It was an unusually cold night in Britain, and Ms. Granger wore a dark blue heavy wool coat with a thick cream coloured scarf. She had spent most of her evening diligently filing away old law cases deep in the Ministry of Magic's record rooms. She stayed late again, as she did most nights, to get some extra work finished. Though it always seemed that in the morning that effort was in vain when she counted the number of new cases awaiting on her desk for filing.
It was nearly ten o'clock when she ducked into the familiar pub, known to many as The Leaky Cauldron.
"Evening, Tom," she called as she sat at her usual table.
"You're late," the barmaid, Hannah, chided. "Ginny left hours ago. She said she'd owl you in the morning."
"I figured as much. I just got stuck in the files again, lost track of time. Could I have the usual?"
Hannah set down a Firewhiskey and a bowl of soup before carrying on cleaning tables.
"How are you, Mr. Cratchet?" Hermione asked.
He stared directly at her with wide eyes, but it seemed as if he was looking past her. Mr. Cratchet was a permanent resident of the inn above the Leaky Cauldron. He was an old childhood friend whom the landlord, Tom, had taken in a few years ago. Mr. Cratchet sat in the bar night after night, never saying a word.
"Good? That's lovely. I think you just need some cheering up. How about this weekend we go for a nice stroll in the park, all right?"
She glanced toward the bar, her brown curls bouncing in the direction she moved. A man sat there hunched over with his back to her. He wore a dark grey coat and had a black hat pulled over his head, though she knew that under that hat was a mane of ginger hair. On the counter she was sure there would be a half-drunken glass of gin.
She sighed and said, "Enough of this, Ronald. It's silly, and we're much too old to be sneaking around like this."
The man stiffened, but he did not turn around.
"How long have you known?" he asked.
"Always. You've been following me on and off for months, and honestly, I was hoping you'd tire yourself out enough that you would just stop."
"I'll never stop…I don't think I can. Blimely, I didn't mean for that to sound so creepy…"
"I know," she whispered miserably.
"It doesn't have to be this way, Hermione," he started as he turned to face her. In turn she obstructed her face and became very interested in a small indent in the table.
"We were happy once. We could be happy again. I know I made a mistake, but I promise…"
"You've promised a thousand times, Ron. It doesn't change anything," she shot back.
He recoiled, taken aback by her tone, though at the same time he knew he ought not be surprised.
"I was drunk. You know it didn't…"
"Didn't what? Mean anything? You were always drunk, Ronald. That was the problem. You were drunk more than you were sober," Hermione ranted as she began to gather her things. "And we have had this argument a thousand times. I thought you finally got it through your head that this was over."
She slipped some galleons onto the table and quickly left the empty bar. She turned to Disapparate, but something caught her arm, distracting her. His hand felt warm even through the many layers of clothing. She tried not to enjoy the sensation before throwing it off and walking in the opposite direction.
"I meant what I said before. I'm not going to stop," Ron said as he matched his pace with hers.
Hermione did not tell him off or try to get away this time. Instead they walked in silence until he finally spoke again.
"I heard about your mum. Shit, Hermione, I'm so sorry."
It was a phrase she had heard too often in the past few months, yet this time it stopped her dead in her tracks.
"Please, Ron, don't do this. I can't handle it…" she choked out in a small whisper.
He had expected her to yell, curse, maybe even hex him, but never to react in such a pathetic way, in a manner so out of character.
"She was a lovely woman…"
"No!" she yelled. "THIS IS NOT FAIR. YOU DON'T GET TO ACT LIKE YOU CARE. YOU NEVER CARED."
"Your mum was good to me, and I sure as hell did care!"
"NO YOU DIDN'T. YOU COULDN'T HAVE!"
"I have always cared," he protested as he muttered a charm to dull the sound of her yelling. "I did a crap job at showing it, but you know I always cared."
She watched in awe as he pulled back his coat, revealing a small pin resting on the shiny inside of the jacket. It read: S.P.E.W.
"See? I kept it because I knew it was important to you and because I knew that you threw the rest away. I said to myself 'Ron, one day she'll regret getting rid of those. She's just frustrated now, but one day she'll be sad about it. She will be glad you held onto it' and now I wear it to remind myself of who you are, who I am, and who we are supposed to be together."
Hermione stood with her back to him, her arms wrapped around her slender torso as if she was trying to hold herself together.
"Oh…you stupid, stupid man. It's been three years, Ronald. Why didn't you show me that sooner?"
"Honestly? I didn't think it would make a difference," he laughed, "but if it can get you to change your mind…"
She shook her head.
Slowly, Ron inched toward her, and as soon as he was close enough, he wrapped his arms around her.
"I love you," he whispered. "I'm sorry I don't say that enough. I know I should tell you as often as Harry tells Ginny, but I just…"
"It's okay. I understand," she said, leaning into his embrace. "I really want to forgive you, you know."
"You will in time. Why do you think I've followed you around for so long? Every chance I've had in between missions I've spent making sure you knew I was around, but still giving you space. I just wanted you to know that I'm not giving up because we are supposed to fix this. You are going to forgive me one day, and I want to be around to see it."
"Kiss me," Hermione demanded as she spun around to face him.
He looked very puzzled, but obliged, pressing a light kiss to her forehead.
"That isn't what I meant."
Before he could process what she saying, her lips were on his. Hungry for contact, he responded quickly. Their moves were feverish, rushed, and rough. The amount of space between the pair seemed to be too distant. No matter how hard one clutched the other they still felt so far apart. They had spent so much time away from one another that they actually forgot what being together felt like. Soon Hermione clasped her arms tightly around Ron's neck. His hands slid down to her arse, and he tried desperately to pull her closer.
"Just Apparate already," she begged.
"I'm..uh…a little too distracted I think," he managed to choke out.
"Oh, do I have to do everything?" she groaned as they appeared on her doorstep with a pop.
They stumbled inside, knocking over a coat rack and some plants in the process. Hermione was the first to start removing layers. She yanked off her too warm coat and scarf quickly before slipping Ron's jacket off his shoulders. She went to work on his button-down shirt next.
"Are you sure this is okay?" he asked, breaking the kiss.
The room was dark, but he still caught her curt nod.
Not wasting time, Ron unzipped her dress, and it fell to the ground, pooling at their feet. She wrapped her now freed legs around his waist as he staggered toward the couch.
"I love you," she whispered over and over.