shook his head, not surprised. Harry was never able to hold on to a girl for more than a few weeks. It wasn't that they didn't want him; Sweet Merlin, just the opposite. Witch Weekly had named him most eligible bachelor, and many females had been trying to change that. Harry was very picky, which surprised Ron. It was either, "she's too clingy," or "she's too predictable." When Hermione introduced him to a rather exciting girl, he waved her off, saying he already faced death once.

"What are you doing, Harry?" he inquired suddenly. Harry gave him a look.

"Trying to make sure the food is edible," he replied, raising an eyebrow. Ron glared, but went on. "Are going to try every girl in England before settling down?" Harry snorted at this. "What?"

Harry faced Ron, and Ron could see that Harry's mouth was trying hard not to form a smile. "This from the man who still lives with his best friend after dating a girl for almost three years? When are you going to settle down, Ronniekins?"

"Don't call me that!" Ron exclaimed, but smiled all the same. "And for your information, I'm going to get everything settled tonight." Harry nearly fainted from shock. Could this be true? Would Mrs. Weasley's--Molly, he reminded himself, as she had insisted he call her that--dream be coming true?

"You mean--"

"Yes," Ron confirmed, "if she says yes, then yes." Harry only had one reply to that.

"Have fun with that one."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Shut up; I heard you.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"All right, I get it!" The alarm abruptly stopped when she slammed her fist on it hard. "Piece of shit." Groaning loudly, Ashley sat up. Last night was not a good one. Overworking was not her specialty. Hermione's, maybe, but not hers.

As she stepped into the shower, Ashley realized she hadn't talked to Hermione in weeks. She felt bad about it, but realized that they both had very busy schedules, Hermione especially; ever since she started dating Ron, her days were full. If only everyone was so lucky.

She didn't care anyway. She was happy with how her life was. She wasn't even 21 yet, for God's sake! There was plenty of time. Speaking of time, she thought, checking her watch. It was almost 10:30! She was going to be late if she didn't hurry up.

Hurriedly, she dressed and scooped her hair into a ponytail. Hopping to the door while putting her shoes on, she grabbed what she needed from her counter and made her way to the corner where Adrian was always waiting.

Ashley had chosen a flat that was in the busy part of Bristol (A/N: For the sake of this story, in case it isn't, just pretend that Bristol is a very, very busy place.), mainly because she liked the noises and the atmosphere of busy people. Yes, traffic could be a bitch, but did that matter when you were Apparating? Adrian was waiting for her with two cups of steaming liquid.

"Latte for me and hot chocolate for you," he announced, handing Ashley the hot chocolate. "Funny. I thought you would live for coffee."

"Can't stand the taste," she answered hurriedly. Shrugging, the two of them Apparated to the employee entrance to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. After speaking to an old television they gained access to the building.

It was busier these days. There were other people trying to pick up where Voldemort left off, torturing and even killing Muggles and Muggle-lovers alike. Fortunately, the perpetrators ended up at the hospital as well, mostly for spells and curses gone wrong, allowing Aurors to come and arrest them. The news would ring better if they learned their lesson and stopped.

It was dying down, but it would take a while.

Jazmine greeted them soon after; she had taken an internship to see if she had the right qualities for being a Healer. It was going...a lot better than most of her other jobs.

"You know what I've been thinking?" Jazmine said all of a sudden. Ashley didn't bat an eyelash.

"Just the fact that you've been thinking is good to know," she said, sipping her drink. Adrian smirked. Jazmine ignored her.

"I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I really like this job. Not just because you two are here, but because I'm actually good at this. I think I'm going to stick with it," she explained. Adrian groaned. The girls turned to him, eyebrows raised. "What?"

"Hate to burst your bubble," he began, "but you are NOT good at this. You almost killed three patients, and that was only last week. Even if you stayed here for years, you'd never be good at it. Why don't you just give up, like you always do?" Jazmine turned away from them.

"So I'm a no-good-quitter. Thanks for telling me the truth," she said, and walked away. But before she was out of their range, she whipped around and glared daggers at Adrian. "I know your secret, so you'd better be careful." With that, she left. Ashley turned to Adrian to see that his face had gone pale.

"What secret? Why don't I know?" she asked. He didn't answer. Okay, she thought, we'll get to the bottom of this later.

"Don't you think you went too far with that last part? She tried hard to get a job close to us. It's not her fault she isn't Healer material," she stated. Adrian sighed his she'll-get-over-it-soon-so-don't-worry sigh. Ashley said nothing. She made her way to her area, alerted her supervisor that she had arrived and went to work. Looking down at her list, she realized she had to work with the victims of serious hexes and curses today. Her pace slowed. It was depressing working with them, no offense to them, of course. How could their family members not even visit them? Many of those cases would never recover, and everyone knew that. They just didn't come to terms with it. She flinched, thinking of Frank and Alice Longbottom. They were first.

She took a deep breath before unlocking the door. Focusing only on what was straight ahead, she made her way to the Longbottoms.

"Good morning," she greeted cheerfully. She had to admit that they were making progress; they turned and looked at you when you spoke to them, though it was a dazed look. "Neville's going to come and visit today! We should get you checked and fixed up for him." Mrs. Longbottom looked up at her with wide eyes. Did she understand that Neville, her only son, was visiting her today? Could be, Ashley realized. Maybe his visits are really helping her. She made her routine check-up and the Longbottoms and proceeded to comb the missus's hair. Neville appreciated it when she did that; he said his mum looked prettier that way. Ashley had to smile at Neville's courage and faith. He was so sweet.

After dealing with every patient in the ward, she let out a great sigh. It was enough that some assignments were depressing. She realized that there was definitely something missing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron came to Harry with the news during lunch. It had all been set up, thanks to Ginny. Hermione had the night off, and he would be taking her out to her favorite restaurant, The Golden Sphinx, and pop the question during dinner. Harry teased Ron for a bit, saying he hoped he still had that Gryffindor courage, or that he hoped Hermione rewarded him well (he would so say with a wink). Ron would immediately tense up, maybe blush a bit, starting from his ears (he never stopped doing that).

Harry was currently sitting at his desk, staring at the pictures he had posted of fugitives caught and wanted. He had finally nailed Bellatrix Lestrange a year ago, and a few other escaped Death Eaters. He even had to arrest people from St. Mungo's, which was strange enough as it was. It turns out he was catching people who shared Voldemort's views and wanted to finish his dirty work. Not while Harry was still breathing.

He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. So Ron was busy tonight (he tried not to snicker) and he had let go of his flavor-of-the-week. He could just have a relaxing evening at home by himself. Harry rarely got free time like that.

Just then, the door burst open, and in came Ron, face flushed, breathing rapidly. Harry turned to face him with wide eyes. Ron looked as though he had just woken up; his shaggy red hair was a mess, and his green Ministry robes were wrinkled. Of course, Harry presumed, he could have just woken up from a nap. Ron always napped during the day, and sometimes he even slept too much. Maybe now was one of those times.

"I did it," he announced, a triumphant yet troubled look on his face. Harry was confused, and it showed on his face. "I asked Hermione to marry me!" Harry abruptly stood up.

"What? What happened to asking her at dinner tonight?" he asked, not daring to believe it.

"I tried, believe me, I tried," Ron moaned. "I've been avoiding her all day just so I wouldn't let anything slip. We passed by each other in the hall, and she asked me what we were doing tonight, and I said that I was proposing! I know: I'm an absolute bloody idiot! I couldn't help it, mate, I was nervous! I ran back to my office but she followed me. She was crying and she was all, 'Ron, why didn't you plan it better?' and 'Oh, I can't believe it!' I had to tell her everything, and she said we could go to the restaurant for a celebration dinner." Ron said all of this very fast. Harry stood there, a grin gracing his features. "This is all your fault, Harry."

"What? Why?" Harry inquired, the grin replaced by a frown. Ron glared and waggled a finger in his face.

"You jinxed me with your 'Good luck with that,' and 'Hope she rewards you,'" Ron replied. Harry laughed, and Ron joined in.

"What's Hermione doing now?" Ron scowled.

"Owling everyone in Britain with the news, I'll bet."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Something isn't right, is it?" Ashley woke up to the sound of Adrian's concerned voice. She must have fallen asleep in the staff's lounge. She rested her head on her hand, her eyes half-closed. "What's wrong?" She looked at him.

"That's just it. I can't tell you because I don't know," was her reply. He sat down next to her. "I guess there's a void somewhere. I feel like there's something I should be doing, going to or seeing, you know? Like there's something very important that I'm missing." She sighed.

"What are you going to do about it?" he prodded. She scoffed.

"What makes you think that, after just realizing this today, I have figured out a way to get out of this funk?" she spat. She didn't know why she was snapping. Maybe she should have had coffee this morning. Adrian seemed unfazed by it.

"Hermione," he answered simply. "And, knowing you, something you've been hiding might help." She sat up to protest, and then slumped back down, muttering something about him being right, which would only happen this one time.

"I've been thinking about changing careers, actually," she blurted. His eyes widened. "What? I'm young enough to do that, aren't I? We're not joined at the hip, you know." Unclean thoughts, he thought to himself. He mentally shook himself. "Maybe I should become a wedding planner. You know, 'those who cannot wed plan' sort of thing?" His brow furrowed.

"Why would you say something like that?" he asked, shocked. She was too young to think about marrying someone. She didn't even have a boy--oh. That's why. She's, like always, giving up hope, he thought darkly. That and being blind to something so obvious.

"Or maybe that internship in Italy. I could work for a magazine over there, but I don't really know the language, so..." she trailed off.

Just then, one of the receptionists walked over to them with a letter in her hand. It had the Ministry's wax seal on it.

"This just arrived for you, Ashley," she said. Ashley took the proffered letter, frowning. Who would be sending her a letter from the Ministry now? She opened it, surprised to see it was from Hermione.

Dear Ashley,

You'll never guess what happened! Ron asked me to marry him! Oh, it didn't exactly happen the way he wanted it to, as I learned earlier, but just the fact that he asked makes me so happy! I said yes, of course.

If it's not inconvenient, as you do live a few towns over, I would love for you to come and stay with me while we plan the wedding. I would also like for you to be one of my bridesmaids. That is, if it's not too much trouble. If you can't, I'll understand.

Love from,

Hermione

So the blubbering dolt finally asked her! It was about time. Ashley jumped up cheered as she read the first line, earning her some scowls and reprimands from other Healers and those who worked there. She apologized, embarrassed, but squealed with delight as she sat back down. Adrian was looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Are you excited about something?" he asked sarcastically. She didn't even glare at him.

"I'm going to be staying in London!" she exclaimed, prompting more looks. She ignored them.

"We are in London," he stated matter-of-factly. She shook her head.

"No, you douche bag, I'm going to stay here. Well, not here here," she corrected, gesturing around them, "but with Hermione. I won't have to Apparate so far, and I'll be helping her plan her wedding. Ron finally popped the question to her!" Adrian smiled. Finally.

"Well, you can't stay with her," he said out of nowhere. She set her eyes on him, daring him to tell her why she couldn't. "Well, how is she supposed to know you agree if you don't answer back?" She smacked herself, beginning to write a reply, when she completely abandoned that and told her supervisor she was done for today, which was true.

"I'm going to tell her in person," was all she said before taking off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione was sitting at her desk, running her hands through her wavy brown hair, frowning as she mulled over another Werewolves' Rights Bill. She was absolutely delighted with the developments in her relationship with Ron, but there was a lot of work to be done. She was still working on adjusting the laws concerning werewolves and marriage, but wasn't getting very far. It was difficult to find loopholes, too.

Hermione hadn't changed mentally since Hogwarts, but physically she blossomed. As mentioned in the previous paragraph, Hermione's hair was no longer bushy but silky and wavy, falling to her shoulder blades when loose. Her ivory skin made her honey brown eyes stand out. Her lips were a faded pink, and her features were more defined. She still wore robes, but they complemented her figure in comparison to hiding it, or as Ron so eloquently stated, "Those Goddamn Hogwarts robes hid too much of the good stuff!" She had appeared offended, but when Harry put it into much more polite terms, she was rather flattered. Without heavy books and supplies, her posture had greatly improved, and her confidence had been renewed when she started dating Ron. (Yes, you read that correctly)

Hermione let out a sigh and pushed her papers aside, rubbing her eyes. She needed a distraction; Ron's little slip of the tongue earlier could only hold her for so long.

Her answer came as a knock on the door brought her out of her reverie. "Come in," she said. She immediately grinned when she saw Ashley standing in the doorway, wearing official robes from St. Mungo's. She rose from her chair and enveloped her friend in a hug. "Does this mean you're staying with me?"

"I thought you were intelligent, Hermione!" Ashley teased. They broke the hug and looked at each other at arms' length (they hadn't seen each other in a long while). "Course I'm staying with you." Hermione smiled grandly and hugged her again.

"Well let me get a good look at you," she commanded in voice frighteningly like McGonagall's. Ashley stepped back, strutting around Hermione's office like a model in Witch Weekly.

Talk about physical changes. Ashley's hair was a deep red and straight, not wavy. Hermione estimated from her ponytail that her hair probably reached her shoulders when it was down. Ashley's skin contrasted to Hermione's; instead of a pale complexion from working indoors, she had a light tan. Her robes fit her well, and she was only slightly taller than Hermione.

"When did you manage to tan?" Hermione asked, curious. Ashley grinned.

"Lounging in a bikini on the roof of my building. It's fun; we should do it before the big day," she answered, eyes sparkling. Hermione nearly jumped up and down with excitement, relaying all of the details to Ashley. She admitted that she felt bad about how Ron's plans were ruined, but Ashley countered that by saying it wasn't her fault Ron had a huge mouth. Hermione grinned slyly and said it wasn't always a bad thing.

"I just might take a teaching job at Hogwarts, too," she announced, beaming. Ashley laughed.

"What subject?" When Hermione didn't answer, Ashley gasped. "Could you be anymore like McGonagall?"

"Oh, shut up," Hermione muttered, a little miffed that she had guessed correctly that the job she was considering was of Transfiguration Professor.

After talking for a good hour, Hermione decided that they should go and tell Ron that she was here. If Ron knew, then there was no doubt that Harry would know. She was scared of what would happen if they met up again, especially since she almost abandoned him after saying she would always be there. Hermione insisted, however, saying that Harry held nothing against her, as it was years ago and never even brought her up. Ashley rolled her eyes, throwing a sarcastic "Thank you," to Hermione. Hermione blushed, leading her to Ron and Harry's floor.

She could hear Ron's rambling from outside the door.

"Maybe it should be in dessert or in our dinner," he asked, "or should I give it to her beforehand? I mean, she already said yes so what's the point of a whole production?"

"Because every little thought counts, Ron. You don't want her to think you don't care for details, do you?" Ashley teased, opening the door and walking in. Ron swiveled around, his face flushed but smiling.

"Merlin's beard! You never did knock," he admonished, giving her a one armed hug. He gave her a once-over. "Lexy told me that you finally got some of our color," he started, tugging her hair, "and she also said you were a Healer. Why didn't you ever drop by to see us?" Ashley's eyes darkened slightly and she sighed.

"I've been busy, you know; hardly any leisure time. (This earned her a look from Hermione, who recalled her saying she lounged about on the roof of her building.) The days are so long at St. Mungo's," was all she would say on the subject, and Ron knew to let it be. She studied him, noting his changes. He had grown his hair down to his chin; it was now shaggy and a slightly darker red, but only just. He still had freckles, but they looked better on him now than when they were younger. He had grown into his body, no longer lanky but tall and more filled-out.

Still looks horrible to me, she thought, but who am I to judge Hermione's taste? She said this out loud, to which Ron scowled. Everyone laughed, and Ashley took a seat.

"Well, where's your other half?" she asked, trying to sound teasing but really nervous. Ron waved his hand and shook his head.

"He stepped out for a minute to Merlin knows where," he answered. "He might be looking for another girlfriend." He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, for Hermione rounded on him, incredulous.

"Do you mean to tell me that this one wasn't good enough either?" She asked. "Oh! What was wrong with her now?" Ron shrugged.

"He said a little bit of everything." Hermione threw her hands into the air.

"Same excuse," she muttered.

"Actually, Hermione, that's a new one," Ron pointed out. Hermione glared, beside herself in anger. Well, she wasn't really angry. Just very pissed.

"It doesn't matter, Ronald," she seethed, not pleased that he was correcting her, and Ron flinched at the use of his name. Ashley was looking between the two of them.

"Are you telling me that Harry James Potter is a player?" she asked, shocked. At Rona and Hermione's clueless looks, she added, "someone who dates a bunch of women, usually at the same time. I never thought Harry the type, but I obviously don't know him too well."

"He's not a player," Ron pronounced the word slowly; "he dates one and gets rid of her before repeating the process. He's simply a scarlet man." The three of them laughed at this. Ashley tutted, and inside she shriveled up. That didn't sound like the Harry she knew. She scolded herself immediately; she herself wasn't involved, therefore had no right to criticize.

"It's a sad day when Harry's labeled a 'scarlet man. But he has a right to do that; we're not even 21 yet," she noted. Hermione clicked her tongue, though she was holding back a smile. "You're not even thinking about this, are you?" Hermione shook her head. Ashley turned to Ron, smirking. "You'd better get to work on your 'special night,' Ronnie." He stuck out his tongue, earning a sharp "Ron!" from his fiancé.

An owl hooted as it flew in the room. Ron snatched the letter from its beak, and the owl flew off. The letter was from Harry.

Ron,

I took a walk and somehow ended up back at the flat. See you.

Harry

"Bloody berk," Ron muttered, reading the short message. "His timing is very convenient," he voiced aloud to Hermione and Ashley. At their inquiring looks he said, "Harry took a walk to the flat. Just when you get here, he's mysteriously absent. Well, not mysteriously, but like I said, his timing isbloody perfect." Ron shook his head, glaring at the parchment. Ashley almost couldn't speak. It was like Ron had gotten smarter. It seemed he was already making plans to set them up! No bloody way.

"N-no, that's fine. I should get settled a bit and everything, you know. We'll meet up later." What's wrong? Play it cool! She stood up and walked toward Hermione. "'Later,' you know, could mean tomorrow. Can you take me to your flat for a bit, Hermione?" Hermione nodded, telling her to wait for her in her office. When she was out of earshot, Hermione quickly faced Ron, her face glowing.

"Did you hear that?" she asked in a whisper. Ron rolled his eyes.

"I'm not as dumb as you think I am, 'Mione," he said defensively. After a moment of silence he spoke again. "What?" Hermione tried to hold back her own eye roll.

"She's avoiding him," she answered. Ron nodded in understanding. Sadly, his train of thought was far from Hermione's. A plan had indeed begun to form.

"We have to get them together. And yes, Hermione, I mean 'together,'" he said. Hermione did a double-take.

"Why?" Ron held back a biting comment to elaborate.

"They are good for each other, and plus, why not? Don't you think they should be together? You're always saying they have so much history, so they should have a future together." Hermione couldn't believe she was hearing this.

"Ron, you can't just force them together. Matchmaking, whatever you want to call it! They might not have feelings for each other. Ashley might be involved, for all you know!" Ron shook his head, writing on a spare piece of parchment.

"That is not the look of an involved woman," he argued. Hermione planted her hands on her hips.

"You've only had one girlfriend, Ron, how would you know what an involved person looks like?" she asked in scolding tone. Ron glared at her.

"I don't want Harry to be a scarlet man," he reasoned, his face breaking into a smile. Hermione grinned too, shaking her head as she went to her office. Scarlet man indeed, she thought.

Ron grinned; Hermione hadn't asked him who he was writing to. He sent the letters off. If he was going to pull this off, he needed assistance. Besides, maybe this was what Harry was secretly craving for. Maybe the reason he couldn't find the right girl was because the right girl had tried to be with him but he blew it. Ron scratched his chin, hoping that, if and when his plan worked, they wouldn't, er, "hook up" as Ashley would say. No, definitely not; none of that for his cousin.

"Ron, who were you writing to?"