"I'm sorry Ron, but... I don't think we're working out. I think it's best if we broke up. It's not you at all. I just don't think we have the right chemistry. We'll still be friends, though, right?"
Hermione Granger's words echoed in my head even five years later. We had dated for a brief time back in our seventh year at Hogwarts. I thought we were having fun, getting along well. Then one day, out of the blue, she dropped a bombshell on me. Told me we weren't meant to be. That hurt me. I spent much of the next month spending as little time with her as possible. It was next to impossible, considering we were in the same House, and we were still friends with each other, and Harry. Eventually, I came around. I'll be the first to admit that I was a prat, even after that month, but who wouldn't be? I'd loved Hermione from first-year. And of course, Harry was there for the both of us, letting us heal in our own time, lending his shoulder to cry on when we needed it. Harry... my best friend, until right after we all left Hogwarts.
"Ron, Harry and I have something to tell you. Ron, Harry and I moving into together while you're away at the Russian Ministry training. I know it's sudden, but we've fallen in love. You're not mad at us are you? We'll still be friends, though, right?"
My best mate was moving in with my ex-girlfriend... and they were in love. Just peachy. I left for Russia in a terrible mood. I spent those six months brooding whenever I could. I received loads of letters from them, asking how I was. I only ever replied twice. Ginny said I was being childish. I knew she was right, but I felt completely betrayed. Right before I came home, I wrote a letter to them, letting them know I was coming home and that I missed them both. They replied and told me they were excited, they had wonderful news to tell me. I had a rock in the pit of my stomach for my last week in Russia. I knew what was coming and there was no way I could avoid it, but I had to be the strong, supportive friend and listen to what they had to say.
"Ron, guess what! Harry and I are engaged! Isn't that wonderful? And of course you'll be the best man at the wedding. We wouldn't have it any other way. You know we still love you, right Ron? Nothing will ever change that. And, of course, we'll still be friends, right?
I now had to face the burden of actually looking happy for them. I think in a small measure I was, but I still hated them. Shortly after they announced their engagement to her parents, Hermione father died; a result of Voldemort's on-going Muggle surge. After the funeral, she pulled me aside and asked me to walk her down the aisle. She told me if her father couldn't, I had to. I accepted of course. I wasn't about to deny her that at her father's funeral. But as she hugged me in thanks, I slipped her a small piece of parchment, wrinkled from my continuous re-folding of it. On that parchment, my entire heart and soul was spelled out for her in a few useless words. It told her of how hurt I was when she broke up with me, how unhappy I was when she and Harry moved in together once I'd left for Russia, how angry I was that they were engaged. A week later she owled me, told me she'd found the letter and that she was heart broken. She asked me why I hadn't told her before now, and asked me to meet her the next day at her favourite little coffee shop in Muggle London.
As I stepped through the door that day, I had a million thoughts running through my head. Why had I given her the letter in the first place? Why couldn't I just swallow my pride and be the best friend they both knew and loved? I spotted her at a booth by the side window, lost in one of her many books. I strode across the room, shrugging off my jacket as I went. She noticed me and rose to greet me in a friendly hug. When we pulled apart, she had tears in her eyes.
"Ron, why didn't you tell me sooner? I would have said no to Harry if I'd known it would upset you this much. You know we care for you deeply. We didn't want to hurt anyone with this, you know we wouldn't," she choked out. I just stood there, my brave face slowly wavering. I gestured to her seat and she took it as I sat across from her.
"Hermione, do you have any idea what it's been like growing up with you and Harry? He was always the hero in the spotlight; you were always the leading lady. Me? I was the useless sidekick. I couldn't stand it, even then. But I never said anything, because I was always happy to have you both as friends. I would never have done anything to jeopardize that. And even now, I still feel that way. That letter was a silly idea. I don't know why I wrote it in the first place. But I want you to know, that you and Harry both have my blessings. I want you to get married, and live full, happy lives together. I want you to have a load of children so I can spoil them rotten. I want to go back to being best friends, the way we were in Hogwarts. Nothing else matters to me." I explained. My brave face was now a puddle of tears on the table in front of us. Hermione, though still crying, was staring at me in slight shock.
"Of course Ron. Always friends, that's the way it should always be. We'll always be friends, and you can spoil our children as much as you want. And even if it was a silly idea, I'm glad you wrote that letter. I didn't want any of that to come between us. Next time you have a problem like that Ron, please, tell me. I'll understand, no matter what it is. You know that, don't you?"
"I do, I know you'll always be there for me. And Hermione, before I go, I need to tell you one more thing." I stood up and put my jacket back on, prepared to leave as soon as the words left my mouth.
"Yes, Ron, anything."
"I'll be there whenever you need me. For Harry too, but I need you to know one thing. If it doesn't work out with you and Harry, I might not be there for you. I've had enough mind games and I'm fed up. I may be there as a friend, but I'll never be there as a lover again. My heart is too tired for it now." She began to protest, confusing filled her eyes, but I crossed the room again. Running had always been my biggest specialty. At the door, I glanced back at Hermione. Her head was in her arms, sobbing on the table. My heart twisted inside my chest, to see her like that, but I knew it would be for the best.
Six months later, I was standing in the doorway of a small room inside the church, watching as Ginny helped Hermione with her veil. She was gorgeous, standing there in her beautiful white gown. For a brief moment, I almost told her to forget everything I'd said in the coffee shop. But I quickly caught my tongue. Instead, I just stood there, my hands crammed deeply into my pockets, twisted into fists. I felt a light tap on my shoulder, and turned to see Hermione's mother. She smiled at me, whispered it was time. I thanked her and turned to my sister and best friend.
"Hermione, they're ready for us," I told her. She smiled at me too, and she glowed like an angel. Ginny gave me a kiss on the cheek as she passed, happy that I was happy again. I held my arm out for Hermione and she took it.
"You look beautiful," I told her as we stood just beyond the aisle leading to the alter.
"Thank you," she whispered. I gave her a small kiss on the cheek in encouragement and placed her veil in front of her face. She took my arm again and I lead her down the aisle, to a beaming Harry. As we walked, I heard her whisper:
"I'm sorry Ron. I always have been and I always will be. I'll never love anyone else the way I love you and Harry. And thank you, for everything." I just patter her hand in response. What more could I say?
Three months later, Voldemort had declared official war on the Wizarding World. Harry, Hermione and I were right up at the front, among the top wizards and witches we'd ever known. My mother, naturally, argued with me night and day about being so close to danger. On a particularly quiet weekend, I was granted a day of rest. Voldemort had shown no signs in a week so days off were rationed amongst the busiest defenders. I awoke that morning, an odd feeling of dread in my stomach. I went about myself, catching up with my brothers and helping de-gnome the garden. In the afternoon, I took my broom and flew around the orchard, allowing myself to be lost in the cool breeze. As I flew around one tree, I spotted my sister making her way towards me, waving frantically. I flew over and dismounted.
"Ron, mum wants us in the house now. She has something to tell us." I walked back to the house with Ginny in silence. We seated ourselves in the living room, along with Fred, George and Bill. Mum came into the room, her eyes puffy and rimmed red.
"Children," she began, struggling to speak. I could see how much she'd aged since I first started Hogwarts, 13 years ago. But she seemed to have aged another twenty years since breakfast.
"Children," she started again, "I have terrible news." She sobbed into a kerchief she was holding. Bill jumped up and put his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into the kitchen, leaving the rest of us dumbfounded. Bill returned almost immediately, a piece of parchment clutched and trembling in his hands.
"Harry Potter has been killed," he told us. I refused to believe it. I jumped up, screamed at Bill to stop playing games. I demanded to see the letter. I shouted louder as Ginny's crying slowly grew louder. Fred and George held me back as Bill tried to explain that it was true, holding the letter out for me to read. It was from Hermione. The writing was so messy I could barely read it. It was scratchy from where she was crying hardest, and it was littered with smudged ink, where her tears hit the page. I ripped up the letter, refusing to believe he'd leave Hermione and I here, alone.
Less than a month later, Voldemort had been defeated, by none other than Neville Longbottom. Hermione and I were invited to his house shortly after, for a celebratory dinner with his closest friends. I escorted Hermione and Ginny, though none of us felt much like going. But we were there in support of our friend who had just saved the entire Wizarding World for good. There was no way we were going to pass up this opportunity. As Ginny and Neville's wife, Luna Lovegood, cleaned up the dishes after dinner, Neville chatted with Dean and Seamus about where they had been stationed during the war. I slipped off, to catch a breath of fresh air on the porch. I came across Hermione, sitting alone in the dark, playing with something in her hands. Upon closer inspection, it was her wedding ring; she was continuously twisting it on her finger. She still hadn't taken it off. I sat next to her and looked up at the cloudless, starry sky.
"It's too bad Harry couldn't be here," Hermione said in a rough voice. She sounded as though she'd been crying. I took her free hand and squeezed it.
"Harry would have loved being here, to support Neville," I told her. There was a long silence between us, the only sound being the crickets around us and the laughter floating from inside.
"Ron... did you mean what you said that day at the coffee shop? When you told me you could never love me the way you did in seventh year again? That your heart was tired," she asked quietly. I nodded, knowing she couldn't see, but also knowing she probably already knew the answer.
"Why would you say such a thing? I've always loved you," she told me.
"I know Hermione. But I meant it. I will always love you of course, but never again as a lover." She pulled her hand away then, and walked back into the house. I was now in the dark, feeling very alone.
"Ron, guess what! I'm pregnant, with Harry's baby! Isn't that wonderful? Harry would be thrilled, aren't you? And, as always, we'll still be friends."
I was thrilled, to be honest. My best friend was having a baby! She'd given me the job of godfather. I couldn't be prouder. As the months passed in Hermione's pregnancy, I was there for her every step of the way. And when I rushed her to the Muggle hospital, that one day, I felt a rush of excitement and nervousness. When I tried to follow after Hermione down the hall, an attendant stopped me, asking if I was the father. I almost blurted out a yes, before Hermione shouted after me. I told her they wouldn't let me in. She demanded I was there. I sat beside her as she pushed, my hand slowly being crushed by her sudden gain in strength. And when I heard the baby's first cry, tears of happiness spilled over my eyes. A doctor told Hermione she had a boy, and asked what his name was. She looked at me for a moment, then to the doctor.
"Ronald James Potter."
Four years went by, and I was seeing Hermione and Ronnie almost every day. As we stopped for ice cream one day, Hermione leaned in to kiss me. I backed away.
"I told you Hermione, I can't do this again," I told her. She looked out off, but let it slide. She and I continued to raise Ronnie, up until the day I accepted position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, when Ronnie was nine. I would be joining Neville, who taught Herbology, Luna, who taught Divination, and Ginny, who taught Charms. She desperately wanted to come, but oddly turned down the request for her to fill the position of Potions professor. I left for Hogwarts, promising Ronnie I would visit, and that he could join me once he'd turned eleven. Before I boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time in almost 24 years, Hermione grabbed my hand, pulling me close. She kissed me then, and I felt a tingle flow down my spine.
"I love you Ronald Weasley," she said before letting my hand go.
"Never again," I muttered, before boarding. When I looked out my window, I saw was crying. And I knew I had caused them.
Two more years went by, and Ronnie finally joined me at Hogwarts. Hermione had declined the post of Potions professor yet again, but was Flooing me every night.
"I can't do this anymore, Ron. I can't deny my feelings for you anymore. I love you Ron. I always have, and I always will. I was wrong to choose you over Harry, but I couldn't help it. I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me? Do you still love me?" she sobbed one night, over the Floo. I had sensed this would be coming, once she didn't have Ronnie at home for companionship.
"I'm sorry too Hermione, but I don't love you like that anymore. I won't let my heart be fooled again. I'm sorry, but no, I can't do it again. You're alone now. But, we can still be friends, right?"