I wanted to tell Harry. I really did. I mean, when your in your twenties, it seems like everyone's falling in love and getting married. It worried Harry that Ron was so content just being best man, not ever being the groom.
"Hermione, he's lonely. I want him to be happy," Harry told me one night at dinner. I spooned applesauce into Teddy's reluctant three year old mouth and insisted Ron was happy. Harry didn't know, however, the discovery I'd made earlier that day.
It was around noon and I was on lunch break. I figured Ron would be free, so I went up to his flat, getting in with the key he hid under the old welcome mat. It was mostly quiet, except for a sound from the bedroom. Now, I knew what that meant, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious. So I walked right in, to find Ron half naked with a man I don't recognize. Ron broke away from him and looked me in the eye. I stood completly still from shock. Ron asked me to stay for lunch. I agreed and waited in the kichen for them to dress.
Pouring me and the man he introduced as Jack drinks, Ron said, "I'm sorry for never telling you. Honestly, until Jack I was like, totally straight. But you understand right?" As I nodded, Ron took Jack's hand, and I took a moment to scope out Ron's boy toy. He was maybe a year or two younger than us, and a wide eyed, clean cut Asian. I wasn't surprised Ron turned for this guy. He was attractive and friendly, not at all a stereotype of how 'gay' is meant to look. Of course, neither was Ron.
"So, when were you planning on spilling the beans?" I asked Ron, and he twisted a piece of his hair around his finger.
"I wasn't planning," he admitted, but before I could protest, added, "Listen, I was just not sure how you'd react, and Jack was okay with that. But I'm still not ready for Harry to know." I nodded, like that made sense.
"How long have you been ...?" I wondered aloud. Jack said six months, and Ron said seven. I was bloody angry to say the least. Hello, seven months? Curtly, I thanked them for tea, and pretended I was urgently needed at the office.
Once I was on the street, I screamed, the cold air biting my face, the perfect response to how I felt. I wanted to owl Harry from work as soon as I was there. He deserved to know. But at the same time, seeing Jack and Ron so happy stopped me. Confessing would make me feel guilty. Keeping it in would make me feel guilty. I held the secret, driving a canyon between Harry and I, one he didn't even know existed.
So at dinner, I kept quiet, feeding Teddy and insisting Ron was fine. But then Ron walked in and dropped a friggin bomb shell.
"Harry, I'm getting married. Will you be best man?" he asked, and I gasped.
"Who're you marrying?" Harry asked, excited but confused. When Ron said Jack, Harry didn't need words. He promised to meet Jack. Ron stayed to eat with us, and even Teddy shared the unerasable smiles around the table.
"Why so moody dear?" asked Harry as we lay down Teddy that night.
"I've never come out before!" I shouted, "I wanted to do it for him!" Harry laughed, and I forced one, because, well, it was funny. But I was being honest!