The Beginning
Songfic of You Don't Know Me by Michael Bublé. Enjoy.
The cool breeze blew a chunk of his red hair into his eyes. I need a haircut, Ron thought absently, running a hand through his hair to push out the tangles. He was nervous. Today he would tell her.
Tell her what? That he liked her? More than she liked him? That he loved her, God forbid?
Deep breaths, he reminded himself. No need to hyperventilate before she'd even arrived.
He was sitting on a bench in a park a few blocks from the Ministry. There were Muggle children screaming and laughing on the playground, even though it was windy and overcast.
Ron checked his watch. It was just a minute till ten o'clock. Their meeting time. He was early, he knew. But he'd wanted it that way—just in case she was early. And besides, it gave him time to collect his thoughts.
As another minute passed by, he inspected his clothes. He'd picked them carefully only an hour before, standing in front of the closet in his flat. A clean t-shirt, jeans, sneakers. Ron wished he'd grabbed a jacket before he'd left. The mid-spring air was cool today. In spite of his attempts at rubbing his arms for warmth, there were goose bumps making his freckles stand out even more. Oh well. It was too late now.
Ron smiled as he saw her walk up the sidewalk toward his bench. He gave a short wave.
She wore a pair of dark jeans and a sweater under a light beige trench coat, and smiled back at him. Her russet hair, unbound, blew around her face but settled a bit when she lowered herself to the bench next to Ron.
"Hermione…hi," he said breathlessly.
"How are you?" She kissed him on the cheek in greeting. "I haven't seen you in ages!"
"I'm good, how've you been?"
"Great. Work's been busy, you know."
Ron nodded, wishing he could wrap his arm around her shoulder. "Definitely."
She watched the children playing, a smile on her lips.
He watched her, smiling at having her so close. Her perfume was intoxicating, making him grin idiotically.
"Really, Ron. What's up? How's work? The school?"
The school was the side-project Ron had been working on outside of his job at the Ministry for nearly a year. It was a Quidditch academy that taught young wizards the game and some very, very basic magic pre-Hogwarts. It really put his love of the game to good use.
"It's good. I've finally got the permits and the support of the minister, so we can start digging."
Hermione smiled, settling back on the bench, sliding her hands in her pockets and crossing her legs. "It's exciting isn't it? Having purpose like that?"
Ron nodded, admitting. "Definitely a long way from my Hogwarts' days."
She didn't answer, but continued to watch a group of small girls play house under a jungle gym.
"Do you want to go for a walk?" he blurted out. He couldn't sit still for any longer, not when she much pent-up energy pressed on the inside of his skin making every moment he was still hell. He wanted to kiss her so badly.
She agreed and they left the park, beginning the corner passing shops of clothes and cheesy Big Ben souvenirs.
Hermione took his arms as to not loose him in the crowd. Ron's arm began to tingle uncontrollably.
They walked around the blocks, not talking. Eventually they made it to the ministry entrance. They stood under an awning, out of the currents of people hurrying from place to place. As he faced her, Ron felt light and happy. He would tell her.
"Hermione, I have to tell you something. I love you. I always have." His heart slammed out a beat so loud he thought the whole city could hear it.
Her breath caught in her throat and she couldn't answer him.
Ron watched as unshed tears stood out in her eyes, making the warm brown infinitely shining and sad. Instantly, he pulled her into his arms. Her tears spilled onto his shirt.
Hermione felt safe folded in Ron's arms and she knew she didn't deserve it. But she did love him, more than he would ever know. But know it was too late.
When the tears had stopped, she stepped back and wiped her face. "I'm sorry," she laughed nervously.
"I love you," he said again. God, he wanted her to say it back.
Another tear slid down Hermione's cheek. "I love you too. So much," her voice managed. "Always have. And I never said anything…"
They both smiled. Ron kissed her, sliding his hands under her hair to support her head. They kissed more, in front of everyone on the street, completely unself-conscious.
When they stopped, Hermione pulled back from him. "Ron, I can't do this. I'm so sorry."
His brown drew in. "Why? What's wrong?"
"I'm engaged. It's too late." You're too late.
His heart that had felt so light only a moment before was clamped into spiked chains and torn in half. He couldn't say anything.
"Harry and I, we're getting married. He loves me." She said the last part like it was a question.
"So you love me but you're going back to him?" Ron was practically out of his mind. He wasn't yelling, but he wanted to. His whole body ached with grief.
"I promised Harry my heart. I have to keep my promise."
Tears pricked Ron's eyes. "Do you love him?"
"Yes. Or I did."
"Do you love me?"
"Yes. I love both of you." She reached for his hand but Ron drew back.
His voice and eyes were racked with pain.
Hermione didn't answer.
Angry and hurt, Ron could feel his teeth grinding together. His chest was being ripped apart like it was the day the war ended. He didn't know if he could lose her again.
Her voice came like a ghost in his ear as she kissed his cheek. "I can't choose." And she was gone, disappeared into the crowd.
Later Ron sat at the kitchen table in the shabby apartment, his head resting in his hands. He stared at the floor, unable to do anything. He hadn't gone to work today.
He had really thought she'd choose him. He really had. He had thought he knew her, and she him. And now he felt broken in two. The familiar part of him that wanted to move on; and the part that couldn't.
He didn't react when his phone rang. The ring sounded tinny and strange to his ears. It could be that he never used it. Or that he didn't want anything to be familiar to him anymore. Those were what disappointed him.
The answering machine picked up the call.
"Hi, Ron. Sorry to call so late. I was worried about you. Did you get the invitation? I sent it in the Muggle mail—I thought you would send an owl away. Not that you don't deserve to… And I wanted to say I'm sorry. So so sorry. Please don't hate Harry because of this." And she was silent but Ron could hear her breathing into the receiver. "I love you, Ron. Please believe that." When the line went dead, a red light blinked to indicate the new message.
Feeling dead himself, Ron picked up the heavy parchment on the table. It was nicely cut, written in loopy calligraphy, and decorated with a gold ribbon.
You're cordially invited to the wedding of Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, it read.
Ron couldn't say a word.
Hello all. Thanks so much for reading. I hope you liked it. This is the beginning of the 'betrayal' stint that I love so much. The Ron-Hermione-Harry one. Please review! 3Ali