The Faith of an Auror

Hermione raised a shaking hand to her chest, taking an unconscious step back. "Ron?" She raked over the man's figure, heart hammering. Now that she saw it, she couldn't undo it. It was Ron. He was older, somehow taller, fitter, bearded, tattooed, better dressed even, but there was no doubting it. After ten years of no contact, Ron Weasley had somehow shown up on her doorstep.