"Goodbye, Ron."
Hermione turned and walked away, leaving behind her life in England as she made her way toward the airport terminal, bound for Australia and the life her parents had chosen in Sydney. Ron simply stood there, too stunned at the finality of her words to respond with anything but an open-mouthed stare. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned back toward the car. His father was leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest and a shrewd look on his face.
"I know, I know," Ron grumbled, ignoring the look as he began to open the door. Arthur Weasley shut it with a slight cough.
"So you're just letting her go then?" he asked. "I thought you were going to talk to her, work something out."
"I tried," Ron muttered. "I would have gone with her, but I couldn't say it. I couldn't say anything."
Arthur put an arm around his shoulder, and though he was far too old for such a thing, Ron felt comforted by the gesture and leaned into it.
"What did you talk about?" his father asked gently. Trying to gather his thoughts, Ron remembered the day Hermione had first told him she was thinking of leaving…
"Ron?" Hermione asked, looking up from her book. They were sitting in the garden of the Burrow, enjoying a quiet hour alone by the pond before Sunday dinner. Hermione had brought a book on magical law, and Ron had brought the latest Quidditch Weekly. It was a rare moment of respite from a manic schedule of work and wedding preparations: Harry and Ginny's wedding was two weeks away, and Mrs. Weasley was constantly ordering everyone around. They had escaped to the garden for a short break before they were certain to be rounded up for something.
"Hm?" Ron asked, half-listening as he scanned over the season stats for the Canons. He glanced at the Harpies as well; it was his sister's team, after all, and he was curious how things looked for the Canon's rivals.
"Ron," Hermione repeated. She cleared her throat, and when Ron looked up, she was giving him a look that clearly asked him to put down his magazine and listen. He sat up and gave her a sheepish grin with his full attention.
"Well," she started again, "I'm planning on going to Australia."
Ron nodded, unsurprised. Five years ago, Hermione's parents had decided to return to Australia, having enjoyed the life they had developed over the year their daughter had been hunting Horcruxes. They had discovered a new happiness with their small business in Sydney, and although their memories had been restored and they had forgiven Hermione for casting the spell to protect them, they had soon moved back to Australia and restarted their business. Hermione visited them regularly, but Ron knew she missed them and had hoped to visit before the winter holidays.
"When? he asked. "Not until after the wedding, I assume."
"Of course," she said, not looking at him. "I'm leaving the next day."
"The next day!" Ron exclaimed, sitting up straighter. "But that's two weeks away! What's the rush?"
Hermione was silent, and Ron was startled to see her eyes tearing up.
"I'm not visiting," she whispered, her lower lip trembling as she looked away again. "I'm moving."
Ron shook his head as he remembered that awful announcement. Hermione had run into
the house; he had sat back in shock, and by the time he had returned to the Burrow, Hermione had already made her excuses to Molly Weasley and Apparated home, leaving Ron unable to explain to his parents what had just happened.
He had followed her, of course, and that conversation had been even worse…
"Why did you leave?" Ron asked. He was sitting in the living room of the flat she had rented in Diagon Alley after finishing seventh year and taking a job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She was in the kitchen and did not answer right away.
"I'm sorry, I just wasn't up to staying for dinner," she finally replied, handing him a cup of tea.
"Why?" he asked again. "What did you mean, you're moving? To Australia?"
She nodded, watching his face.
"In two weeks?" Ron continued without waiting for her answer. "Why haven't you said anything before?"
"I'm sorry, Ron," she replied, shaking her head. " I wanted to, but it was so hard, what with the wedding preparations and your new job and everything. I know it's sudden, but it's done. I'm moving to Sydney."
"Why?" he demanded once more, dreading the answer.
Hermione sighed and looked away, much as she had at the Burrow. "I…I need a change. I just don't feel like there's anything keeping me here anymore. I'm tired of my job, I'm tired of living alone, I'm tired—"
"Of me?" Ron accused. "That's it, isn't it? You're tired of me."
Hermione's eyes flashed as she set down her cup. "No, Ron, I'm not. Not everything is about you, you know."
Ron looked into his teacup and grumbled. "Then why move halfway across the world? How can you be tired of a job you've been at for less than a year?" Having done all she could to further her work with S.P.E.W., Hermione had moved to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement the previous winter. She had recently begun to work with the Wizengamot on changing old wizarding laws, rarely enforced but still legal, that favored pureblood witches and wizards.
"It's not quite what I thought," Hermione replied evasively. "And there's nothing else keeping me here, Ron." She stood up and shrugged. "Not really. Aside from my job, things haven't changed much since we left school, and I just don't feel satisfied anymore. I want to get away, start over, and try something new."
Again Ron was quick to anger. "What about us? That's not worth staying for?"
"What about us, Ron?" Hermione asked wearily. "We hardly see each other anymore. You're spending all your time at the shop now, and I'm busy with my job. There hardly is an 'us' at the moment. This is the first real conversation we've had in weeks!"
"I thought you wanted me to work at the shop," Ron pointed out, setting down his cup and raising his eyebrows. "You said it was a better fit than working at the Ministry, and that you wouldn't have to worry as much. In fact, I remember you saying you didn't want to see me at the Ministry every day for the rest of our lives."
Hermione waved her hands dismissively. "I know, and I was right: you're a natural at the shop, and I'm glad I don't have to worry about some rogue Death Eater killing you on a mission. And I'll admit I do miss seeing you at work, but I didn't realize…" She trailed off, shrugging again.
"Realize what?" Ron asked.
"I didn't realize how much more time the shop would take," she said. "You're always working now."
"It's not like you have loads of spare time," Ron retorted.
"I have just as much as usual," Hermione replied, unflustered. "Your schedule has changed, though. We never see each other anymore. We haven't been out properly in months. Things are just…different."
"Then I'll make time," Ron said, standing and striding over to her with three quick steps. "I'll tell George he can't keep working me so hard with so little pay—and since he won't pay me more, he'll have to let me work less." He grinned, earning a small smile from Hermione in return. He wanted to hold her, stroke her hair, but she crossed her arms over her chest, distancing him. "Don't leave because I'm working too much. That's just too twisted around."
"It's more than that," she sighed, moving away. He knew he must be missing something, but couldn't imagine what it was. What wasn't she telling him?
"What about the Wizengamot? I thought that was important to you."
"It is, but I'm ready to move on."
"How?" Ron asked, mystified. "What are you going to do in Australia? Work in the Muggle world with your parents?"
"I've already got a job," she said. "Muggle Liason Office."
That had set him off. Hermione had worked so hard fighting for the rights of house elves, witches, and wizards, and now she was thinking about changing paths to work with Muggles? After he had quit his job as in the Auror Office to make her happy, she was going to just up and change hers without talking to him? And then move to Australia on top of it? Somehow the conversation had devolved into yelling, and after throwing him out, Hermione hadn't talked to him for over a week.
"Ron?" he father prodded him, bringing him out of his daydream. "There's still time. She hasn't left yet."
"She won't listen," said Ron, staring blankly into the airport terminal. "I messed up."
"So fix it," said his father, also gazing into the crowds. A security officer frowned and began to move toward them, waving them away from the curb. Arthur Weasley cast a silent spell, and the officer moved in the other direction, leaving them for another few minutes. "You do want to, don't you?"
"Of course!" Ron exclaimed, roused from his dull stupor. "More than anything. I just don't know how."
"Well, think about your last conversation with her," said Arthur, glancing at him over his glasses. "What did you talk about?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "The move, of course. "
"Were you really talking about her moving?" asked Arthur. "Or something else?"
Ron thought back to their conversation from the previous day…
"Ron, this is just something I have to do. For me." Hermione was busy bustling around her flat, packing the last of her things for her trip—no, her move to Sydney. She had sent quite a bit by wizarding means the week before, and was left only a few suitcases for the airplane. Why she was flying by Muggle means was a mystery to Ron, as it would take almost an entire day of travel to arrive. Hermione said she had always enjoyed flying, though, and was looking forward to curling up with a good book, watching the in-flight movie, and sleeping off the rest of the time in the air.
"What about me?" Ron asked, trying hard not to kick at Crookshanks as he wound around his legs. He doubted the Kneazle would miss him, but the animal was certainly putting on like it would.
"I told you, it's not about you," Hermione said, sounding irritated.
"Then why are you breaking up with me?" Ron asked. "It's like you're moving to the other side of the world to get away from me."
"I'm not trying to get away from you," she replied. "I just want to try something new."
"You said that last week," grumbled Ron. "Try something new here."
"Ron, it's not sa—" She stopped herself. "I've done everything I can here." Looking at him with sympathy, she added, "I'll miss you, too, if it's any consolation."
"Consolation?" Ron snorted. "No, not really. Especially since I don't believe you."
Instead of blowing up him as she might have, Hermione shrugged, retreating once more, and continued to pack, closing one suitcase before starting on the next. Ron tried another tactic.
"Why leave tomorrow? Why not wait until Harry and Ginny get back from their trip?"
"I've already talked to her and Harry. I'll say my goodbyes tonight at the wedding," Hermione said softly. "And I'm sorry I can't see them back, but I couldn't get any time off from the Ministry in Sydney. They want me to start immediately."
"Bollocks," snapped Ron. "They'd understand if you took a few extra days to stay with family."
"You're not family," Hermione pointed out, looking him straight in the eyes for once.
"We might as well be," Ron replied. "You're like a sister to Harry and Ginny."
"But I'm not, not really," Hermione sighed. Ron wondered why the statement made her so sad. "And they'll be fine without me. They've got each other now."
Ron grabbed her hand. "I won't. Who am I going to talk to, hang out with while they're off snogging like there's no tomorrow?"
And finally she smiled, although it was a small, sad smile. "Oh, I'm sure there will be someone. George? Neville? Luna, perhaps?"
"Luna?" Ron made a face."I don't want end up hunting snorkle-horned crumpkacks—I want to be with you!"
Hermione took her hand from Ron's and went back to the bedroom. "You had your chance to be with me."
"What the hell does that mean?" Ron called after her. He gave in and kicked at Crookshanks, who hissed and scurried away, winding himself around Hermione's legs as she came back and tossed more clothing into her suitcase and slammed it shut.
"It means what it means: you had your chance." She shrugged and picked up Crookshanks, whispering to him as the cat glared at Ron.
"I had my chance at what?" Ron demanded.
"If you don't know, then it's no use working it out now. It's too late." Hermione set Crookshanks down and put her hand to Ron's face. "And that's okay. I understand. I'll be okay on my own."
"On your own?" Ron repeated. He had never felt as clueless as he had the last two weeks. It was if Hermione were talking in riddles, always refusing him a straight answer. What did she want him to figure out for himself? And why couldn't she just tell him?
She didn't answer, but turned away instead. "I'm leaving after breakfast tomorrow, Ron. I'm sorry."
"At least let me take you to the airpark," Ron said, watching her and holding back tears. "I know you hate taking a cab, and dad loves the place."
Hermione smiled, her eyes bright. "Thanks, Ron. Now, let's get ready for a wedding."
"And you still haven't figured out what she was talking about?" asked Arthur Weasley, studying him carefully. "What you missed?"
"Dad, if I did, would I be standing here with you?" Ron shook his head. "I'm thick with this stuff, and everyone knows it. If she wants something, she should just tell me."
Arthur Weasley chuckled. "Women aren't like that, son. Especially when it comes to this."
"To what?" Ron narrowed his eyes at his father, who was grinning. "Dad! Do you know what she's on about?"
"I could make a pretty good guess."
"Could you share that pretty good guess with a bloke?"
Arthur took off his glasses and pretended to clean them, still smiling mysteriously. "Ron, what's going on in Hermione's life right now?"
"Harry and Ginny just got married," Ron answered, not sure where his father was going. "And the Wizengamot is opening discussion on the new law Hermione's been working on, only she's moving to Australia."
"Never mind the Wizengamot. Has Hermione talked about the wedding much?"
"Loads, yes."
"And has she talked about things like rings and dresses and houses and children and other stuff like that? More than usual?" continued Arthur.
Ron thought about it: yes, she had, but Ron had assumed it was all related to yet another Weasley wedding. It would be the second one in three years, not to mention numerous classmates. It was bound to come up more often than normal. He had been more focused on her sudden announcement to move.
"Yes, but…" Ron trailed off, suddenly realizing where his father's questions were leading. "Oh."
"Exactly," said Arthur. "Hermione has marriage on her mind. Have you ever thought about it?"
"Sure," stammered Ron, suddenly embarrassed to be talking about such a thing with his father. He and Hermione had talked about it a few times, but only casually, and usually only when someone else they knew was getting married. For some reason, he had always put off the serious conversation about getting married; now he wished he hadn't, since it appeared his lack of commitment had finally pushed Hermione away.
"With Hermione?" pressed Arthur.
"I couldn't imagine anyone else," said Ron, his face burning up.
"That settles it, then," said Arthur. He replaced his glasses and stood up straight. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small ring and handed it to Ron.
"Are you proposing, Dad?" Ron joked, taking the beautiful ring. It was a simple diamond set with two rubies on either side; Ron had never seen it before.
"I'm not, but maybe you should," said Arthur. "That was your great-grandmother's, and I brought it just in case something like this came up. You had better hurry before Hermione makes it through scrutiny and it's too late."
Ron suddenly knew what he father was talking about and felt the flush drain from his face as reality sunk in. "It's security," he murmured, turning the ring over in his hand. "And you really think this is the answer?"
"Do you love her?" asked his father.
"Yes," said Ron. "I miss her already."
"Then stop her. Go!" He even pushed Ron toward the sidewalk. "Good luck!" He got back in the car and began to pull away.
"Wait! Dad!" cried Ron, running back to the car and putting his head through the window. "What do I do? What do I say? And what if she says 'no'?"
"Get down on your knee and say what you feel, Ron," replied his father. "And don't worry, she won't turn you down. She loves you, too." He pulled away, leaving Ron standing at the curb with a diamond ring, all alone.
* * *
The Journey Back by Gmariam
Chapter Endnotes: Many, many, many (and more) thanks to both Carole/EquinoxChick and WeasleyMom/Lori for helping with me with this so much - plot, characterization, Brit-picking, everything. I'm finally posting it, so here's hoping my plan works! Please note I may be adding warnings as the story continues. Thank you for reading and reviewing!