The coffee shop smelled delicious as usual and Ron inhaled deeply as he entered the familiar place. Looking around, he noted again how it hadn't changed in the slightest. It was one of the things that Ron loved about the shop- he hated change, after all. Change only led to bad things, right? Change could never be good unless you weren't happy with where you were in your life. And Ron was perfectly happy with how this coffee shop looked. He wanted it to stay just the way it was. It had gotten him through both the best and worst years of his life, the tough times and the easy ones. Everything down to the huge coffee cups and comfortable couches had gotten him through the slow, painful process of grieving, and he thought that if he lost it, all of his progress might just fall out the window.
After shutting the door tightly behind him, Ron strode forward and to the counter. He stepped in line behind a woman with sleek brown hair and a little black dress that looked a tad too formal for the morning. He guessed that the red sweatshirt she had put over it was an attempt to conceal its style, but there was no disguising that the woman looked more out of place in this coffee shop than a giraffe would. However, if she was here, Ron knew she must have good taste in coffee shops. Brown's Coffee was a small family owned business. When you stepped inside it looked like you were in someone's extremely fascinating attic. The walls, lined up with cherry wood tables, were a warm burgundy. The coffee cups were absolutely enormous, each a differently painted vibrant color. In the center of the shop were a couple of couches, varying in size, and accompanied by some coffee tables that doubled as foot rests. .
Oh, yeah, and the food was good too. Grinning to himself, Ron returned his eyes to the woman in front of him again. He watched as she stepped up to place her order, and just as she did so, the waitress behind the counter waved to Ron and gestured him forward.
"You're a bit late this morning," she said, grinning as she handed Ron his coffee.
"My bloody alarm didn't go off," Ron explained, digging through his pockets for some gold. Once he found it, he handed it to the waitress and turned around, feeling a little better now that he had his day on track. Just as he turned, he slammed into the woman that had been getting her coffee at the other counter. He heard her exclamation of "Whoops!" mingle with his "Bloody hell!" as coffee spilled all over his robes.
"I'm sorry, it's my fault," Ron said, reaching over for a napkin and concentrating on nothing but the state of his work clothes. The woman said nothing, simply standing there, and Ron instantly became offended, wondering why anyone would be so rude. He opened his mouth to snap at her, but, upon seeing her, closed it quickly. She was staring at him with a shocked look on her face, and her coffee cup had fallen out of her hand and clattered to the floor. The remaining coffee there spilled from the cup and created a pool at their feet. The two simply stared at each other, until finally the woman found her voice.
"Ron," she said hesitantly. "Ah... hello."
"Hermione," Ron croaked in response. "What happened to your hair?"
Her next reply was so sarcastic that it let him on to how awkward she was feeling.
"Oh, it thinned out naturally over time."
Ron let out a laugh, then said,
"No, really."
Hermione allowed herself a small smile.
"I used Sleekeazy. I have a job interview."
Ron felt as though she had punched him.
"Er- is that why you came back to London?"
Hermione glanced up at him, searching his expression for something, probably hearing the unspoken statement in his sentence. Is that why you came back to London, or did you come back for me?
"Yes, it is," she said quietly. A lump formed in Ron's throat.
"Right, well, I don't want to keep you," he said. He turned around and started to walk out the door. Hermione was looking after him desperately, however, and he wasn't surprised when she called out his name a few seconds later.
"Ron?"
He turned around.
"Yeah?"
"Maybe... do you think... my interview isn't for hours... do you want to... catch up?"
Now, the fact was that Ron was already a little bit late for work and if he spent anymore time with his ex girlfriend he would probably be risking an extreme berating and possible firing from his boss. But Hermione was making that familiar pleading face at him, so, swallowing, Ron agreed and led her over to the table that he always sat at.
"You remember," Hermione said delightedly, and Ron mentally abused himself for picking this spot. He'd forgotten that before it had been his spot, it had been their spot, and before that it had been hers. Which made him look the perfect fool for not suspecting that Hermione would be there someday. But the truth was, Ron hadn't expected Hermione to ever show up again. Not in his life, not in his world, and certainly not in this little coffee shop that had been the place where he spent a whole year and a half grieving her. He felt that her showing up here and seeing him here was slightly ironic and extremely counteractive to the progress that he had been making. He could feel his composure and security in life (or what little he had, anyways) quickly unraveling simply at the sight of her face.
"'Course I do," he settled on saying, and Hermione gave him a tiny smile that made his heart melt into a tiny little puddle.
Traitor.
Hermione and Ron sat at the table and slowly sipped their coffee. Ron felt as though he should probably be saying something, but the fact was that he had no clue what to ask her about, aside from her relationship status. He watched her look around, her eyes fixed on a woman and her baby over in the corner, her mouth set into a thin line that told Ron she was trying to control some emotion deep inside. Finally, she took a long breath and turned back to him, fixing her amber eyes on his azure ones. Her unflinching gaze was making Ron nervous, but he promised himself inwardly that he would not let on to this.
"So how've you been?" Hermione asked shortly. Ron swallowed. What was he supposed to say? Great, Hermione. After you ripped my heart out, I was real good. Quick, quick recovery.
"Alright, I suppose."
He saw the thin line vanish and a faint smile wash over her face. And that was when it hit him, a thought that made him so horror struck and depressed he wanted to curl up in a little ball and die.
She was happy.
She was happy, and over him, and the only reason that she was able to stand sitting at this table with him was because she was so much happier than he was. She was moving on, making a better and beautiful life that would never, ever involve him. A life where her husband picked up his clothes off of the floor and her children were not Quidditch obsessed gingers. He'd standby and watch her live her years without him, watch her go through days where she thought she needed to straighten her hair, and he'd have no right to tell her that it was more beautiful in its natural state. She was always more beautiful in her natural state, especially in the morning with the sunlight streaming in through the window, making her seem like an angel surrounded by a halo. She had always looked so happy waking up next to him. He missed that look on her face. He supposed she wore it very often for the man who she woke up next to now.
The thought of her waking up next to someone else- or, indeed, sleeping with someone else- made his insides contract in what could only be described as pure, unadulterated jealousy. And it was somewhere between that moment and Hermione's inquiry as to what he was up to these days that he made his choice. It wasn't a conscious decision, and it definitely was not a good one. He barely thought about it beforehand, and it seemed as though the idea had entered his mind completely without his acknowledgment or consent. But the words- the lies- slipped off of his tongue so fast he had absolutely no time to think about it- or, indeed, consider the consequences. He didn't even have the time to ask himself whether or not it was a good time to do so, seeing as he had absolutely no proof that Hermione was with someone else at the moment, or even that she was happy at this stage in her life. He just said it.
"I'm engaged."
He should have foreseen her next question as soon as the words spilled out of his mouth, but it still took him by surprise.
"Who are you engaged to?"
For some strange reason, he was so surprised he didn't even notice the way her eyes widened slightly and her smile became quite fixed. He was too busy contemplating who would hurt Hermione the most, and the answer came to him in one glorious moment. The image of Hermione setting birds on him when they were in sixth year entered his mind, and then some words that she had spoken to him once joined the picture.
"Seeing you kissing her... wanting her... it tore me into pieces. I never, ever want to have to go through it again."
"Lavender," Ron said without preamble. "Lavender Brown." Then, feeling as though he ought to do the thing properly, he let out a loud chuckle and said, "Or Weasley, I suppose. Lavender Weasley, she'll be soon."
He was so disgusted with his actions he didn't even notice Hermione's spoon clatter to the ground, nor the fact that she spent at least a minute trying to retrieve it. He didn't notice her attempt to compose herself, so by the time she spoke again, she was perfectly alright and it seemed that she had never been upset at all. If there was one thing Ron knew, it was that old wounds left scars. Even if Hermione had been totally and completely over him, he had expect a slight reaction to his news that he was engaged to the girl that had combined efforts with him to break Hermione's heart. No matter how long ago it was. So when she let out a girlish, highly out of character giggle, Ron snapped his head up in shock and watched as she made her next announcement.
"That's so funny!" Hermione squealed, slapping her hands on the table.
"Why is that funny?" Ron frowned. He was confused and (it had to be said) stupendously annoyed that his plot seemed to have failed.
"Well, you're engaged to your first girlfriend," Hermione said, still jabbering in a voice that was obscenely unlike her own. "And I'm married to my first boyfriend!" There was a second of stifling panic in which Ron thought Wait- I was her first boyfriend... are we married? But this was only magnified by a hundredfold when the name slipped from Hermione's slips. "Viktor!"
His breathing seemed to get shallower as he looked at her face, all smiles, and her unrevealing eyes. Not a truth or a lie, and since there was nothing there, he had to assume that she was telling the truth.
"H-how?" Ron managed to choke out, and Hermione took another long sip of coffee before answering his question.
"Well," she said, "after I left your house that night, the second one, I went straight to Viktor's house... I couldn't bear to go back to France, you know. And then... well, I didn't mean for it to happen, Ronald. But we slowly fell back in love."
She let out a loose, happy sigh, and Ron managed to say something along the lines of,
"That's great!"
Of course, what he was really thinking was, Did you just call me Ronald?
"He's my everything," Hermione said simply.
"Does Ginny know?" Ron asked. "I'd have thought she would have warn- er – told me."
"Yes, she knows. I've kept in touch with her, and your mum."
Hermione was still in touch with his mum? This was news to Ron.
"So, how about you and... 'Lav Lav'?" Hermione inquired. "What's the deal there?"
Ron, whose anger had reached a point of vindictiveness, plowed ahead with the most obnoxious and hurtful story he could think of.
"Well, after you left that night, the second time, I ran straight into Lavender's arms."
"What happened to... her? The other one," Hermione whispered, her eyes betraying emotion for the first time since Ron had said Lavender's name. In spite of the cold front Ron had been putting up, he became completely undone at this question.
"Hermione," he said quietly, "she was nothing. You know she was nothing." Hermione looked away, back towards that mother and baby, refusing to believe this. Ron, his stomach dropping, continued on with his story. "Well, Lavender and I spent months verbally tearing you apart and making lists of every single one of your flaws, and we grew closer over that time."
"Great base for a marriage," Hermione, whose eyes were now glistening with tears, snapped.
"Shut up," Ron growled. He wanted to tell her that he'd had a great base for a marriage before, but then everything had gotten mucked up. Unfortunately, he lacked the courage to do this, so he contented himself with a smoldering glare.
Hermione stood up very abruptly, brushing a tear impatiently from the corner of her eye.
"I have to go."
"I think you should."
Without exchanging any parting words, Hermione walking out of the coffee shop. Ron thought he heard a sob before the door slammed. As soon as he was sure she was gone he let out a loud groan and smacked his head onto the table. Well.
That probably could have gone better.
***
Once she was out of the coffee shop, Hermione gulped in a deep breath of air.
Then she promptly burst into tears. While her first instinct was to go to a bar and drink herself silly, she had a job interview to get to later that day, and it would not do for her to show up drunk. Quickly, she decided on the next best thing. She was going to see Ginny. Mentally picking herself up off of the ground, Hermione made her way over to The Leaky Cauldron and asked Tom if she could use his fireplace. He agreed to this, and Hermione flashed him a grateful smile, as this was not something he usually did. Maybe it was because she was Hermione Granger, or maybe it was because of how awful she looked- either way, she didn't care. She threw the powder into the flames, yelled out Ginny's address and, five seconds later, teetered unsteadily out of the fireplace in Ginny's living room.
"GINNY!" Hermione called out, her voice revealing how emotional she was feeling even though she had tried to keep it in check. "GINNY!"
Harry's untidy head appeared in the room two seconds later, looking at her curiously. Upon seeing the mascara streaming down her cheeks, he closed his eyes briefly and said,
"You saw Ron, didn't you?"
"Yes," Hermione choked out, "and why didn't you tell me?"
Now Harry was confused.
"Tell me what?"
"That he's engaged!"
Harry snorted.
"Ron, engaged? Seriously, Hermione, the arse hasn't left the house except to go to work in two years."
"Stop protecting me!" Hermione demanded shrilly. "Now where's Ginny?"
"The Burrow," Harry said promptly.
"Thanks," Hermione said quickly. "Why aren't you at work? Oh, and if you see Ron and he asks you about Viktor Krum, make sure that you say that I'm married to him."
"I have the day off and... WHAT?" Harry shouted, now seriously losing his grasp on what was going on. But without even pausing for an adequate explanation or even an goodbye, Hermione spun around and made her way back to the fireplace. By the time she spun out, the tears had started again, and they were coming down freely when she came out of the fireplace. Staring at her with looks of surprise upon their faces were Ginny, Mrs. Weasley and Luna, although the latter may not have been surprised at all- her expression looked quite normal for her.
"Bloody hell," Ginny said after taking in the state of her. "Hermione?"
"What did my son do to you now, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked kindly, and Luna giggled.
"He's getting married!" Hermione wailed, and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny exchanged shocked glances.
"He's... what?" Mrs. Weasley asked.
"No way," Ginny said. "No way."
"To who?" Luna inquired, and Hermione started crying even louder.
"Lavender Brown, of all people! I mean, honestly." Ginny's mouth fell open, but Hermione wasn't done yet. "And then, because he'd hurt me so much, I decided that I wanted to hurt him too. So I told him that I was married to Viktor Krum."
"But you haven't talked to Viktor Krum since you were nineteen!" Ginny cried.
"That's not true," said Hermione miserably. "I was still acquaintances with him... we wrote each other every once in a while. Ron saw a letter one day and he flew off the handle."
"Well, were you hiding it from him?" Ginny asked pointedly.
"No... but you know how he gets... and what does it matter? This happened three years ago! It wasn't even what we broke up over. It just sort of catapulted that."
"Would you like a cup of tea, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her motherly instincts taking over. Hermione nodded weakly and plopped into a chair, burying her head in her knees.
"I can't believe how stupid I am," came her muffled voice a few seconds later.
"Me neither," said Ginny in a disgusted tone of voice. "But he's stupid as well. Never forget that."
Mrs. Weasley came back with Hermione's tea, and she took it gratefully, sipping as she retold the pitiful tale to the trio of women that had been there to help her for so long. Through the frequent winces, Hermione kept on, trying not to break out into tears again as she voiced Ron's harsh words. When she finished, Mrs. Weasley started to say something, but Ginny threw her a warning look and turned to Hermione.
"Yes, Ron's engaged to Lavender," Ginny stated plainly, "and you're still in love with him. What are you going to do about it?"
Mrs. Weasley gaped soundlessly at her daughter, but Ginny refused to look in her direction, never taking her eyes off of Hermione.
"I'm going to emotionally kill him," Hermione said determinedly, and then she got up and grabbed her purse.
"Where are you going?" Mrs. Weasley asked, standing up with her.
"To talk to Viktor," Hermione said, her eyes cold and her mouth set. "I'm going to convince him to help me."
"Good luck, Hermione," Luna said sincerely. "and if that doesn't work, you can also get a werewolf to impersonate him."
Hermione stopped in her tracks.
"What?"
"Oh, didn't you know? Werewolves are also shape shifters!"
Ginny groaned.
"Luna, have you been reading bad muggle novels again?"
Luna looked guilty.
"Maybe."
Shaking her head, Ginny stood up and handed Hermione a hair brush.
"You're going to need this. And you'll also want to fix your make up. It's running all down your face."
"Thanks," Hermione said weakly. And then, to her surprise, Mrs. Weasley reached over and enclosed her in a warm, motherly hug that nearly made Hermione start crying all over again. She had always wanted Mrs. Weasley to be her mother-in-law, and for a while it had seemed that it was going in that direction. She'd had the ring and everything. And she'd even come back for it. But in one night she'd lost it all. The mother-in-law, the ring... the man. Why did life have to be so complicated? Hermione Granger had always thought that she would get older, get married, have kids, and that would be it. In that order, one after another. She hadn't expected herself to get her heartbroken so many times by the same man. If only the world was guaranteed to give everyone the ending that he or she wanted, like a fairytale.
But then, she supposed, the people who wrote the story of life wouldn't be nearly as entertained.
***
"Well, mate, you've done it again," Harry said, exhaling and leaning back in his chair. "You really have."
"Thanks," Ron said sourly. "Should I recite my speech now or save it for later?"
"Later," Harry said. "Then you can use it again for the arsehole of the year award."
"Oh, brilliant," Ron said sarcastically.
Harry seemed to regret what he said.
"Sorry mate," he sighed. "I just can't believe you initiated this whole thing."
"It's a good thing I did! If I hadn't lied about being engaged to Lavender, I would have been apparently single when Hermione told me she was married. Now tell me what to do."
Harry took a sip of his coffee as he considered. After a while of contemplation, he shrugged.
"I dunno. I've never been so stupid with Ginny. And since we're married, I think it's safe to say that she trusts me to never be so idiotic with her."
"Do I tell the truth?" Ron asked desperately. "Or do I just continue to go on with the lie?"
"No idea, mate," Harry shrugged.
Ron stood up and began pacing.
"Why don't we weigh the pros and cons?" he suggested, and Harry nodded at him.
"Alright. Pros for keeping up the charade."
"Hermione will be jealous," Ron said, his eyes glinting. "I love it when she's jealous."
"I really don't know why I'm even friends with you."
"Good to know. Oh, and Hermione will be under the misconception that I am happy."
"True."
"I'll get to wave it in Hermione's face, which will help me test the waters and see whether or not she still loves me."
"After what you did? Not bloody likely," Harry snorted.
"You mean with the whole lying thing?" Ron asked.
"No," Harry said. "Try going back about two years... Perdita..."
Ron paled.
"I try not to think about that night."
"So do we all."
Ron swallowed, but didn't say anything.
"Did you ever find out why she came back that night?" Harry asked, and Ron shook his head, turning around to look at his friend with fury on his face.
"Don't talk about it, alright?"
"Fine, fine," Harry said. "What are some cons of keeping up the massive lie, then?"
"I'll have to be around Lavender Brown a lot."
"Fair point, well made."
"If it all blows up in my face, that could be really bad."
"Could?"
"Would. Will be."
"Right. Oh, and if you pull this trick, Hermione won't be able to come to you and tell you that she isn't over you and that she wants to be with you."
"What does it matter? She's married to Viktor Krum. God, I hate that talentless little prune."
"Prune?" Harry said, momentarily distracted from the mention of Krum.
"I'm trying to lay off of the swearing."
"Since when?"
"Since Hermione got back."
"I have a headache," Harry moaned. He was doing everything he could not to tell Ron that Hermione was lying about Viktor Krum, but that wouldn't be fair to Hermione. "What are you doing this for, anyways? According to Hermione, she's taken."
"I'm not going to try to get her back," Ron said slowly. "Not unless she tells me that she isn't happy with Krum. But I do want revenge... and I want to know if she still loves me."
"Would that really bring you the closure you need to move on?"
"Harry, I've wanted her since I was fourteen. I'm twenty five now and cannot for the life of me see how I will ever stop wanting her. I just need to know if I was that replaceable to her."
Harry felt completely handicapped. He was unable to deal with the mushiness, the depression, and the plotting. All he really wanted to do was comfort Ron, but he couldn't tell him Hermione's lie. Just as he was trying to figure out some way to get Ron out of his house (which was plan B), Ginny's head appeared in the fireplace.
"Harry, I need you to get over to the Burrow right now."
Harry stood up and went to the fireplace. Ron made to follow him, but Ginny shook her head.
"Not you, dolt," she said in a bossy, sisterly tone. "Come on, Harry! It's an emergency."
Shooting Ron an apologetic glance (while inwardly dancing the conga), Harry stepped into the fireplace and arrived a few minutes later at the Burrow.
"What's up?" he asked.
"You've heard by now, right?" Mrs. Weasley questioned him, cutting to the chase.
"Yeah. What are we going to do?"
"Well, why don't you ask your wife? Because Hermione was just here, and we could have told her, but Ginevra insisted on keeping it quiet."
"Mum, how many times have I asked you not to call me Ginevra?" Ginny groaned.
"Okay, not the issue here," Harry cut in.
Ginny sighed.
"Don't you people get it? This is war. War of the exes. This is all about games and trickery, and hits and misses, and will they/won't theys. If we stop this, if we stop them, it'll just get worse. They need to play a few ex games before they can finally get together and be together. It'll hurt right now, but in the long run it will make their relationship so much better. And in the middle of all the ex games and anger and hatred, Ron and Hermione will realize that they're meant to be."
"Um... that all sounds good in theory, Gin, but I think it's a bit more complicated in real life," Harry said tentatively.
"Nonsense," Ginny said briskly, and, upon looking around the table and seeing the disbelief on the faces of her family members, she deflated. "Fine. Do you have a better idea?"
"Nope," said Luna.
"Not really," admitted Mrs. Weasley,
"Not a one," announced Harry.
Ginny looked satisfied.
"Good. Place your bets. It's game on."
