Disclaimer: This fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only and no monetary gain is being made off it. Any violation of trademark and copyright infringement is purely unintentional. The rights belong to its respective member(s) and nothing substantial is being gained from this venture.
A/N: I got this plot bunny from the DFR group on Facebook. I too had this vague idea of a fic taking Ron's POV. Ron has always sort of been ignored in fanfiction. Except for when someone is shipping him. Ron is either bashed or portrayed in a way that leaves a bad impression or worse! No impression at all! I really wanted Ron to break out of that stereotype with this story. I mean sure he isn't as colourful a character as Dumbledore or Snape, or Tom Riddle for that matter, but he's still one of the most important characters in the series!
POV: It's a fiction from Ron's point of view on his and Hermione's and Draco and Hermione's relationship.
I initially thought of writing this as a multi-chaptered fic; however this ended up more effective as just a one-shot. (Read: I was too lazy)
Warnings: Nah, I'm just typing this to increase my word count. Okay, I don't know how far I've got Ron's character right because I didn't write this in one go. So. some OoCness may be there.
Timeline: 1990-2005. Oh, the timeline zip-zap-zoom just one time, you'll have to pay attention.
Characters: Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Ginny Weasley, the Weasley clan.
Hopefully you'll all like this little bit!
So there you go!
And I used one of Rizzle's titles 'Saving Grace'
Thank You, Oh wonderful, wonderful Rizzle. ;)
P.S. I simply did not have the heart to remain faithful to The Deathly Hallows, so Fred isn't dead. JOY TO THE WORLD. Don't you just LOVE the Weasley twins?
Happy Reading!
Saving Grace
"Will you marry me?"
His left knee, with which he was presently kneeling down upon the wooden floorboard, was throbbing painfully accompanied by a persistent itch caused by a carelessly engineered nail head poking out from between them. He tried shifting his knee and felt a fresh wave of pain shoot up his bent leg.
Ron had half the mind to pull out his wand and cast a cushioning charm underneath. But that would surely ruin the moment.
Talking of the present moment...
It didn't help that the object of his affection was glancing around nervously; looking anywhere but at him, she looked like she was under the weather. He couldn't remember her looking like this since their 'road trip' after sixth year.
And what with the entire Weasley clan being present, scrutinising his every move and his mother giving him the occasional smile of encouragement hardly worked in his favour to soothe his currently frazzled nerves. Moreover, a look of sympathy and a nod of encouragement from his Mum meant he was blowing it up bad. He simply couldn't muster up the nerve to take a look at the rest of his family. Well, so much for being a Gryffindor.
Bloody hell.
And what the hell was wrong with her?
He was much more confident destroying Horcruxes in the middle of the night in forests. Who'd have known that something as simple as proposing to one's long time girlfriend would feel like seventh year all over again?
To be honest, it looked rather easy when Harry did it. Hadn't he taken enough notes?
"Mione..." he started uncertainly shifting his weight gingerly, this time Hermione snapped her head around to look at him. Her eyes reflected rampant feelings of insecurity that he felt washing over him in unforgiving waves. He silently pleaded with her, his apprehensive cornflower blue eyes trained on uncharacteristically perplexed pools of warm brown, willing her to answer him.
Or maybe she's gone off the deep end after all...
"I..." she began, hesitation etched in her voice. Ron knew she was weighing her words, apparently confused.
Merlin, save him!
Distantly he wondered if the signals he'd been sending for the past few months hadn't been obvious enough. He had deliberately left the paper bag from the jewellery store in her side of the wardrobe. He'd even made it a point to stare at the baby witches' and wizard's collection on exhibit whenever they walked past any clothing unit or shopped at Madame Malkins and Titwit and Tatting's. Most importantly, he had skipped a Chudley Cannons quarter final match (can you even imagine?) only to be present at a muggle wedding of one of her cousin's in France.
Who cared if the team fell short with 300 points? It was only because Puddlemere United played dirty.
He'd never forget that smug look on Draco Malfoy's face when Harry went over and the two congratulated each other. The fact that his best friend had secretly supported Puddlemere United was a betrayal worse than that of Harry being on friendly terms with the Malfoy heir.
Ron knew Hermione was too far from being thick-headed. She was sufficiently attuned to him and not to mention smart enough to read between the lines, or between 'actions' in his case.
Now, for the first time, after months of dropping 'subtle' hints here and there Ron was dreading what was to come. He watched her pat her long, waist length curls-a sure sign of her being jittery and was about to ask her once more when she finally replied, much to his immense relief.
"Y-Yes"
With an audible sigh, Ron slipped the modest love band in her proffered finger and stood up to encase her in a long hug. Drawing back to celebratory whoops and congratulations he kissed her on the forehead watching her give him a shaky smile which he happily returned.
That was when he remembered the annoying pain was still present in his knee.
There really wasn't anything he could achieve that hadn't already been taken care of by his brothers.
Charlie had been Head Boy and captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Bill had a perfect score in Charms and Ancient Runes in his N.E. , Perfect Percy was made prefect and he obviously had at least five Oustandings in his O. . Fred and George were not only immensely popular with the Gryffindors but with the entire school, the teachers and even the Slytherins! On top of that they fared pretty decently in their tests.
The only thing Ron felt he was passionate about was Quidditch.
That was before he met Harry Potter on the train to Hogwarts and discovered the secret life underneath invisibility cloaks and unending mysteries involving notorious Dark Lords.
The boys had hit it off pretty much instantaneously, where Ron had been curious about The Boy Who Lived and muggle London and Harry, it seemed was equally fascinated with him; Another first for Ron.
Ron relaxed against the back of an armchair, sighing contentedly while his best mate and his brothers took their seats around him.
"I'd never thought I would see this day!" Bill Weasley quipped teasingly, wrapping an arm around his pregnant wife.
"Me neither." Fleur nodded, flashing a good natured smile.
"Well we assumed Ickle Ronniekins would start blabbering just like he did with Posey." Fred winked.
"And start to spill things," George added. While the Weasley siblings guffawed, the joke was lost on Harry.
"Who's Posey?"
Ron rolled his eyes, "It's just a story they made up to tease me"
"Is that right?" Charlie supplied, winking one blue eye, "As far as I remember you were pretty whipped."
While the Weasley siblings and in-laws descended into merry laughter once again, Harry turned to Ron,
"Congratulations mate." He grinned, his bottle green eyes shining with sincerity.
Ron only smiled in answer and found himself to be glad for millionth time that Harry was his best friend.
"It looks like some kind of cloak. Go ahead and try it on."
Harry complied and Ron gasped, awestruck.
"That's and invisibility cloak!"
"A what-?" Harry said, puzzled before turning to look at himself in the full length mirror. His eyes widened to epic proportions as he took in the image of his body, now invisible from neck below.
The perks of being best friend to Harry Potter had been endless. And now the novelty of sharing a real invisibility cloak was something Ron was impatient to boast about at home. He absolutely could not wait to see Fred and George's envious expressions!
From the very beginning Ron had found her to be an absolute pain in the arse know-it-all who, as he had previously pointed out, needed "to sort out her priorities"
He noticed how she made it a point to interfere in everyone's business and took pleasure in railing about her annoying habits with Harry. Sometimes Harry would join in with him, the other times he'd simply put up with hearing out what Ron had to say as he was too busy being in awe of Hogwarts and its ways.
It had taken a rogue Troll, hours in the library and a few life-risking adventures with the bush-haired witch in a short span of a year for him to finally become friends with her.
They were between twelve to thirteen years of age when Ron realized that Hermione meant as much to him as Harry did, if not more.
When Hermione was petrified by a Basilisk he came to the realisation that he had grown rather used to her company and she surely wasn't as annoying as he thought. He heartily enjoyed those games of Wizard's chess which Hermione (much to her annoyance) could never win against him or Harry. Outwardly encouraging her, inside, Ron would be very pleased that there was something he was best at amongst the three (Not that he was ever saying that out loud).
However, it was only when that git Malfoy called her a 'mudblood' that made him see red. Ron's first instinct was to hit Malfoy so hard so as to wife that smug look off his pale face. Unfortunately, his chance at glory was cruelly stolen away by his willow-whomped wand that he had sellotaped ruefully.
So what if she was a muggle born? Malfoy of all people could go on and bitch behind her sitting on their sorry pure blood arses. Hermione was clearly much more intelligent than all of Malfoy's cronies put together.
Besides, it was simply a very foul thing to say to anyone. Only, it was unfortunate that he couldn't make Malfoy vomit slugs.
That particular spell was simply ghastly. He would have to have a word with Fred.
By their third year, the "Golden Trio", as the three of them were now known, had become accustomed with the assortment of 'adventures and escapades' swiftly become a part of their regular school years. For them, it wasn't out of the ordinary to come face to face with werewolves or murderers, after all, weren't these the 'struggles' every teenager went through?
Ron had known, right from the time when he'd seen Harry's infamous scar on the Hogwarts Express that his life would be nothing short of fantastical and dangerous from then. But it was his best friend's immense courage and kind heart that Ron and Hermione agreed, compelled them to stick by him for as long as they lived.
With the start of another school term, the news that mass murderer Sirius Black was at large loomed over them, they'd returned to Hogwarts to a flock of Dementors guarding the school and a clearly unhappy Headmaster who had carefully explained the dire situation that had facilitated the necessity of taking such actions.
Ron found himself looking for Hermione on more than one occasion when she wasn't present with them. He found that his mind was equally occupied with thoughts about Hermione as it was about Harry.
In between extra classes, Hogsmead visits and Hermione's attending multiple lessons mysteriously. He had begun to see Hermione in a completely different light when she had impulsively grabbed his arm in Care of Magical Creatures that day when Hagrid was encouraging Harry to become acquainted with a blasted hippogriff he fondly called 'Buckbeak'
At least it wasn't a hungry three headed Cerberus called 'fluffy' or the horrible, horrible spiders that crawled in the Forbidden Forest. He felt his skin crawl recalling that particular night of his second year.
Maybe it was the hormones?
The real treat of that memorable year had been bearing witness to an extremely angry Hermione punch the big-headed bastard of a Malfoy right in his face and to see him cower in alarm under her wand point. Oh the joys to hearing Malfoy's bones crack.
With the year drawing to a close, the expected crop of 'adventure' soon reared its head and Ron, Harry and Hermione had found themselves hot on pursuit of Sirius Black in Hogsmead town only to find out in a dramatic chain of events thereafter that Sirius Black was actually his best friend's wrongly convicted godfather with Harry's best interests at heart. Professor Lupin had turned out to be a werewolf and Peter Pettigrew, Ron's harmless pet rat was certainly not 'Scabbers' and the actual culprit responsible in relaying the location of Lily and James Potter's hideout.
The four of them had been best friends in their Hogwarts days along with Harry's father. And that Sirius Black, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew were unregistered animagi.
Ron had been driven speechless (which was something that happened a lot) by the knowledge of those events for the greater part of the Holiday's after that.
He knew he should have mustered up the courage and asked her out for the ball the moment he saw her descend down the staircase in her blue periwinkle dress. The only thought that was on his mind then, was:
She's beautiful.
Ron never thought her to be unpleasant on the eyes; it was just hard to tell what with her large school robes, unflattering muggle wear and her nest of curls perpetually obscuring the greater part of her face.
Seeing her with Viktor Krum had confirmed what he doubted.
"Why don't you get over with it already and snog Viktor Krum" Ron snipped when Harry wasn't paying attention, enunciating the Quidditch star's name bitterly.
Hermione had looked at him in part befuddlement and part disbelief. "What is your problem Ron?"
When he had grunted incomprehensibly, embarrassment colouring his face, she had been irate.
"The next time you want to ask someone out. Just ask, Ronald"
Maybe it was because they were speaking in hushed tones that Hermione sounded so cross.
With that, she had stormed out of the Great Hall, leaving a puzzled Harry and his face turning into the colour of his house.
Call it the newness of teenage romance or the childish notion of first love, Ron had known, since then that she meant much more to him than he initially realized and going by her reaction, he too, meant more to her than she let on.
That was also the first time he had seen Malfoy take the longest look at her.
The last thing was what had infuriated him the most.
Amidst the ear-splitting ruckus of Gryffindor celebrating their victory over Ravenclaw, with the Quidditch and the house cups virtually theirs, Ron almost went numb with shock when Lavender Brown attacked him to snog him in full audience.
Most importantly, he failed to notice his bushy haired admirer leaving the common room with red eyes.
He had known it then.
When the effects of the dreamless sleep draught began wearing out and his eyes opened to the white ceiling of the utilitarian room, Ron had known.
In a distant he could hear Dumbledore talking to Horace Slughorn about the poisoned wine. Harry was saying something about a bezoar and Snape looked surprised. But he could hardly bring himself to care when she was holding his hand. Her eyes wide with relief and worry. For him.
That was when he had known that it was always her.
Hermione.
He thought, feeling his chest fill up with warmth.
It'll always be Hermione.
"Ron..."
He hardly heard her whisper over the rush of water in the background, but his mind was only occupied by this.
Her warm brown eyes. Her lips edging towards his. Her voice calling out to him.
Only him and no one else.
For Ron, nothing compared to the hardships faced during their Horcrux hunt. The venom that had slithered into his psyche because of that vile piece of soul had almost destroyed what the three of them had built carefully through the years.
It had been catharsis in the truest sense when he sliced through that with Gryffindor's sword.
But in the end, all that mattered was that it was all over for good.
And that Hermione was in his arms, kissing him. And there would be a lifetime of such moments and no evil psychopath hindering their lives. No more darkness. No fear of death.
No one to poison his mind against his best mate and his love.
Remus had been right; this was indeed the best gift the Order could give to Wizarding London.
Maybe this was what they'd all been fighting for. This feeling of being at peace. At last.
If so, then the war had been well worth it.
The days preceding their much sensationalised break-up had been the worse.
With Fred and George occupying his Ministry granted apartment in Diagon Alley, Ron had gladly moved in with Hermione (Without his mother's knowledge of course). The first few months of their cohabitation could only be described as – bliss.
They had been madly, irrevocably, unconditionally in love. They would do everything together, the dishes, the dinner (which mostly ended up burnt or half-cooked). Hermione would persuade him to sit through muggle movies with her (which he quite enjoyed with her curled up against him) and she would accompany him to every Cannons game and then buy him chocolate frogs every time the team lost, simply to cheer him up.
Hermione would happily take off from work once a while to spend time with him and he would do the same. And boy, he would've never believed than she was such an impassioned being had he not been with her. For him, being with her felt like it was his first time all over again (which wasn't necessarily a good thing now that he knew better).
Then, just like all good things came to an end, cracks began to appear.
In the beginning, it didn't occur to either of them that the perception of a perfect world in which they lived happily ever after, was vastly different from what their reality demanded.
He was used to bickering with Hermione. That was a natural part of their relationship; it was what they'd been doing ever since they first met on the Hogwarts Express when they'd been eleven years old. But this was uncharted territory for Ron.
Lately they seemed to get into a fight over anything and everything, from trivial things like who left the keys lying around carelessly to why the cereals were left outside the cupboard and who put more effort in order to make them work.
He wouldn't have bothered if these were their usual quarrels followed by great make-up sex. But that wasn't the case.
Not this time around.
Recently they'd taken to cold-shouldering one another, at first Ron assumed it was because Hermione was too busy with her extremely demanding job at the department of Magical Law Enforcement, but he soon realised that she was deliberately avoiding him. Consequently, he did the same. Their method of avoidance gradually paved way for absolute silence.
They never tried talking to each other because that had become the least they could do to avoid a row. As of late, anything one of them mistakenly uttered would result in a fierce verbal sparring that more often than not escalated into full blown screaming matches with Hermione stomping off to Harry and Ginny's, leaving Ron alone to fend for himself.
Soon, he started feeling apprehensive of any kind of run-in with his fiancé and took matters into his own hands. The result of which was Hermione's apartment being occupied by either of them at a particular point in time. That way they would never meet and the inevitable confrontation would be put off for as long as possible.
The way Hermione completely closed off, didn't escape Ron's notice. He hated the way he had to pretend everything was perfect at the frequent family brunches and dinners, neither did he fail to notice the coldness of her lips and the aloofness in her eyes every single time they were forced to kiss, just so things would look alright and his family wouldn't suspect anything.
Ron had expected that one of them would eventually come around and everything would be sorted out. That, one fine day the both of them would wake up to a common revelation, apologize and get on with things. Realizing how stupid they'd been. But neither of the two wanted to be the first and that fine day never came.
It was only a while before Hermione took to staying away the nights at Grimmauld Place or at her parent's saying she was too tired to get to their apartment which was further away because there had been a lot of work she had taken care of.
That's when the drinking started.
One evening when Ron was feeling particularly lonely that Seamus and Dean from his Hogwarts days dropped by to invite his "sorry moping arse" for a few rounds of firewhiskey.
It didn't take long for the habit to kick in, what with his fiancé hardly staying with him and his non-existent sex life. Ron found it was easier and much more pleasing to drown himself in his glasses and bottles in order to do away with his crisis; in no way did he want to be the first to start a confrontation and have his ears fall off due to the screaming contest that was sure to follow.
If anything, the gulf between them was slowly but steadily widening.
The first time Ron found Hermione at home in weeks was during Harry and Ginny's second honeymoon.
"Harry and Ginny are out." she had explained, stepping daintily out of the fireplace.
"Alright" was all he had managed.
Distantly a part of Ron's inebriated brain registered that this was the first semblance of a polite conversation they had had in months. He wondered whether it was the alcohol or did she really have tears in her eyes, she looked to be smiling a little too. Then she stepped closer to him and the warmth in her eyes was replaced mild shock.
"You've been drinking again."
Did her voice waver?
No.
Oh, it certainly was the alcohol.
Then they'd quietly gone back to playing their previous game of avoidance. However, this time there was an odd sense of finality to their hasty goodbye's and sloppier attempts at rekindling the romance. But Ron knew that neither wanted to be the first to give up on the relationship.
It was a fateful night when Ron didn't manage to return to the apartment that sealed the fate of their relationship.
When in the early hours of the next morning he had staggered up the stairs and slumped into the apartment, he had encountered a worried looking Hermione and a spread of freshly made breakfast.
Finally, he thought with a smile unaware that he was too drunk to actually smile, things will fall into place.
It was when he had stepped closer and Hermione was ready to hold him did he remember why he was out the whole night.
No words where required. None needed to be exchanged. He saw Hermione's eyes grow wide in horror quick to be coloured in disappointment soon to be dulled by defeat.
He knew no amount of explaining would do. He knew she had noticed the tell-tale love bruise on his throat.
She didn't say a word, simply stepped forward with tears threatening to fall from her eyes and planted a sharp, stinging slap across his face and began to leave him to eat his cold breakfast. He snapped.
"Bloody hell, Hermione, what-"
"Shut up. Shut UP! I've had enough!" Hermione shouted covering her ears with her small palms. "I'm not going to put up with your erratic lifestyle "she choked and, "certainly not with you when you're off with another woman..." the tears finally fell from her eyes.
Ron felt an odd sort of vindication creep up his chest, mixed with absolute shame, but his ego took over and he retorted.
"Get a move on. I could care less!"
At that Hermione dried her eyes and looked at him with a coldness that he didn't know she possessed.
"I think I will." She hissed, before summoning her wand from the dining table and taking off to her room and slamming the door in his face.
Ron touched his cheek and winced at the sharp pain that was still present. He knew for certain that he wasn't the only one who wouldn't sleep that night.
When Ron woke up the next morning, he had a bad feeling in his stomach. The day was a beautiful one but he couldn't shake off the feeling of foreboding that surrounded him. One step outside the bedroom and his world turned upside down.
Hermione was sitting on the couch, wearing her dark brown cloak and levitating her belongings in neat piles in cartons.
Ron had felt his chest twinge tightly and his eyes burn when the guilt hit him full force.
"Mione' please, I swear I-I can explain..."
She had looked at him with incredulity and regret marring her bright eyes. But then she had smiled and it had been the most heartbreaking thing he'd ever seen.
She'd stepped in front of him and placed a whisper of a kiss on his cheek.
Then she'd taken several steps back and stopped moving for several minutes, looking at him with tears in her eyes, as if waiting for him to stop her from leaving. He hadn't tried.
Shrinking the boxes and pocketing them in her travelling cloak she exhaled audibly turning her back on him.
"Ron" the finality in her clipped tone chilled his already shambled heart. "There's nothing left to explain."
He almost didn't hear her say it.
It was all she had said before apparating away with a resounding crack.
Much like them, their ways of coping were poles apart.
Ron, for his part, became a regular at The Hog's Head and in Madame Rosmerta's bed coupled with an occasional trip to Knockturn Alley while Hermione immersed herself further in work reaping brilliant results, keeping herself shut away in Muggle London.
All said and done, it most likely would have been much easier had the Daily Prophet not been in existence. Needless to say, the media made it all look terribly ugly. Driving the wedge deeper and destroying any little chance of them to even be on speaking terms.
That very Friday, back in the Burrow, he heard from Harry who'd come for a quick visit that Hermione had left indefinitely for Paris.
She hadn't even stopped by to say goodbye.
"To get some uninterrupted research done on a Ministry project", Ginny had explained, glaring pointedly at her youngest brother.
Typical Hermione
"Mate, are you sure you and Mione' will sort this out? The wedding's in two weeks!"
"Harry, I'm sure it's my idiot brother who started this!" his sister had stated bluntly.
There's nothing left to explain.
There wouldn't be any wedding, that much was for sure, he had thought before breaking the same news to and extremely indignant best friend and a largely let down little sister.
The severe disappointment in Harry and Ginny's eyes were the worst.
There's nothing left to explain...
That was the first time it had dawned on him that their relationship was truly beyond repair and he found himself wondering when things had gotten this bad.
In hindsight, he realized that the faults had always been present between them, threatening to widen. The cracks were simply glossed over by the apparent bliss of their post-war existence which had steadily come apart.
There's nothing left to explain.
"Marry me."
A mere statement spelled out oh-so-casually. Not even fashioned into a polite question about one of the most important decisions of her life.
Arrogant prick
He looked at Draco Malfoy, kneeling on the floorboard on his left knee, his right hand holding up an obviously expensive, towards Hermione, a smirk on his pale face.
That idiot was gloating!
Stupid git.
He knew Hermione to be one of those few girl's who wouldn't be impressed with expensive jewellery, heirloom or not. He had the sudden urge to transfigure Draco sodding Malfoy into a ferret and trample him underneath his foot.
Maybe she had changed?
He felt an odd sense of déjà-vu slowly creep up to him.
Ron absently wondered whether the nail head was poking Malfoy's pure blood knee and wished that it was the case. Yes, he thought evilly, that would do some serious good to that ferret's annoying attitude.
He knew he was being utterly immature, after all hadn't he been the one to ask her to get a move on? He knew he really hadn't meant it. But what Ron didn't count on was the possibility that Hermione was only waiting for him to accept what she already knew, that it was finally over between them. And that there was nothing left to salvage from their virtually non-existent relationship.
It had taken years for him to finally grasp where they had gone wrong and it had been too late, for an extremely happy Hermione had finally come back after five years to settle in Wizarding London with none other than Draco Malfoy in tow.
It went without saying that initially, everyone had been teetering on the edge with Malfoy around. His reputation was still somewhat questionable as he had simply disappeared after getting acquitted and was never heard of until now.
But with in mere weeks of his return to London and very much against Ron's consternation and utter disbelief, public scepticism gave way to general acceptance. It was because Harry Potter had warmed up to his presence and Malfoy soon became another unofficial member of the Weasley household.
Of all the ironies.
Oh how he abhorred every time he would have to witness that ferrety git paw his ex-fiancé and steal kisses from her. He hated the way Hermione's eyes involuntarily kept seeking Malfoy every time he wasn't near her and the way they sought out one another, the close proximity with which they always moved around.
He never missed the way Malfoy would whisper into her ears and make her go Gryffindor red or the fact that they never only ate at the table.
It had become some sort of an inside joke that if one needed to find Hermione, one need only find Malfoy and vice versa.
Very soon he was torn between deciding what disgusted him more, the fact that he'd come across Malfoy practically dry humping Hermione whenever and wherever possible, that Malfoy was present in his home two days a week or that the news of Molly Weasley walking in on them when they were at 'it' was discussed with such fevered enthusiasm, like it was a sign that everything was just perfect in this world...
"Ah, young love", his mother would say going all teary eyed before scolding them to get a bit of privacy.
Ron only wanted to throw up.
Maybe they had been better off as best friends. Now that they had been over for a couple of years Ron couldn't help but notice how their faulty relationship had gravely affected their previous friendship.
Hermione had been the unofficial mediator between him and Harry, right from their first year at school and especially during their brief fallout at the Triwizard tournament. The most responsible of the three, she had been the brains and backbone of the trio's friendship. She was the balanced one.
It was true that with all of them now well past their adolescence they had shed their naiveté and grown up to be sensible-or as sensible as one in their mid twenties could be. Hermione's duties as the unofficial mediator had as a consequence ceased to exist. But given the history the three shared, it was getting difficult to get along with two of the three at constant odds with each other.
Ron missed her terribly, he was still in the process of realizing that he should've tried a little more instead of approaching her in his insipid state of drunkenness and not asked her 'to get a move on', the very next day they crossed paths.
He knew there wasn't any bitterness between them as far as he was concerned, just profound regret on his conscience and an awkwardness of a failure on her part.
They were trying really, really hard to piece back their old rapport bit by bit, for instance she had graciously volunteered to remodel his room and bought him his favourite ice-cream when she went shopping for baby Lily Luna Potter with Ginny, and he in turn gladly picked up the books she had ordered from Flourish and Blotts and they had shared some quiet time in a cafe.
For Ron, this was a huge leap as it was not even a few weeks ago that they couldn't stay alone in a room for five minutes without the conversation taking a turn for the worse.
"You alright there, mate?" his best friend asked gently with a pat on his shoulder, effectively bringing him out of his reverie.
"Yeah..."Ron managed vaguely with a decidedly weak smile and nodded; Harry looked unconvinced but thankfully didn't push the matter.
Ron returned his gaze to the 'it' couple of the evening, his eyes briefly surveying Draco Malfoy before resting on the woman he had come to love beyond reason. Even after their severe incompatibilities and the glaring obvious that they would've been gravely unhappy together, the truth stood thus, Ron could never quite stop loving her, no matter what.
He probably would never understand what it was about Malfoy that swept Hermione away, and he wasn't trying to any time soon. The mere thought of trying to associate Malfoy with some good qualities was in itself an exhausting thought. However, Ron deigned to admit it that he was slowly beginning to enjoy Malfoy's wicked sense of humour.
When he chanced another look at Hermione's warm pools of brown, she was holding Malfoy's ice-gray stare; he noticed, with a pang that there wasn't any sort of hesitation. She was only drawing out the moment.
Her cheeks were flushed prettily and she was smiling - a smile that foretold just how sure she was with Malfoy. Ron remembered her smiling like that when Harry finally returned to the dilapidated Great Hall after defeating Voldemort for good. He remembered her smiling like that when Harry had risen up to the responsibility of forming the Dumbledore's Army.
She had never looked at him like that. Maybe once, when they'd successfully destroyed Hufflepuff's cup in the Chamber of Secrets.
"Yes", she whispered at length. "I will".
"Yes?" Malfoy asked, apparently thrilled.
"Yes, yes, YES!" she yelled and jumped him.
He watched as Malfoy smiled-a real smile for the very first time, and simultaneously scooped her up in his arms in triumph, both of them tumbling to the floor without a care and proceeding to snog each other senseless like there was no tomorrow and in full audience to thunderous applause.
Ron felt his heart squeeze
They truly were over, weren't they?
He saw her blush deep when they parted, before giving in and returning his kiss with an abandon that he never knew she possessed. She had always been in control-almost reserved, around him.
He heard his family and friends whoop and clink glasses in merriment while congratulating the couple. He watched Harry exchange a meaningful smile with his pregnant sister before he went on to thump Malfoy on the back. He saw James grinning and little Albus Severus Potter trying to comprehend what his Aunt Hermione and Uncle Draco were up to.
He watched as a jubilant Malfoy pulled away from a positively glowing Hermione only to kiss her once more before bending down to lift Albus up in his arms while Hermione bent down to chat with James;
"They would make the perfect parents" his mother had once observed, Ron recalled scathingly.
He saw a glee riddled Ginny plant a peck on her husband's cheek while the rest of the family broke into good-humoured catcalls.
And for the first time in his life, Ron Weasley felt completely estranged from his family.
He realized it was because he was the lone one disgruntled with the engagement. Ron closed his eyes for a brief moment, willing the emotions away he vaguely registered that he was the only one left to offer congratulations. Well, that would have to wait as the task needed some firewhiskey.
With that thought in mind he made his way to the kitchen store, the sound of celebration fading behind him.
What Hermione essentially did was save people, that intrinsic quality of hers was what made her so admirable, so brilliant and so incredibly just, so Gryffindor. She had been his saving grace in more than one occasion, she had encouraged him to break out from the expectations thrust upon him, helped him to become Ron Weasley and not 'Harry Potter's sidekick'. Together with her he had realized there was much more to being friends with Harry Potter than just trying to keep up with people's expectations. She had put faith in him and he had understood that each one was always special no matter what.
But it was time to let her go.
Perhaps Malfoy needed a chance to be saved now, more than him at least, and he was sure that Hermione was Draco's only hope.
"Hey, I've been looking all over the place for you"
It was Amelia Bones from the Leaky Cauldron. She came around and slipped a slender pair of arms around Ron's neck.
"Have you been drinking again?" she asked accusingly, smiling a little.
"Ames, no...I"
"Good, I was counting on you not to." she cut him short, whispering against his neck.
"Er...?"
"You still love her, don't you?" she asked softly.
Who, Hermione?
"I'm sorry...what? Who're you talking about?" he blurted.
"Ron...you know who I'm referring to..." she trailed off.
Yes? Yes. Yes I do.
"I think someone needs a drink." Ron countered playfully, closing one of his arms around her waist and kissing her nose.
"Hah. Gotcha, I was only kidding" the blonde winked, bursting into a fit of giggles. But Ron didn't miss the flash of hurt in her sky blue eyes.
Ron wasn't a big believer nor was he a non-believer in things like 'all things eternal'; he never gave that kind of stuff much thought.
After all he had much important things to do – such as catch the Chudley Cannons at the international league.
Maybe he just needed to bloody well grow up! Hermione was his best friend after all.
Maybe there was something at work here, something unknown, bigger than all of them that had a way of affecting people's lives.
"Hey Weasley" Malfoy greeted, poking his head around the door frame, his eyes caught sight of Amelia and he smirked smugly in understanding, "...busy?"
"Erm..."
"Of course not, I'll leave you alone, gentlemen." Amelia winked at Ron, "Later"
When the door had clicked shut behind Malfoy, he walked over to Ron, sitting down on one of the benches with his back to him.
For a long moment they remained silent.
"Mione' sent you?" Ron asked hesitantly, his voice perfectly level apart from the almost unnoticeable waver.
He heard Malfoy sigh before turning to face him.
"I'll not lie, Weasley," he started, "Hermione-", Ron mentally cringed at how Malfoy smiled fondly at her name, "-wants us to make...'amends'" he said shoving a hand towards him to shake, all the while grimacing.
"She's crazy" Ron snorted, taking Malfoy's hand out of courtesy.
"Utterly" Malfoy added, grinning.
"Tell me about it." Ron grinned back surprised that he really didn't have to pretend any more. Not around Malfoy at least.
Or maybe Harry was right, maybe Malfoy was a changed man. It wasn't as if he fired hexes at them any more.
And maybe, just maybe Hermione was always meant to be his saving grace.
I'm really sorry, I started writing this when I was reaaaally into Dramione, but then in the middle of completing this I sort of began shipping Drarry. And it's been next to impossible writing them together as a couple. But after Drarry I just can't. Just. Can't. Love any other ship. So this has been a half-hearted attempt. Intel is welcome! I'll edit and accommodate all your suggestions for this fic. Please help!
Oh, just to make this clear, 'his' in bold in the last line is Ron referring to Draco.
So there you have it. And yes, there shouldn't be any confusion, but if there is please feel no reservations to PM me!
I think it drags a bit.
Review darlings! They're (here we go again) LOVE!
(IKR we're always desperately begging for R&R but ya know! It's one of the perks of being anonymous.)