Chapter Text
‘tis the damn season
If I wanted to know who you were hanging with
While I was gone I would have asked you
It's the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass
But I felt it when I passed you
There's an ache in you put there by the ache in me
But if it's all the same to you
It's the same to me
~`~
Ron stared at the platform, waiting for the girl of his dreams to come home to him. They had been avoiding one another, using Harry and Ginny to play tag with letters and well wishes. Harry was about ready to throw Ron down onto the train tracks as a train came in, but Ron didn’t care, Harry didn’t understand how he and Hermione had left it.
How they had gone their separate ways in a sense, though both knowing they would come back together in the end.
He missed her, he missed her the moment she got on the train and left him, the moment she said goodbye and kissed him the last time.
Ron felt more than saw Hermione slam into him, her arms wrapping around his neck, her lips soft on his mouth. She was perfect and he couldn’t stop the smile as he put her down and just looked at her. There were bags under her eyes and she kept looking around as if they were still on the run, and he knew that it would take years for that instinct to fade away.
But she was here, standing in front of him with her dark curls flowing around her shoulders and her golden brown eyes both tired and alert. He felt the chill suddenly, taking in Hermione’s thin sweater and jeans, he shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
He didn’t want to let go of her, and that was how he found himself following after her into the underground and onto a train. Their fingers tangled together, Ron didn’t even feel the cold as he held her hand, as he pulled her close and let her rest her head on his shoulder.
The ache of being away, of her not close to him in his arms, the separation was nearly too much. Having her with him, he knew that it didn’t matter, he would follow her anywhere.
He should’ve followed her back to school, but they both knew someone should be keeping an eye on Harry, making sure he wasn’t being stupid and falling off the side of the Earth working himself to death. They knew that at least one of them had to keep an eye on him from now on, Harry had a tendency to get himself into trouble when he was by himself, but Ginny was with him now and would drag him back to the Burrow.
Ron loved Harry as a brother, which was why he could only trust him with family.
The underground train ride went longer than he expected, but after a few minutes, he started talking and it was like no time had passed at all. Hermione started telling him about her classes and all the books she was reading, Ron told her about training and keeping Harry alive and all the books he was also reading.
Ron had never been much of a reader, but he knew all of Hermione’s favorite books, the ones she read during the holidays after she had finished her homework. She loved Austen and Alcott, she loved Christe and Shelly, she loved the Bronte sisters and he was falling in love with all the same stories too.
Reading made him miss her a little less, but he had wanted to tell her all of his favorite parts, talk about the moments that made him laugh or cry or feel close to her.
“I was so happy that Laurie and Amy found each other in France, but then I was crying my eyes out when Beth died,” whispered Ron, squeezing Hermione’s hand and almost feeling the weight of the pages in his hands again, tears streaming down his cheeks again. “It was…it was like losing Fred again.”
“My favorite part is when Jo goes after the professor,” whispered Hermione, her breath warm on his neck as she tilted her head slightly on his shoulder. “She deserved love, and it just seemed so…so romantic to me.”
~`~
So we could call it even
You could call me babe for the weekend
'Tis the damn season, write this down
I'm stayin' at my parents' house
And the road not taken looks real good now
And it always leads to you in my hometown
~`~
Hermione sighed to herself before opening the door to her parent’s house. It had felt like a long time since she had been home, since this house had been her home. The last time she had really been there had been before she found herself on the run, erasing her parents’ memories and sending them away.
But they were home now and she was home now and Ron knew that she was home.
She wanted him to stay, to kiss her and hold her hand, wrap his warm arms around her body and keep her close. She was tired of being away from him, from missing him, from not being able to talk to him. She missed him in a way she couldn’t explain, it wasn’t like how she missed her parents, or even Harry though he was the one that actually wrote her at Hogwarts.
She and Ron had always been close, they had always clicked and knew what to do with each other, but then…then they went to Australia. They went to Australia and had found her parents and in that time things changed.
But she was home now, even for the briefest of moments, she was closer to him physically than she had been in months.
“Mija,” said Javier and Hermione put on a smile and hugged her dad, holding him close before turning to her mum. She missed them, she had missed them for a long time, her parents were her only family and she loved them and wished that she had been more open with them over the years.
“We’ve missed you so much,” said Jane, reaching for Hermione’s face and wiping away the tears she hadn’t realized were falling. Hermione tucked herself in close to her mum, letting her drag her into the kitchen that already smelled good and warm and perfect. Christmas cookies lined the table, neatly organized ready to be packaged and given away to their neighbors.
Last year had been the first year her mum would’ve gone without being part of the cookie exchange.
“I’ve made all the classics and I found this new recipe for you, it’s a mint and double chocolate chip,” said Jane, and Hermione nodded, letting her mum push her down into a seat while her dad made them all tea. “I wanted to make you something special.”
Hermione nodded and closed her eyes as her mum kissed her forehead, wishing that Ron was there to share this moment with her.
~`~
I parked my car right between the Methodist
And the school that used to be ours
The holidays linger like bad perfume
You can run, but only so far
I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave
But if it's okay with you, it's okay with me
~`~
“Go visit her, stop moping around here,” said Harry, knocking Ron’s feet off the couch and sitting down in his usual seat. “You’re being stupid.”
“You don’t get it,” said Ron, he wasn’t in the mood to argue, he also wasn’t in the mood to let Harry lecture him either. Harry barely managed to get himself out of bed and showered most mornings.
“It’s Hermione,” said Harry, as if it was really as simple as he and Ginny had it. “Ron she’s been our best friend since we were eleven, don’t worry so much.”
“I’m not,” grumbled Ron, and Harry rolled his eyes. If anyone was being ridiculous, it was Harry, he just didn’t understand what was going on between him and Hermione, he hadn’t been in Australia with them.
“Well if you’re going to be miserable, then go somewhere where I don’t have to see it,” said Harry, and Ron threw his pillow at him.
~`~
We could call it even
You could call me babe for the weekend
'Tis the damn season, write this down
I'm stayin' at my parents' house
And the road not taken looks real good now
~`~
Hermione opened her eyes, staring up at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom. She felt like a child in this room, with her old books and toys and dolls from before magic was her whole life. There was a magic in her childhood belongings, in the stories her mum read her before she could read herself, in the dolls her father had her Abuela send her from Spain and Cuba.
She rolled over, away from the memories of her childhood before magic had become known to her and stared at the expanse of pale freckly skin in front of her. He had come over while her parents were out shopping, and Hermione had brought him upstairs to her room and put him in her bed.
Not wanting to leave, not wanting to let him go.
She moved her fingertips along his skin, connecting freckles like stars in the night sky, savoring the warmth coming from him. Ron was all fire and heat and passion, he was her home even in her old bedroom, he was hers and she was his.
“Babe,” mumbled Ron, rolling over and taking her hands in both of his, warming her fingers as light came in through the curtains, making their skin glow even in the weak winter sunshine. “You’re so cold.”
Hermione didn’t say anything, she just tucked her head into his shoulder and breathed in the scent of his skin, her own personal sunshine.
He kissed her forehead and Hermione closed her eyes again as he played with her hair. She loved the feel of his fingers on her skin, in her hair, just touching her face and hands, he left fire behind in his touch, a trail of heat that gave her goosebumps a moment later.
She tilted her head up without opening her eyes, feeling his lips press to her own, feeling his tongue slide softly along her bottom lip before he pulled her lip in between his and sucked softly. She felt a shock of heat run down her spine and pool into her stomach, making her ravenous for him and just him.
“I need a moment,” whispered Hermione, taking a deep breath and just looking up at his face, into his blue eyes. She had fallen in love with his eyes years ago, she didn’t even know the moment it happened, but then it had and she always struggled to look away.
He didn’t say anything, just laid back into the bed and pillows and the nest of blankets she always ended up sleeping in. The scars on his arms clear and dark compared to the rest of the skin on his arms and chest and neck.
She had her own scars, as equally horrifying, but now wasn’t the time to think about it.
“Babe?”
“I’m good now.”
~`~
Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires
Now I'm missing your smile, hear me out
We could just ride around
And the road not taken looks real good now
And it always leads to you in my hometown
~`~
Ron didn’t know when Hermione had learned to drive, it could’ve easily had been the few weeks they had spent in Australia, the pair of them listening to the radio and talking and letting the truck grow muddier and dirtier. Now he would do anything to go back to that time, to Hermione’s smile with her sunglasses slipping down her nose, her hair wild and free in the wind as she accelerated faster and faster.
After the war, she just wanted some freedom, they both did after attending funerals and memorials and just spending a year on the run. They both needed the space to just figure out what they wanted without his family around, without Harry right between them, without the fog of the war hovering over them.
Driving now felt different, the roads were slick and wet, the other cars were crawling in front and around them. They were stuck in traffic and the only music on the radio was holiday music.
“What are you thinking of getting Harry for Christmas?” asked Ron, already missing her bed and the pillows that smelled like her shampoo.
“I already got him something,” said Hermione, glaring at the traffic ahead of them, “I found this cookbook that I think would interest him, he told me about some the culinary adventures the two of you have had.”
“Harry has decided to explore more of his Indian roots with Parvati’s recipes,” Ron told her, trying not to shudder at the blacken mush and hard rice Harry had made for them to eat. He was getting better with the rice, adding in the proper mix of water and stock and aromatics. “I’ve taken over cutting up the vegetables and meat so he’ll stop cutting it all to bits.”
“Isn’t that the point of cooking?” asked Hermione and Ron shook his head, unable to stop himself from smiling.
“Not when it cooks down to mush and then burns,” said Ron, and Hermione grimaced as they inched farther into the traffic surrounding them. This was why he didn’t understand the whole driving thing now that he could apparate.
Though he remembered in Australia, the pair of them driving together, their fingers laced together, always something playing on the radio. It had been bright and loud and he missed it now as they sat together but not touching.
“Hopefully when you move in Harry will have his cooking skills together.”
“Yeah,” agreed Hermione, smiling out the window as she reached over and took one of his hands in hers, warm and comforting like he remembered.
~`~
Sleep in half the day just for old times' sake
I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay
So I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends
Who'll write books about me, if I ever make it
And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm fakin'
And the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own
~`~
Hermione opened her eyes, taking in the smell of Christmas cookies and knowing that her mum was baking again. Gingerbread cookies now, her dad’s favorite even if he always said that they would rot his teeth out.
“Mija,” said Javier as Hermione slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She had fallen asleep on the couch again, her book laid abandoned on the floor where it slipped off. She turned to look over at her dad, taking in his dark hair and brown eyes like hers.
He looked tired, like how she felt, and she wished that Ron was beside her, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. He got along well with her parents even if they had nothing in common to talk about, no common experiences, nothing except for Hermione.
It was a warm feeling, but not the feeling she wanted right now. She wanted the real warmth of Ron beside her, she wanted the warmth of his kisses, of his hands hiding in her clothes, of just him. She loved him and it felt strange to be without him, like the few weeks she and Harry were without him.
Back then it felt like he had taken her heart with him, now it felt like that and more.
“Dad,” said Hermione, getting to her feet and walking the few feet over the squish herself into his chair and rest her head on his chest, like when she was a little girl. She laced their fingers together, trying to be close to him. She always missed her dad most when she heard someone speaking in Spanish or heard one of the many songs that he would play for her growing up. The last few months at Hogwarts the wireless had been on all the time in the Gryffindor common room, something that didn’t bother her until the station was changed one day and it was salsa music filling the air. “I’ve missed you.”
“We’ve missed you to mariposa, your mama and I have been reading about you in your newspaper,” said Javier, running his fingers through her hair. “Not even graduated and your already making such a difference.”
Hermione didn’t want to tell him that they were writing about the few ideas she had a few years ago that were finally being heard. She had a direct line to the Minister of Magic, Kingsley was an old friend, someone she respected and who clearly respected her too.
Someone was always going to be writing about her and Harry and Ron, they were the so-called “Golden Trio” of the community now. She had hoped being away at Hogwarts that she would be able to stay out of the limelight, but that wasn’t the case.
It was hard enough being around some of her professors knowing that she had just fought beside them in the battle to end it all.
And even though she had Ginny and Neville and Luna, even the other eighth years, she missed her boys the most. She missed sitting next to Harry in the library, while he stared out the window, or walking the halls with Ron on their prefect rounds talking about everything and nothing.
She missed being around people that truly knew her and loved her despite knowing her as they did.
“Your mama and I are so proud of you Mija, you’re amazing bebita.”
~`~
To leave the warmest bed I've ever known
We could call it even
Even though I'm leavin'
And I'll be yours for the weekend
'Tis the damn season
~`~
Ron groaned and rolled over in his bed, taking in the warm body beside him and tucking his face into Hermione’s neck. His bed wasn’t as comfortable as hers, but that had more to do with the climate charm that he couldn’t quite figure out.
Harry didn’t care, cold or hot, he slept like the dead now that he wasn’t getting visions throughout the night. The nightmares still came, but he wasn’t waking up screaming anymore, and Ron didn’t have to rush to his side to make sure his best friend wasn’t dying.
“I don’t want you to go,” whispered Ron, tightening his arms around her waist and holding her so close to him. She was wearing his new sweater, the maroon looking right against her skin like it never did his. It’s like his mum knew back then that maroon was meant for Hermione and Ron just needed to find her.
“I don’t want to go,” said Hermione, turning in his arms and pressing her face into his chest. He hated this feeling of wanting, of needing her and more. They were supposed to be having fun, supposed to be running around and laughing and just enjoying their limited time together.
But that was the part that really made him sad, made him miss her even as she laid in his arms and kissed him, even as he felt closer to her now than ever. He loved her so much, had for so long and to be separated from her….
“Don’t cry.”
“I don’t know how I’ll manage another seven months ‘Mione.”
Hermione shook her head, tears coming to her own eyes and Ron put his hands on her face, holding her close as he kissed her, as he held her, as he kept her trapped in his bed with him and only him.
It felt like a mistake, in so many ways this felt like a stupid mistake that they were making, the right person but the wrong time as their wants and needs kept them apart.
“I’ve never hated Christmas like I do now.”
“Damn this season.”
~`~
We could call it even
You could call me babe for the weekend
'Tis the damn season, write this down
I'm stayin' at my parents' house
And the road not taken looks real good now
~`~
Hermione stopped at the sound of knocking on the door, looking up at the clock, it wasn’t late but it wasn’t exactly early either. They were having dinner before they walked to church for midnight mass. Hermione normally didn’t care to go, but she wanted to this year with her parents.
She wanted as much time as possible with them, she wanted weeks and months, not hours and days like she did have.
She wanted the same with Ron, she wanted the same with Harry and Ginny and all of her friends that didn’t return to Hogwarts. She felt lonely in her dorm being a year older than everyone else, she missed Lavender and Parvati’s giggling, Elouise’s nightly tittering, even the stupid pop music that she never could get away from.
It was such a strange place in time to be.
“Hermione,” said Jane, and Hermione turned to look at her mum as she stepped back into the kitchen. She moved without thinking as Ron stepped out from behind her mum, his red hair gold in the light overhead. “I see you know our guest.”
She was crying and it felt stupid because she had just woken up in his bed that morning. But he had decided like she did that they didn’t need to be apart for the remaining time she was home, the remaining time they had left between now and her getting back on the train.
“I heard that your mum makes some amazing cookies,” whispered Ron and Hermione couldn’t stop herself from laughing.
“I love you,” said Hermione, and Ron kissed her.
“Love you too.”
~`~
Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires
Now I'm missing your smile, hear me out
We could just ride around
And the road not taken looks real good now
And it always leads to you in my hometown
~`~
Ron stared at the scarlet steam engine as it pulled away from the station, the taste of Hermione’s lips still on his own as he smiled to himself. He missed her already and wondered if this was going to be his life from now on, missing Hermione when she was out of sight and loving her even more when he did see her.
He knew that the upcoming months would be a challenge, that he would get her letters but not know what to write back to her. That had always been their relationship, but he would keep reading.
She had tucked her copy of Little Women into his bag that morning with her notes, her annotations just for him to know a little more about her. He knew he would find every little piece of her love in the words she put down just for him.
She would laugh at Amy’s stubbornness, find joy in Meg’s happiness, cry with Beth and her ending, and fall in love as Jo did with her professor.
Ron was no professor, he was no Laurie, in many ways he found kinship with John Brooks and his humble life with his love. He himself had a humble beginning and found a love that was so special and important to him that he would fight in another war for Hermione and the smile he was already missing.
“Should we go?” asked Harry, and Ron nodded as he turned on his heel. He didn’t know the next time he would be in this train station, if it would be a few months from now in early April or late June or in September years from now when his children were going to school.
“Feels weird being on this side,” said Ron, as they headed to the barrier, “who knows when we’ll be back though.”
Harry didn’t say anything, and Ron stepped through the barrier first, feeling as if the holiday was done and truly over with now. He had his holiday season with Hermione, waking up in her bed after sleeping the morning away, finding anyway to spend time with her, kissing her whenever her parents weren’t looking…and a few times when they were. It had been the perfect moment, a week and some days of pure happiness.
Hermione home with him, it would be the only thing keeping him going until she was in his arms again.
~`~
It always leads to you in my hometown
~`~
Hermione smiled as she caught sight of familiar red hair and freckles that she loved so much. She started moving, wrapping her arms around her daughter and pulling her in close to her chest. Her Rosie girl looked like her husband, looked like her father, Ron always told her that it wasn’t true, but all Hermione ever saw in Rose was Ron.
“Mija,” whispered Hermione, kissing Rose’s forehead and holding her in a tight hug. She loved her daughter so much, she was every bit of love and sacrifice she and Ron had fought for together. “Me and your daddy have missed you so much bebe.”
“I’ve missed you too mama,” said Rose, looking up at Hermione and all she saw was that burning look Ron had given her all those years ago when she had kissed him in front of her mum on Christmas Eve. She had told Ron that she loved him for the very first time that morning, and here she was all of these years later hugging her and Ron’s daughter as she came home for the very first time. “Where’s daddy?”
“Waiting at home with Hugo,” Hermione told her, taking her daughter’s hand and leading her to the barrier. “He’s making waffles.”
Rose laughed and Hermione heard Ron’s laugh in hers, she giggled as they continued out of the train station and headed to the underground train that would take them home.
“Daddy!” yelled Rose and Hermione smiled as Ron picked up Rose and held her in his arms. Hermione stood back, watching her family as they all came together, feeling closer to them than she had since Rosie stepped on the train to go to school.
She felt at home.