Work This Life Out My Way

Work This Life Out My Way

So far away

Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?

It would be so fine to see your face at my door

Doesn't help to know you're just time away

Hermione Granger stood shivering on the third floor balcony of a mansion in the Bulgarian country side. Viktor hadn't wanted her to be out in the cold, but she'd shaken him off, promising to stay out for only a moment longer. She needed to think, and she needed to do it outside, where she could look at the stars and breathe the fresh air- even if the fresh air happened to be below zero degrees. Hermione leaned against the railing and looked up at the night sky, subconsciously searching out familiar constellations while her mind dwelt elsewhere.

Hermione knew that as soon as she walked inside Viktor was going to propose to her. Most people were under the impression that they were already engaged, but this would make it official. For some reason, she wasn't sure she actually wanted that. She didn't know why. . . well, no, that was a lie. She did know why, she just couldn't figure out why that person still meant anything to her, or if he even really did. Ron had been a part of her life years ago, and she had once loved him, or thought she did, but he'd had his chance, and that time was gone. But if it was so much a part of the past, then why was part of her still hoping that whenever she opened her eyes the person holding her would be Ron, even though it never was? She wished she could see him again, talk to him. Maybe then it would be easier to sort this thing out. But that wasn't likely- they hadn't spoken for years, now. Not since that dance.

Long ago I reached for you and there you stood

Holding you again could only do me good

Oh how I wish I could

But you're so far away

It had been the summer after their seventh year at Hogwarts. Everyone had been at Percy and Penelope's wedding, and a slow waltz had come on. Hermione asked Ron to dance, and they had spent about half a minute talking about something, she had no idea what. Hermione had used that time to build up her courage to say what she was about to say. Nervously, her heart pounding like crazy, she looked up at Ron and met his eyes.

"Ron, I think... I think I love you." Her secret out, Hermione searched Ron's face for emotion, waiting for an answer to her unspoken question. The happiness she'd felt at finally finding the courage to tell him her feelings rapidly turned to anxiety as the only feeling that registered on Ron's face was shock. She looked into his eyes hopefully for a moment more and then looked down, embarassed, as Ron continued to gape at her. She silently cursed whoever had composed this song for making it so long as she stared carefully at the floor, forbidding tears to enter her eyes. Eternity could have passed and she wouldn't have known the difference- it had seemed as long to her. When the song did end, she had pulled herself out of his grasp and walked away. She wanted to say she never looked back, but she couldn't help it. On the way out, she had risked a glance at a mirror and seen him standing there, frozen in place, one hand slightly raised as if to call her back.

Hermione sighed, pulling herself back into the present. If she'd had any sense at all, she would've turned around then and asked him directly if he loved her or not. But she hadn't, she had been too hurt. Besides, if he did love her, he would have written to her by now, or told Harry, or flooed her, or something. Any one of the dozens of ways he could contact her... if he truly loved her, he would have tried them all. But still, she sometimes dreamed about him holding her again, and she would always wake up smiling. Hermione shook her head in frustration. Why all these buts?

One more song about moving along the highway

Can't say much of anything thats new

Oh if I could only work this life out my way

I'd rather spend it being close to you

Hermione looked back at the house. Through the sliding doors she could see Viktor standing with his back turned to her. Ron was part of her past. He hadn't written to her or spoken to her for years. She wished he would, but that was neither here nor there. Taking a deep breath, she walked towards the door. As she was about to open the door, she felt a tapping on her shoulder. Turning, she saw a strange owl hovering behind her, holding a very small scroll of parchment. Secretly glad for a reason to postpone walking through those doors, she untied the parchment and stroked the owl on the head, expecting it to fly off. Instead, it continued to hover around her, twittering with delight. That's strange, thought Hermione. He's acting almost like- but no, it was just wishful thinking. Besides, this owl was far too large to be the one she was thinking of. Sighing sadly, Hermione unrolled the letter and read it to herself.

Hermione? I know I love you back.

Hermione dropped the letter out of shock. She backed away from it, mouthing things like no, and impossible! This couldn't be, it was someone's cruel idea of a practical joke. She looked up at the owl that was flying in circles above her head.

"Pigwidgeon?" she breathed, hardly daring to speak, lest she wake up from her daydream. The owl began to flutter and twitter even more excitedly, proud it had been recognised. Hermione walked back to the letter and picked it up.

"Ron?" she asked, in even more of a whisper, carefully brushing snow from the parchment. She had a choice now. She could pick the way she wanted her life to work out. Hermione looked through the doors again. Viktor still had his back to her. He was fiddling with something- doubtlessly a diamond ring. Hermione looked back at the scroll of parchment in her hand. Both loved her- but who did she love?

Hermione looked between Viktor and the letter once more, then took out the quill she always carried with her and scribbled something on the back of the letter in her hand. She tied it to Pigwidgeon and watched the owl fly away. When he was out of sight, Hermione took out her wand.

"Apparatio The Burrow."