Well, for a first RonHermione, I actually quite like how this turned out to be… I never expected to have so much fun writing it, that's for sure, but the idea literally came out of nowhere and begged to be written.
For Cate, who wanted angst. I hope I delivered.
Please review.
Word count: 1319
the light will pave our way
(and we shall reach the stars)
i.
"I loved you once, didn't I?" She asks with sad eyes one day as she wakes up, and he answers her with tears in his eyes.
"Of course you did."
"I'm sorry I can't remember it," she whispers, and maybe it's the blue of his eyes – she's always loved blue – or maybe it's simply that he's there and she doesn't know anyone or anything, but she wants to trust him.
"Don't worry about it. You're alive, and that's all that matters."
She can see the tears in his eyes though, and she doesn't really like them. It's weird, because after all she doesn't know this man.
(except that she does – or so everyone says)
But he looks so sad, and she doesn't like when people look sad around her. So many do this already, and what she liked with Ron was that he always looked so happy to see her, even if there is sadness not so well hidden in his eyes.
"We could…"
"Yes?"
She blushes, but manages to somehow stumble through her next sentence without stuttering too much.
"Well, I was thinking we could try again. I mean, while we wait for my memories to come back…"
(except that she hears the Healers when they think she's sleeping, and they said that her memories were lost, gone and that the chances of them coming back weren't good)
She trails off because this subject is embarrassing, but the smile on his face, though it makes him look a bit goofy, makes it all worth it.
She feels lips tilt up too in response, and as he moves to sit on her bed and they begin to plan for tomorrow, and all the days after, she thinks that maybe this won't be as bad as she thought, even if she has to relearn who she is.
At least, she has someone next to her to lean on.
ii.
"So, what's my name," she asked him the first time he came to visit, because everyone had refused to tell her, citing medical books she had never heard of and had quickly come to hate – apparently it might be too much of a shock for her until they had actually learned what had happened to her memories.
"It's Hermione," he answered with a smile that looked much too painful.
"Why are you sad? I have done anything to offend you?"
"No… No, I'm not sad. I'm, I'm happy, actually," he said but he let out a laugh that fell all too brittle.
And just like that she understood. And felt for him.
"If you'd rather leave, I'd understand you know. I understand that this is hard for you."
"It's hard for you too Hermione."
She smiled a little bitterly. "I don't have the memories you do. Were we…?"
"Yeah, yeah we are – were, I mean." And she pretended not to notice the way his voice caught on the last words.
And just like that she made a decision.
"What's your name?"
"Ron – Ron Weasley."
"Well, Ron Weasley, why don't you take a seat and tell me a bit more about who I am?"
iii.
They live in a small apartment in London, not too far from the Ministry but not too close either.
After all, with Apparition, it takes a wizard or a witch just a couple of minutes to get to their job every day, no matter where they come from.
Ron tells her that they chose it because she loves London, and she can't help but feel a surge of affection for that man who lost the wife he loved and some kind of memoryless copy instead.
"It's perfect," she says when she enters, because it is. She feels like she belongs here, and not just because of the photos on the walls that clearly show she lives here.
(she tries to ignore the way his face looks so downcast when she criticize a plaid she apparently used to love)
She sleeps in what was so obviously their room that she's that close to asking him to stay with her, because she feels like she's intruding on his life, but he says he prefers the couch.
They both know it's a lie, but this one she'll let him keep.
She's not sure she feels ready for anything more than living with him after all. She knows she loved him once, she has to have – why else would she have a golden ring on her finger?
She just can't seem to muster more than affection and sympathy for him, and she doesn't understand why.
iv.
One night, as she turns and turns in her cold empty bed, she gets up and go watch him sleep.
He looks so peaceful like this, with his hands tightened around the plaid she refused to take.
She almost feels guilty for slipping off her ring and leaving. But mostly she feels a free at last, like she's cutting down chains she didn't know tied her down.
She'll come back, though, of course she will.
(she loved him once – given time, she might do so again, and he would deserve it)
For now though, she calls the Knight Bus and asks the driver to take her as far away from this place as possible.
She needs to breathe fresh and untainted air, else she's going to crack, and she can't find that in the city.
(she just can't stand the sad looks everyone have been giving her lately)
v.
Once a woman named Ginny came to visit her when she was in the hospital.
"My brother is a good man," she said. "A bit thick sometimes, but a good man nonetheless. You just need to let him show you this, and I'm sure you'll be just alright."
Ginny grabbed her hand and held it tight, as if she believed it might help transfer her faith to her.
She hadn't thought much of it then, but now as she lies on the greenest patch of grass she could find and traces shapes she feels she should know the name of in the night sky, she feels the urge to go back.
(Hermione's been gone for three days, five hours and seventeen minutes when she crosses back the door to the apartment she shares with Ron.
It's been three days, five hours and seventeen minutes too long, she thinks as the redhead crashes into her arms and kisses her, before starting a rant on how worried he had been.
She just moves past him and puts on the ring that was lying on the table, exactly where she had left it.)
She might not remember him yet, but she's really good at learning.
vi.
"You know the best part of all this?" Hermione asks one day after this, when the shadows on Ron's face have almost disappeared.
Nowadays, she doesn't catch him looking at their old photos with an odd look, but rather smiling at their new ones.
"No, but I have a feeling you'll tell me soon."
"You're right," she replies with a smirk, and she steals a kiss on his jaw before pulling away, feeling like a teenager.
"We're probably the only couple who get to have two real wedding nights with each other."
He laughs, but then what she's just said catch up on him.
"You mean?"
"Yes. We're getting married. Again."
And then she laughs, and her heart feels like it's bursting – she doesn't think she's ever been this happy before.
("You know, usually the guy's the one doing the asking."
"Well, I figure you got to do it the first time – might as well let me have my moment of glory this time."
"Actually… You did that the first time around too."
"Really? Do tell…")
vii.
And somewhere, somewhen, their story might end.
But this is not that day.