“This is your place?” Ron asked.

 

“Yes,” Hermione replied, shutting the door behind her. She flicked on a light switch. The apartment was small, and it was crammed with books of all kinds.

 

“It’s…” Hermione half expected him to make a snarky comment. She almost wished he would. Give her some sense of the normalcy she’d lost forever. “well, it reminds me of you.”

 

“Why?”

 

“The books, of course. I knew that wherever you were, you’d have books of some kind. They couldn’t take that away from you.”

 

She smiled at him. “Thank you Ron.”

 

Ron shook his head. “You have no idea how nice it is to hear my name again. My real name.”

 

She nodded. “I know.”

 

“I missed you, Hermione.”

 

She closed her eyes. “Ron, as nice as it is, what are you doing here?”

 

“I told, you. I was looking for you.”

 

“Why? We’re supposed to be hiding. No one is supposed to know where we are…”

 

“Oh bugger that. Do you I think I’m going to give you up to Voldemort? I’d sooner eat a Muggle gun.”

 

“Ron…”

 

“I had to find you, Hermione.”

 

“Why?”

 

He looked at her, gazing into her eyes. “Because I loved you. I love you now. I always have. And life without you, it just wasn’t worth anything. You are all I’ve got left in this world. I don’t know where my parents are. My brothers are dead. My best mate is dead. My whole world as I knew is dead. All I had, was the slim hope, the slightest chance that somehow, I would find you.” He said this all as he strode towards her, looking directly into her eyes. “You were the thread that held me together these last few months. The thought of finding you. So I could tell you that I love you.”

 

Hermione closed her eyes and allowed a solitary tear to escape, in the moment before his lips captured hers. His hands wrapped around her, and she put her arms around his neck and was lost in the sweatness of his kiss. They finally broke for air.

 

“Hermione,” he breathed. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too Ron. Everything you said, its exactly what I’ve been feeling. Trying to get through the day, go to class. Every night before I fell asleep, I would pray that somehow, someday, we’d be together again.” She hesiated, and her mouth moved, as if to say something else, but it was lost in emotion.

 

“We’re here now,” he said.

 

“I know.”

 

He brushed her hair. “Is that Muggle hair color, or is it a glamour?”

 

She broke away and opened a cubbored over her sink. She drew out her wand, and pointed it at herself. “Finete Incantem,” she said sofly, and her brown, bushy hair was back, her eye color back. She pointed her wand at Ron. “Finete Incantem.”

 

Ron felt the spell disappear off him as Hermione closed the distance between them. She put her hands in her hair. “I missed this,” she said, toying with. “Red hair has haunted my dreams.”

 

He nodded slowly, and leaned down. Again their lips met, eargerly, hungrily. When Ron came up for air again, he found that he had pushed Hermione against the wall of her flat. “Hermione, I think…”

 

She put a finger on his lips. “Shhhh. Now’s not the time for words love,” she said, kissing him again. They moved into the darkness of her bedroom, as the clothes they had on began to disappear. Ron remembered the last time, their first time, an awkward, yet satisfying time just before all hell broke loose. The time when he realized he loved her. There was no awkwardness this time, as they fell onto her bed, wrapped in each others arms.

 

Hermione paused. “Ron, there’s something…” she stammered. He put a finger to her lips.

 

“Shh. Didn’t you just tell me now’s not the time for words,” he smiled at her in the darkness. She smiled back and nodded.

 

And there, in the darkness, they were together again.

-- -- -- --

 

Thousands of miles away, in on a dark street, a walked two men. The younger one acknowledged the older one as they past with a courteous nod of the head, when suddenly the older one seized up straight. The younger man turned, and heard with bizarre fascination as the old man began to speak.

 

“The one who will be Savior now comes, born of two sides of a broken Triangle. We shall come to find our salvation from across the sea. Two will have become three again, and the Ones who remain will bring forth the savior of all.”

 

The younger man caught the frail old man before he hit the ground, stuttering and stumbling. The old man sputtered for a few moments in his native tongue, probably an apology young man thought, before going on his way.

 

Leaving Remus Lupin totally stunned on the Moscow sidewalk. The man had had a prophecy! To him. About what? The savior comes…from across the sea. Remus’s eyes widened. Two legs of a broken triangle…that wasn’t possible, was it? They’d been sent to different places, for their own safety. But the prophecy he’d just been given…it must mean…He glances around the cold street. There was no one in sight, the old man had suffled off around the corner. Remus ducked into an alley and prepared to apperate to the secret refugee village, hidden in the woods outside the city. Someone needed to tell Arthur and Molly that they were going to be grandparents.

 

-- -- -- --

 

Ron woke up the next morning, and Hermione was no longer with him. He cocked an ear and heard her humming to herself in the living area. He stumbled out of bed in the direction of what he hoped was the loo, tripping over something on the way. His fuzzy head began to clear as he availed himself of the facilities, and splashed some water on his face. He was a little shocked to see his own reflection staring back at him, rather than the face of the stranger he’d become accustomed to this past year. Has it really been a year? he thought. It seems like such a short time ago. He came back out of the loo.

 

And tripped again. Cursing he stood, and suddenly he blinked in surprise.

 

He’d tripped over a crib. Complete with mobile, blankets and stuffed toys. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around the bedroom and spied a changing table, with nappies and powered and all.

 

“Hermione?” he called, blinking.

 

“Out here, Ron.”

 

Ron came out of the bedroom and found Hermione sitting on her couch, nursing a baby. A baby with unmistakable red hair.

 

“Hermione?” Ron asked in wonder. “Is that…?”

 

Hermione looked at him with worried eyes. “Ron, I didn’t know how to tell you last night. I…I…should have, but, I didn’t know how.” She sighed. “I discovered just after they put me here. And I didn’t know how to reach you. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know if we would ever see each other again.”

 

“So that’s…?”

 

Hermione nodded. “Your daughter. Our daughter.”

 

Ron sank down on the couch next to Hermione, and looked down at the baby. “Why did they do this to us? Dividing us up like this…Oh God, Hermione, you’ve had to do this all alone….” He paused. “May I?” he asked, holding out his arms.

 

She smiled at him. “Of course.” The baby had finished her meal, and Hermione carfully, handed the baby over. He cradled her in his arms, and gazed down on her brown eyes, and red hair.

 

“Hi,” he said, “I’m your dad.” He reached his finger down toward the baby, and she blinked at him, and wapped its hand around his finger. His heart melted. He couldn’t believe this. He and Hermione, they had a baby. They could be a family. “What did you…what did you name her?”

 

“Harriet,” Hermione said. “Harriet Minerva.”

 

“Harriet?” Ron asked. “After Harry, then?”

 

“Yes, and Professor McGonagall. It just came to me,” she shrugged. She looked at him. “You’re not upset at me?”

 

“Upset? Why on earth would I be upset with you?” Ron asked, aghast. “I’m…I’m…thrilled. We’re…We’re a…a…family!” he exclaimed. “We can be a family.”

 

Hermione looked at him, with tears in her eyes. “You mean that Ron? You’re really not upset with me?”

 

“No, Hermione, I’m not.” He leaned over and kissed her. “I couldn’t be happier.” He paused. “Where was she last night?” he asked.

 

“Oh,” Hermione replied. “She was at Mrs. Nelson’s for the evening. I pay her to keep an eye on her, occasionally, when I’m working, or studying. She’s very nice.” She loked at him. “Ron, you’re really okay with this? You’re not upset that you’re a dad?”

 

“Hermione, honestly, this is the most exciting day of my life,” he replied. “My only regret is that I couldn’t have been her from the beginning.” He smiled at her, a happy tear sneaking out. “How old is she?” he asked. “Three months or so?”

Hermoine nodded. “She’ll be three months old in a week,” she said. “Ron,” she touched his arm. “There are things you should know.”

 

“You mean, besides the fact that I’m a dad now?”

 

She smiled. “Besides that, of course.” She rose and walked toward her kitchen. “I’m taking classes here at the Universtiy, part time. I’ve got a job. I had some papers made up so that I’ve got a history and records. I’ve made myself a real life.”

 

“Is there someone else?” Ron asked, his heart in a vice.

 

“What?” she turned and looked at him. “No Ron, of course not!” She gave a little laugh, then turned serious again. “But I did have to tell my friends something about where Harriet came from,” she sighed.

 

“What did you say?” Ron asked.

 

“I told them that her father was listed as missing in action in the military, and that I’d come here to start a new life, away from all the bad memories.”

 

He nodded. “So, I got found,” he shrugged. “We can work something out, as far as your friends go.”

 

She shrugged her shoulders in agreement, “I guess. Questions will rise.”

 

“I want to marry you, Hermione. My child needs her father.”

 

“Well, that’s part of it Ron,” she said. “I told them that we’d been married.”

 

“You made yourself out as a widow?” Ron asked.

 

“I might as well have been,” she said. “I felt like one.”

 

“So…we’re already married?” he asked.

 

“In theory.” She replied. She sat down next to him. “But I want to make it real,” she replied. “I do. I want to be a family with you.”

 

“What name are you using?” he asked.

 

Hermione turned away, “Heather.”

 

“Heather what?”

 

“Heather Weasley.”

 

Ron gave a little laughed. “Well, I was Reggie Granger.”

 

“You were?”

 

“I was. But I’m going to drop that. I’ll just be Ron, from here on out. Ron Weasley.”

 

“You’re sure? But what if…?”

 

“Hermione,” he said. “We’re here in the United States, in the middle of nowhere. No one is going to report us to the Dark Lord. Everyone here is getting ready to fight him when he finally decides to try is luck on this side of the Atlantic. Even if someone figured out who we were, we could probably get protection.”

 

“So, I suppose you want me to adopt my old name again,” she said.

 

Ron sighed. “I’d prefer it, because I probably won’t be able to get used to calling you Heather.”

 

Just then there was a pounding on the door. “Heather! Are you there? You missed class this morning!”

 

“It’s Allen,” Heather hissed. “He’s one of my friends, we have calculus at 8 am.” She turned toward the door. “Coming Allen.”

 

She opened the door, and Allen, a round looking man with unkempt long curly hair came in.

 

“Are you all right?” he asked. “Not feeling well? Or is it Harriet?”

 

“No, Allen, I’m fine, Harriet’s fine,” Hermione paused. “Allen…I…”

 

Allen had spotted Ron. “And who is this, Heather?”

 

Ron held Harriet protectively, and bristled a little. Who did this guy think he was, knocking on Hermione’s doorstep at this hour of the morning?

 

“Allen, I didn’t come to class this morning, because well…Allen, this is Ron.”

 

Allen gave a little start. “You don’t mean?”

 

Hermione bit her lip and nodded eagerly.

 

“Oh Heather!” He gave her a hug. “This is so exciting!” He came over to Ron, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, finally! Heather always talked about you. How ever did you find her?”

 

“A lot of looking,” Ron said, shrugging a little. “The military helped a little,” he said, picking up on the story and running with it. “They didn’t tell me I was a dad though, I just found out.” He stood. “I’d shake your hand, but…”

 

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Allen replied. “I understand. Oh this is so exciting! Heather, I’m so happy for you! I’ll tell Professor Wieckert why you missed class. I’ll let everyone else know. Oh, they’re going to be so excited. You should have a party, and introduce everyone. So, exciting. You’ve got your husband back. You’ll have to tell us all about how you got away,” Allen said, addressing Ron. “I’ll let you be now, I’m sure you’ve got lots to catch up on. Lots and lots!” He headed for the door. “I’m so happy for you, Heather,” he gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Be sure to let us all know how this happy occasion came about,” he swept out the door. “See you later!”

 

Hermione shut the door behind him as he went out. Ron wrinkled his noise. “Who was that?”

 

“That was Allen,” she replied. “He’s a good friend.”

 

“I don’t like him. He kissed you. He probably fancies you.”

 

“Ron,” she laughed, “You’re so cute when you’re jealous.”

 

“He’s a git. Coming over here at this hour of the morning.”

 

“Ron, stop.” Hermione laughed. “Allen is a very good friend, and he doesn’t fancy me.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes Ron, I am.”

 

“How?”

 

“Ron, he’s gay.”

 

“What?”

 

“Gay? You know, fancies men? I bet he tells me later how cute he thinks you are. I might even be inclided to agree with him.”

 

Ron felt his face turning a little hot. “Oh.” He looked down at Harriet. “Lesson number one, daughter of mine. You’re dad can be a git when he’s jealous.”

 

Hermione laughed. “Well, that much is true.”

 

Just then, Harriett began to fuss a little, and Ron instinctively began to rock her gently.

 

“Why Ron,” Hermione exclaimed, “You have parenting instincts!”

 

“I do have a few surprises left in me,” Ron said, “And you’ve got the rest of your life to figure them out, don’t you?”

 

Hermione smiled at him, putting her arms around his neck, and taking care to give Harriet space. “Yes, yes I do.”

 

-- -- -- --

 

“That was fun,” Ron sighed, sinking onto the couch, after their last guest had left. Hermione had taken Allen’s advice and invited over a few friends to introduce them to Ron. Ron was hardly surprised when he discovered that the guest list had included a few professors. Ron had been subjected to more interrogation than he could remember, but he’d hammered out a reasonable, workable story.

 

He’d determined that he’d been captured in the line of duty, on a mission that he couldn’t talk about because of it’s classification. He’d been freed as part of a prisoner exchange. And the military had helped him track down his wife. Hermione had admitted that she’d taken Heather as a new name when she thought Hermione had sounded a little archaic in the United States.

 

“Which do you prefer to be called?” the man named Professor Desjardens had asked. Ron thought he remembered that Desjardens taught Chemistry.

 

“Whatever is easiest for you,” Hermione had told him. “Ron only knows me as Hermione, but if you want to continue to call me Heather, that’s fine with me.”

 

“Oh, I think Hermione is a lovely name,” Allen had said. “It fits you so well. So very British.”

 

As for the question of what they were going to do now, they’d been a little vauge. Ron mentioned that he’d been discharged, and they had no immediate plans to return, at least until after the school year was over.

 

“I agree,” Hermione said. She was pacing the floor with Harriet, giving the baby her evening meal.

 

“You’ve made some nice friends.”

 

“Allen told me he thinks you’re cute,” Hermione smiled at him. “I told him to keep his hands to himself.”

 

“Good,” Ron shuddered a little.

 

“So what should we do now?” Hermione asked.

 

“Well,” Ron replied. “We should work on getting me some documentation, so I can get a job, or enroll in some classes. Right? I mean, we’ll need a real income if we want to buy a house.”

 

“A house?”

 

“Of course a house,” Ron said. “Children grow up in houses, not flats. A house, with a yard.”

 

Hermione smiled at him. “Oh, Ron.” She set Harriet in her crib, and embraced him tightly. “I love you.”

 

“I love you too, Hermione.” They kissed warmly. “So, what’s on your agenda for tommorow?” he asked.

 

“Well, I have American History class at 10, and English Literature at 1. And then I meet my history tutor at 3.”

 

“History tutor?” Ron asked. “You? You needed a tutor?”

 

Hermione glared at him. “Ron, I’ve never learned anything about American History. There’s so much I don’t know. So Allen helped me find a tutor. It’s one of his fraternity brothers.”

 

“Fraternity brothers?” Ron wrinkled his nose.

 

Hermione laughed. “Yes, that was my reaction as well. I told him that I wasn’t interested in being set up, and Allen just laughed. It turns out that the guy Allen had in mind was engaged, and hopelessly devoted to his fiancée. He’s a great teacher, and he and his fiancée are so cute. I’ve never once felt uncomfortable around him. And he’s one of Professor Merchant’s favorite students, so I’m learned exactly what Professor Merchant wants. I’ve had them over for dinner a few times.”

 

Ron nodded. “Can I meet him?”

 

“Sure, you can come by with me,” she said. “In fact, you could probably come to class with me to all my classes, if you like.”

 

“Well, I was wondering how I go about getting some documentation? How did you do it?”

 

“When they shipped me over, I had a contact with the American Department of Magic. Did you not have a contact?” Ron shook his head. Hermione pursed her lips. “I have a way to reach my contact, but it could take some time. We’ll get that process started. In the meantime, I guess you’ll just be spending time learning the finer points of child care.”

 

Harriet began to fuss.

 

“Starting now,” Hermione laughed. “Ever changed a nappy before?”

 

“Uhhh…” Ron said nervously. “No?”

 

“Time to learn, dad.”

 

-- -- -- --

 

Ron was playing with Harriet when Hermione got home from class the next day. “Hey honey,” Hermione said, setting her bag down by the couch and sitting down on the floor. “How was your day?”

 

“It was fine,” Ron said. “Wasn’t it, little girl? We had a good time today, didn’t we?” he tickeled Harriet’s tummy and she giggled. “How was class?”

 

“It was fine. I enjoy chemistry. And my meeting with Bernie went all right. He got off on a tangent about the American Civil War. Military history is his passion. He wants to meet you.”

 

“Me? Why me?”

 

“Because you’re a soilder, silly. He thinks you’re some kind of special forces trooper.”

 

“Oh,” Ron said. “But I’m not. How am I supposed to pass myself off as one?”

 

“Ron, I’m sure we can make up something,” she said, exasperated.

 

He sighed. “You’re right of course.” He shifted Harriet up onto his shoulder and wrapped his free hand around Hermione’s waist. “I’m sorry. I’m just anxious about this whole thing.” He kissed the top of her head. She sighed and leaned into him.

 

“I know.” For a moment, it was silent except for Harriet’s occasional gurgling.

 

“This is nice,” Ron finally said. “Here together, the three of us. Family.”

 

“It is,” Hermione agreed. “Ron, let’s get married.”

 

“Now?” Ron blinked. “How?”

 

“We can go up to Maryland. It’s only about a three hour drive. There are places where you can elope up there. No one here has to know we weren’t already married. No one up there will know.”

 

“What about Harriet?” Ron asked.

 

Hermione paused. “Well, I could call Bernie and see if he and Sara would take her, if they’re in town. They’ve baby sat before, and they love doing it. I don’t see why they would mind doing it for an overnight.”

 

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