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Love is Never to Late
Summary-The Hardest thing in life is to watch the one you love… love someone else. But true love will always find a way.
December Twenty-first
5:32 PM
In my old attic bedroom
I meant to do it ages ago, I really did. After all, I, Ron Weasley, full of charm and good looks, am not meant to be alone. But here I stand, a (in my opinion) ripe age of twenty, and I still haven't told Hermione that I love her. But I'm not that worried. I am a natural born procrastinator, so I figure that Hermione must understand from being in school with me all these years…at least I hope she's understand.
Every year since I was fifteen I'd wanted to tell Hermione, but something always-
Suddenly something was chucked wildly at my head, making me topple off my bed and fall head first. As I slowly got up, as I heard two identical laughs.
"Fred!" I shouted, attempting to sound terribly bothered but not succeeding. "George!"
My twin brothers came from the doorway, laughing eccentrically. Some people never change.
"What's this you're writing?" asked George, as he and Fred let themselves into my old bedroom at the burrow. I was just staying for Christmas, before I went back to…well I wasn't sure where I was going to live at the moment. Harry and I used to share a flat, but then Harry had invited Ginny to stay with us-and that was just too peculiar to live with your sister and her fiancé (especially since the embarrassing Christmas incident last year whenever I found them in a compromising situation). So as I was trying to find my own place, I'd also invited Hermione to Christmas this year. Not like we don't always invite her, but I thought it was more forward that I wanted her here this year…I'm determined to finally tell her my feelings.
"Aw, writing our memoirs are we?" said Fred, with my writing in his grubby hands. I snatched it away.
"Yeah, I guess," I said desperately. "Can I please have some privacy?"
"What for?" asked George. "We already know about-"
"Don't say it-"I interrupted.
"Hermione," the twins said in unison.
"Honestly mate, just owl her! 'Dear Hermione, I love you!' How hard is that?" demanded Fred.
"Very!" I said, standing my ground (my new businessman training has overpowered every aspect of my life). "Oh, and you know what? This is none of your business!"
"Aww, very mature," said George. "Hermione will love that attitude."
I threw myself on top of my bed, sighing. Okay. (Maybe I'm not so great with the assertive businessman type attitude just yet). "Are Harry and Ginny here yet?"
"Should be by tonight," said Fred. "Oh, and Hermione is coming tomorrow mate."
"Like I haven't noticed," I grumbled.
"Well, I hope you're ready for her," said George.
I sighed, but as they exited (mum was shouting something about flying pudding), I secretly thought, I hope I am too! I picked up my pen and continue:
Every year since I was fifteen I'd wanted to tell Hermione, but something always GOT IN THE WAY-like Fred and George for instance. Anyways, tomorrow is the day. I will tell Hermione. I will. I will. I will. I will…but then again, what's the rush right?
December twenty-second
12:53 P.M.
Wilkins Road-Flat Number 234
Tenant-Hermione Granger
My feet felt frozen whenever I planted them firmly on the cold hardwood. The snow outside had increased rapidly, and I felt myself longing for Christmas. But every time Christmas came into my mind, as though it were a sly fox finding its way, it always leads to the one thought: The Burrow. Ron sent me an invitation early last week to come and spend Christmas with them, writing politely, "If you don't have any plans."
I didn't.
The Borrow, however, represents much more than just a home. It's a place of love and warmth, and friends and family-and Ron.
My heart beats like a bad ballet, singing:
Ron… who I haven't seen in so long.
Ron… who always made my heart flutter.
Ron… who I secretly dreamt about for years.
I suddenly snap into reality, and think: But it's not Ron that's lying in my bed right now, probably wondering where I am.
I know that's who I wish it was. The person lying there, I mean. It should be Ron. But somehow…it never happened. We never released our feelings. I don't know why. Maybe it was just because we would rather be in love then show it, and risk ruining it. The love was like a prize that I loved possessing…but the mistake I made was, by not showing the love, it only grew colder and more distant…and pretty soon it hurt too much to even look at Ron.
I look over at Richard and feel terribly guilty all the sudden. We've dated roughly for seven months, and I hear daily about just how wonderful he is. My coworkers tell me, after meeting him, of his looks and charm and intelligence…and I know that it's all true. And he really does love me.
But I know I don't really love him.
And it doesn't seem fair to string him along. But it was never fair of Ron Weasley to string me along, either, with the hope that he'll one day speak his mind.
I don't think he's every going to change.
I tell myself that I don't care. That since Richard is going to his parents' vacation home in Hawaii for Christmas I better be on my best behavior.
I force my mind away from Ron, and onto the letter I need to write home. Firstly I told them where I was going to be (though they usually travel for Christmas anyways), and what they could do to reach me. The, I began on the hot topic lately: The wedding of Ginny and Harry! It's going to be in late spring! I wrote, A May wedding. Of course, I'm going to be the maid of honor (after protesting severely that she shouldn't pick me just because she felt I would be upset if I didn't receive the daunting role), and Ron is the best man. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley also play large roles in the wedding, not only because they're Ginny's parents, but Harry felt that he should show them how much they really helped him over the years by showing his gratitude through the wedding. Harry rented a chapel in the country, I continued in the letter, for the entire family to stay for the week. I signed it, "with love, Hermione."
Finally, at nearly two o'clock, I settle back in bed. I'm going to go straight from work to the Weasleys tomorrow, so I double check in my mind that absolutely everything is packed. Richard snuggles up by me, unaware I assume that I was even gone for a short time. I push Ron from my mind for what seems like the millionth time today. Well, let's just say it. I do that everyday.
As I dose off to sleep slowly, I wonder if he'll ever release this spell he's cast on my heart.
And if he ever does...do I even want him to?
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