Ronald Weasley sat in his favorite chair, across from a blazing fire that was dancing in his fireplace. The lights were dim, and growing darker still, as the only source was the sun that was steadily sinking into the backdrop out his window. He didn't mind. In fact, at the moment he appreciated the irony that as the light in the room faded, so did the last remnants of his happiness.

The morning had indeed been an eventful one, if that's what you called it when you inadvertently imprisoned yourself. That was metaphorically speaking of course, he was quite capable of leaving his home, but that's not what he meant. He was now stuck. In life, in the sense of false love that he'd been fashioning for over a year now, and now in an engagement that he himself had issued.

What in Merlin's name had possessed him to get down on one knee before her? To ask her to spend the rest of their lives lying to one another? That was just it. She wouldn't be lying, she was in love with him, and that's exactly why he'd done it. The look on Lavender Brown's beautiful face when he'd looked up at it, the little black box in his hand, opened to reveal the silver engagement ring was too much.

Sure, he'd seen her sparkling smile falter at the sight of the tiny little diamond that had been crafted into the silver band, but it hadn't lasted long. In the time that he'd known Lavender, which was a good many years, he'd always known that she could be shallow. He'd also known that he felt very little when she was near him.

Let's rephrase that. He felt very little i emotionally /i when near her. Physically was a different story completely. He had trouble keeping his hands to himself when she was around, and there wasn't a man alive that could blame him.

But is wasn't her. It wasn't Hermione Granger.

i Can't remember what went wrong last September
Though I'm sure you'd remind me, if you had too /i

He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Hermione, but he could remember the last conversation they'd had, vividly. Staring in the wispy tongues of the flames, Ron's consciousness began to ebb away, leaving his mind to wander into places that he tried desperately to avoid.

i " Hermione, please just listen to me, hear me out. " Ron begged, feeling close to tears himself. She was flat out blubbering. Hermione'd always been a bundle of emotions, one in which was very loosely bound... easily distangled. Ron seemed to be the best at untangling it.

" I'm done listening, Ronald! " She spat, pulling his old school trunk from underneath his bed -their bed, or it had been. She threw the weathered piece of luggage onto the mattress and jerked it open. She didn't even bother to pull out her wand, she was probably in too frenzied of a state for her magic to be any good at this point anyway. Instead she stalked over to the amour they shared, sliding the top drawer open, gathering as many garments as she could hold.

" I know what you're thinking, but it's not like that Hermione, I swear it. " It wasn't. He knew that she was thinking somewhere along the lines of the last time. The last time he'd torn them apart.

Hermione let out another loud sob that pulled relentlessly at his heartstrings. It was heartbreaking to watch her fumble helplessly through a drawer, searching through the mix of his T-shirts and her blouses. He would have helped her, but it seemed highly inappropriate. /i

A rushing sound brought Ron back to reality. The amber flames he'd been focusing on had turned emerald, emitting a suet covered Lavender from it's depths. She huffed, dusting off her purple robes, and running a pretty little hand through her shoulder length brunette hair. She was lovely, as always, even covered in a bit of dirt. She turned, and noticed Ron immediately.

" Well, mother's thrilled! " Lavender exclaimed, running over to where he was sitting. He braced himself, and was only marginally prepared when she launched herself from the carpet, landing on his lap. It would have been painful, had she not been unnaturally dainty.

" I'm glad. " He said, placing a tight smile on his face. He hoped that he wouldn't' be forced to smile like this every time she came into the room. Perhaps... if the world choose to give him a break, he'd truly fall in love with Lavender. Maybe, if he played along a little longer, gave this marriage a fighting chance...

Now he was lying to himself, which was almost worse than lying to Lavender.

She got quiet, and for a moment he thought that she'd caught on to the fact that something was wrong with him, but upon bringing his eyes to her face he saw that that wasn't the case. He realized that Lavender very rarely knew that anything was wrong. Sometimes he thought that there was something wrong with her, as she seemed completely oblivious to the fact that there was something up. This was in other situations as well, not just their relationship. He came to the conclusion that she ignored things she didn't want to deal with. Things like the fact that her soon-to-be huspand wasn't really as in love with her as he told her he was. That, or she really was as thick as she'd seemed during their school days.

" Lavender Weasley... " She breathed against his shoulder. She was cuddling on his chest, her hands huddled together on her lap. He hesitated, before wrapping an arm around her shoulder loosely. " It sounds perfect, doesn't it? " She asked him, though it was said in a way that he wasn't required to answer.

So he didn't. He merely traced an invisible spot on her arm, and after a few seconds, he let out a sigh, that she evidently took as one of contentment.

" I can't believe we're getting i married /i ... " She continued, and he felt her shift her weight. Now that, was something he could respond to honestly.

" Me neither... " He let out a dry laugh, that felt awkward coming out, so he squelched it quickly. She patted him playfully on the chest, then went about running the tips of her fingers over the front of his brown T-shirt.

" You know... today's left me a little tired, I'm thinking about turning in early... " She murmured, lifting her chin so that her breath prickled the tiny hairs on his earlobe. He finally twisted his neck so that he was looking at her face, never directly into her eyes. He couldn't.

" Go ahead, I'll catch up. " He told her quietly, but with no suggestion. However, she reacted as though he'd told her to take off her clothes and wait for him with some whipped cream. She scrambled off of his legs gracefully, throwing him a coy smile on her way into his bedroom.

With Lavender gone, there wasn't anything else to distract him further. He gazed back over at the fire, which was dying slowing, but had returned to it's original coloration.

He let out an aggravated groan, and let his face drop into his open palms. What had he gotten himself into? How had things gotten so far off course? He'd had the perfect woman, he'd had her since he was eleven!

I Our love was comfortable
And so broken in /i

He felt another memory burrowing up to the surface, revealing itself slowly, tauntingly. This one was far less hostel, it was welcomed actually.

i Hermione had always been beautiful, Ron had always thought so. It may have taken him a few years to realize it, but there was no denying it once he had. But tonight, she was beyond beautiful. He wasn't a wordy person, and didn't know of a word that could describe her accurately. He doubted that there was.

" Ronald, you're staring. " She muttered, blushing profusely. He grinned, feeling heat rise from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears, surely she'd notice. Averting his eyes from her, he placed a hand on the small of her back and drove her through the doorway of his house. Technically, it was her's as well. It would be, once Tuesday rolled around and she moved in.

" You look... very nice. " He said, cursing himself for the incredible understatement. He always lost his mind when she was in his presence. He couldn't think straight, his brain sometimes refused to tell his body what to do, or vise versa.

" Thank you, you're looking very nice yourself. " She said, tucking a loose strand of her soft curly locks behind her ear. He loved that hair, he'd always loved her hair.

The evening progressed, and things seemed less intimidating as the minutes, and the amount of liquid in the bottle of Fire Whiskey, fell away.

" You do know that we'll be getting rid of i that /i the minute my things arrive, I hope. " Hermione asked, smiling as she pointed to the large orange and brown Chudley Cannon banner hanging ceremoniously above the fireplace.

" I figured as much... " Ron smirked, looking away from the banner and back to her. He was sitting on the coach, the one that didn't match the rest of his furniture in the slightest, but it had once sat in the living room of the Burrow, so he'd brought it over. Actually, there was a lot of random things that had, at one time or another, belonged to his parents. They'd been left to him... in his mother and father's will.

Somehow, in the next few minutes, Ron found himself leading a shy looking Hermione into his bedroom. It wasn't an unconscious decision, or one made of the credible amount of alcohol they'd both consumed, in fact, he felt completely sober. This was something they'd talked about for a while now, and she'd said that it would happen when they were ready for it to.

He'd been ready, for quite sometime now.

She took his hand, surprising him by taking the lead. She hopped onto the bed, in a very Hermione-ish way, and tucked a leg beneath her. He slipped his shoes off, shuving them aside and climbing up next to her.

Always full of surprises, she leaned back, letting his hand slip from hers. The sleeve of her knitted jacket slipped from her shoulder, revealing the thin straps of the solid pink camisole she was wearing. She looked at him expectantly, as though it was his turn to make a move. He was full of moves that he'd love nothing more than to make, but he had to be positive.

" Are you sure, because it's alright if you're not, I mean... " She was shaking her head slowly, a smile playing on her rosy lips. She was laying there was though she'd done this a million times before, when he knew for a fact that she hadn't. That this was -that he was- the first.

" Ronald... shut up. " /i

" Won won? " A sing-song voice called from the room a few feet behind. Lavender sounded a bit impatient, and very eager. He had no choice but to get up from the seat he'd been sulking in for the good part of that afternoon. She'd left to tell her parents the good news, that she was marrying a man that made less than minimal wage, and on top of it all, didn't love their daughter. She didn't tell them the last bit of course, considering she was still choosing to ignore that fact.

As expected, Lavender was laying allaborately on top of Ron's feather stuffed comforter, although she wasn't completely buff, she was dawning a silver teddy. She was amazing to look at, as usual.

" Hello...? " She asked gently, waving a hand in the air. He blinked twice, then forced that same damn smile to his face. Moving sluggishly, he slipped his shoes off, an unwelcome feeling of de-ja vu passing over him. Shaking it off, he removed his jeans, throwing them onto the wooden chair that sat against the wall. His legs broke out into goose bumps from his ankles, to his knee caps, everything that wasn't covered by his black boxers.

i I sleep with this new girl I'm still getting used too
My friends all agree, say 'she'd gonna be good for you'
They throw me high fives... /i

Ron lifted himself onto the bed, sliding his legs under the covers. Lavender still lay there, smiling up at him, her slender face glowing in the pale light that was flowing from the window. He wanted to leave at that moment. He didn't want to fool Lavender like this, but it was too late. He'd dug a whole, and now he had to tunnel further. If he was lucky there'd be light at the other end, but he doubted it.

" Well, come here, silly. " She giggled, reaching out one of her long arms and tugging him to her. She positioned him so that he was all but straddling her, the palms of her hands pressing against his chest, practically holding him up.

Then she was pursuing him, rather vigorously, kissing along his neck. Any other night he would have went along with it, it wasn't as though it wasn't pleasant. Tonight he couldn't, though he knew it was very appropriate to, given that he'd just proposed to her. It was expected of him, and she knew it.

He stared down at her, her perfect body, or perfect by most men's standards. The only thing between his and her body was their clothes, and she was making it very clear that it wouldn't be for long.

i Our love was comfortable
So broken in
She's perfect, so flawless
Or so they say /i

She looked like a bloody painting laying there, her smile bending her features in all the right ways, so that it surely seemed genuine. It saddened him to know that someone would allow this to happen to them. It was also sad that someone could be so completely naive, but she was, and he'd better get accustomed to it.

Lavender pulled at the hem of his T-shirt, untucking it from the waist band of his boxers. She wasn't the type to mess around this one, she got straight to the point. Looking like she did, she usually had no other choose but to do so, but in this case he just wasn't looking forward to anything the way he should have been.

i She thinks I can't see the smile that she's faking
And poses for pictures that aren't being taken
I loved you
Grey sweat pants, no make up, so perfect /i

He missed Hermione with a physical pain, it literally hurt him not to have her with him. They'd been close for so long, even if they weren't together -as a couple- he needed her there as a friend. For over a year she hadn't been there. After their messy break, she'd stopped talking to him, only sending him vague messages through Harry around the holidays. He didn't know what bothered him most, that he'd lost his one true love, or the fact that he alone had severed the solid bound of friendship the two of them had shared.

" Is something wrong? " Lavender's voice broke his thought, and he looked back down at her, attempting to meet her gaze. Her soft doe-like eyes not quite burrowing into his own. She never studied him to harshly, which was yet another sign that she was still determined to keep herself sheilded from him.

" No... no, I'm sorry. " He whispered, bringing his face closer to hers. He kissed her once, to give himself something to do. It felt very routine, and he knew exactly why. It was as though he was putting on the same act every time they did this, and he was putting on the exact same performance each time.

Hermione's face swam in front of his mind's eye, her olive skin, darkened a bit by her few freckles. Her bushy hair, that after years of practice, had developed into elegant curls. Honey colored eyes, so different from Lavender's, that seemed to always bee searching for something...

At that moment, he made himself a promise. He would see Hermione, and he would tell her how he felt, no matter where that led him. He knew nothing about what would happen between Lavender and himself, though he did have a faint idea of where things might head. One thing he was sure of, he was utterly and completely in love with Hermione Granger, and nothing, not even the engagement with another woman, was going to change that.

i Our love was comfortable
And so broken in
She's perfect, so flawless
I'm not impressed
I want you back. /i

PS. THIS IS A ONE-SHOT.