A/N: For Fiori Omega's Unhappy Valentine's Day Challenge. Can be stand-alone but I do recommend reading my story A Matter of Comparison, either before or after it really doesn't matter
Disclaimer: With a heavy heart I regret to inform you that I do not, nor will I ever, own Harry Potter. Props to J.K though
"Tell me a secret," she whispered softly in his ear. They sat warm by the fire watching the sun set outside their huge bay window. Settled in between his legs with his arms wrapped snugly around her midsection, she had never felt so at peace.
"We don't have secrets love," Ron mumbled before placing soft-butterfly kisses along her shoulder, eliciting a series of soft contented moans. "We've been married for a nearly a year already, married people don't have secrets." Except one, he thought to himself. One she never had to know.
His kisses trailed up from her shoulder to her neck, followed by her jawbone and then he finally rested on the lobe of her ear, nibbling at it as he stroked her bushy mane of hair he adored so much. She melted back further into his embrace, lightly tracing circles on his bare arms with her finger. "Everybody has secrets," she hummed happily. She reached for her wand and summoned a bottle of firewhiskey with every intention of celebrating. It was their first Valentine's Day together as husband and wife.
"Trying to get me drunk Mrs. Weasley?" A tingle shot up her spine at the sound of his low throaty voice, "Think you can just divulge all my dirty secrets from my dark hidden past with a pint of that do you?"
Placing the bottle down beside them she removed his hands from their place on her stomach before spinning on her behind to face him. Cupping his face with both her hands she leaned forward in what looked like an attempt to kiss him, but appeared to change her mind halfway as she stopped.
"You don't have a dark hidden past Mr. Weasley," she murmuered softly, and with those words she eliminated all space between them. Once they finally came back up for air, Ron summoned two tumblers from their kitchen and filled them halfway. Placing the glass in her hand
"I know you don't, no darker than mine at least because I was a part of it all. I am your past," she raised her glass for a toast, Ron followed suit and their glasses met with light clink.
"And you are my future," he proclaimed proudly before throwing back his drink. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Hermione doing the same. He shuddered violently feeling his throat burn and eyes water and he suddenly wondered why people drank this stuff, it tasted awful and felt even worse. "Where did this come from anyways?" he asked her curiously, eyeing the bottle in question with disdain.
Blinking back tears from her awful reaction the drink; Hermione shoved her glass away and wrung out her hands. Ron knew she never held her alcohol well. "Wedding present from Harry," she coughed. Upon hearing Harry's name, Ron's eyes dropped towards the floor. He missed his best friend terribly, but ever since their wedding he had been distant from them; and Ron knew why. "I miss him," Hermione sighed, voicing exactly what Ron was thinking. "He never comes around anymore."
"I know love," he then jumped to his feet so fast that he startled her. "Let's dance," he said suddenly, extending out his hand to her. Hermione grasped his wrist and he pulled her up to her feet, encircling her waist with his free arm. He was not about to let Harry put a damper on their night. Resting his forehead against hers, he shot her one of his adorable goofy grins. "Why did you marry me Hermione?" Ron asked softly, wanting to hear her profess her love for him, he wanted that warm feeling of joy to spread throughout his body, no firewhiskey needed. He didn't know if it was the alcohol that gave him so much courage, but he was suddenly so full of pride. Thinking back to the day of his wedding, he remembered what had caused such a rift in his friendship with Harry; and as much as he loved his best mate, he couldn't help but be filled with an overwhelming of smugness knowing he had won. Hermione was his and he wanted to hear her say it.
She didn't answer though, and for a moment Ron felt scared. He released her and stepped back so he could take a good look at her face, until he realized she was looking down at the ground. A small pit of uneasiness and anger began to build in his stomach. "It's not a difficult question," he said to her, trying to keep the bite out of his voice. Why couldn't she answer him. She timidly raised her head to meet his gaze, tears threatening to spill from the corner of her eyes. Chewing incessantly on her lips the entire time, she found that they were beginning to ache; a nervous habit she had never been able to kick.
"Is it some crazy secret that you can't even tell me?" His voice hard, and quiet. " Do I need to tell you one of mine first?"
"Ron," she whispered softly, unsure of what to say to him. She reached out her hand to place on his cheek but he grabbed her wrist, and yanked her towards him so fast she was barely able to keep her balance. Before he could stop himself, words came pouring out of his mouth. It was the only thing he had ever kept from her in fear of destroying their marriage. He couldn't have been more right.
"Harry never comes around anymore because he's still in love with you," a soft gasp escaped her lips but he didn't stop there, "Always has been, he told me on our wedding day." Silence followed his confession, with the exception of her small sniffles, a sure sign that she was about to cry. "But from the look in your eyes, I think you already knew that, didn't you?" She tried to hide her face again, but he took one of his fingers and placed it under her chin; insisting that she look him in the eye. "What did he say to you Hermione?"
More silence, Hermione couldn't bring herself to speak. Of course she already knew, it was too difficult for them to look the other in the eye, especially after the moment they shared at her wedding. She just didn't think Ron knew.
"Okay fine," he exhaled in frustration, "one secret at a time. Let's go back to my first question then. Why did you marry me?"
Tears openly falling down her cheeks she yanked her wrist from his grip and threw her arms around his neck; urging him to embrace her back. He was right. This was an easy question. Her answer should have been simple, automatic even. "I married you because I love you," she sobbed into his shoulder. Feeling his arms wrap tightly around her waist she began crying harder, melting into his embrace. It was the truth; she loved him enough to marry him, to want to spend the rest of her life with him.
Ron stood there holding the love of his life in his arms as she fell to pieces uncontrollably into his shoulder. Of course she loved him, he knew she loved him; it was a given fact that oddly didn't help him feel any better. People in love never cried like this, they weren't this sad. "I'm not the only one you love, am I?" he asked, regretting the words as soon as they left his mouth. Damn him and his obscenely large mouth. Why he couldn't have just left it alone, he'll never know. Ron never appreciated the words blissful ignorance more in his life. She stopped shaking in his arms, her sobs dwindled into little coughs, weeping silently now; but still weeping. Unable to prolong his inevitable heartbreak, he kissed the top of her head and carefully extracted himself from her tight grip.
Five minutes of silence had passed and he was still waiting for an answer. Opening his mouth he began to ask again when she shook her head furiously before breaking down into another round of tears.
"You were so insistent on learning my secrets just minutes ago, so now it's your turn to fess up." He was more hurt than he was angry, but the pain he felt in his chest could never mask the infamous Weasley temper. "So again, Hermione," he barely managed to choke the words out, willing himself not to cry. He would never let her see how much she broke him. "Why did you marry me?" What had started off as a wonderful, romantic night had quickly turned abysmal. Ron knew how this was going to end, so he prayed the end would never come.
She had the answer at the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't bring herself to say them. If she lied to him, he would know, and then leave. If she told him the truth, he would leave. That really only left her with one option. Another lie, another secret wouldn't do their already broken relationship any good; the truth was all she had left. She owed him that much.
"Bloody hell Hermione. WHY DID YOU MARRY ME?" He yelled, grasping her by the shoulders and shaking her lightly.
"BECAUSE YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE THAT ASKED!" She screamed back, her words shocking even herself. This was not how this was supposed to go. Those were not the words she intended to use, and with one look at his face she knew that she had hurt him. His face was beyond recognition; the look he gave her was that of a stranger's.
Ron closed his eyes defeated, dejected, and heartbroken beyond all hell. He reached out for her and pulled her into another hug; the feeling of love for his wife and bestfriend surged through his veins, telling him to stop what he was about to do. A little voice inside his head kept telling me that they would get past this, they had to. However, that little voice could never compete with the ache in his heart, always reminding him that he would forever be second-best to the famous boy-who-lived.
Hermione breathed in his scent, clutching at the front of his shirt in happiness, thinking that perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps, he would stay; now that there were no more secrets left.
Releasing her, Ron walked over to the fireplace and picked up the abandoned bottle of firewhiskey that had induced so much honesty in the young couple. A small smile crossed Hermione's face as she wiped her tears, ready to resume their celebration.
Placing the bottle in one hand, Ron grabbed her other with his own. She felt him slip something to her hand and upon realizing what it was, summoned all the strength she had to keep from dying. Lowering his head, Ron placed a sweet, chaste kiss on her lips. She could still taste the remnants of the firewhiskey on his lips, it was intoxicating, making her feel dizzy and weak. "Oh Ron," she whimpered, wishing she could reverse the entire night. What could she possibly say now that would rectify everything that had been said.
"Happy Valentine's Day Hermione," he whispered softly into her ear as he stepped back, and looked at her with the most heart wrenching expression she had ever seen.
"I love you" she replied, her voice pleading. Ron closed his eyes, her heart stopped beating, and with a loud Crack, he was gone, his wedding ring clutched tightly in her hand.