Broken China
They stared around the room in disgust, looking upon the destruction they'd caused in the heat of the argument, and both felt the same gut-wrenching devastation as they realised they'd done it again. But this time exceeded all others. An overwhelming shame like no other consumed them, filling them head to toe with dread and with doubt.
How much longer could they carry on like this? How many times would they have to hang their heads in shame as they took in the aftermath of the chinks in their drastically un-flawless relationship? How much longer must this go on before they had to accept the painful truth—the truth that maybe, just maybe, this love had never been all that harmonious?
Hermione reached out a foot and poked her toe at the remains of the teapot her mother had given them as an engagement present. It rolled away at her touch, gliding along the once smooth surface of the wooden floor, now strewn with the chipped and broken remains of their fine china, where it collided with some unidentifiable pottery.
The floor was a sea of smashed china and glass. Plates, mugs, cabinet doors, even windows, now lay shattered around them, covering every inch of the floor, which only half an hour ago had been spotless.
Her wand slid from her hand in disgust, but she made no effort to retrieve it. And refusing to look anywhere in Ron's direction, she was unable to observe his reaction, though his mirrored hers.
Anger for each other had morphed into anger at themselves. This was not the way love was supposed to work. This was not the way two people, engaged to be married in a couple of months, were supposed to behave. How many times would they have to smash up and then repair the china after every argument before they understood that there may indeed be flaws in their relationship?
Hermione shifted her gaze but no matter where she looked, only wreckage could be seen. What had become of them that could have led to such destruction? The china that was scattered around them, seemingly completely irreparable to those who were not learned in the art of magic, represented all the weaknesses of their relationship: The fragility, the vulnerability, the representation of destruction.
"I'll do it," Ron's gruff voice announced, breaking the silence and causing Hermione to jump.
Hermione hadn't expected Ron to speak so soon. She stared at his beautiful face, horrified. He looked as weary as she felt. This argument had been the worst once yet, completely draining them both until they were nothing but the exhausted shells of what used to be good people. An ugly gash was scrawled across his forehead. She had not meant to cause him any harm.
This was how they coped. They could never harm each other because, despite what it may seem, they loved each other unconditionally. So instead they were forced to destroy the china, and this way caused the harm and destruction they felt they needed to, without ever harming the other. It was completely barbaric, Hermione thought to herself. Completely messed up...
Their intentions were innocent, but the reality was unsettling.
Without a response, Ron set to work, muttering the well-versed spell under his breath. Hermione merely watched as the broken pieces resealed themselves, a flurry of flying china, and then settle back into whatever windowsill or cupboard they'd come from. The gentle chinking of the china fixing itself ceased as the job was completed. The vase that stood on the coffee table appeared faultlessly smooth, as though it had never been broken. Hermione stared at it in pain, finding it distressing that sooner or later it would once again find itself scattered across the room, crushed into a million little pieces.
"No," she said aloud.
This time, it was Ron who seemed startled. Normally, they would go hours, maybe even days, before even talking to each other again. It was the same drill every time: Argue, break, repair, ignore, talk, resolve, kiss. Repeat.
In a few quick strides, Hermione was in front of her fiancé, kissing him with as much passion as she could possibly muster. Ron responded with equal force, the reasons for their argument already fading from memory.
"I'm changing the cycle," Hermione explained fiercely.
Ron looked confused. He was still flustered from the unexpected kiss. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Hermione said, "No more."
"No more?"
"I'm tired of these arguments," she said. "I'm tired of fighting with you and wanting to hurt you for the most stupid reasons."
Ron offered a weak smile. Would they really be able to change their ways? A shadow had seemingly crossed his face. "I don't think we love each other as much as we used to," he admitted, but Hermione ignored him, suddenly realising a lot of things. Unnerved by her lack of reaction, Ron went on. "We can't keep breaking the china. Every time we do, we break a little bit of ourselves too. I don't know how much longer our relationship can last before it breaks completely."
Hermione seemed unswayed by his confession. "Do you love me?" she simply asked.
"Of course, I do, but—"
"How long will you love me?"
Ron hesitated for a moment. What was Hermione doing? "As long as you want me to..." he said slowly. Was this a trick question?
Hermione shook her head. "How long will you love me?" she asked again.
Ron thought more about it, trying to choose his answer carefully. He realised that she didn't want him to say what he thought she wanted to say, but actually what he thought himself.
"As long as the stars are above you," he replied. "And longer if I can," he added.
Hermione looked satisfied. "And how long will you want me?"
"As long as you want me to."
She opened her mouth to ask him again, a little annoyed his second answer had had the previous undertones of the first, but Ron stopped her with a kiss, long and drawn out, taking her breath away.
"In that case," Hermione murmured into his lips, "you're wrong about the china."
Ron looked down at her with curiosity, his eyes asking the question that his lips didn't need to.
"Our relationship is like the china," Hermione confirmed, realising now that it had all just been a blessing in disguise. "But you're wrong when you say that one day it will break for good. Because no matter how severely we damage it, we can always fix it—until there are no cracks left."
Ron looked bemused and leant down to plant a kiss on her forehead, his lips softly brushing across her skin. "That's magic," he said.
"No," Hermione happily denied, "that's love."
Originally written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition—Round 12
Team: Wigtown Wanderers
Position: Chaser 2
OTP: Romione! (Ron and Hermione)
Additional Prompts: Fine China, A Blessing in Disguise, and How Long Will I Love You, Ellie Goulding