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Tempus Fugit by MattD12027
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Tempus Fugit

MattD12027

Chapter 7: Ron (II)

October 2007

Hermione Granger stood before him. She was as he remembered, up to a point. The eight and a half years since he'd seen her had been good to her; she was more a woman than he remembered and her hair was shorter, tamer. Time, in its immutable wisdom, had aged his old friend beautifully.

"Ron," she nodded. Her eyes swept over the rest of his family. "Hello everyone."

"Oh, Hermione, it's been too long," his mum said, sweeping forward and pulling Hermione into a hug. This broke the tension that had settled over the group and Hermione was passed around, embracing each of the Weasleys in turn. Ron was the last; he caught a quick smile on her face before they hugged lightly. He patted her back briefly before they separated.

"Why don't we get a table," Arthur suggested. "We can all catch up there."

So Ron and his family, along with Hermione, put some food on their plates and walked to a nearby table. Seeing Hermione sitting there with Ginny, George, Percy, Charlie, and his mum and dad was a bit surreal, after so long, but he was determined to not make an arse of himself. At one point he may have had the emotional range of a teaspoon-he may have been a selfish, jealous prat-but he hoped that he'd grown a bit since then. This day would be the test.

He caught Hermione's eyes wandering around the Great Hall.

"He's not here yet," Ron said. Her eyes shot to him. "I'm not even sure if he's coming."

"Who, Harry?" Ginny asked. Ron nodded. "Why wouldn't he come? He loved Minerva."

Ron shrugged. "It's just been a long time, Gin."

"It has for the rest of us too, Ron," his little sister said. "When was the last time any of us was back here? Yet here we all are."

"True," Hermione agreed. "I guess if anyone would come, it would be Harry. He's probably on his way." Ron met her eyes for a moment, but they both looked away.

"So, Hermione, what have you been doing with yourself?" George asked, leaning forward and looking directly at the brunette witch.

"Ah, well…" she started. "As you all know, I decided to stay in Australia with my parents after I'd found them and restored their memories. I ended up going to Muggle university and now I'm in graduate school working toward my doctorate."

That last bit was largely incomprehensible to Ron, and he could tell from the blank stares the rest of his family was giving Hermione that they felt the same. She must have noticed because she chuckled a bit.

"Basically it means that I will eventually become a professor at a Muggle university. My field is literature," she explained.

"Interesting," Arthur said. He sounded like he genuinely meant it.

"What about all of you?" Hermione asked. Ron knew she was trying to deflect some of the attention away from herself.

"Molly and I have some orchards and vineyards in Sicily," Arthur supplied, smiling radiantly at his wife, who returned the gesture. Hermione raised her eyebrows at this revelation. "We felt that, with all the kids grown and gone, we needed to branch out of Britain. This opportunity more or less fell into our laps, so we sold our land here and moved to Sicily."

"That sounds wonderful," Hermione said. "No wonder you're both looking so tan and healthy!"

Molly laughed. "Yes, the climate there is a revelation compared to Britain."

"I'm a chaser for the Holyhead Harpies," Ginny said, tossing her long, red hair over one shoulder. "Have been for a fair few years now."

"Fantastic," Hermione said.

"I'm still the owner and operator of Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes, though our, er, operations have expanded a bit from what you may remember."

"You'll have to tell me about it sometime," she told George.

"I still work for the Ministry," Percy said. "Though I like to think I'm less of an arrogant prick than I was," he told her, with a small smile. Ron couldn't help but laugh at his older brother's words. Even Molly and Arthur were smiling.

"Sorry Perce, but I don't think that can be helped," Ron told him. Percy just shrugged lightly.

"I still work at the preserve in Romania," Charlie said. He made eye contact with Ron; though Ron could sense a question there-is this how you imagined it would go?-he ignored it for now.

"And I work with Charlie now," Ron said. "We're actually only here for the day. We have to return to the preserve tomorrow."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I'm only here for today as well. I'm teaching so I can't really miss too many of my classes."

"But I thought you said you were still in school?" Percy asked.

"I am. But I need to practice teaching, if you will, before I can become a real professor somewhere. Plus it's a boon to the university, since they pay a pittance to graduate students."

"Is there a large magical community in Sydney?" George asked. Ron could tell he was thinking in terms of business-how he could he exploit the market in Sydney.

To everyone's surprise, though, Hermione shrugged. She looked a little uncomfortable. Her eyes darted around the hall again as they waited for her to respond.

"I wouldn't know, really," she eventually answered. "I've read about a commercial area that's similar to Diagon Alley, but I've never been there myself."

"Why not?" Ron asked. Hermione made eye contact with him again, but they could only hold each other's gaze for a few seconds. There was too much going unsaid at the moment for it to be any longer.

"I went to Muggle university, I live in a Muggle area, my parents are Muggles and are practicing dentistry still, I'm studying to become a Muggle professor…" she trailed off.

"So what you're saying is you left the magical world behind," Charlie said. There was a certain callous tone to his voice that Ron warned off with his eyes. Now was the not the time for Charlie to be surly.

Hermione grimaced. "Something like that."

"Why?" Ginny wondered.

"I still do magic occasionally and I have my wand on me right now," she answered. "My daily life, however, is quite removed from magic, so I have very little reason to seek other magic users out in Australia. It's just not a part of who I am there."

"But it is a part of who you are, dear," Molly put in, softly. "You can't make your magic just go away."

The awkwardness was building. Ron could feel it, like a living and breathing thing between all of them. Perhaps the initial surprise at seeing her after so long was wearing off, and now they were all wondering why it had been more than eight years.

"I know," Hermione said, sounding frustrated. He thought she might be beginning to regret coming here at all. But then the anxiety in her eyes closed down and Ron knew she'd come to a decision.

"It was great seeing you all, and thank you for inviting me to your table, but think I'm going to find myself a drink and try to catch up with some other old friends too," she told them, standing from her seat.

No one said anything, bewildered by this sudden change. Well, all of them except Ron were bewildered. He actually wasn't too surprised that she didn't feel like dealing with his family's questions right now.

She turned and walked away before anyone could say anything. Some loaded looks passed between the Weasleys.

"If you'll excuse me," he told his family, standing as well and not waiting for their response before starting after Hermione.

This was the first time he'd seen her in a nearly decade and he would not let her escape without them at least talking through some things. He didn't really want to wait another decade for a second opportunity.

She had stopped by the table where they were serving champagne. She picked up a glass by the stem and sipped it, turning back toward him. He met her eyes over the glass.

"Sorry about that," Ron said, grabbing a glass for himself. "You can't blame them for their curiosity…"

She nodded, swallowing. "I know." She paused, sipping again. Her eyes roamed the hall. "I don't exactly know how to answer those questions, though, at least for them."

"What about for me?"

She met his eyes and held it this time. A thousand memories and a million words passed between them in those few seconds. There was no awkwardness, just a faint hint of regret over, and acknowledgement of, the gulf of time that separated this day and their last meeting.

And Ron knew in that instant that they really were different people. They no longer had the aftermath of a bloody war hanging over their heads. They no longer had other people's expectations to live up to. They no longer felt obligated to remain up-to-date on the daily occurrences of their once-close friends. Eight and a half years was truly a long time, if one really thought about it; it was a year and a half longer than a typical magical education; it was nearly half of their lives when he, Harry, and Hermione had gone their separate ways.

"You knew my reasons then, Ron," she eventually replied. "And they haven't really changed."

Ron nodded. "I thought you might say that."

Her eyes returned to him and he watched as one eyebrow crept up her forehead. She was scrutinizing him now. He waited for whatever it was she was observing.

"The years seem to have treated you well," she said. Her gaze swept up and down his body.

He smirked at her. "Thanks. You're not too bad yourself."

She rolled her eyes. "There's some of the Ron I remember," she told him, though she was smiling now. "Was that supposed to be a compliment?"

Instead of rising to the bait, Ron said, "You know, this is easier than I imagined it would be."

Hermione sipped her champagne again, then turning toward him fully. Ron saw that even the straight set of her shoulders had relaxed a tiny amount since he'd last seen her. Truthfully, she looked healthy and happy and put together. There was that faint twinge of regret in his heart again, but it passed as quickly as it had come. He and Hermione were never meant to be together; it had been an incredibly painful realization at the time, but now those were feelings like a mostly-faded dream.

"I was thinking the same thing," she told him. "But I suppose that the years do change us."

"S'pose you're right," he muttered, having been swept up in the memories. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Looking back, though, it was probably foolish to expect us all to remain close friends forever."

"Alright, where is Ron Weasley and what have you done with him?" she asked. He smiled at her. "I'm serious. The Ron Weasley I remember would have never said something like that."

"Hermione, you just said, in your own words, the years do change us. I am not an exception to that rule."

"Working with Charlie at the preserve has been good for you then?" she wondered.

He nodded. "Absolutely. Couldn't ask for much more, really."

"That's good to hear," she said, quietly. "Honestly, though, I always imagined you going out for Quidditch or entering the Auror corps."

He laughed outright at that. "The Auror corps? You need to have finished your NEWTs for that, something we both know I never did. Did you?"

She shook her head. "Never seemed necessary."

"Exactly. And as far as Quidditch was concerned, I may have been a decent Keeper, but I was never good enough to play professionally."

"I see," she mused. "So dragons, huh? Reminds me of Norbert…"

"Wow, Norbert? That was, what, first year? Merlin, that was so long ago."

"Yes, it was."

"But the preserve actually isn't for only dragons anymore. Other magical creatures have moved into the area of late."

"Oh? Interesting," she replied. He wondered if she truly meant it. He couldn't tell from the tone of her voice.

"Yes, and-" he began to say something else, but he cut himself off. He was facing the entrance to the Great Hall where Minerva's casket was, and someone very familiar had just stepped into view.

Hermione noticed that his attention had shifted and turned to look, too.

There was their other old friend, Harry Potter, looking into Minerva's coffin at the late Headmistress. There was a young, brown-haired boy standing by his side that could only be Teddy Lupin. Hermione and Ron glanced at each other for a moment, but soon their eyes returned to Harry and Teddy.

Harry turned away from the casket after another minute and guided Teddy into the Great Hall. The boy was staring up at the ceiling in wonder, reminding Ron strongly of many first years' reactions the night of their sorting.

Harry's eyes swept the hall, zeroing in on Hermione and Ron in a matter of seconds. He adjusted his course and headed for them, saying something to Teddy and motioning toward the table of food on the opposite side of the hall. Teddy nodded and split off from Harry.

"I thought I might see you both here."

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