Written for:
QL Round 5: (Harpies, Chaser 2) Write about a character who is not able to trust someone they love. Additional Prompts: (word) influence, (word) serene, (song) Amnesia- 5 Seconds of Summer
Are You Crazy Enough to Do It Challenge?: (title) Crushed Hearts
Word Count: 2756
A/N: This story is based around the song. Incredible song and it fits perfectly.
Thanks to my fabulous teammates Bex and Lizzy for beta-ing.
Ron trudged home after a long and grueling day. He'd been assigned a new batch of Auror trainees to mentor, but Merlin help him, they behaved like first years. As the cherry on top, it had started pouring the moment Ron stepped out of the telephone box he used to enter in and out of the Ministry. He couldn't wait to see Hermione; she would know how to cheer him up.
Oh, how he loved Hermione. He loved her beyond words, so much that he was going to propose next week under the stars.
...cCc...
Ron pushed open the door to his flat without knocking. After all, he and Hermione shared the flat.
She was nowhere in sight, but he could he hear some rustling of sheets in their bedroom. Maybe she wanted to surprise him?
He strode into the bedroom and stopped dead in his tracks.
Hermione was naked, she was waiting for him, but with a man with blonde hair and sharp gray eyes that belonged to only one person, and he was currently lying next to Hermione, also unclothed.
Ron froze and his veins turned to ice. That was Draco Malfoy in his and Hermione's bed and he was smiling smugly. Hermione sat up, her cheeks flushed, and hastily began to apologize.
"Ron, I am so sorry, I can explain—"
He did not yell, he did not lose his temper, but simply pointed to the door, whispering the deadly words, "Out."
"Excuse me, Weasley, if you think you can kick us out of her flat—" began Malfoy heatedly, but the electricity crackling in Ron's eyes made him falter.
"This is my flat. I bought it and everything in it with my hard-earned money. The only things that are Hermione's are her clothes. Now both of you scram before I do something I regret. Actually, I won't."
Neither of them protested. Malfoy gathered his clothes and sneered at Ron as he departed. Ron did not flinch nor react. He stared at Malfoy with something akin to hatred.
Once Malfoy was gone, Ron rounded on Hermione whose clothes were in her arms. For once in her life, she looked genuinely afraid of him. Her carefully applied mascara was running in streaks.
"There's the door," he stated, pointing, "You can see yourself out, or shall I call Malfoy back to help you?"
She looked stung. "Ron, I—"
"Don't," he said flatly, "Just get your miserable self out of my flat and don't ever come near me again."
"If you'll let me talk—"
"How am I supposed to trust you now?" Ron argued, his temper threatening to burst. "You go and break my heart and you expect me to believe you? Just get out."
She cast him one last mournful look which Ron ignored and Apparated out of his flat.
Ron stared at the spot for a minute, before breaking down completely.
"That bastard Malfoy," he croaked, succumbing to tears. "He took away my Hermione."
...cCc...
"So, she ditched you for that jerk Malfoy?" Harry asked sympathetically. "That must've been rough, mate."
"Don't remind me," Ron groaned, throwing another gnome over his shoulder. He and Harry were de-gnoming the garden in order to help release Ron's frustrations.
"And on top of that, you gave me the worst possible group of trainees. They're so incompetent I'm about to rip my hair out."
"Sorry," said Harry sheepishly. "If it provides any consolation, you were the best out of the three dunderheads that were available."
Ron glared at Harry, who wasn't paying any attention due to his wife coming out of the Burrow at that moment.
"Harry, James is agitated; he wants his dad again," she sighed, "I swear that boy loves you more than me."
"Gin, don't say that," assured Harry, striding over to his wife and planting a kiss on her head. "He loves both of us; I'm just a better parent than you are."
He winked at her teasingly and darted off.
"Harry Potter, you get back here—oh well, I'll avenge myself later. What's up?" Ginny asked, picking up the same gnome Harry had been dealing with.
"What does it look like?" responded Ron gloomily, dropping a particularly fussy gnome. It happily scampered away.
Ginny nodded understandingly. "She doesn't deserve you, Ron," she said firmly, "if she can throw your love away like that so easily."
"I keep telling myself that, but I've loved Hermione for almost ten years now. It's nearly impossible to stop loving her. All those beautiful memories, those lovely times, continue to haunt me."
"I dreamed of a future with her. I had it all planned out from when we would be married to when we died of old age." His voice cracked. "I was going to propose to her next week. And then, reality hits, I catch her having an affair with Malfoy, it's all smashed to smithereens."
At this point, he was near tears again. Ginny patted his back compassionately, her own eyes welling up with tears as she listened to Ron spill his heart out.
"That's all in the past," she said, hugging him. "You have to let her go. You'll be fine."
"I know," he lied, accepting her embrace.
I'm not fine at all.
...cCc...
"Don't worry, dear, you look as gorgeous as always," Draco reassured Hermione, who had a job interview and was convinced she looked hideous.
"Are you sure?" she asked tentatively, smoothing down her skirt for the umpteenth time.
"Didn't I just say that you look fantastic?" Draco rolled his eyes playfully, placing a hand on her shoulder and kissing her chastely.
There it was. No spark ignited when Draco's lips touched hers. No fire raced through her veins. It was just—lacking passion.
Hermione plastered a fake smile on her face as he pulled away. "Will you escort me to my interview?"
"I shall." Draco's eyes roamed lustfully over her body and Hermione squirmed. She hated it when he appraised her like that. "But we do have half an hour, since you insisted on getting ready earlier. I can think of more enjoyable activity to occupy the time we have remaining..."
Draco pressed his lips to hers again, deepening the kiss almost instantly. His hands traveled down her spine to her arse, squeezing it. He guided her to the bed and they toppled over—
Hermione gasped and retracted her lips from his just as a powerful memory struck her. She was with Ron, they were in a beach house, and he was lying on top of her with a crooked grin on his face and she was giggling madly—
"Hermione?" a faint voice asked and Draco's face swam hazily in her vision. "Hermione, are you okay?"
His concerned voice pulled her out of her memories.
"I'm fine. I think post-breakup stress is getting to me," she said. "Now, where were we?"
Draco grinned roguishly and leant his head down. As she tried to contribute to the kiss, her mind kept wandering to the fib she had just told.
I'm not fine at all.
...cCc...
Ron didn't want to return to his flat because it triggered painful memories. Knowing Hermione was not going to be waking up beside him was agonizing. His broken heart was an influence on his emotions and he was reluctant.
But his sister, best mate, and the rest of his family were adamantly pressing him to go back. He needed to collect his bearings and face his fears. Hermione was gone and he needed to stop moping over her.
His flat was cold, empty, without Hermione's warm presence. She was still lingering there, so Ron set out to rid the flat of evidence. Maybe then he would be able to move on.
He threw out his sheets, because they still contained Hermione's heavenly scent and reeked faintly of Malfoy. He burned pictures of him and Hermione and he obliterated any gifts Hermione had ever given him. He shredded her clothes and tossed her makeup supplies onto the street where they would be crushed. Her books were donated to a local library, as per Harry's suggestion.
When the flat was devoid of anything that reminded him of his ex-girlfriend, Ron brushed off the soot on his hands and said to Harry, who was assisting him in clearing out the flat, "And that, my friend, is what they call closure."
"I suppose," agreed Harry uncertainly, "Hermione's going to have her work cut out for her when she comes looking for her stuff. Are you sure this was all necessary?"
"Oh, of course." Ron dismissed it with a wave of his black-colored hand. "That's the point."
"If you're sure," Harry said, smiling, "I'm glad you're getting over her."
"Oh, this is just step one," said Ron airily, looking serene, "Step two is revenge. And I think I may just have the idea..."
He and Harry (with George's input) concocted a plan so intricate it would guarantee Malfoy and Hermione humiliation wherever they went.
But it was Ginny who planted the seeds of doubt in their minds.
"Are you sure this is the right way to go?" she asked quizzically. "I mean, Hermione's devastated too. She told me when I encountered her in Diagon Alley that she regrets what she did to you, Ron. She wants to apologize and talk it through with you but you keep shutting her out. You're not the only one hurting."
Ron glanced up from the newspaper headlined "Golden Trio Split: What Happened?" and chewed thoughtfully on his lip.
"I gave up on her ages ago. She betrayed me, so how I am supposed to trust in what she says?"
"Just go, Ron, and hear her out. You need to." Ginny poked him impatiently. "And move. You're hogging the bacon."
...cCc...
HG,
Come over. We'll talk. Alone.
-RW
Hermione knocked on his door that same day at half-past four. Ron was setting out a tea tray for two. He'd made chamomile tea, Hermione's favorite.
"Come in!" he called by default, temporarily forgetting that Hermione didn't have a key anymore.
"I don't have a key." Her voice was nervous.
"Oh right." Ron walked over the door and opened the door.
Hermione stood there, her curls soggy and limp from the rain. Her makeup was smeared, reminding Ron nostalgically of the night she'd left.
He composed himself and said graciously, "Come on, I don't bite."
He received a small smile from her and she stepped in, gazing around.
The flat had changed. The walls were no longer cream-colored, but ivory. The furniture was taupe, perfectly complimenting with the walls. The pictures of them together on the mantle above the fireplace were replaced with framed photos of him, Harry, and his extensive family.
Hermione gazed around in awe; she had no idea Ron was so good with color coordination. Draco's flat was lackluster; his walls and furniture clashed horribly.
As if he was reading her mind, he said, "Ginny helped me pick the colors out. I couldn't decide between beige and ivory, but she thought ivory was more suitable with the furniture we had chosen."
"Oh." Hermione nodded dumbly, not sure what else to say. Frantically, she racked her brains for a question.
"When did you remodel?" she asked.
"Not long ago," he answered, a frosty edge to his voice. "A week after, well, you know..."
He trailed off into silence. They both knew how that sentence ended.
"So, are you going to offer me tea, or am I going to have to ask?" Hermione filled the awkward silence, her tone humorous.
"Oh, erm, sorry." Ron gestured for her to sit on the plush sofa. He sat on the armchair next to her and silently served her tea.
Hermione inhaled softly, the aromatic scent of the tea reaching her nose. He had made chamomile tea, her favorite. He remembered.
Or he was just trying to be nice. Hermione allowed the thought to escape before sipping her tea.
"So, about that day," she began and watched as a shadow crossed his face.
"Yes?" he replied curtly, "What about it? I thought I made my stance clear."
"You did," she said, "and yet here you are, having tea with me."
"All thanks to my sister and my best friend," he retorted, "I wasn't about to let you back into my life so soon."
Hermione swallowed back a biting comment. "Ronald, I didn't come here to argue, I came to explain my unethical actions. So just shut your trap and listen."
Ron obliged, sending her a mutinous look as he did so.
"A month ago, out of boredom since you were away on an overnight mission, I went to the bar down the street and met him there. He was alone. Apparently, his date had stood him up. He was downing shots of tequila, but wasn't completely inebriated. I asked him what was the problem and he told me that he was having girl problems. He kindly bought me a drink, despite my objections. I gave him some advice and then as a thank you he purchased another drink for me. One thing led to another, we became totally sloshed and he must've taken me back to his flat and shagged me there, because I woke up in his bed the next morning with no recollection of the night before."
"Naturally, I was upset and we rowed, before I stormed out of his flat. You hadn't returned so I didn't tell you anything. I assumed that that was it."
"A few days later, he barged into our flat while I was showering. Not knowing he was there, I exited the bathroom with only a towel. When I entered our bedroom, he was sitting on our bed. I screamed and dropped the towel, revealing my naked body. He was startled as well, but he was calmer. He wanted to talk about that night when we'd fornicated by mistake. Then he confessed he'd been partially sober and recalled the experience perfectly, and to my shock, it'd felt right. He suggested we do it again to see if I felt the same way. I was unwilling but I was curious, so I foolishly thought it wouldn't be harmful to do it again."
"I liked it too, but I didn't want to admit he was right, but I couldn't deny it. So, we started having this relationship behind your back, thinking we'd been successful from hiding it from you until you walked in on us."
Hermione looked wretchedly at him; she had nothing more to say. Ron's expression was unreadable.
"So, you lied to me for a month," he said slowly, trying to comprehend all of the information Hermione had just given away. "You were fooling around with Malfoy for a month without telling me?"
Hermione nodded, unshed tears sparkling in her eyes.
Ron sprang to his feet, eyes blazing. "What is wrong with you? What does that Malfoy git have that I don't?"
"Nothing," she whispered brokenly.
"Then what is it, Hermione?"
Hermione looked shamefully at her lap, her tea forgotten. "I don't know."
Ron heaved in heavy breaths of air. "Get out."
"But I haven't—"
"You lied to me for a month. You had an affair behind my back with the person I hate the most. You didn't give a damn about how I would feel."
Hermione jumped to her feet. The teacup slid to the ground and splintered.
"Ron, I initially opposed it, but I gave in. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have."
"But you still did!"
"Can you stop contradicting me? I only wanted to heal our torn bonds and become friends again, but it seems that you don't want to!"
"Can you blame me?" Ron snapped.
Hermione didn't respond, but her tears were good enough.
Ron massaged his temple before his posture slumped.
"Leave," he said wearily, "and don't come back until you're ready to tell the truth."
All of the fight drained out of Hermione. She didn't bother mending his broken teacup nor did she spare him a forlorn look. She strode out of his flat with tears streaming down her face.
Ron wordlessly repaired the teacup. Another thing to burn, he thought bitterly. He couldn't even enjoy tea anymore without him recalling this disaster.
He'd wanted her so desperately to return to his life. But his memories of her dishonesty were brought to the forefront of his mind.
He'd loved her once, only to have his heart broken into a million pieces.
At last, after much torture, deliberation, and destruction, it was time to move on.
"And that, my friend, is what they call closure." - Rachel Green, Friends