Author's Notes: Hehh... heh... Hi. Remember me? I promise I didn't die.
I'm stoopid, I know.
I don't even have an excuse.
But, this is it.
It's lame, I know.
But yeah... It's something. :-] I hope I haven't lost EVERYONE.
And this is it, no sequel or anything.
September 29, 2001 …
"You bought the tickets already?" Hermione asked, munching on a few chips.
He nodded. "We're leaving next week. I already called Matt and he's pretty excited." She nodded and he continued. "Your Mum already knows, too, so we'll just pop by whenever, I guess."
"Mhm," she nodded absently, wondering if it'd be too much if she put a few more chips in the oven. He continued talking but she wasn't paying attention.
"Mumma!" Andrew called, chasing around an enchanted aeroplane. "Ook!"
Hermione raised an eyebrow at his language.
"I think he means 'look,' love," Harry explained, smirking. He watched his son jump around and chase the little blue flying thing.
"I wonder if Joden will be happy to see us back," Hermione wondered aloud, thinking about her boss. She worked part-time and sometimes brought Andrew with her, when Harry had a class or he, too, had to work (they didn't allow children on the job).
He shrugged. "Prolly. I mean, he did always let you bring Andrew in when he was a baby. And I think he just had a soft spot for you."
Andrew squealed, but sat on the floor, now grinning and watching the little plane go by.
"I wonder how the Weasleys are doing," Hermione absently wondered.
"I don't care," he said roughly. Even though it'd been a few weeks, the topic about the Weasleys still touched a soft spot around Harry.
Hermione sighed, dipping a few more chips into her mustard.
Ron hadn't been doing well these weeks, and he knew that the time for Harry, Hermione, and Andrew to go back to the United States was coming quickly. "Today?" he asked himself softly. He wasn't sure.
He had taken the time to actually go to the muggle part of London, though, and try and use the thing called internet. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, other than ask out Fleur back in fourth year, but he'd managed to look up flight times for when Harry and Hermione Potter were set to board.
"Tomorrow, 2:34 PM," He murmured to himself, nodding. He asked an elderly man, "And I just click on that little 'x' atop the screen if I'd like to close the window, right?"
"Yes." He rolled his eyes. Children these days. "All you young folk are always on the internet, I'm surprised you didn't even know how to use a computer."
Ron just grunted, exed out of the window, and walked out without paying to use the internet cafe. He didn't have any muggle money. He wasn't even aware that he had to, honestly. "Okay, Heathrow Airport... Tomorrow..." He sighed softly, looking up at the sky, where planes were noticeable in the sky.
"I'll make up for myself, then."
It was the day of departure, and Harry was wrestling a young Andrew into his clothes. "Come on, Andy," he muttered, putting on his son's socks. Andrew kept on kicking and giggled, rolling of the bed and to his mommy. "Hermione, he won't put on his socks!" He grunted.
Andrew giggled as his daddy threw the sock on the ground, then grabbed it, plopped onto the ground, and put it on himself. He gave his daddy an innocent grin.
Hermione rolled her eyes and scooped up Andrew, her purse already on her shoulder. "Let's go, Harry."
Harry grumbled the entire way there. Obviously Andrew was out to get him.
When he got to the terminal, he had to blink twice as he saw Ron. He gaped. "Hermione... is that... Ron?"
Hermione, who hadn't been paying attention to Harry, asked, "Hm?" She looked to where he was and gasped. "Ron?" What was he doing in a muggle airport?
Ron smiled sheepishly, walking over to them. "I, um... I know you two are still angry with me, and I understand.. But I wanted to just say bye... This time I didn't want you guys to leave without saying our farewells properly." Obviously he'd rehearsed some of this.
Harry blinked. He sighed softly and nodded, and suddenly pulled Ron into a tight hug. "See you, Ron." He smiled and pulled back, letting his wife hug Ron. Andrew squealed as he was squished between the two adults.
Ron smiled and patted Andrew's cheeks. "He's really cute, you know. Didn't think Hermione could do it." He winked playfully and chuckled, glad when Harry did also. "But yeah, I know you guys have to get on your... flight, plane, whatever they're called. Those muggle contraptions."
Harry snickered, then asked, "How did you even know where to find us?"
"The internet," he answered plainly.
Hermione frowned. "You know how to use it?"
Ron grinned at that. "Nope. Some old bloke helped me. He nearly ripped my head off."
Harry laughed at that mental image. He couldn't believe that Ron had gone through all of that trouble just to see them off, though. It was really touching. He'd remember it. Clapping Ron on the back, he murmured, "Well... I guess... We ought to go, then. Getting miniature bags through the security is always a bitch."
Ron nodded, his smile sad. "Yeah. I'll ... I mean, bye." He waved at Harry, patted Andrew's cheek again and gave Hermione a smile before walking out of the airport. He'd been there not even ten minutes, and exchanged nothing but a few words with the Potter family, but all of the effort he'd put behind it hadn't gone to waste. At least, now, when they left it was with a proper goodbye. They wouldn't be running off again.
Meanwhile, as the Potters waited for their luggage to be checked, Hermione murmured, "I think I forgive Ronald..."
Harry simply nodded.
Four months later, Ron had just come home from a night with friends. He laughed and went up to his room, surprised as he saw a letter. It was blank, and he looked at his owl in confusion. He shrugged though, opening it. He gaped as he read the letter:
We thought you should visit another airport again... This time the one in the United States.
Ron smiled and turned the letter over. On the back was an address, presumably where Harry and Hermione lived. He went to put the letter inside the envelope and saw a plane ticket. He grinned widely, then wrote on a piece of parchment: Thank you. I will. - R