Lost and Found

VIII

Coming Home

"Time to wake up! Move along, now, you slugabed! It's time to get going!"

Hermione grimaced as the alarm clock continued its litany of phrases designed to wake them up. She could not fathom why the darn thing was going off, anyway, and was grateful when she felt the bed shift. There was a thunk as Ron hit the clock and it gave a final squawk before settling the dark room back into silence.

The bed shifted again and Hermione felt a hand on her hip. Eyes still closed, she smiled to herself. Was it possible Ron had set the alarm clock so they could enjoy some early morning 'activities'? That seemed awfully scheduled of him.

"Hermione?" Ron asked quietly. Hermione could feel him leaning over her, trying to ascertain if she was awake. "Hermione, it's time to get up."

Hermione's smile faded. Time to get up for what? They were on their honeymoon; they did not need to hurry off anywhere. If Ron had planned something for this morning, particularly this early, he would have told her last night so she would be prepared for whatever he had on the itinerary. That was what he had done thus far. After a moment of thought, Hermione decided it would be just like him to forget to mention something at this point. There were only three days left of their trip and the novelty of having created a timetable and sticking with it could be wearing off. Well, Hermione decided, he would have a job of waking her up for some event he had neglected to tell her about.

She felt Ron move closer and he whispered in her ear. "Hermione...please wake up." She did not respond. When Ron kissed her below her ear it was all Hermione could do to lay still. "Please?" Ron asked and then kissed her again.

Resolved, Hermione kept her ground by not moving. She knew Ron was aware that she was awake. No one slept as stiffly as Hermione was holding herself. She heard Ron sigh and then there was a pause as he thought about how to get her attention. After a moment Hermione felt a breeze as Ron gently blew a breath of air into her ear canal. She shivered and Ron chuckled.

"I knew you were awake," he boasted huskily.

"I am not," Hermione argued, grinning. Ron blew in her ear again and she shrugged her shoulders up around her neck in a pretend effort to discourage him. The truth was, she really liked it when he did that.

Ron sighed again, loudly this time. "Well," he said, "I guess you leave me no choice." He slid his hand from her hip to her waist.

Hermione's eyes flew open an instant before Ron started tickling her. "NO!" she squealed, laughing. "Ron, don't!" She rolled over quickly and, as she did so, she felt her elbow connect with something hard.

Ron yelped and immediately stopped tickling her. "OW!"

"Oh, Ron! I'm so sorry! Where did I get you?" Hermione sat up and reached for her wand. "Lumos!" she said and the tip of her wand lit up the room. She saw Ron blink in the sudden light. He was flat on his back and holding his eye where she had hit him.

"Turn that thing off," said Ron, his good eye glaring at her.

"Let me see it," said Hermione.

"No."

"Ron," Hermione insisted. "Let me see your eye."

"No, it's fine. Get rid of the light."

"But--"

"Hermione, the light's making it feel worse."

Chastened, Hermione reluctantly muttered the spell that doused the light and set the wand back on the table next to her side of the bed. With the light gone, Hermione blinked at the darkness as she waited for her eyes to adjust. When she could see Ron's shape next to her, she reached out until her fingers gently touched his face. She felt Ron wince and paused. When he did not pull away, she moved her hand until she found his, still holding his eye. He let her move his fingers as she caressed the area.

"I'm sorry, Ron," she said.

"S'okay," muttered Ron.

Hermione smiled as she heard the petulance in Ron's voice. Leaning forward, she found his face and kissed the corner of his eye. "Is that better?" she asked.

There was a pause as Ron thought about it. "A little," he said. "Maybe if you did it again..." his voice trailed off as Hermione again leaned in and kissed him.

"Better now?"

"Third time's the charm?"

Laughing softly, Hermione moved towards him again. At the last second he turned his head and her lips found the corner of his mouth. Ron deepened the kiss and moved until he was looming over her. Pulling away and looking down at her he said, "I reckon we have a little bit of time before we really have to get up."

Hermione grinned, "I'm so glad to hear that."

~*~

Ron and Hermione were laughing as they entered the kitchen. Their laughter died away as they came face to face with Charlie Weasley. He was standing next to the kitchen table, glaring at them and tapping his foot. He raised his eyebrows at them and looked pointedly at the clock. Charlie's girlfriend, Anya, was sitting across the table. She glanced once at Hermione and Ron and did not bother trying to disguise her smile.

"You were supposed to be in here an hour ago," said Charlie, clearly annoyed.

"Er, yes, well," stuttered Ron. "We, er, overslept." His ears turned pink as he grinned broadly.

Charlie narrowed his eyes and looked at Ron more closely. "Where did you get that black eye?"

Hermione giggled as Ron struggled to come up with a good reason for his injury. After a moment, Ron gave up and simply said, "Hermione elbowed me in her sleep."

Charlie blinked at Hermione who shrugged. Shaking his head, Charlie sighed and said, "Well, we've still got time but we have to hurry." He picked a bag up off the table and slung it over his shoulder. Anya got up and the two of them headed toward the door.

Hermione turned to Ron. "Where are we going?"

Ron grinned as he picked another bag up off the table. Copying Charlie's motion of slinging it over his shoulder, he said, "It's a surprise." She looked at him questioningly as he held out his hand to her. "Come on," he urged. "It's going to be great."

Hermione took Ron's hand and they walked out into the morning.

The four of them walked silently for a while. They could hear the dragons that Charlie and Anya worked with bellowing in the distance. The dragon cries were punctuated by shouts from their handlers as they tried to control the beasts. It was morning feeding time at the Romanian Dragon Care Center and one of the most dangerous times of day for those who worked with the creatures. Hungry dragons were not to be toyed with and the sooner they were fed the better.

Hermione did not know where they were headed but that was the way it had been with much of this wedding trip Ron had organized. They spent the first three days of their married life in the small cottage among the trees. It was a blissful time and Hermione had been somewhat reluctant to leave their little corner of solitude. In the end Ron had persuaded her by saying, "You don't want to ruin the rest of my plans, do you? How do you know it doesn't get better than this, anyway?" Hermione was unsure that anything could get better than the cottage, but she acquiesced and let Ron lead her out of the woods.

Ron then took Hermione to Paris for a few days. They stayed in a Wizarding community Hermione had never before noticed while on previous trips to the French city with her parents. It reminded her a bit of Diagon Alley but with a flair that could only have been provided by the French. She had looked wonderingly in the shop windows as they walked past on their way to the museums, libraries, and historical sights Ron plotted out on a map he had purchased in Flourish and Blotts the same day he went to Madame Malkin's to purchase his wedding robes.

Hermione knew Ron had been bored silly while she excitedly toured the musty old buildings and exclaimed over their artifacts. Several times she had seen Ron's eyes glaze over as they wandered through yet another gallery of Muggle paintings, but whenever she caught his eye, he smiled quietly at her and said nothing. This, of course, only encouraged her to continue to take her time and examine every little thing that caught her eye.

The only place that had even remotely interested Ron was a Wizarding museum dating back to the twelfth century. It was hidden away in a remote corner of the city and had taken some searching for but, after finding a few friendly witches and wizards, all of whom had gazed indulgently at the newly married couple, they managed to locate it. Ron had obediently followed Hermione about as she went from one exhibit to another, always reading the dusty placards and then studying the displays intently.

They arrived shortly before lunch and Hermione completely forgot about the meal in her excitement. "Look at all these wonderful things, Ron!" she exclaimed. Ron simply smiled or nodded or added a noncommittal comment where appropriate, all the while ignoring the rumbling of his stomach that she could hear echoing across the wide halls they were walking through. She was waiting for him to say something about needing a meal but, to her amazement, he kept quiet.

Ron completely forgot about his stomach when they entered an antechamber in the late afternoon that was devoted completely to Quidditch. Just inside the doorway he had stopped suddenly, his eyes wide as he took in the room and the displays devoted solely to the Wizarding sport. "Wicked!"

Now it was Hermione's turn to indulge her spouse as he studied the different Quaffles through the ages and marveled at the stuffed Snidgets on display. Ron's favorite display was that of the evolution of the Quidditch broomstick while Hermione became quite interested in a display featuring representations of the uniforms of all the European Quidditch teams. Finally, a guard came by and informed them that the museum would be closing in five minutes. As the door clicked behind them, Ron said "The Museum of Quidditch in London has a much better display on the history of the Bludger." Hermione smirked.

When their time in Paris was over, Ron surprised Hermione again by informing her they were heading to Romania to see Charlie and Anya. Ron said he thought it would be interesting to see the dragons his brother and Anya worked with and Hermione agreed.

Their first day there, they were reintroduced to Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback, a dragon they met as a baby during their first year at Hogwarts. Norbert did not recognize them and tried to turn them into crisps for getting too close to his paddock. Ron and Hermione then stood back and watched as Charlie not only walked to the paddock gate but also into the enclosure and actually had the dragon leaning down to have what Hermione thought might be an ear, scratched. Hermione turned to Ron with wide eyes and said, "Charlie certainly does have a way with dragons, doesn't he?"

As they continued to walk away from the dragon center and the surrounding buildings that housed those who took care of them, Hermione wondered where they could be going. They had been walking about ten minutes when she heard a shout and looked up to see a man and a little boy waving. Charlie and Anya waved back. When they reached the two there was a brief conversation between the man and Anya, who spoke four languages, and then Anya said, "Igor found it almost immediately. His father says he is a very bright child."

Igor, who appeared to be about four-years-old, was proudly holding a tarnished teaspoon in his hand. Hermione glanced at Ron. He just smiled back at her and squeezed her hand. A few moments later, Charlie turned to them and said, "It's just about time. Everyone grab hold of the spoon."

With her free hand, Hermione took a small piece of the spoon, she assumed it to be a Portkey, between her thumb and forefinger. A moment passed and then she felt the familiar pull behind her navel signifying the transportation device had activated. She closed her eyes and wished, for the umpteenth time, that there were some form of magical travel that did not involve upsetting her stomach.

The sound of a great many people gathered in one place greeted Hermione as she felt her feet hit the ground. She managed to stay upright, opened her eyes, and looked across a field to see a large stadium. She closed her eyes again. Quidditch. She should have known.

"Hermione?"

She opened her eyes again and looked at Ron. He looked a bit anxious and she suspected he knew Quidditch would not have been her first choice for a honeymoon activity. However, Ron had gone out of his way to take her to places he knew she would want to see. He had followed her placidly around museums and other places that were of no interest to him. The least she could do was spend an afternoon watching a Quidditch match with him.

"Quidditch!" she said brightly.

"Yeah, you don't mind do you?"

"Not at all," Hermione answered. "But I thought we were between seasons?"

Ron grinned and started to lead her to the stadium. "Exhibition," he said.

~*~

Inside the stadium the group found their seats and settled in. Ron and Charlie immediately began to talk about the upcoming match and Hermione promptly tuned them out. After a few minutes she closed her eyes and reprimanded herself. Quidditch was Ron's life, both literally and figuratively. And Ron is my life, she thought, which means, she sighed, so is Quidditch.

Hermione set about trying to be interested but felt she must not have succeeded terribly well because it was only a few moments before Anya turned to her and asked, "Not a Quidditch fan, are you?"

Sighing again, Hermione answered, "Not really. You?"

"I didn't used to be," Anya replied. "But then I met Charlie. When he wasn't talking about dragons he was talking about Quidditch. I learned to like it because it was a way of spending time with him. Take today," Anya shifted in her seat so she was facing more toward Hermione. "I don't even know who's playing but I'm more than happy to be here because Charlie is happy."

Hermione nodded. "That's what I'm trying to do," she said. "But it's all Ron talks about and I was so happy to have a break from it."

"Ronald, his job is Quidditch?"

"Yes. He works in the offices of the Chudley Cannons."

Anya laughed. "Then you had better change your thinking or it will be the end of you. You need to change your attitude about it, Hermione. Find a way to accept that it makes your Ron happy and that will make you happy."

Sitting quietly for a moment, Hermione thought about this. Anya was right. She had to make her peace with Quidditch and its presence in her and Ron's life or it would come between them. She nodded at Anya. "You're right," she said. "I will try to be more accepting of it."

"Good," said Anya. "You and Ronald, you are destined to be together. It would be foolish to let the small things get in between the two of you. The small things, they grow you know. They fester and you don't realize it until there is a raw, gaping wound and fixing it seems insurmountable."

Hermione smiled, "You seem very wise about all this, Anya. How is that?"

Giving Hermione a wide smile, Anya said, "I learned this from my marriage."

"Excuse me?" Hermione was confused. Anya and Charlie were not married. Were they? Had they gone off and gotten married and not told anyone?

"My first marriage," chuckled Anya. "I was married very young," she said. "It was a mistake on our part and ended before I ever met Charlie."

When Hermione continued to look at her in surprise, Anya added, "There aren't many marriages in our world that fail but, like in the Muggle world, they need to be worked at and when they aren't, sometimes, they just need to end."

Just then there was a loud boom and everyone jumped.

Hermione did get caught up in the excitement as the teams were announced. Everything was in Romanian, however, and she could not understand the announcer. First there was a blue blur as a local Romanian team was announced. Then the other team was announced, though Hermione had a bit of trouble understanding who they were, and a red blur flew past. The players slowed and took up positions around the stadium. One of the red players was in front of where Hermione and Ron were sitting and she leaned forward. It couldn't be...could it? Just then, the player looked at her and gave a little bow on his broomstick. Hermione's mouth dropped and she stared outright. Next to her she heard Ron chuckle and she whipped her head around to gape at him.

"Surprise," he said with a big grin on his face.

"You knew about this?"

"Of course."

"What?"

Ron shrugged. "When Wally heard we were coming here to see Charlie, he said that was perfect as he had tickets for this match. He couldn't come, but we could. At first I told him no, that you weren't really a Quidditch fan and I'd kind of like to spare you from it on our honeymoon. He seemed disappointed and went on to tell me who was playing and I thought about it and decided you might actually like it."

"That's what the surprise was, then?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah."

Beaming, Hermione put her arms around Ron's neck and kissed him. Pulling away she said, "I love you, Ronald Weasley." Then she turned and waved to the Quidditch player smiling in front of them.

Viktor Krum waved back.

~*~

A few hours later, Hermione was sitting back in her seat with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She was bored. This was turning out to be quite a long Quidditch match and, while she had enjoyed the first hour and even part of the second hour, going on four was really too much for her. She cringed as Ron, Charlie, and Anya suddenly jumped up shouting. She thought it was something regarding a missed foul but she was not sure.

Ron looked down at her at the same time she looked up. His expression sobered a bit and he sat and reached for the bag under his chair. After rummaging around for a moment he looked at Hermione and grinned. She tilted her head at him as he pulled something from the bag and handed it to her. Then her face brightened. Ron had thoughtfully brought along the book Hermione was reading. Now she could sit and read while the others enjoyed the match. With a smile and a sigh, Hermione settled back with Wizarding Wives...A Guide for the Newly Married Witch by Milt McLane, Wh.D.

Five hours later Hermione had finished her book and reread it. Then the light began to wane and she could not see the print very well anymore. Reluctantly, she handed it to Ron who put it back in the bag under his chair. She thought a lot of what Healer Milt had to say was quite interesting and she was looking forward to putting a few of his ideas into practice when she and Ron got back to London.

For now, though, Hermione was trying not to feel too terribly disgruntled over the ten hour Quidditch match. Honestly, ten hours was just much too long to sit here waiting for Viktor to catch the Snitch. She wished he would get on with it already.

Suddenly everyone around her jumped to their feet. Hermione also stood and craned her neck to see what was going on. She could see two players speeding toward the ground and knew one of them was Viktor and they must be after the Snitch.

"Oh, no!" shouted Ron, grabbing Charlie's arm. "Look!"

Hermione looked at Anya, confused.

"Petrovki is headed for the hoops," Anya explained. "His team is 140 points ahead of Krum's. If he scores before Krum catches the Snitch," no one seemed to doubt Viktor would catch it, "then there is a tie and we have more play. If Krum catches the Snitch first then his team wins."

Hermione had an immediate desire to see Viktor catch that little gold ball. She joined in with the screaming fans. The last thing she wanted was for the game to continue. Petrovki fired the Quaffle an instant before Viktor grabbed the Snitch out of the air and held it up. A hush suddenly descended on the stadium as everyone turned to the scoreboard to see who had scored first. The wait seemed interminable but, finally, the number under Bulgaria changed to reflect the 150 points for catching the Snitch. The number under Romania remained the same. A cheer went up through the stands and Hermione closed her eyes in relief. Finally. They could head back to Charlie and Anya's for a nice, relaxing dinner.

The four of them sat in the stands talking about the match for a bit while the stadium emptied out. Ron and Charlie, it turned out, had been rooting for Petrovki to score first.

"Why?" asked Hermione in amazement.

"Because, Hermione," Ron explained, "then there would have been a tie and the Snitch would've been re-released and the match would have continued until it was caught again."

"There was a match," put in Charlie, "where every time the Snitch was caught it tied up the game."

"Yeah," added Ron enthusiastically, "back in the fifteenth century." Hermione gave Ron a look. It seemed he could remember Quidditch-related dates just fine, but asking him to recall facts at Hogwarts was like pulling teeth.

"They played for more than a fortnight. They caught the Snitch seven times before it actually ended the match!" Charlie finished.

Hermione cringed at the thought of being at a Quidditch match for that long. In fact, she thought she would have gone home by that time and Ron could just stay by himself.

When it seemed that most of the fans had left, Ron and Charlie stood and picked up the bags they brought. They again slung them over their shoulders and led the way out of the stands. Hermione and Anya followed. They were almost to the exit when the men changed direction and, with no other choice, Hermione, looking longingly at the doorway out, turned behind them.

They went down a long corridor that had few people in it until they finally came upon a closed door with two guards standing outside of it. They stopped and Ron showed his Chudley Cannons identification to one of the guards who unrolled a parchment he was holding. After a moment he nodded and said, "Go right in, sir," as he pulled the door open for them.

Ron grinned back at Hermione and led the way into a comfortable room with a large fireplace to the left and chairs, tables, and sofas scattered about in a way that created a cozy atmosphere. It rather reminded Hermione of the Gryffindor common room. There were people, mostly women and children, milling about, sitting at the tables and drinking cold pumpkin juice and eating assorted pastries and treats that were laid out on the tables on heaping plates.

A tall blonde woman holding a small child looked up at them and smiled. Getting up from her chair she walked up to Ron and said, "You must be Veasley?" When Ron nodded she kissed him on both cheeks. Hermione bit her lip in a moment of pure annoyance at this strange woman kissing her husband. "I knew you must be by the hair," she said before turning to Hermione. "And you are Herm-own-ninny?"

Hermione was still scowling as she opened her mouth to reply when something about the way the woman pronounced her name made her pause. She nodded and the woman kissed her on both cheeks the way she had Ron. "I am very glad to meet you," she said sincerely. "I haff heard much about you!"

Hermione did not answer and Ron introduced the woman to Charlie and Anya, both of whom were treated to the same greeting Ron and Hermione had received with the double-cheek kisses. Looking sideways at Ron, Hermione caught him biting his lip, a habit he had apparently learned from her, in an effort to keep from smirking.

"It should not be long, now," said the blonde woman, looking toward a closed door on the far side of the room. "Vould you like a drink vhile ve vait," she offered.

Ron and Charlie nodded and the woman led them over to the table she had been sitting at. Setting the child down in the chair she had recently vacated she told them to sit and she would get them drinks. As they sat, Ron reached out to grab a few pastries off the plates. "Who is that woman?" Hermione asked him.

Grinning, Ron stuffed the treats in his mouth and chewed. He shrugged vaguely at Hermione as if to say, "How many times have you told me not to talk with my mouth full?" She looked at him in disgust.

The woman returned to the table and handed them each a bottle of butterbeer. She then picked up the child and settled them back into the chair, holding the toddler in her lap. Looking at Charlie she asked, "I understand you vork vith the dragons."

There passed a pleasant half hour while they all made small talk and Hermione wondered what was going on. She felt as though it was something she should have figured out herself long before now, after all, she was the brightest witch of her age, but it just eluded her. Every time she looked at Ron he smiled and looked away. It was as if he knew that the longer she glared at him, the more likely he was to give it up.

Finally the door on the far side of the room opened and several of the Quidditch players emerged from behind it, showered and smiling. Suddenly Hermione realized they were waiting for Viktor. She smiled as she saw her old friend walk into the room and when he headed straight for the blonde woman she understood who she was. They all stood and Hermione felt quite stupid as Viktor kissed the woman and took the child in his arms. He turned to Hermione, smiled, and kissed her on the cheek.

"Herm-own-ninny," he said, "it is good to see you."

"You too, Viktor," replied Hermione, feeling Ron slide an arm possessively around her waist.

"Veasley," Viktor acknowledged. "You haff all met my wife, Stasia, and our son, Ivan?"

Stasia spoke up, "Oh, yes, Viktor, you have such nice friends."

"Good, good," said Viktor. "Shall ve go, then?" He turned toward the door Ron, Hermione, Charlie, and Anya had come in earlier. "Veasley," Viktor asked as they were leaving the room, "vhere did you get that black eye?"

"Er," said Ron. "It's a long story."

He looked sheepishly at Hermione who whispered to Ron, "Where are we going?"

"Dinner," he whispered back.

"Did you arrange this?" she asked.

"I might have had a hand in it," Ron grinned.

"You are full of surprises, Ron."

"I know."

Laughing, Hermione added, "You are going to be so well rewarded for this tonight."

Ron's grin grew. "Promise?"

Hermione said nothing but smiled up at her husband and raised her eyebrows at him. Ron pulled her closer and chuckled as they headed to dinner.

~*~

Ron sat quietly, staring at the lighted map above the door. On the one hand he was afraid that if he took his eyes off of it they would miss their stop. On the other, he was able to nervously watch their progress as they drew ever nearer their destination. Next to him, Hermione sat seemingly blissfully unaware of just about everything around her, including Ron's anxiety. He knew she had to understand that he was not exactly looking forward to this homecoming. After all, it wasn't exactly home they were returning to.

Stifling a sigh, Ron swallowed as the train slowed. He watched as various Muggles stepped out of their car to hurry above ground while others came in and took their places. Ron fidgeted slightly in his seat and winced as he felt the corner of his trunk poke him in the ribs from where it rested in his pocket. In order not to invite odd looks from Muggles, Ron and Hermione had charmed their luggage to minute proportions so they could carry it more easily and less obviously.

They could have Apparated to the corner of Grimmauld Place and then walked to number twelve, but part of Ron's plan had been to take the London Underground. Hermione had not asked him why and he had not volunteered the fact that it was because it would take longer. Trying to keep from sighing, he admitted to himself that he really did not want to be going to Grimmauld Place and he did not think he wanted to see Harry either. He tried to tell himself that it was just fear of the unknown and, after all, he had known Harry for a long time, but really this idea of Hermione's was beginning to seem more and more farfetched.

The train stopped again and the Muggles repeated the getting out and getting in procedure before the doors slid closed and they started moving again. Three more stops.

Two more stops.

One stop left.

Oh, Merlin. We're here.

Without looking at each other, Ron and Hermione got up and walked out of the train. Hermione, knowing exactly where she was going, unhesitatingly set off to the right and Ron meekly followed her. He walked as slowly as he could but Hermione was moving at a good clip and if he did not keep up with her, he would undoubtedly get lost in Muggle London.

Hey wait a minute, he thought, that would create a nice delay. Ron sighed even as the thought occurred. It might make them get to Harry's later but it would also make Hermione angry if she had to run about London looking for Ron. Just suck it up, mate. Might as well get it over with.

Wordlessly, they walked through several streets before Ron began to recognize that they were very close now. Before he knew it they were walking down Grimmauld Place. They stopped on the sidewalk between numbers eleven and thirteen. Hermione took Ron's hand reassuringly and he looked down at her. She was smiling bravely up at him but he could see that she was as nervous as he was. He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or not.

They both looked at the space between houses and thought Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. Suddenly a house formed in front of them, pushing the others out of the way.

Ron gulped.

They started up the front walk, and before Ron knew it, they were at the door. Hermione took a deep breath and, reaching out a small hand that Ron thought might be shaking, she rang the bell.

They listened to it gong through the house. When it finished, Ron counted to five. "Well," he said brightly, "no one's home. Why don't we go find a hotel for the night and try again tomorrow?" He started to turn away but Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Ron," she warned.

Sighing again, Ron turned back toward the door and they continued to wait. It seemed as though no one was going to answer but he knew better than to try suggesting they leave again. He shifted his feet. He ran a hand through his hair. He looked critically at the chipped, black paint on the door. He turned and gazed at the neighborhood around them, wondering briefly if the Muggles could see them. If they could, did it look like they were just standing in between houses waiting for a bus or something? Speaking of buses, they could always summon the Knight Bus. They could go back to the Burrow, he supposed, or maybe find a room in Hogsmeade?

A small noise startled Ron and he turned back to the door in front of him. He thought he could hear some kind of fierce whispering coming from the other side of it. He and Hermione exchanged curious glances. They then heard a stomping noise followed by a moment of silence. After a moment the door started to slowly open.

"Welcome," said a small voice and Ron looked down to see Winky smiling at them. "Please, come in. Come in."

Hermione took Ron's hand and, holding it tightly, pulled him into the front hallway of the house. Ron looked around to find it not much changed from the way it looked the summer he and his family had stayed there.

"We has had your things taken to your rooms," said Winky, interrupting Ron's thoughts. "Master Harry Potter is waiting to take you to them." She turned to scowl up the stairway and Ron and Hermione followed her gaze.

Harry was standing on the landing looking down at them darkly. Ron took one look at his former friend's expression and was ready to bolt. It was only Hermione's hand tightening on his again and her other hand touching his arm reassuringly that kept him rooted to the spot.

His wife pulling him forward, Ron walked up the stairs with her. They were three steps down from Harry when Ron got a good look at him. Harry had clearly made some effort as his messy black hair was still wet as though from a shower. He had on a black sweater and black pants that, while rumpled, gave the appearance of at least being clean. His black shoes were scuffed.

Hermione spoke first. "Harry, it's good to see you again."

Looking at Hermione disdainfully, Harry replied, "Right."

Harry looked at Ron and the two men stood glaring at each other for a moment. When Ron felt Hermione squeeze his hand meaningfully, he managed to grind out, "Harry."

"Ron."

Silence. Well, at least we got the niceties out of the way, Ron thought ruefully.

Finally, Harry spoke again. "I'll show you to your rooms." He turned and Ron and Hermione followed him.

Harry led them up another flight of stairs and stopped in front of a door. He flung it open to reveal a large room full of unopened boxes. "Winky wanted to unpack for you," said Harry, "but I told her not to."

"Why not?" Hermione asked gently.

Ron managed to contain a snort. He thought it was pretty obvious. Hoping to get rid of us that quickly, are you?

"I reckoned you'd want to arrange things yourself. Besides, I thought you," he looked at Hermione, "might not like having a house-elf do all that extra labor."

Hermione smiled at Harry as though he had been so terribly thoughtful, but Ron frowned at the sarcasm he heard in Harry's voice. "That was very considerate of you, Harry. Thank you."

"You have this whole suite," said Harry stepping aside so Ron and Hermione could pass him and go into what turned out to be a large sitting room. "This room, bedroom, bathroom. Everything you need should be in these rooms."

Ron glanced back at Harry who seemed to be refusing to step into the room. The two exchanged looks and Ron got Harry's meaning; he and Hermione should have no reason to need to be in any other part of the house.

"Thank you again, Harry," Hermione said turning to look at him somewhat sadly and hopefully at the same time.

Ron and Harry snorted in unison. Without another word, Harry turned on his heel and left them alone.

"Well," said Hermione brightly, looking around. "We'll have these rooms in order in no time."

Ron looked at his wife. She was trying so hard to make this work. To have their living here accomplish what she thought it could. His heart melted. Hermione was such a good person and there were a thousand reasons he did not deserve her. Gathering her up in his arms, Ron kissed her deeply. When they pulled apart Ron spoke softly. "Welcome home, Mrs. Weasley."

~*~