January 1st 2002
Hermione sat by the window, watching, waiting for the owl that never came. She felt as though it should be raining, to suit her mood. But the one time she thought she could rely on the British weather, it seemed to turn against her too. The sun could be seen at moments streaming out from behind the clouds. What a great start to a new year, she thought sadly, slumping down even further into her seat. She half thought about going into work but knew it would all be locked. No one would be working today. They'd all be happy, celebrating the new year with their friends and family, Hermione thought, though she wished hadn't as immediately after it had crossed her mind she could feel the familiar tears well up inside of her. She blinked rapidly, trying to force them to go away. Or I could do something productive instead of sitting here wallowing, something that might make the tears go away for good. A new year, a new start and all that.
Not for the first time, she picked up her quill and parchment with the same intent as she had had so many times before, but for the first time, she wrote more than two words.
Dear Ron,
I don't know if you'll even read this. I don't know where you live now, what you're doing or who you're with. You might even be married for all I know.
I miss you.
My owl doesn't know you, or where to go, but I think she'll get this to wherever you are. Remember when Harry wanted to send letters to Sirius, he didn't have an address, but Hedwig managed to get it to him?
Sorry. You probably don't want to talk about that.
I'm sorry. For everything. I'm sorry for fighting. I'm sorry for leaving. Although it wasn't all my fault. Though I suppose I overreacted. Maybe it wasn't really that much of a big deal. We could have worked through it. You really shouldn't have - I'm sorry, I'm not very good at apologising. I'm sorry for letting it go on so long. I'm sorry for not writing before now. I'm sorry.
I don't know if you'll read this, as soon as you see the writing on the envelope. I don't even know if I'll send this. But I think I will.
Hermione
March 1st 2002
Hermione watched as once more her tawny owl spread her wings to deliver another letter to Ron. She didn't know why she keep writing, only that it kept alive the hope that one day she might see Pig flying haphazardly towards her window, likely as not straight into it, a letter with her name scrawled clumsily upon it attached to his leg. Plus writing to Ron with her weekly news had gotten to become something of a habit.
Dear Ron,
Happy birthday. I hope you like the chocolates; I didn't really know what to get you. I don't know if you got my last letters, as I haven't heard from you, but they haven't been sent back. Persephone, my owl, always seems to know where to go, so she's either found you or some other Ron Weasley's being harassed every other week!
I heard the Cannons moved up a place in the league yesterday, so I suppose you’ll be celebrating doubly today! Do be careful though - you don’t want to fall off like Charlsky did in that bad weather after he scored the third goal - however amusing it might look!
Don't go thinking that I actually watched the match or anything - it's just that's all anyone's been talking about in the office today - Merlin forbid anyone but me should do any work!
This past week has been such a hassle - it feels like my boss hasn't noticed I only have two hands by the amount of work he's trying to offload onto me! Not that I'm complaining - I do love my job, and wouldn't trade it for the world - or any number of Chocolate Frog cards!
How's your mum? I don't get to see any of your family much, not since I moved. We still write at Christmas and birthdays, but that's about it. I miss you. All of you, I mean, I miss all of you.
I used to speak to Ginny quite often, but I haven't heard from her since Christmas actually. I owled her yesterday, though I haven't heard anything back. I told her that I'd been writing to you; I bet she'd be pleased. She was always going on at me to talk to you again. She said she could tell I missed you, and that she knew you missed me too. Though obviously not that much, otherwise I guess you'd have written back. Has she said anything to you?
I saw Lavender at the weekend - how funny! We exchanged a brief hello, and she asked how I was. In fact, her exact words were, "How are you? About Ron, I mean?" But I wasn't sure she really wanted to know, as she had this queer look on her face. I don't know how she knew we had a fight, unless you've spoken to her recently? I rather thought she'd gloat, but she didn't. Maybe she's grown up a little.
Well, I ought to go now, I have the ever-growing pile of aforementioned work to toil through!
Hermione
April 12th 2002
Hermione sighed as she reached for another folder.
“What’s wrong, Hermione? You haven’t seemed yourself all day - it's nearly lunchtime and you haven't finished all next months work! Is something bothering you?”
Hermione tried to smile at her co-worker, Maggie, but just wasn’t able to muster the strength.
“I’m fine, honestly. Just thinking, that’s all.”
“Ooh - is it a guy?” Maggie leaned forward, suddenly a lot more interested in her friend's predicament.
Hermione rolled her eyes; Maggie was friendly enough, but a bit of a gossip queen.
“No! Well yes, but...he’s just a friend! Or he was, anyway... well, actually, he wasn’t...but then there was...it’s complicated!”
Maggie laughed at the look on Hermione’s face, which seemed to be very confused.
“Definitely not just a friend then - not if it’s 'complicated'! So what‘s the story?”
Hermione sighed once more.
“Like I said - it’s complicated. Let’s just say, we had a fight. A long time ago. It was really stupid. So I wrote to him on New Year’s Day...and didn’t hear anything back. Of course, any normal person would just think, ‘Oh, he’s not interested. Forget it, move on.’ But no, I write again! Nothing. Even then, I don’t stop. Why can’t I just take a hint! Well, I couldn’t take one back at school, why should now be any different!” Hermione cried, falling down onto her desk.
Maggie carefully prised the parchment away from underneath her hair before concentrating once more on the task at hand - for Maggie, it was decidedly more interesting than her work, much to Hermione's irritation.
“Wow, it sounds like you've fallen deep! What‘s so special about this one?” she quizzed, settling back down to work, whereas Hermione took to pacing around the room.
“Nothing. Everything. Argh! That’s just what he’s like! I thought I knew everything until I met him. No-one else can confuse me so well, make me question everything I ever thought I knew, everything I ever felt. That's just what he's like!" Hermione admitted.
“So...what went wrong?” Maggie was now intrigued, all work lay aside, forgotten.
Hermione could feel her beady eyes boring into her.
“Well, it’s complicated...” Hermione sighed. “But that doesn’t matter now. It’s not like I’m ever going to see him again. My only link with him now is a few scraps of parchment and an owl flying over the skies to Merlin knows where, just so my words can be used for extra fire kindling.” She turned back to her desk and shuffled some parchment in an attempt to appear as if she were working.
“Well, why not use that? Find out where he lives, go visit him and say, ’Hey, remember me? Your soul mate?' Come on, Hermione, he’s obviously special. You don’t just let someone like that go, not without a fight."
"How can I? I don't know where he lives. He probably doesn't want to see me anyway," she said sadly, picking up her quill once more.
"You don't know that!" Maggie persisted. "Don't you want to find out, at least? Don’t you want to know where your letters lead? I mean, otherwise you're going to spend the rest of your life wondering 'what if?' What's worse, you're going to spend the rest of your life complaining to me about it! Come on, Hermione, what's the worse that can happen?"