DISCLAIMER: Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and all Harry Potter characters are property of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. Thanks, Jo for being an author who allows people like me to have fun exploring the different paths your characters could travel down.

6 June 98

It's only been seven days. Seven days of being home. Seven days remembering everything he loved about the Burrow in summertime. Seven days without Hermione.

He passes his days much like he'd passed most summer days. Except he could hardly recall a time of his life when he'd been so carefree. He, Harry and Ginny go for a fly every day. They play Quidditch in the orchard. He works with his dad in the garage. He's even learning to help his mum in the kitchen.

And he writes to Hermione.

He writes to her more than he can remember writing to her in the last seven years combined. They're simple letters mostly. He tells her about his day, how his mum is getting along and how Harry's interview with Kingsley went. He tries to keep them light. He doesn't tell her about the time his mum randomly started crying while cutting up carrots or how his dad went to visit Fred's grave every morning.

He'd sent Hermes out three days ago with a letter after both Pig and Erroll had failed to make the return trip from Henley. Still he continued to write her every day, each day hoping one of the owls would appear with a reply. For nearly an entire year he'd grown used to having her beside him every day. She was there tending the fire when he woke up and the last thing his eyes usually rested on before bed. They'd shared a bed, had shared everything together retrieving her parents in Australia, but now they're home. He knows she has to let her family heal. So he just continues to write her and wait patiently for a letter, his heart jumping every time he hears a rap on the window or green flames appear in the fireplace.

They all come at once. There are seven total. One for every day they've been apart. He tears open the most recent one, ignoring Hermes who just clucks his beak and sails out the window in a huff.

Dear Ron,

His heart swoops just seeing her neat handwriting on the page

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to send these out. Sometimes I do wish owl post was faster. I'm keeping Pig at my house. How fast did you tell him to fly? It's been nearly six days and he can barely even get up to go hunt. Erroll needed a day to recover as well so I sent Hermes back as he's the only one who seemed capable of making the trip. Maybe we could start using Muggle post in addition to owls. I wanted to know if it would be okay to come and visit this weekend, but I suppose by the time you get this it will already be the weekend. I'll come round Sunday and if you're not at home I'll come back.

Ron grins as he read over the line. Sunday. Collapsing back onto his bed, he searches for the earliest letter and begins to read from the start.

He'd see her Sunday.

7 June 98

He feels like it's been months since he's seen her and he desperately hopes when she arrives that afternoon that his entire family will be miraculously absent. While he's written to her and he's read over her seven letters about a hundred times now, it feels strange not to have had a conversation with her in a week. He misses talking to her and has a hard time believing he used to go weeks in the summer without seeing her. He thinks about last summer and cringes at how callous he'd been to all she was going through when she'd been preparing all last summer to say goodbye to her parents. Now she's trying to figure out how to bring them back into her life and he wants to know how it's going. Her letters have revealed nothing except how much she misses him and what she has done with her days.

He's antsy awaiting her arrival and kills times throwing a Quaffle around with George. The closer it draws to five o'clock the more of his family he knows will trickle in for Sunday dinner. Percy arrives first. Then Bill and Fleur.

When her soft pop sounds in the drive, his whole family is already gathered out in the garden.

"Oh! Hermione!" His mum races over and embraces her before Ron even can. "Ron told us you were coming. It's so wonderful to see you! How are you? How are your mum and dad? Did you tell them I want them over for dinner?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley."

She utters the phrase countless times while they have tea out in the garden with his entire family. He's impatient. She only has three hours to spend before returning to Henley. When he proposes a walk, Ginny and Harry join them. When he suggests going upstairs, Charlie arrives. At the end of the day they have twenty-seven glorious minutes to themselves, but they make the most of each minute.

11 June 98

The more dependent on it he gets, the more frustrated he gets with owl post. No matter how fast Pig flies, and he knows the little owl tries, he still goes days without hearing from her. It's over one-hundred thirty miles to Henley and while Pig can make it in a day, he needs at least a day to recover before bringing back her reply. It leads to frustrating and halted conversation that is disjointed and unfinished. He wishes he could Apparate straight to Henley to see her, but, despite having done so on a regular basis the last year, he still cannot officially do so without a license. He's upstairs in his room writing her when his mum hollers to him that she is at the door. He thinks she's having a laugh, teasing him as his family tends to do about how desperately he runs to check the mail every day. Then he hears her voice.

Thundering down the stairs, parchment still in hand, he finds her standing by the back door exchanging pleasantries with his mum.

"What're you doing here?" he inquires breathlessly.

"I just...thought I'd see if you were in," she replies simply.

"I was just writing you," he smiles sheepishly, holding up the half-finished letter. His mum beams for some reason at the comment and excuses herself in an obvious attempt to give them privacy.

Hermione tells him she only has a few hours while her parents are out so they take a simple walk around the orchard. They go and visit Fred and she squeezes his hand as he tells her how George and his dad still come out to visit every day. They finally settle beneath an apple tree. When he asks if her parents know she's here, she gets a shameful look on her face.

"I told them I might go out. I think they knew I meant here."

"How are things?" He knows it's a loaded question and when she just sighs and collapses further, he feels silly for asking.

"I just told them about Apparition this morning. It's the first I ever….I think it scared them."

"Apparition?"

"The fact that I can just...leave whenever I want." She looks up at him. "Come see you."

"Pretty soon I'll get to come see you," he offers a smile. "Soon as I get my license."

"It seems so ridiculous." Ron's not sure if she's talking about the fact that he's still not allowed to Apparate legally or the fact that she clearly feels guilty coming to see him.

"It's all just an...adjustment," he mumbles. "That's all." She leans back against his chest and he closes his eyes at the intimacy he misses each morning he wakes up without her. He wraps both arms around her tighter and kisses her neck through the waves of her hair. He hears her sigh and then she utters the words they both are feeling.

"I miss you."

14 June 98

The memory of their brief time together out in the orchard keeps him going until Saturday, when she says she'll come over for dinner. While he's excited that she'll be here, he dreads the thought of having to share her with his family like the last time. He misses just being able to talk to her. It's been a strange two weeks back home. He spends lots of time with George, but it pains him how much looking at his own brother can fill him with sadness. He wonders if George even looks in the mirror anymore.

Though he knows Harry and Ginny are eager to see Hermione as well, he's determined to have at least some time alone with her like they did under the apple tree. He's made plans, most of which involve concealment charms, his brother's tent, and Harry's invisibility cloak. Harry had even begrudgingly agreed to help distract his family to help. Ron has things planned down to the minute.

But much like every plan they'd ever made, his quickly fall through the moment Errol arrives with the letter. It's addressed to him and, even though he can see the Minister of Magic's personal seal on it, he quickly casts it aside. He knows what it was going to be about. Harry's second interview with Kingsley this week was all his family could talk about and Harry had told him Kingsley wanted him too.

The letter is oddly formal considering that Ron has known Kingsley for the better part of three years. He addresses Ron in the letter as Mr. Weasley and discusses in a detached and textbook style all the qualities that would make him an outstanding addition to the Auror department. Ron isn't sure who is more proud, Hermione or his mum. Both are beaming at him as they read it over a fifth and sixth time. Either way, it means much of Hermione's visit is spent focusing on the letter and discussing his future and not out in the orchard alone with her like he had planned.

By the time he kisses her goodbye, she's spent most of what little time they did have alone talking about what a tremendous opportunity this is for his future. It's not that he's not flattered by the letter, but he's not sure being an Auror is what he wants. He isn't sure how to convey that she is the only thing in his future he is confident he wanted.

16 June 98

She visits again on a Tuesday. It's as much of a surprise as the last time. He doesn't ask this time if her parents know she is visiting him. They walk into the village for no reason than to have a place to go together. He forgets how much he's missed holding her hand. She takes him to the Muggle post office in Ottery St Catchpole and shows him how to send a proper letter and then it's time to return to the Burrow so she can go home.

She asks about the invitation from Kingsley. He knew it was inevitable and when he sighs that he doesn't know what he wants to do, he can anticipate her reply.

"It's a great - "

"Opportunity, I know," he sighs. "I mean, it'd be nice to have something to do, I guess. It gets kind of boring at home."

"I know." The look on her face tells him she knows exactly what he means.

"And I do want to catch them. You know Rookwood is still out there?" His face tightens and he knows she sees it. "I dreamed about it last night," Ron confesses what he hasn't dared to in his letters. "I think all this talk about hunting them and Death Eaters..." His voice drifts and he shakes his head at the awful dream. "What about you?"

Her lips purse and she gives a shrug that is much too careless.

"I'm all right."

"Yeah?" He knows she can hear the doubt in his voice.

"I miss you," she admits softly. He knows the admission means much more than just missing his gentle touches and kisses. It's the closest she's come since they've been back to admitting she still has trouble sleeping and he hates the confirmation of what he already suspected to be true.

"Me too." Thinking about her alone in her bed, trembling and calling for him wrenches his stomach, especially when he remembers their last night in Perth and how peacefully they'd both slept.

"I can always fly in through the window," he tries for some levity. "And you can always cuddle Crookshanks," he offers with a grin. The smile is slow to form on her face, but she smiles back.

"Right."

He hugs her to his chest as they approach the two-track lane to the Burrow. Navigating life apart is more difficult then he'd imagined, but he's confident of one thing.

"We'll figure it out."

19 June 98

His heart is in his throat the entire walk to the Granger house. He clutches the bottle of red wine his mum told him to bring in his hand and wipes his hands on his pants every few steps to avoid getting the bottle all sweaty. This will be the first time he's seen the Grangers since they all left Australia together nearly a month ago.

He wonders how the family is doing. Hermione's letters, much like his, only seem to focus on positive things, the laugh she shared with her father while unpacking, the movie she went to with her mum.

He wonders how she really is. Her revelation on the walk into the village earlier this week was the closest she'd come to revealing anything. Harry has been a great help to him and seems to always detect the nights he sleeps poorly. Hermione, he knows, has nobody and it worries him that she hasn't written about it at all in her letters. That combined with the fact that she's instructed him not to mention magic too much makes him think her parents are still having a hard time adjusting.

Summoning all his Gryffindor courage, he knocks on the door, hoping it will be Hermione who answers, but it's her father.

He offers Ron a firm handshake and a warm smile, which Ron is grateful for, though he's not sure when to let go of his hand. Hermione and her mum are apparently still in the kitchen working on dinner. Mr. Granger's offer of a drink defuses the tension slightly, but Ron stammers over his reply, unsure whether to say yes or no.

When Hermione finally enters with her mum and a plate full of starters, he's not sure what to do then either. He wants to embrace her and tell her how much he misses her, but he stays rooted to the sofa cushion and just offers a smile. It's Hermione who sits down next to him and kisses him softly on the lips.

Her father says nothing, just looks down at his folded hands.

Her mum tells Ron how good it is to see him and tells him to help himself to the food in front of them. He learns Hermione helped prepare most of it.

"Hermione, showed me this wonderful way to grill the mushrooms," her mum beams. Ron obediently slides one onto a small plate. "Told me she learned it this year, while you were….you know, off and about and what have you." The dismissive way she refers to the last year is buried by the more important fact that Hermione has clearly talked to her parents about this year.

"Yeah." Ron looks at the mushrooms and recalls how she'd experimented all the different ways to prepare them this year. "Cooks them right over the coals, right?"

"With just a little bit of dill." Her mum smiles.

Ron eats a mushroom and smiles back, thinking perhaps this dinner won't be as painful as he imagined.

24 June 98

The party is fun and festive. He knows his mum is eager for the celebration and trying her best to be excited for Ron, even though he can tell she's terrified. It's about the most dangerous profession he could choose and the fact that he's not even going through proper training unnerves her, he knows. Hermione seems unnerved too at how quickly they are thrusting him and Harry into the ranks of the Aurors. But she smiles and celebrates and beams proudly at him alongside his mum.

He does his best to be excited too. He knows it's a tremendous opportunity and he wants to catch Death Eaters, especially Rookwood, but he's not as excited as Harry. Revenge is his major motivation, in fact. He knows Hermione knows it too.

He's unsuccessful trying to steal private moments with her. The ground floor of the Burrow just doesn't have that many nooks and crannies where they can disappear. He wonders how Harry and Ginny manage it. Even when they do find themselves alone, all she wants to do is talk about the job. He understands, communicating by owl posts is frustrating and the delay makes any real conversation limited. Still these precious few minutes outside will be his only chance to feel her lips for at least another week. Beneath the summer moon, he presses her against the walls of the Burrow, hoping for just a few minutes alone before they're inevitably discovered by a family member.

"So do you know what you're going to be doing exactly?" she inquires breathlessly, momentarily breaking apart.

"Helping, I guess. That's all Kingsley said," he tries to dismiss and lean in for another kiss.

"Helping?" Hermione frowns at the vague term that Ron knows doesn't sound like the Minister.

"Assisting the Auror effort to secure all escaped Death Eaters," he clarifies with a bored sigh.

"That sounds dangerous," she clucks, sounding like his mother. He gives her a look that reminds her of all the dangerous things they've done the last seven years. Still she frets over him an unusual amount while he works at her neck. He wonders if there's not a small part of her that wants to join him. She had been invited too, after all and he knows better than anyone that he and Harry aren't nearly as strong as people think they are without her. He's asked her to join him twice already. He knows if he were to ask a third time the answer would be the same.

She has to be with her family. She's helping them rebuild their lives. This weekend they're going to visit cousins and grandparents she hasn't seen in well over a year. He knows she's nervous about it. She's excited because she knows she's supposed to be, but he can tell the thought of nearly a week with entirely non-magical family is stressful. She'll have to share a room and answer questions about the last year she hasn't even invented lies for yet. He's nervous for her. He knows she still doesn't sleep well and though she'll cover her arms, he knows the scars and the bandage she still wears will raise eyebrows.

The noise inside the Burrow, not even his mum's raucous laughter, can hide the uncertainty both have about what looms ahead in the coming days for themselves and each other. A soft breeze causes a chill to run through her and he wraps his arms around her. She follows suit. For a few moments longer, they lose themselves in each other.