Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. They belong to JKR. The lyrics belong to the formidable U2.
Notes: Dedicated to Twixxa, for her up and coming birthday. Happy birthday!!
Twist of Fate
~Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you ...~
Ten years had passed since we graduated and you were the last person I ever expected to see in Flourish and Blotts. We lost touch, we stopped speaking and I pretended not to care. Bullshit, all of it. I did care. Last Christmas Ginny mentioned you during dinner and it was like a punch in the gut. I acted like I'd forgotten all about you . . . I called you "the frizzy haired pest" like I couldn't even remember how to say your name.
Yep, you guessed it, that was more bullshit. I don't think a single day went by that I didn't thought of you. It was bloody annoying, you know. I wanted to get on with my life and do something important . . . or, at least, as important as something I do can get, I suppose. I had been on dates, y'know. A lot of dates. So many dates, more than all my brothers combined. Honestly. It wasn't like I'd been sitting around waiting for you. I never liked you like that. Much.
You looked exactly like you did ten years ago, your hair was still all over the place and your eyes were wide and searching. But you looked . . . different too, y'know. Older; more jaded. You taught me that work in sixth year . . . jaded. That's a Hermione Granger word and that's exactly how you looked. But I guess living through the biggest war the wizarding world has ever seen can do that to a person. Even Ginny seems jaded now.
We hadn't spoken once since Harry's funeral and I felt a twinge of something as I think of my once best friend. It was a well known feeling, that twinge and I think I've pinned it down. It was a combination of missing him, jealously and guilt. It was obvious why I missed him; he was my best friend after all. I was still jealous because he always got to be the hero and in the end he died to save the girl he loved. He died to save you. And the guilt . . . I felt guilty because I was jealous of a dead man. Jealous of him because you were in love with him. I knew it even though you never said it.
"Hi."
I hadn't realize you had gotten so close. The book store suddenly seemed very small and very dusty. My eyes were watering . . . from the dust, y'know.
"Hullo, Hermione."
You cocked your head slightly and stared at me like you were looking for an answer to a question you hadn't asked.
"How're you?"
I tried to smile but failed miserably. "Okay. You?"
"I'm okay, too," you said.
A thick silence fell over us and a moment later you nodded toward the door.
"Would you like to go for a walk?"
A genuine smile blossomed on my face and I nodded. As much as I hate to admit it, I'd missed talking to you.
We walked in tense silence at first, our eyes staring straight ahead and trying not to be drawn to each other. I didn't want to look at you, it hurt far too much to look at your face and remember all that I'd lost. Ginny would have told me that I was being stupid, that I should just say what I felt, but Ginny was always smarter than me like that, except when it came to Harry. When he was involved she couldn't even speak. She never told you how much it hurt her to not be with him.
"What have you been doing?" you asked finally, your shoes making odd, hollow sounding noises on the damp road.
"Nothing, really," I replied. "I've been working, trying to rebuild what we lost."
You glanced around at Hogsmeade and nodded. "It's been a long process, hasn't it?"
"Yeah. He tore down most of our lives."
"Do you miss Harry as much as I do?" you asked.
I blinked a few times and swallowed hard before even trying to respond. "What do you think, Hermione?"
You shrugged. "You two weren't exactly close near the end of it."
"Don't bring that up," I said. "He was my best friend and . . . whatever we were fighting about then didn't matter. It doesn't matter."
"It mattered enough that you refused to speak to him even though you knew either of you could die any day," you said.
"Shut up, Hermione!" I spat, turning away from you. "I don't want to talk about it. Is that what you came here for?"
"I didn't come here for anything," you responded angrily. "I was in a book store that you just happened to also be in. I am allowed to enter a book store, right?"
"I guess," I answered.
"I never knew what you were fighting out," you said.
"It doesn't matter," I said stiffly. "It was ten years ago."
"It matters," you replied softly.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Fine."
That silence fell over us again, filled with things both of us couldn't bring ourselves to say. You never understood all the words that threatened to tumble out of my mouth and the secrets that wanted to be spilled into the street. There was just the silence, an overwhelming, uncomfortable silence. I didn't like it and I wished you would say something, but I knew why you wouldn't say anything. It was because you wanted me to explain to you, after all these years, why Harry and I had fought only days before his death. You knew exactly how to get your way; exactly how to make me break down and say it.
"We fought over you," I mumbled finally.
You turned your head sharply, as if you didn't believe what I had said. "What?"
"I said we fought over you."
"Me?"
I nodded. "Yes, Hermione, you."
You paused, then blinked and looked down at your twisting hands. "Why me?"
I struggled for words because there was almost nothing I could say. Anything I said would reveal everything I had ever felt about you and I didn't know if I was ready for that.
"Because he refused to admit to me what I already knew," I finally said.
You looked at me, your eyes wide. "And what was that, Ron?"
"That he loved you."
You snorted into your hands, then bit your lip hard against the laughter I knew was threatening to break. You were laughing at me . . . wasn't that just the perfect ending to the perfect day? I turned to leave, but your hand grabbed my arm and held me back.
"Harry didn't love me," you said.
I rolled my eyes. "What do you know?"
"I know we were great friends, but that he never loved me."
"You're so blind, Hermione," I snapped.
Your cheeks flushed at this and you stopped walking, turning in the middle of the street to stare at me. "I'm blind?" you asked shrilly. "I'm blind?"
"Yes. You. Are. BLIND!"
People were staring now, but I didn't care. If you wanted so badly to talk about this then we would talk about it. Loudly and in the middle of a crowd was just obviously the best way to do it.
The flush crept up higher on your cheeks, turning you a very bright red. I could tell when you were angry, even after all these years and at that very moment, you were really angry.
"You are the most ignorant, selfish, blind, ridiculous excuse for a human being I have ever met!" you shrieked. "You think you know everything, Ron, but you don't know a thing!"
"Oh, what don't I know, Hermione?" I retorted. "How deeply your love for Harry ran? How many times you two met behind my back for a midnight snog?"
"We never met behind your back!" you said in an angry voice. "Not even once, despite what you might think."
I rolled my eyes. You were so stupid to think I would believe you for even a second.
"Then what did you do all those nights you two snuck off together?" I asked.
You started at this and flushed even deeper. "You noticed that?"
"Yes," I snapped. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."
You glanced away and sighed. "We went off to talk about you."
That stopped me . . . oh yes, Hermione, that certainly stopped me. "What?"
"You . . . you're such a ridiculous git," you said, shaking your head. "We snuck off to talk about you and what you might think of me. Not even Harry could tell, you know, so we'd talk about what I could do to make you look at me. Just once, that's all I wanted."
I snorted. "Hermione, I looked at you every bleeding day."
"You never told me."
"I couldn't."
You looked at me. "Why not?"
"Because I thought Harry was in love with you and . . ." I trailed off and shrugged helplessly. "I guess I thought he was more important than me."
"Harry never loved me, Ron," you said. "Never like that."
Another silence draped over us and I smiled softly.
"Y'know, I missed you, Hermione. I thought about you a lot."
You smiled back, reaching across the space between us and taking my hand. "I missed you too, Ron."
You missed me, honest to Merlin, you really missed me. Harry was my best friend and he died to save you . . . but he never loved you. All he wanted was for us to be happy. We met in the street in a twist of fate, we met after ten long years of waiting for each other and we had this row. We fought, we yelled and I pretened not to see, but you were right. I was the one who was blind.
You missed me, Hermione and right now, that's enough.
End
Notes: Dedicated to Twixxa, for her up and coming birthday. Happy birthday!!
Twist of Fate
~Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you ...~
Ten years had passed since we graduated and you were the last person I ever expected to see in Flourish and Blotts. We lost touch, we stopped speaking and I pretended not to care. Bullshit, all of it. I did care. Last Christmas Ginny mentioned you during dinner and it was like a punch in the gut. I acted like I'd forgotten all about you . . . I called you "the frizzy haired pest" like I couldn't even remember how to say your name.
Yep, you guessed it, that was more bullshit. I don't think a single day went by that I didn't thought of you. It was bloody annoying, you know. I wanted to get on with my life and do something important . . . or, at least, as important as something I do can get, I suppose. I had been on dates, y'know. A lot of dates. So many dates, more than all my brothers combined. Honestly. It wasn't like I'd been sitting around waiting for you. I never liked you like that. Much.
You looked exactly like you did ten years ago, your hair was still all over the place and your eyes were wide and searching. But you looked . . . different too, y'know. Older; more jaded. You taught me that work in sixth year . . . jaded. That's a Hermione Granger word and that's exactly how you looked. But I guess living through the biggest war the wizarding world has ever seen can do that to a person. Even Ginny seems jaded now.
We hadn't spoken once since Harry's funeral and I felt a twinge of something as I think of my once best friend. It was a well known feeling, that twinge and I think I've pinned it down. It was a combination of missing him, jealously and guilt. It was obvious why I missed him; he was my best friend after all. I was still jealous because he always got to be the hero and in the end he died to save the girl he loved. He died to save you. And the guilt . . . I felt guilty because I was jealous of a dead man. Jealous of him because you were in love with him. I knew it even though you never said it.
"Hi."
I hadn't realize you had gotten so close. The book store suddenly seemed very small and very dusty. My eyes were watering . . . from the dust, y'know.
"Hullo, Hermione."
You cocked your head slightly and stared at me like you were looking for an answer to a question you hadn't asked.
"How're you?"
I tried to smile but failed miserably. "Okay. You?"
"I'm okay, too," you said.
A thick silence fell over us and a moment later you nodded toward the door.
"Would you like to go for a walk?"
A genuine smile blossomed on my face and I nodded. As much as I hate to admit it, I'd missed talking to you.
We walked in tense silence at first, our eyes staring straight ahead and trying not to be drawn to each other. I didn't want to look at you, it hurt far too much to look at your face and remember all that I'd lost. Ginny would have told me that I was being stupid, that I should just say what I felt, but Ginny was always smarter than me like that, except when it came to Harry. When he was involved she couldn't even speak. She never told you how much it hurt her to not be with him.
"What have you been doing?" you asked finally, your shoes making odd, hollow sounding noises on the damp road.
"Nothing, really," I replied. "I've been working, trying to rebuild what we lost."
You glanced around at Hogsmeade and nodded. "It's been a long process, hasn't it?"
"Yeah. He tore down most of our lives."
"Do you miss Harry as much as I do?" you asked.
I blinked a few times and swallowed hard before even trying to respond. "What do you think, Hermione?"
You shrugged. "You two weren't exactly close near the end of it."
"Don't bring that up," I said. "He was my best friend and . . . whatever we were fighting about then didn't matter. It doesn't matter."
"It mattered enough that you refused to speak to him even though you knew either of you could die any day," you said.
"Shut up, Hermione!" I spat, turning away from you. "I don't want to talk about it. Is that what you came here for?"
"I didn't come here for anything," you responded angrily. "I was in a book store that you just happened to also be in. I am allowed to enter a book store, right?"
"I guess," I answered.
"I never knew what you were fighting out," you said.
"It doesn't matter," I said stiffly. "It was ten years ago."
"It matters," you replied softly.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Fine."
That silence fell over us again, filled with things both of us couldn't bring ourselves to say. You never understood all the words that threatened to tumble out of my mouth and the secrets that wanted to be spilled into the street. There was just the silence, an overwhelming, uncomfortable silence. I didn't like it and I wished you would say something, but I knew why you wouldn't say anything. It was because you wanted me to explain to you, after all these years, why Harry and I had fought only days before his death. You knew exactly how to get your way; exactly how to make me break down and say it.
"We fought over you," I mumbled finally.
You turned your head sharply, as if you didn't believe what I had said. "What?"
"I said we fought over you."
"Me?"
I nodded. "Yes, Hermione, you."
You paused, then blinked and looked down at your twisting hands. "Why me?"
I struggled for words because there was almost nothing I could say. Anything I said would reveal everything I had ever felt about you and I didn't know if I was ready for that.
"Because he refused to admit to me what I already knew," I finally said.
You looked at me, your eyes wide. "And what was that, Ron?"
"That he loved you."
You snorted into your hands, then bit your lip hard against the laughter I knew was threatening to break. You were laughing at me . . . wasn't that just the perfect ending to the perfect day? I turned to leave, but your hand grabbed my arm and held me back.
"Harry didn't love me," you said.
I rolled my eyes. "What do you know?"
"I know we were great friends, but that he never loved me."
"You're so blind, Hermione," I snapped.
Your cheeks flushed at this and you stopped walking, turning in the middle of the street to stare at me. "I'm blind?" you asked shrilly. "I'm blind?"
"Yes. You. Are. BLIND!"
People were staring now, but I didn't care. If you wanted so badly to talk about this then we would talk about it. Loudly and in the middle of a crowd was just obviously the best way to do it.
The flush crept up higher on your cheeks, turning you a very bright red. I could tell when you were angry, even after all these years and at that very moment, you were really angry.
"You are the most ignorant, selfish, blind, ridiculous excuse for a human being I have ever met!" you shrieked. "You think you know everything, Ron, but you don't know a thing!"
"Oh, what don't I know, Hermione?" I retorted. "How deeply your love for Harry ran? How many times you two met behind my back for a midnight snog?"
"We never met behind your back!" you said in an angry voice. "Not even once, despite what you might think."
I rolled my eyes. You were so stupid to think I would believe you for even a second.
"Then what did you do all those nights you two snuck off together?" I asked.
You started at this and flushed even deeper. "You noticed that?"
"Yes," I snapped. "That's what I've been trying to tell you."
You glanced away and sighed. "We went off to talk about you."
That stopped me . . . oh yes, Hermione, that certainly stopped me. "What?"
"You . . . you're such a ridiculous git," you said, shaking your head. "We snuck off to talk about you and what you might think of me. Not even Harry could tell, you know, so we'd talk about what I could do to make you look at me. Just once, that's all I wanted."
I snorted. "Hermione, I looked at you every bleeding day."
"You never told me."
"I couldn't."
You looked at me. "Why not?"
"Because I thought Harry was in love with you and . . ." I trailed off and shrugged helplessly. "I guess I thought he was more important than me."
"Harry never loved me, Ron," you said. "Never like that."
Another silence draped over us and I smiled softly.
"Y'know, I missed you, Hermione. I thought about you a lot."
You smiled back, reaching across the space between us and taking my hand. "I missed you too, Ron."
You missed me, honest to Merlin, you really missed me. Harry was my best friend and he died to save you . . . but he never loved you. All he wanted was for us to be happy. We met in the street in a twist of fate, we met after ten long years of waiting for each other and we had this row. We fought, we yelled and I pretened not to see, but you were right. I was the one who was blind.
You missed me, Hermione and right now, that's enough.
End