Scattered

"Well?" Hermione asked.

Bill glanced up from the newspaper, startled.

Hermione waited impatiently. She'd woken up an hour ago and tried desperately to fall back asleep, but with no luck at all. She waited until she heard Bill go down the stairs and then waited a few minutes more. Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore.

Bill, Neville and Charlie will clustered around the kitchen table. Charlie was having tea and toast, but the other two were already digging into a hefty breakfast.

"What did Professor McGonagall say?" Hermione elaborated.

Both Neville and Charlie looked away. Bill sighed and put down his newspaper; Hermione could tell it wasn't going to be the answer she longed to hear.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Bill said, and she knew he was. "She nixed the idea."

She sighed, disappointed, but not thoroughly surprised. Still, she'd held out some hope that her old teacher would agree to let Ginny come to her birthday party. Hermione knew there were very good reasons for keeping everyone separated and safe and not attracting any notice. But that didn't keep her from missing Ginny like crazy.

Normally she wouldn't have questioned their circumstances at all; in fact, if she had to say so herself, Hermione thought she'd been very reliable and supportive throughout their ordeal so far. She hadn't questioned their flight, or their separation, or the safety of their current location. She's gone along with every step of the plan so far, and she'd even restrained herself from asking questions about the next step -- and there had to be a next step, she just knew it. But she'd done her best to be a good little soldier and not resented it in the least. It wasn't until she heard about the special circumstances that allowed Hannah and Seamus to travel to Tonks' safehouse that she began to wonder if an exception couldn't be made -- just this once -- for Ginny to visit her, on her birthday.

"Thank you for asking her, in any case," Hermione said dejectedly. She wasn't quite able to keep a stiff upper lip about it, but she didn't blame Bill and truly appreciated that he'd tried. "She didn't think Charlie escorting her here would be safe enough?"

Bill shook his head and Charlie shrugged. "I still think it would, for what it's worth," he said. "McGonagall has to know that I'd never say I'd do it if it wasn't completely safe for Gin."

"It wasn't that," Bill said. "She knows that, it's not about you. I think if it was anyone else... well, I just think she's being extra-careful about Ginny."

Charlie made a disagreeable noise and finished his toast. Bill and Hermione shared a look. She knew what Bill was getting at. There was something more going on here, about Ginny and keeping her safe. Hermione wasn't sure what it was, though. There were so many possibilities. The simplest one was that it was just Molly and Arthur Weasley's wish that their youngest daughter be sheltered as much as possible. Hermione knew Ginny didn't need to be babied, and that she certainly didn't want to be. But parents sometimes have a hard time accepting that about their little girl, as Hermione herself well knew.

She also worried that they were protecting Ginny because of Harry and their short-lived relationship. No one had exactly sent out a memo to the Order, and Hermione didn't think Harry had owled the Weasleys for permission to date their daughter, or anything like that. But it hadn't been a secret, and all Ginny's brothers had known about it. Someone had surely mentioned it and now, perhaps, they were worried that she'd be a target for Voldemort or his Death Eaters, someone who could be used to get to Harry. The ironic thing was Harry, Hermione knew, had broken up with Ginny to prevent exactly this sort of thing from happening, if that's what it was. He'd known he had to focus all of his energies on finding the horcruxes and on defeating Voldemort and that meant he didn't have time for a girlfriend, no matter how crazy about Ginny he was. But he'd also confessed to Ron that he didn't want Ginny to be in danger, for Voldemort to find out how important she was to him. Ron had understood; Hermione hadn't, and for precisely this reason. Breaking up with Ginny was just words. The feelings were still there, and everyone knew it. If dating Harry Potter had made Ginny a target, being loved by him from afar didn't do much less. And the Order, she suspected -- especially Mr. & Mrs. Weasley -- felt the same. It made a certain amount of sense, then to keep Ginny strictly protected. Even if Hermione would've given anything to spend just one afternoon with her friend.

And yet... it was all very logical, and probably exactly what was going on, but... Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more. Something that wasn't being said, about Ginny. She returned Bill's wordless look and nodded slightly; she knew he harbored the same suspicions but, like her, didn't have the slightest idea where they all led.

"Happy birthday, Hermione," Neville said, smiling. He stood and gave her a quick hug, then took his plate over to the sink.

"Happy birthday," Bill echoed.

Charlie grinned. "Happy birthday, even if you're stuck spending it with just boring old us."

Hermione laughed. "Thank you. I don't mean to sound unappreciative. I'm sure I'll have a wonderful birthday."

"Sure you will," Charlie agreed. "Ron's been making plans all week."

Hermione leaned against the archway separating the kitchen from the sitting room and smiled to herself. Ron had been so funny all week, clearly making all kinds of plans for her birthday but refusing to give her a single hint about what they were.

"Speaking of, I've got to go run an errand," Neville said. "For the festivities."

"With a little stop-off at Megan's house," Charlie said with a snicker. "Don't be too quick, Nev, or she won't be happy."

Neville blushed.

"Oh, leave him alone," Hermione scolded both Charlie and Bill, who'd joined in the laughter when Neville became so obviously flustered. She ushered Neville past them and towards the front door. "They're just jealous. Go on, and just ignore them."

"Thanks, Hermione," he said, and paused. Bill and Charlie were still in the kitchen, joking amongst themselves and having a grand old time, and out of earshot. "I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."

"Of course," she said.

He grimaced. "Though, that's all wrong. I shouldn't be asking you for anything on your own birthday."

"Don't worry about that. What is it?" she asked, for he looked rather nervous.

Neville took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you'd like to... that is, because she'd like to meet some of my... would you come to meet Megan? Next week sometime?"

Hermione smiled warmly, genuinely touched. "Neville, I'd love to. I didn't want to pry, but I'd very much like to meet her. Should I ask Ron if he'd like to come along as well?"

"Well..." Neville hesitated. "Maybe... I mean, of course if he wants to, I don't mean to say, I just thought maybe you could meet her first and it wouldn't be so... sometimes Ron's not good at...she's a Muggle, you know? She doesn't..."

"You're right," Hermione agreed, figuring out what he was trying to get at. "Ron slips up and says things that sound crazy to Muggles sometimes. And Megan doesn't know you're a wizard. That there even are wizards."

Neville nodded. "Well, exactly. Sometimes I want to tell her, especially because we both love gardening so much, and I know how much she would appreciate Herbology. But I know I can't. Not now. I just worry about slipping up and one of us saying something that would make her confused, or something. And I know you grew up as a Muggle, so you wouldn't be likely to... no offense to Ron. I just can't let her find out about any of this. Not yet."

Hermione nodded sympathetically. "It wouldn't be safe for any of us right now, especially for Megan." She squeezed Neville's arm. "I know it's probably hard, though."

"Sometimes. But -- most of the time I just forget about it, when I'm with her. It's nice, you know? Just to relax for awhile and not worry... about everything."

"I do know," Hermione said with a smile. "And I'm glad for you. Absolutely, I want to meet her. Find out what day works for her and I'll be there."

After Neville left, Hermione paused in the sitting room, not sure if she was really ready to start the day yet. She'd been too anxious to sleep, and too hopeful about word regarding Ginny. Now that that was settled, albeit, not as she had wished it to be, she felt at loose ends. It was still sort of early, after all. And it was her birthday. And there was, as a matter of fact, a snoring redhead waiting for her upstairs.

She grinned and decided a little more lazing around in bed was in order.

Hermione slipped into the bedroom as quietly as possible. Ron had always been a sound sleeper, but since moving into the safehouse, small noises sometimes woke him up. She stole a glance at the bed and saw he was still sprawled out on his side of the bed, his back to the door and his face turned away, just his hair peeking out above, on the pillow.

She took off her robe and draped it noiselessly over the chair. On tip toe, she crossed to the bed and climbed up carefully, trying not to move the mattress at all. She slid beneath the sheet and curled up on her side, about a foot away from Ron. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and steady and she smiled, perfectly content, closing her owns eyes and wondering if she might not fall back asleep after all.

Hermione's eyes flew back open, though, and she jumped a little, startled, when a warm arm slid over her waist and nudged her closer. "Ron!"

His eyes were still closed, but she could see his face now. He was grinning. "You came back," he said. "Good."

He pulled her towards him and she scooted closer and curled up against him, her head under his chin.

"I thought you were sleeping," she said.

Ron stretched his legs, and yawned; she could feel his body moving next to hers, his arm still draped across her and his hand still warm on her back. "I woke up when you left before," he said.

Hermione frowned. "I'm sorry, I tried to be quiet."

"You were," he reassured her. "No big deal. I dozed off a bit again, and then you came back. Which means I definitely don't have to get up yet. That's wonderful."

"We should both get up soon, though," she said.

"It's your birthday," Ron protested. "You get to sleep in on your birthday. And you're the only one who cares when I get out of bed in the morning, so if you're still here I can be, too."

She poked him in the chest. "What a rationalization."

"Happy birthday, by the way," he said, and kissed the top of her head.

"Thank you," she said softly, her heart racing.

In the days since they'd talked in the backyard, Hermione had felt... wonderful. Happy. She and Ron were together, completely, with no uncertainties, no doubts. She didn't have to wonder anymore what was going on between them. She knew, now. And she knew he loved her. Wanted to be with her. It was the best feeling in the world. In fact, the only strange part was that she sometimes felt a little... disconnected. She'd never been happier, not ever. And yet -- they were still hiding, running from a war they'd lost, separated from most of the people they loved and still in danger, with no idea what the future held. How could she so happy in the midst of all that?

But she was.

They spent more time together, they talked more. They spent time with Bill and Charlie and sometimes Neville, though often he left to go spend time with Megan. Hermione felt good, for the first time in a long time. And Ron seemed more grounded, more content. He stayed with them more. He laughed more. And she didn't wake up in the night and find him staring out the window anymore; when she woke, if he was looking at anything at all, it was always at her.

They'd been flirting like mad, and every night they'd slept in each other's arms... but Ron hadn't tried to kiss her again, not since the night he came home from the pub and set all of this into motion. She wanted him to kiss her. She found herself unable to think about much of anything else. But she knew he was waiting, waiting to make it special. To make it they way it should be. Tonight. On her birthday. Tonight.

"What did McGonagall say?" Ron asked suddenly, interrupting her thoughts.

Hermione sighed. "She said no."

Ron let out a heavy sigh as well. "I suspected she would."

"It's okay," Hermione told him, trying to mean it.

"No, it's not, really," Ron said quietly. "You know we've got all the money we could ever need right now, and you have pretty much almost anything your heart fancies for your birthday, and yet you asked for exactly one thing. To see Ginny, to have her here with us for the afternoon at least. And I couldn't make it happen."

"Ron, you couldn't. That's the whole point. You have no control over the situation, which is why I didn't ask you to get Ginny here. I asked Bill if he would ask Professor McGonagall, because she's the one who does. She said no. I'm not going to pretend I'm not disappointed, but it doesn't have anything to do with you."

"I miss Gin, too," Ron admitted. "It would've felt good, especially with Bill and Charlie and you and me here, and then Gin... There still would've been a lot of people missing, but it'd be a lot closer to what our family was, you know?"

Hermione placed her hand over his heart. "It still is, Ron, no matter where you all are." He didn't answer. "If it's not safe for her to come here, for whatever reason they're not telling us, then I don't want her to come."

"I know. I agree."

"But I do miss her," Hermione said softly. "And Harry. Them the most."

Ron didn't say anything, just held her close to him, and Hermione knew he was offering her comfort the best way he could. They weren't little kids anymore, and the years, and circumstances, had certainly changed them both. Both she still liked to talk everything out, and Ron still liked to keep things inside. They'd learned, at least, how to meet in the middle, and Hermione knew, as she felt the steady beat of his heart beneath her hand, that he felt all the sadness and the loss that she felt, and that he was there for her, always, even when he couldn't share his own hurt in return.

"Maybe we could stay here in bed all day," Hermione said. "That could be my birthday present instead."

Ron chuckled. "Sounds more like a birthday present for me."

She pushed him away, laughing. "Ron!"

"I mean, it's going on my Christmas list for sure."

"Just for that, I'm getting up now," she said, slipping out of his arms and out of bed. Ron made grumbling noises and pulled a pillow over his head. She smiled and picked up her dressing robe and headed towards the loo.

"Okay, okay," Ron said, sitting up. "I didn't realize it was this late. I've got a lot to do."

"Do you need help?" Hermione asked.

"Absolutely not. It's your party. In fact, take your time and relax. Use all that bubbly stuff you like & all the hot water," he teased with a grin. "Then come downstairs, and I'll be waiting for you."

She gave him a parting smile and went into the loo, starting the taps and running scalding hot water into the tub. It wasn't the prefects' bathroom, that was for sure, but Hermione had transfigured the safehouse's ordinary tub into a deep, claw-footed place of relaxation. She had to admit, there was nothing like a nice, long, hot soak. With the help of a few warming charms, she spent quite awhile in the warm, steamy bath, thinking about the day... her friends, her birthday... Ron.

Eventually, she forced herself to let the water cool naturally and she climbed out, feeling incredibly relaxed. She cast a quick drying charm and got dressed, combing out her hair and letting it hang loose. She could hear the occasional voice drifting up the stairs, Ron yelling for one of his brothers to do something, and Bill or Charlie sometimes shouting back a rude, but jocular, reply.

Finally ready, she walked down the stairs slowly. "Ron?" she called. There was no answer. "Ron?"

"We're outside," Ron yelled.

Hermione followed the sound of his voice and moved to the backdoor. Well, it was a lovely early autumn day, so having an outdoor party would be rather nice. She pushed the screen door open and stepped outside. Her eyes were drawn upwards by a riot of color: bunches and bunches of brightly-colored balloons, gathered together and waving gaily in the light breeze. To the right there was a beautiful little gazebo set up, with a table set for a picnic lunch. Music was playing in the background and the sun was shining; Hermione was touched at all the trouble they'd gone to for her.

Ron came up and took her hand, leaning down and kissing her on the cheek.

"Do you like it?" he asked.

She smiled. "It's wonderful. You shouldn't have made such a fuss for me."

"Well, we had another occasion to celebrate."

Hermione was confused. "What's that?"

Ron turned and led her towards Charlie, Bill and Neville. Charlie had a watch in his hand and was seemingly counting down to something.

"Five... four... three... two... and one." He looked up at Hermione and smiled, and then turned towards the back of the yard.

Hermione followed his gaze, increasingly bewildered. Everyone else turned as well, looked at the tree in the corner. There was a sudden, loud popping noise as the air was replaced by two somewhat disoriented but smiling people.

She took a step forward, and then another. And on the third step, she began to run headlong into her mother's arms, with her father's swiftly wrapping around them both.