Honestly, Hermione

Chapter Three: Everything Changes, Everything Remains the Same

Ron Weasley was in Washington, D.C. when he received the owl from his best friend (and now brother-in-law). Luckily, it had been night when the owl tapped at his hotel window. Those mad Americans would probably take pictures and send them to the "National Enquirer" if Ron got the owl in the day. Plus, it would have interrupted his work.

On a tip from someone close to the Aurors, he'd infiltrated the Secret Service. No, the current US President was not a Death Eater, but the Secretary of Defense certainly seemed to be leaning that way. Ron's job was to oust the Secretary of Defense before he mobilized a significant magical American population to Voldemort's side. The thought of his mission thrilled him. Discussing strategies with his undercover team made his day. It was even better than wizard chess, being an Auror was.

When he got the owl from Harry, though, Ron called in sick. He'd missed his best friend's wedding on a flimsy excuse that he was needed in Malaysia, just so he could avoid an awkward encounter with Hermione Granger. He wasn't going to miss the birth of his godson (for Ron had no doubt the first Potter baby would be a boy) just because the American Secretary of Defense might choose today to publicly align himself with the Dark side. He had immediately apparated to St. Mungo's delivery room, not even stopping to say hello to his family (most of whom he hadn't seen in three years) or subject himself to the cleansing spell.

One sight of his baby sister, like that, though, and Mr. I-face-death-a-hundred-times-a-day quailed slightly and took up his post as far from the birthing as he could get without actually leaving the room. Ginny, certainly not at her best, saw her brother shrink back and cast some truly choice insults his way. Ron, who had mellowed since his time at Hogwarts, took it all in stride and tried not to laugh.

A minute later, Ginny was cursing the day she met Harry Potter, and the door opened to admit someone Ron had hoped never to see again. Hermione.

She didn't see him at all, though, and he was able to observe her at leisure. Thankful to have something else to focus on besides the horrible sounds of birth coming from Ginny, Ron gazed at Hermione. She hadn't changed a bit. Ron wondered if she'd put a youth spell on herself (after all, she was the smartest witch in Britain) or if he was just being sentimental. He looked again, searching for any sign of change.

Well, he thought, she wasn't telling anyone what to do, for once. He shook his head. That was unfair. Just because she'd always told him what to do when they were at Hogwarts, it didn't follow that she was always bossing everyone. And even if it did -

She stood there, her back to him, comforting Ginny however she could. Ron finally began making out the smallest differences almost seven years had made. Hermione's hair was as bushy as ever, but she seemed to have finally worked out a way to contain it. It was twisted up in a bun high on her head, but even so fiercely contained, a few tendrils had escaped down her neck. Ron had never seen Hermione's neck so exposed before, and the sight of that milky expanse damaged his resolve more than if she had thrown herself at his feet and begged him to take her back.

Not that Hermione would ever do such a thing.

She was thinner, too, Ron thought. Almost - sallow. But of course, that was just old hurt speaking. Hermione still looked as good as he remembered. She was wearing Muggle clothes - no surprise there - in the form of a soft-looking brown sweater and a pair of blue jeans. Ginny had e-mailed Ron about Hermione's graduation last month, and to his eyes, she still looked like a student. And even though he could only see her back, he was well aware of how well those Muggle clothes fit Hermione.

Ron returned his attention to the important event he was supposed to be witnessing when he heard the tiny wail of a new baby. His eyes shot to the tiny bundle as the doctor handed it to Harry to hand to Ginny. Tears appeared in Ron's eyes, and he blinked them back before anyone could see. His face wore the same goofy grin it had done all his life, whenever he received some sort of praise or prize. His new nephew was certainly the best prize ever - Oof!

"Oh, excuse me. I didn't - Ron?"

Ron looked down to see Hermione gazing up at him with shock in her warm brown eyes. He suddenly didn't know what to do. It was like the first time they kissed, all over again. In another moment, though, he was master of the situation. He brought a finger to his lips and hushed her. "Let's leave them together for a minute."

Silently they made their escape, giving Harry and Ginny their precious moment. Ron took Hermione's hand and disapparated, reappearing in the hall. There, she wrenched her hand from his with a glare. "I think your sister broke my hand," she told him.

Ron took one look at Hermione's swollen hand and did something he hadn't done in years - not even in his dreams. He apologized to her. "Sorry, 'Mione. I forgot. Let's get that taken care of." He put his arm around her shoulders and shepherded her to the nearest empty room. He opened an unmarked door and muttered, "Lumos," just loud enough for the flourescent light to respond. The room was just another small generic examination room in the wizard hospital. Hermione was too surprised to object when he helped her up onto an examining table and gently probed the bones in her hand. As he worked, he muttered a healing charm. "It'll just hurt for a minute," he promised.

Hermione blushed at his words. Ron wondered at that, until he remembered the last time he'd told her the same thing. Then he blushed, too, right to the roots of his carroty hair.

***

In their sixth year, Ron and Hermione had had "The Talk." Ginny called it the DTR - Defining The Relationship - and had regaled Hermione with amusing stories of her own DTR with Harry at the beginning of the school year. At the same time, Harry had tried to stop his best friend from having "The Talk" with Hermione, telling Ron about his harrowing experience with Ginny in September. Ron, as usual, had ignored Harry's thinly veiled warnings and met Hermione in the third floor corridor that had once housed Hagrid's three-headed dog and an enormous troll. What had once been off-limits to all students, for their own safety, had turned into a great place for secret assignations by Ron's sixth year. Every couple used it, and Ron chose it for his talk with Hermione.

Ron would never be able to pinpoint the moment he fell in love with brainy, bossy Hermione Granger. Some people said he always loved her, and all the rows were just misdirected emotions. Harry dated it from fourth year. Ginny, who understood her short-tempered big brother better than perhaps anyone else, believed it all started in first year when Ron had made Hermione cry. Well, whenever it had begun, by the end of sixth year, Ron knew how he felt. And he was pretty sure of Hermione, too. They'd been casually flirting for almost two years by then, and in their last term Hermione had finally ceased bossing Ron to within an inch of his life. They'd fallen into a very comfortable, very close relationship.

Of course, Ron still called Hermione one of his two best friends. But everyone (even stubborn Hermione) knew that his relationship with her bore very little resemblance to the one he had with Harry. Ron was a lot touchier about Hermione, and he'd beaten Draco Malfoy to a pulp more than once over a muttered insult. Whenever Malfoy insulted Harry, Ron got upset, and offered to throw a punch or two, but he usually allowed Harry to answer Malfoy himself. Harry was good with a wand and always beat Malfoy in their illegal wizard duels.

On the night in question, though, Ron was ready to give up calling Hermione his best friend...if he could call her something better still. She'd shown up just at the stroke of eight - precisely on time, as usual - a little bit upset by Ron's request to take time out of her busy studying schedule to meet him here.

"Ron, please tell me you have contracted a deadly disease and need me to heal you," she began. "Because I have heaps of studying to do, and exams are only six weeks away."

"Aw, come on, 'Mione. We have six weeks. An hour won't kill you." He watched her as she girded up for an argument, and felt his own temper rising. Then he remembered why they were there, and he managed to control his temper. "Right. I don't want to start a row with you, Hermione. I just want - "

She waited, impatiently, for him to finish. But Ron was suddenly tongue-tied and just couldn't get his thoughts into words. "Well?" she demanded. He began to blush - he could feel it and wondered a bit angrily if he'd ever outgrow this stupid turning red. "Oh, honestly, Ron. If you can't tell me what you wanted to say, then I'm just going to go back to the library." She turned away and started back down the hall.

Her leaving was what drove Ron to his desperate act. He reached out and took her arm, spinning her around and pulling her close to him. Without giving it another thought, he planted his lips on hers. She gasped, but did not struggle against him. In fact, after a moment, Ron felt her arm sneaking up around his neck. He put his hands around her waist and deepened the kiss. It was only the beginning.

They never had that DTR.