Old Friend

Old Friend

Hermione's eyes grew wide and she blushed. Ron Weasley was standing next to her, dressed up in a suit. She was wearing only a sweater and a pair of jeans. They greeted each other jovially and asked what has happened since they last met. But then it seemed as if a heavy blanket settled over them, suddenly turning everything serious. Ron looked at Hermione straight in the eye, and her smile disappeared. Yet she still looked happy, in a way. Ron bent down on one knee and took a little box out of his pocket.

"Hermione, will you marry me?"

Behind the couple, the sun rose, spilling crimson into the sky.

The courtship was a whirlwind; they were married in two weeks. It was celebration beyond anything Hermione had ever known, from Harry yelling, "I knew you had it in you, Ron!" to her mother continually hugging her and sobbing.

"I'm so proud of you, dear," Mrs. Granger said after the wedding. "I knew you'd find a good husband, and a wizard to boot!"

"Thanks, Mum," Hermione said as Ron came up from behind and placed his hands on her waist.

"Darling, it's time to eat," he murmured.

"I'm coming," she replied, hardly daring to believe this was the happiest day of her life.

The honeymoon in Paris was, if anything, even better. She spent sleepless nights cradled in Ron's protective arms, thinking she could spend her entire life just like this.

The bliss, however enjoyable, was short-lived.

Ron, having been selected by the Chudley Cannons as a Keeper, was whisked away as soon as they came home. Preseason training, he said. She didn't have a problem with it, really. Hermione wouldn't be home that often either, having taken over the post of Charms Professor at Hogwarts. Nevertheless, she fervently believed their love could be preserved, regardless of the distance between them.

But as time wore on, she found herself irritated with Ron. Why wasn't he ever home? The Quidditch season had started, and though she was able to see him pull of spectacular moves from the stands, he was forever chatting with his teammates. What about your wife? she thought bitterly.

On the other hand, had Ron been home more often, she wouldn't have been there. Being a Professor at Hogwarts was much harder than she ever expected, and she was only allowed home on weekends. Even then, there were always the poorly written essays to grade. Surely she hadn't written that horribly during her Hogwarts years.

Thus it was one lonely winter afternoon was Hermione sitting at her desk, reading through an essay on Levitation Charms. She remembered practicing those in class...with Ron...telling him how to properly recite the incantation...

No, don't think of Ron. Think of anything, but not Ron. The mere thought that he wasn't with her made her want to vomit. She would rather be lonely than pining.

Staring blankly ahead in her reverie, she heard a distant ring. Was that her door? Couldn't be. No one ever visited. There it was again, and Hermione was sure it wasn't her next-door neighbor. Sighing, she dragged herself out of her chair and pulled open the door.

"OH MY GOD!" she yelled. "It's you, Taylor!"

She threw herself into his arms and recalled those pre-Hogwarts days, when she and Taylor had been best friends. None of the girls who lived nearby interested her. After all, they were more interested in lip gloss than in reading. But Taylor - she had been intrigued his quietness, his pensive blue eyes, but more, the fact he was reading a book. Her favorite book. She had struck up a conversation with him and had been immediately attracted to his views on the main character.

Hermione had not seen her childhood friend since leaving for Hogwarts and had told him she was going to boarding school. She had also told him - upon leaving Hogwarts - very recently she had graduated. It was apparent he had come to pay a visit.

"So, what's been going on since I last saw you, oh, when you were eleven?" he teased.

He was a lot more outgoing than Hermione remembered him. Time changes things, she reminded herself. Like her relationship with Ron. No, don't think of that, remember?

"Well, school was great."

When you overlook the fact I had to face Lord Voldemort, it was just wonderful, she thought wryly.

"Top o' your class, I'm guessing?"

"Umm..." she said, looking around and trying not to blush.

"Don't bother with modesty. You know you were the best in your class. That's how it was when we went to school together, anyway."

"Hey, you want to come in?" Hermione said quickly, eager to get the conversation off the topic of school. "It's rather chilly outside. I could get you some tea, if you'd like."

"Sure, that'd be great." He stepped into her house, shivering slightly. "New house?"

Hermione's glance went from the spellbooks piled on the coffee table to her desk, cluttered with essays, and remembered with comfort that she had enchanted the house so that to any Muggle, it would appear absolutely ordinary - by Muggle standards anyway.

"Yeah. Finally moved out of my parent's house," she said quietly.

"What's this on your finger?"

Taylor pointed at the gold band.

"Oh!" Hermione had forgotten that he didn't know she was married. "I was, um, I was married a - a while back."

"I see," he said, sounding somewhat disappointed. "Well, I'd better be going."

"But you just got here!"

"Your husband - he may be coming home soon. I don't think he'd want to see you at home with another guy, especially someone you haven't seen in years, even if he's just a friend, right?"

As he strode to the door, Hermione felt a searing pain within her, one that was even greater than the one she felt when she witnessed a Death Eater Stun Ron during the Battle of the Prophecy. This was simply too much for her. Ron could go and throw his Quaffle around and drink copious amounts of firewhiskey, but to see her childhood friend just walk out of her house...

"Taylor!" she said meekly, unable to stem the stream of tears. "He won't be home for...for quite some time."

He turned around, bitterness outlined in his eyes. Seeing Hermione in tear, however, softened his eyes, and he walked over to her and wrapped his sobbing friend in his arms.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked gently.

She told him of her husband and how he was a keeper - for a local football team. She told him of her love for him and how he was never home. She told him of often crying herself to sleep, wondering when he would come back, hoping that maybe - just maybe - he'd show up the next morning, his arms about her. But all she ever saw of him - other than saving Quaffles during a match - was the lonely little picture sitting upon her nightstand, one that was taken at the wedding.

"And sometimes I think he'll never come back and that he'll run off with someone else - a cheerleader, maybe - and he won't ever even say goodbye to me!"

"Shh, dear, don't think of things like that. I'm sure he loves you very much."

"Then why can't he just come home every now and then?"

"He'll turn around, don't worry. Now, I think you need a little rest after all of this."

Taylor carried Hermione to her bed and tenderly laid her down, smoothing her hair. Even with tears streaming down her face, he couldn't deny that she had grown so much more beautiful since he last saw her.

"Oh, Taylor, I just - I just don't know what I'm going to do!"

"Shh, don't think about things like that. Calm down, okay?" He sat down on the bed beside her, running his fingers through her hair. What a fool her husband is to forsake someone like Hermione, he thought. Her heaving sobs gradually stopped until only he heard the occasional sniff. "Feeling better?"

Sitting up and yawning, Hermione smiled.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"No problem. After all, what are friends for?"

She fell into his embrace, which only brought back problems. I should be hugging Ron, not my childhood friend...but his strong arms and comforting presence dispersed whatever thoughts of Ron she was having. Okay, now this is going too far, she thought. He's not supposed to hug me for this long.

But before she knew exactly what was happening, Hermione was lowered to the bed with Taylor's hand behind her head. No, don't do this. You have a husband, remember?

She thought of Ron's loving smile and his red hair...but that wasn't with her anymore. Ron had forgotten her. Her prolonged solitude overpowered her as she placed her lips on Taylor's. Yes, this is what she needed. She needed to feel loved. She wanted that from marriage, but that present never came. If she had to turn away from Ron to find it, then that wasn't her fault. She meekly protested, but knew it was no use. I only need love, and if only Ron knew that...

"'Mione?"

"Oh, damn!" she whispered furiously, wrenching her mouth away from Taylor's and glancing at the calendar.

How could she have forgotten?

It was the Cannons' week off.