Lost and Found

III

Hermione's Suggestion

Hermione and Ron left the Grangers' in good spirits. Since it was such a beautiful evening they decided to go for a walk before heading back to the Burrow.

As twilight began to fall Hermione became thoughtful. One of the things she and Ron had not really discussed was where they were going to live. They had agreed they would definitely not be living at the Burrow though they thought it best to stay there until the wedding. Anything beyond that, however, was still up in the air.

Hermione had had a brief idea but initially had dismissed it as being ridiculous. She was sure that none of the parties involved would agree. But then there had been a comment at lunch that had put the idea back in her head and she wondered if it might be possible after all. The more she thought about it the more she thought it just might be crazy enough to work. But first there was the issue of how to make her suggestion to Ron. She knew he would not like it.

The more quiet and thoughtful Hermione became as she worried at the subject in her mind the more she could feel Ron sending questioning glances her way. She knew he wanted her to tell him what was bothering her but that he was trying to be patient and let her bring it up on her own.

Finally, Ron lost the battle. "Do you want to tell me what's on your mind?" he asked.

Hermione hesitated but then decided to take the opening. "Well," she started, "we haven't really discussed where we're going to live. I was just sort of thinking about that."

Ron's face brightened. "I've got some money saved up. I thought maybe we could get a small flat somewhere. Maybe near Hogsmeade?"

"I've been saving some money as well," Hermione admitted.

Ron looked like Christmas had come early. "I'll bet we could find something really grand!" he exclaimed. When Hermione didn't respond immediately Ron asked, "Hermione, what is it?"

Hermione still did not answer. Instead she was frowning. She knew how much Ron would love to have a home he could call his own and she hated to say anything but maybe, just maybe...

"Hermione?" Ron was still looking at her with concern.

Glancing around, Hermione saw they were near a park. "Why don't we sit down?" she suggested, indicating a nearby bench.

Once seated Ron turned to her. "Hermione, what's this all about, really?" he asked.

Still ambivalent, Hermione chewed on her lower lip. Maybe she should just let it go. They could find someplace to live and just be happy. They deserved it, and they certainly didn't owe anyone anything. But the idea was now fully formed and would not go away until she had at least tried. Suspecting what Ron's response would be Hermione plunged ahead anyway.

"Well, I was rather thinking that maybe we could gain the privacy we want and possibly help someone else at the same time."

Ron was clearly confused. "What?" he asked.

"I, well, I was wondering how you would feel if we were to live at, er, well, Grimmauld Place."

"What?"

~*~

Ron gaped at Hermione in astonishment. They had spent the afternoon discussing wedding plans with Hermione's parents and what had promised to be a happy conversation about where they would live after they were married had just taken an odd turn. Hermione could not honestly mean she thought they should live with Harry could she? He wondered if the house next door was available or something. Looking at Hermione he noted the frown lines in her forehead and the way she was wringing her hands. Both were sure signs that she was really nervous, and Ron realized Hermione was suggesting they live with Harry.

He shook his head in disbelief.

"Let me see if I've got this right," he said. "We're getting married. While we've been together for ages we are finally stepping out on our own to begin a life together that's just the two of us. I don't know about you but I can't remember ever being happier than I've been this past week since you agreed to marry me." He took a deep breath and continued, "And now you're telling me you think we should move in with Harry? Someone who not only hasn't responded to a single letter we, his best friends, have written to him in over two years, but who also hasn't been seen by anyone and is obviously holed up in Grimmauld Place sulking or something?"

Ron knew he could be thick at times but in this instance he felt he had grasped the concept fairly well.

Hermione winced and nodded. "Yes."

"You're mental!" Ron exploded. "You do know that, don't you? What kind of a life could that possibly be? What kind of start to a marriage is that? Living with someone who's cut themselves off from the entire world and is undoubtedly as bitter and angry as he was even back at Hogwarts!"

"Ron, please. Listen--"

"Have you already asked him?" Ron demanded.

"No."

"Then don't."

"But Ron--"

"No. I know Harry had a huge burden to deal with growing up. I know he had to make difficult choices, that he literally had the weight of the world on his shoulders but we were there for him. We tried to help in every way possible. We risked our lives for him and we suffered, too."

Ron was ranting now but he did not care. The idea of going to live with Harry at Grimmauld Place when Harry had so clearly spurned his and Hermione's friendship since the war had ended made Ron angry. Harry had been like a brother to Ron, another brother for him to have to live up to and to be overshadowed by. But still a brother. As he would do for all his natural brothers, Ron had tried to be there for Harry when he needed it and in the end Harry had responded by rejecting them all. Ron was loath to admit it, even to himself, but he felt hurt by that rejection.

Ron could see Hermione opening her mouth to speak, but before she could he continued with his tirade.

"How many times were we hurt because we were helping him? How many times did we wind up in the hospital wing? Hermione, you almost died fifth year because he just had to go running to the department of mysteries and even though we were against it we still stood by him!" Ron's face was bright red now and he could feel a throbbing in his forehead. He could always tell when his Uncle Bilius was angry because a vein in his forehead would pulse. Ron briefly hoped he was not developing the same thing. As a child it had always rather frightened him to see that vein looking like it was about to burst.

The more Ron yelled, the angrier he became with Harry. He supposed he had always been angry with Harry for bailing on the rest of them but there had been so many other things to deal with. Now, though, it all came pouring out.

"Not to mention the other losses we all suffered in the war. I lost my mother! Percy changed sides and I was the one who had to kill him! Bill almost died and Ginny might as well have! Could Harry have even once acknowledged any of that? No, he selfishly blames himself for everything and uses that as an excuse to hide away from us all so he doesn't have to see how people's lives have changed. If he wants to be that way, fine! But I am just as finished with the bloody Boy-Who-Lived as he is with us!"

Ron sat taking in great gulps of air while tears streamed down Hermione's cheeks. Neither of them spoke. After listening to Hermione sniff for a few minutes, Ron reached into his pocket and took out a crumpled handkerchief that he wordlessly held out to her. It was quite possibly the first instance that a crying female had not reduced Ron Weasley to a quivering mass of fear.

When Hermione's sniffles became fewer, Ron, without looking at her, said, "Let's go home."

Given the edge in his voice he wasn't the least bit surprised when, very un-Hermione-like, she simply nodded her head. The next moment the bench was empty and the air held the echoes of two small cracks caused by the pair disapparating.

~*~

Aside from the occasional "Please pass the salt" at dinner or "excuse me" if they happened to brush up against each other in a hallway, Ron and Hermione were not speaking.

Like clockwork Hermione continued to awaken in the middle of the night. The first night, after a lengthy mental argument with herself, she finally threw back her blankets and headed down the stairs.

Three steps from the bottom she paused and looked at Ron, who was, as usual, sprawled on the sofa. It took her a few moments to realize that Ron was not sleeping but, rather, glaring at the ceiling.

"Ron?" she whispered as she put one foot on the next step but Ron simply turned on his side with his back toward her. Fighting back a sob, Hermione fled up the stairs. Once in her room she buried her face in her pillow and cried herself to sleep.

The next night when she woke she was again unable to resist the urge to go downstairs to check on Ron. This time she was only halfway down when she heard a thud and she put a hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp. She silently crept down a few more steps until she could see Ron.

He was sitting up on the floor next to the sofa and grimacing as he rubbed an elbow. After a few minutes he shot a dark look upward towards Hermione's room and then got up and sat on the sofa where he ran his hands through his hair before setting his elbows on his legs and his face in his hands.

Mindful of the night before, Hermione took a few steps more down the stairs. She forgot about the two steps that creaked. At the sound Ron looked up sharply and then glowered at her so fiercely she simply turned around and went back to her room.

By the third day the others began to notice something was not right. Hermione caught Fleur and Angelina exchanging concerned looks in the kitchen but left the room before they could say anything. Once she saw Bill approach Ron out by the shed in the garden. Bill barely had his mouth open before Ron snarled something at his oldest brother and stalked off. Hermione distantly heard whispers between the Weasleys but she deliberately stayed away from them by hiding in her room where she spent the hours she was at home staring out the window wishing desperately that she had listened to common sense and just let this idea go. By Friday she again began to wonder if she ought to leave because it certainly did not look as though she would be getting married anytime soon.

And still she continued to wake at night. A few times she heard Ron's cries, as the nightmares seemed to recur with more frequency than they had in a long time. When she did she slipped out into the hall and sat on the floor not only crying silently along with him but also cursing herself for causing this rift.

Sunday dawned heavy and thick with the promise of rain. Hermione was about to pull the pillow over her head as it seemed the perfect day for a lie in when there was a knock on the door and it was flung open before she could answer. Startled, she sat up.

Ron stood in the doorway looking at her coolly. There was a flicker in his eyes but it was gone before she could identify what it was. It seemed ages before he spoke.

"Angelina's gone into labor and the midwife has arrived. She says there's quite a bit of time to go so we've decided to visit Ginny early today in order to be home when the baby comes." Hermione opened her mouth to speak but Ron continued.

"If you're going to join us," he challenged.

She felt it begin in the pit of her stomach but she had been wallowing in self-pity and fear all week and it took a moment to recognize the anger for what it was. Her eyes narrowed and her chin jutted out in defiance. "Fine," she spat; furious that Ron would think Ginny meant less to her now just because the two of them were having a row.

There was another spark of something in Ron's eyes as he tilted his head back at her. "Fine," he returned and left, not quite slamming the door behind him.

Hermione's pillow flew through the air and hit the door with a soft thump.

Breakfast was a do-it-yourself affair that morning. In the living room Fleur and the midwife were walking Angelina in circles while Fred hovered anxiously nearby. Every time he got too close to her, Angelina would snarl at him to go find something else to do.

Bill had done just that as he had bundled Girard up against the rain and the two of them flooed to the Leaky Cauldron to spend a day in Diagon Alley running errands for the family and just generally keeping away. Mr. Weasley was sipping some tea at the kitchen table while Hermione, hovering in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, held an uneaten piece of toast on one hand. Angelina was so agitated in her labor she was making Hermione nervous. She had been present when Fleur's labor had been at its most extreme but Fleur had seemed almost serene in comparison.

Hermione was about to start gnawing on her fingernails instead of her toast when a voice spoke softly in her ear. "Are you ready to go?"

Without turning to look at Ron, who had come down the back stairs in order to avoid the scene in the living room, Hermione said worriedly, "Do you think we should?"

"First babies take forever," said Ron expertly. "It'll be ages yet. Remember how long Fleur was in labor?"

Hermione nodded. Fleur's labor had lasted more than eighteen hours. "But, Ron," she said, "it seems so intense now."

Ron laid a hand on her shoulder. They both winced a bit at the contact as nothing between them had been resolved. "The sooner we go, the sooner we get back."

Sighing, Hermione turned and Ron removed his hand. Mr. Weasley was standing patiently behind them waiting. He nodded an acknowledgment to them and then disapparated with a crack.

~*~

Ron and Hermione stood quietly in a hallway on the fourth floor of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. They had already been in to see Ginny and were waiting for Mr. Weasley to finish a private visit with his daughter.

Ginny Weasley had been a resident of St. Mungo's since the end of the war with Voldemort. Day after day and week after week she sat in her little room rocking forward and backward and staring blankly at the walls. The healers said it was most likely caused by some sort of shock. Something had happened that she did not want to face; something that also seemed to make her angry as one of her healers had once told Ron, hence the rocking. As one of the two last things she had witnessed had been the death of her boyfriend at the hands of her brother Percy, Ron knew it could have been that which had triggered this. It could also have been seeing Ron unhesitatingly kill Percy. This is what Ron relived in the nightmares that had worsened again since the row with Hermione and it was what he daily hoped was not what Ginny saw repeated in her mind; if, indeed, she saw anything. Ron could not help but feel that she did.

Ron frowned. He blamed himself for Ginny's condition. One way or another it was his fault. If he had just been able to stop Percy from killing Neville or if he had been able to think of another way to keep Percy from then killing Ginny. Just as Harry was not to blame for many of the things he assumed responsibility for, Ron realized he really should not be taking the blame for Ginny's condition. They had all done things in the war they normally would not have in a time of peace and really, no one was to blame for anything.

Ron closed his eyes and mentally kicked himself. He was doing the same thing he was so angry with Harry for doing.

But what was the difference? Why was Ron able to put some semblance of a life back together while Harry had not? Ron opened his eyes and looked down the hallway to where Hermione was in conversation with Healer Welsh-Moore and he was hit with another thunderbolt. Ron had something Harry had never really had.

A family.

Despite the losses in the war the remaining Weasleys had all been there for one another. There had always been someone to turn to for comfort, someone with whom to share the pain. And Ron had had Hermione. She came to him in the middle of the night and held him while whispering soothing words in his ears until the images in his head drifted away and there was only her. She was there during the day, smiling at him for what often seemed like no reason.

While the Weasleys and Hermione had fancied themselves Harry's surrogate family it was clearly not a bond that had been strong enough to rescue Harry from despair. Harry had no Hermione. Ron had been one of the few to know how Harry and Luna had felt about each other but Luna had been lost in the final battle also and that loss must have crushed him. Ron knew he never would have gotten over it if he had lost Hermione. There were no arms of comfort for Harry. Suddenly Ron felt sorrier for Harry than he ever had. While there was still a certain sting that Harry had not felt he could rely on his friends, Ron began to see it through Harry's eyes. And Hermione's.

He looked at the door to his sister's room. Ginny had not been abandoned by her family. Harry should not be abandoned by those who considered themselves his. Hermione knew this. If this idea of hers might help Harry then Ron supposed they should at least try it.

Hermione had finished talking to the healer and, like Ron, was simply waiting for Mr. Weasley. When Ron caught her eye he saw a spark of anger there. Ah, good. Familiar territory.

Ron smiled.

~*~

Hermione was feeling annoyed with Ron for carrying his grudge this far. They were not still students at Hogwarts, for goodness sake! She had just finished her weekly conversation with Ginny's healer about the progress Ginny was not making when she looked over at Ron and he had the audacity to grin at her. And not just any grin. No, this was a full-out designed-to-make-her-heart-melt lopsided Weasley grin.

Unable to help herself, Hermione growled, "What?"

Ron's smile grew. "Mad at me, are you?"

What kind of a question was that? Of course she was. He knew that or he would not be asking. "Yes," she replied, trying not to let Ron's smile get to her.

"It's about time, you know."

"Excuse me?"

"Well," Ron seemed to be having difficulty containing himself. "We always seem to get things settled so much more quickly when you're yelling at me but you've been as sulky as I have all week."

Hermione did not know whether to laugh at the outrageousness of Ron's comment or to stalk over to him and wipe that smirk off his face with a good slap. As she was battling with these emotions she suddenly realized what Ron was doing. He was picking a fight with her as a way of opening up a conversation. She was impressed with the brilliance of the idea.

Throwing it right back at him she spat, "Oh, and your behavior has been so much better hasn't it?"

"You didn't have to let it go on for so long," he shot back.

"Oh, that's nice. Just place all the blame on me."

"All right."

Hermione felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. "Oh, honestly," she said. Giving in to the smile she said, "I hate you."

If possible, Ron's grin grew. "And I hate you."

They stared at each other across the hallway. Both were startled by Mr. Weasley clearing his throat. Hermione did not know how long he had been standing outside the door of Ginny's room. Apparently it had been long enough because he looked from Ron to Hermione and then said, "So, you kids have worked that out, have you?"

Well, they had not really but Hermione knew their short burst of anger had been the beginning of a dialogue and now they would be able to get past it. Ron seemed to know it as well and they both nodded.

"Well, good," said Mr. Weasley. "Then what do you say we head home and see if we have any new family members yet?" He turned down the hallway and headed toward the stairs. Ron and Hermione followed.

Ron took Hermione's hand and she pulled it away. Undaunted Ron grabbed her hand again and held on tight. Hermione kept trying to pull it way and then giggled. Ron sniggered in response.

Neither of them noticed a blond head peering out the window of the Janus Thickey Ward as they passed by. Gilderoy Lockhart watched them with a sappy grin on his bland face. "Ah, young love," he sighed.

~*~

Ron, Hermione, and Mr. Weasley apparated outside the back door of the Burrow. The first thing to greet them was the sound of an ear piercing scream followed by several loud curses in which Fred's name was mentioned more than once.

With the air of a man whose wife had borne seven children, Mr. Weasley looked up at the house and said, "Ah, you know, I think I've got several new plugs that I haven't fully figured out." He turned on his heel and hurried toward the garden shed.

George had arrived and Ron could see him and Bill teaching Girard the fine art of de-gnoming a garden. Girard would yell down a gnome hole as loudly as he could, causing several gnomes to pop up from holes nearby to see what the commotion was all about. Bill or George--whoever was currently gnomeless--would promptly grab one, swing it about and heave it over the wall while Girard would laugh hysterically. All in all Ron thought it was a pretty good technique.

Another scream rent the air and Ron nervously looked at Hermione. Her eyes were wide and she seemed to be in the throes of an internal argument with herself. He reckoned she was trying to decide if she should go in the house to see if she could be of any help or if she should flee. Personally, Ron preferred the latter.

"You know," he said and Hermione turned to look at him, "we never finished that argument."

"No," she managed. "No, we didn't."

"Why don't we do that now," suggested Ron. "Say, maybe way over there?" He gestured toward the field where he and his brothers, Ginny, and Harry had practiced Quidditch while at Hogwarts.

Hermione nodded and gulped as Angelina cursed Fred again. "Or farther," she added.

The pair was just out of earshot of the house when Ron finally spoke. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, sitting on the ground and pulling her down with him.

Settling herself beside him, Hermione asked, "For what?"

"For yelling at you," replied Ron. "For being so angry about Harry. I just...I can't help it. So many people have tried so hard for him and he thanks them by ignoring them."

Hermione put a hand on Ron's knee and said, "I'm the one who's sorry, Ron."

Ron frowned and asked, "Why are you sorry?"

"For not putting you first. I got this crazy idea--" Ron snorted "--and I convinced myself it really wouldn't bother you when I knew I should really let it go." Making sure she had Ron's full attention, Hermione continued. "You always come first with me, Ron. You do know that, don't you?"

Ron responded with a happy little smile and, putting his hands on Hermione's shoulders, he leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. He then rested his chin on top of her head and said, "I love you, Hermione. I love you and I never should have shut you out all week. I've been such a prat."

Hermione smiled, tilting her head up to kiss Ron's chin. "I haven't been much better," she replied.

They sat that way for a long moment, grateful to not only have gotten back to speaking terms but also to speaking-of-their-feelings terms.

Finally Ron pulled back and looked at Hermione. "So," he said, "tell me why you think we should live with Harry."

Hermione gave him a look astonishment before asking, "What?"

"I want to know why you think we should spend our newly-married days living with a probably sour and ill-tempered friend."

"We don't have to if you don't want to. I mean, it's probably a bad idea and even if we ask him he'll most likely say no."

"Hermione," said Ron softly. "You had a reason for thinking it might be a good idea. Now, tell me why or this whole lousy week will have been for nothing."

Hermione opened and closed her mouth a couple of times before finally eking out an answer. "I feel guilty about having you, Ron," she said. "And for being so happy when I know Harry's so alone and miserable. I thought...well, I suppose among other things, I thought if he could see how happy we are and spent time with us again he might not want to be so alone anymore."

Ron was thoughtful for several moments. He was still angry with Harry but all Hermione wanted to do was try and help him. Ron remembered his musings at St. Mungo's and decided it was a pretty generous thing Hermione wanted to do--share her happiness with someone who needed it desperately.

Sighing, Ron said, "Send him an owl."

Hermione stared at Ron with a look of combined surprise and pleasure. "Are you sure," she asked.

"I'm sure."

~*~