A/N: I found this for you guys. Thought someone would be interested. I'm slowly coming back to writing, but I can't make any promises about uploading new stories. This is finished and so I thought I should share.

A/N (when this was first started): So I really am a spazz and a half (times three and nine-tenths plus fifteen. Anyone who can calculate that for me gets a huge cookie!) for this actually came to me just as I was drifting off to sleep. I'm finding that I get the better ideas for stories at that time; according to my mother (fellow published writer, thank you very much!), it's because your brain goes all imaginative and stuff which is why you have dreams. I guess it makes sense, but I find it highly unfair since I'm only free to write during the day, like a normal human being. Where was I?

Right, OK. Yes, so this came to me when I was on the brink of sleep and I wrote point form notes about it including chapter titles. They all make sense, which is weird because I couldn't take a note in a classroom that would make sense, but for a bloody story, it works out; must've been the brink of sleep thing. Anyway, I keep rambling. So this is a chaptered fic and I promised myself that I wouldn't post it until it was complete. I honestly don't want another Forever and Always fiasco (not that I don't love writing it, I just realise that I really should wait until I'm finished with a story before posting it here), so if this is up, this entire story is complete which means that I should be updating every second weekend or so.

Major shout out to my AMAZING wifey and beta: HermioneGrangerTwin!! LOVE YOU BABE! Also to Rodica, Flo, JD and Shelly, for being so supportive!

Just a little note that thoughts will be in italics and flashbacks will be in bold italics.

So here we go!

How to Get Over Ronald Bilius Weasley

Prologue: Figuring it All Out

Hermione Granger sat on her childhood bed, staring out the window. It was autumn; the trees whose branches tapped on the pane on windy days were shedding their red, orange and gold leaves. Hermione sat watching the leaves flutter past her window, deep in thought. She should have been downstairs with her Muggle parents, but she wasn't in the mood to celebrate anything at that moment, least of all her graduation from Hogwarts several months earlier.

'Mya?'

Hermione sighed and looked over her shoulder at her father, who was standing in her bedroom doorway.

'Hey, Dad,' she mumbled.

Jack Granger shuffled into the room and sat beside his daughter on her bed. They were quiet for several minutes before Hermione stood and walked over to the window, opening it and leaning on the sill. She heard her father moving behind her and soon after felt his hands resting on her hunched, tensed shoulders.

'Do you want to talk about it?'

Hermione shrugged slightly.

'Not particularly,' she whispered.

Jack sighed and absently started rubbing her shoulders. Hermione leant her head against the cool glass and closed her eyes, trying not to picture Ron.

'I'm here if you want to talk.'

You always are, Dad. Funny how, even at nineteen, he knows I have stuff I need to talk about.

Hermione nodded.

'I know, Dad,' she mumbled.

Hermione had skipped her seventh year at Hogwarts to help Harry defeat Voldemort. It had taken a whole year, but she, Ron and Harry found and destroyed the Horcruxes and finally, Voldemort himself. When the school had reopened, Hermione had seized the chance to finish school and graduated with Ron and Harry on either side of her and Ginny beside Harry. That had been two months ago; her parents were so terribly busy that they were only now able to actually make the time to throw Hermione a graduation party. But all Hermione really wanted was to be with Ron.

'You know,' said Jack, 'I may not be as observant as your mother, but I think I'll hazard a guess and say that this has something to do with a Ronald Weasley?'

Hermione opened her eyes and watched as a golden-red leaf fluttered past her window and down to the grass of her parents' well-kept yard. She sighed and nodded, dimly noting the mocking she had received from a mere leaf.

'Hole in one, Dad,' she murmured. 'I miss him. I haven't seen him since graduation and I miss him.'

'You've changed, Mya,' Jack said softly. 'What happened?'

Hermione turned around and wrapped her arms around her father's waist.

'Too much happened, Dad. Far too much.'

'He was with you, wasn't he?' Jack asked gently.

'Yes. He came with us; rather, we went with Harry. But Ron was there. We would comfort each other at night.'

'Did you sleep with him?'

Hermione looked up at Jack's face.

'I fell asleep with him, but I didn't have sex with him, if that's what you mean,' she said.

'How did you comfort each other?'

'We just … curled up beside each other.'

'What do you mean?'

'Are you awake?'

'Yes.'

'Could I talk to you?'

Hermione rolled over to face him.

'Of course,' she whispered, trying not to wake Harry. 'What about?'

Ron shrugged slightly and propped himself up on his elbow, resting his head in his hand.

'I dunno,' he replied. 'But I … I can't sleep. I keep … I keep having nightmares.'

Hermione nodded and shifted closer to him.

'Me too,' she murmured.

Ron shifted and the next thing Hermione knew, she was pressed up against Ron's solid chest.

'I keep seeing you dying,' he mumbled, 'all to save me.'

Hermione gripped his shirt and snuggled closer to him.

'I'd do it, you know,' she whispered. 'I'd die to save you.'

'Why?'

Hermione looked up at him.

'Because you're my best friend,' she murmured.

'I'd die for you too.'

Ron hugged her closer; Hermione felt him shift yet again and she was suddenly curled up against his side, her head and left hand on his chest. She could hear his heart beating in her ear.

'I love you, Hermione,' he whispered. 'You're my best friend and I love you.'

'The way you love Harry?' she asked softly.

Ron squeezed her shoulders.

'The way I love Harry,' he confirmed.

Hermione bit back her tears and gripped his shirt a little tighter.

'I love you too, Ron.'

'You're in love with him,' Jack stated.

'Yes,' Hermione confirmed, 'have been for years. But it's not fair; he's my best friend!'

Jack ran a hand over his daughter's mass of hair.

'I know, Mya,' he whispered.

Hermione gripped the back of her father's shirt and buried her face in his chest.

'I shouldn't miss him this much, Dad.'

'It's different when you're in love, sweetheart.'

'I don't want it to be. I just want to get over him; stop hurting because of him,' she whispered. Hermione looked up at her father. 'How do you get over someone?'

Jack sighed.

'Give it time,' he said. 'And … and ask your mother because I really am not good at this kind of thing.' Hermione laughed a bit and Jack smiled in triumph. 'It's good to know that I can still make you laugh even if you aren't feeling too … hmm, what would be a good word here …?'

'Humoured? Happy? Joyful?' Hermione suggested.

Jack grinned and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

'Are you at least feeling up to spending some quality time with a pair of old geezers? We can't do magic, but we sure can put on a hell of a party.'

Hermione grinned and chuckled.

'Of course,' she whispered. 'But just give me a couple minutes, OK? I don't need Mum fussing over why my eyes are all bloodshot.'

Jack smirked and hugged Hermione.

'I'll see you downstairs in a few,' he whispered before leaving her bedroom.

Karen Granger stood in the kitchen, her arms folded over her chest and her right foot tapping on the floor anxiously.

'Well?' she asked as soon as Jack entered the room.

Jack walked over to his wife and gently pressed his lips to hers.

'You were right,' he said. 'She misses Ronald. What you didn't see was that she's in love with him.'

'How do you know?'

Jack told her about his conversation with Hermione and Karen sighed.

'She's too young to be in love,' she whispered.

Jack shook his head.

'From what I understand, this War that she helped end … it made her grow up faster than she had to. She's always had an advanced mind, love. Now, she's like a thirty year old trapped in the body of a nineteen year old.'

Karen wrapped her arms around her husband's waist.

'I really want you to be wrong, Jack. But I get the dreaded feeling that you're right.'

A/N: So, I just want to say that I've based Jack Granger on my dad. I dunno why, but it happened. So there you have it; the prologue. Lemme know what you think.