Deux Ames Un Coeur
Part II
Hermione arrived at Ron's flat and started to frantically knock on his door. She was pounding on it. Her tears were already streaming down her cheeks. When the door opened, Ron's eyes widened in shock as he took in her appearance. He stood there for a moment just staring until he shook out of it and quickly gestured her inside his flat.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked as he ushered her to his sofa.
She wiped at her wet cheeks. "I'm a bloody fool. So, so stupid."
"Uh, fool? Stupid? No, I don't believe that for a moment."
"You don't understand, Ron!" she gasped, shaking her head. She bit her lip as she looked into her best friend's eyes. "Har-Harry and I slept together last night."
She waited for Ron to react accordingly. She waited for him to burst out laughing, to deny it, or to get mad. She waited him to do something. What she didn't expect was for Ron to grin madly at her confession. She frowned, wondering why in the world Ron would look so bloody happy over his best friends shagging especially one of his best friends had recently been in engaged to his baby sister.
"About bloody time!" Ron finally burst out. He shook his head. "It took you two long enough. I mean, blimey, you guys move the pace of a turtle!"
Hermione's mouth dropped open. "Ron?"
"Oh, don't act like it wasn't so bloody transparent, Hermione," he told her, sporting a lazy lopsided smile. "You guys couldn't be more transparent in how you two feel about each other. It was so written in your eyes and how you looked at each other."
"Ron, you-you don't understand," she whispered. "Ginny... she came back this morning."
Ron's eyes widened at that piece of information. His eyebrows shot up and his mouth rounded in an 'o'. He shut his eyes then shook his head. Hermione wondered how he was going to react to this. She and Ron both knew that Ginny was his childhood sweetheart. There was no bloody way that he would turn her away for anyone even if it was Hermione. Ron bit his lip, appearing deep in throught . He sighed then as he got to his feet.
"Bloody hell," he muttered, racking a hand through his hair. He blew out a breath. "How about... How about I pour us something strong? This requires something strong."
Hermione nodded her head in agreement and watched him move across the room to his liquor bar cabinet. He took out some firewhiskey and poured some into two glasses. He walked back to where she was sitting and sat down next to her. He handed her over the glass and she didn't even hesitate to down it.
"Sheesh, easy there!" Ron warned, shaking his head. He took a sip of his. "So, what did Harry say? What did he do?"
"I-I don't know. I didn't stick around long enough."
Ron arched his eyebrow at her. He took a deep breath as he took another sip of his firewhiskey before he put the glass down the coffee table in front of the sofa. He turned back to Hermione and cupped her face in his hands. Startled, Hermione looked into his blue eyes as he continued to look into hers.
"Don't take this the wrong way," he said gently. "But for being the brightest witch of our age, you're bloody stupid for just up and running away."
She growled, shrugging off Ron's hands. "I wasn't running away!"
She got to her feet, stealing his glass and drinking the rest of his firewhiskey. Ron didn't even protest. She fixed him with a dark glare that dared him to deny her. He put his hands up in surrender as he relaxed unto his sofa. She sighed, knowing Ron was just trying to help. He wasn't trying to hurt her feelings. Maybe, she should've stayed to see how everything played out. In her dreams, she could fantasize that Harry would turn away Ginny and choose her. However, she rarely believed in fairytales or fairytale endings... at least not when it came to her.
It had always been Harry. Ron even knew it and he had somehow forgiven her for it. Maybe, it was selfish, but she couldn't lose them – her best friends. They had been there for each other since the very beginning. Their friendship was an epic tale that kept continuing and evolving. If she even attempted to insert herself into Harry's life in a position she knew he would've never allowed her to star in if there was a chance that Ginny would come back... no, he would choose Ginny over her. She knew this! She had watched Harry's feelings and the way he looked at Ginny change long ago during their youth. It was wishful thinking at best to believe she had a chance. She would always be his boring and studious best friend – the clever sidekick. Ginny was fiery and spontaneous. She was everything that Hermione wasn't – beautiful, adventurous, and athletic.
"I-I know when I don't stand a chance," she said. Tears escaped down her cheeks. "If there was any chance that he would feel the same way that I do, I wouldn't know what to do. I don't think I could ever believe it."
"Hermione, you shouldn't sell yourself short," Ron told her, capturing her arms. "Listen to me, I think you should seriously go talk to Harry."
"I can't do that, Ron."
"Yes, you can," he countered. "You apparate back and knock on his door-"
"I can only imagine how that turns out," Hermione gasped. She struggled against him. "Ginny answers the door in nothing but his bloody shirt. I'll look at her and I'll know. It's the same truth that I've come to every bloody time. I'm not her, Ron."
Ron tightened his grip. "No, you're not. You're Hermione – our Hermione. Harry, nor I, would've wanted you any differently. Why can't you see how special you truly are?" He shook her a little. "You built this mental wall in your mind and tricked your heart to believe you're not good enough-"
"Because I'm not!" she cut in with a shout. Tears fell down her cheeks. "I know what type of woman Harry should be with and I don't come close. She has to be fun, has to be full life, and she has to make him laugh."
"Hermione-"
"Ron, please, stop!"
She shook her head, finally crumbling into pieces. Everything came to the surface and bubbled over. All her pain and all her anxieties just bleed out of her as if she was a freshly made wound. She collapsed to the ground. Her body heaved as she wound her arms around herself. Ron knelt before her and she felt him rub circles across her back. She took deep breaths, trying to once again regain her composure.
Her dark eyes gazed into his eyes. "I need to get out of here. I can't be here. I can't be here when he tells everyone that they're back together."
Ron bit his lip before he nodded. "Shell Cottage is available. I'll owl Bill a message telling him that you're headed there."
"Thank you," she murmured.
She watched him sigh before allowing him to pull her into his arms, letting the warmth of his body to melt the chill in her bones.
Two weeks earlier, Hermione had attended the Burrow for dinner. She had watched the look of disappointment wash over the redhead when she realized Harry wasn't coming. For somebody who had called off the wedding, there had been too much hope and desperation in those depths to not mistake the feelings of the youngest Weasley. When she finally caught Ginny alone, she had a heart-to-heart with the petite redhead. She must've got through to her especially if she had finally showed up at Harry's door.
Hermione sighed, absentmindedly following Bill around Shell Cottage as he told her where everything was. She had rushed back to her little studio and packed a bag. She was in the midst of packing when she heard knocking on her front door. She had zipped up her bag and dragged out of the bathroom,. She had walked over to the front door and stood on her tiptoes to look through the peephole. She bit her lip, realizing it was Harry. She gasped, backing up a couple steps.
"Hermione! I know you're in there!" he called out. "I watched you come back."
She had kept quiet, refusing to give away anything.
"We need to talk, Hermione." There was a moment of silence then more pounding on the door. "We need to talk about last night... and this morning."
She shook her head. "Harry, just go back to Ginny."
"Damn it, Hermione. Please open the door."
"No," she said, pressing her back against the door. She slid down until she was sitting on the ground.
"We need talk about this."
"Harry, I'm sorry," she said. "I'm leaving. I don't know when or if I'll come back," she told him. "I'll be safe. I promise. I just want you to be happy."
"Hermione-"
"And I can't make you happy." She sniffled. "But she can. She will. When you marry her, I-I want you to forget about me, okay? Pretend that night never happened. Please, just forget." She swallowed hard as she shakily got to her feet. "I love you, Harry Potter. Goodbye."
She literally jumped back when there was a loud blast. She gasped, stumbling back. She watched as chunks of wood flung into the studio. She quickly raced over to her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She watched Harry break down the door. They looked at each other for a moment before she gave him a sad smile and apparated away.
"Hermione?" Bill called out to her.
Hermione blushed, realizing she had been so caught up in her thoughts that she had zoned out on Bill. She looked at the older man and gave him a sheepish look. He just gave her a slight smile as he brought her in for a quick embrace.
"You'll find a way to cope," he whispered to her. "It's never easy to get over the one you love. You probably never will, but you have to try your best to move on."
She nodded in agreement with that assessment. "Thank you, Bill."
She watched him walk out of Shell Cottage, leaving her alone. She heard the sound of the waves. The scent of salt and fresh air made her feel a bit lightheaded. She was certain she'd get used to it. Bill had told her that she could stay as long as she needed. She had thanked him profusely. She needed to find another place to live and set up arrangements. She thought back to the offers made to her in foreign countries.
She walked over through the small cottage. She choose the small room, overlooking the ocean. She put down her bag on the bed. In the course of two days, everything had changed. She had got to experience what it would feel like to be with man she loved so dearly and then she had to let him go. She had to let him go for his sake. She knew he'd feel indebted to her. If he had went the opposite direction and decided against rekindling his romance with Ginny, she would never forgive herself for being the reason for it. None of the kisses he gave her were hers. They were stolen moments and stolen kisses.
One time at the Burrow, she had been washing dishes and had looked outside. She watched Harry take Ginny into his arms and they danced to their own internal music. It was such a romantic moment that she had felt like she was intruding on. He swept her about and twirled her. Ginny adored every moment. The picturesque snapshot of bliss and love so perfectly mastered in that one moment. It was hard to ignore that truth that she would never be that to him.