Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
I Don't Know You Anymore
Chapter 2
To Be Alone With You
A strong breeze ruffled the young man's hair, and he smiled at the feeling of every molecule gliding through his fire like strands. The feeling of cold air hitting his face made Ron feel free, it was like it almost, almost, made all his worries go away, and that was worth a lot. A smile flickered across his lips as another breeze met his thin face. The moment the could air touched his pale, rather bony looking face Ron suddenly felt so sorry for all those people that didn't get a chance to, just once in their life, feel the touch of a cold spring air hit one's face.
While the wind calmed itself and the birds settled down in a tree top many feet away Ron found that he had been standing on the bridge for far too long, and started to make his way to the other end of it. It was rather chilly but not too bad, Ron didn't bother pulling his opened cloak tighter around him. What was the point?
Walking down Westening Bridge, reaching the other side of the giant bridge, a feeling of safety overwhelmed Ron as he set one foot on the firm ground. He didn't know why, he loved standing on that bridge, watching the water, the birds. On that bridge he was happy. Watching the young birds flying around reminded him of Hogwarts, the place where he had spent the best seven years of his life, the place where he had gotten to know Harry and Hermione. The amazing old castle was the place where he had learned his first real spell, made his first real friend, shared his first kiss, fallen in love and gotten himself his first real girlfriend. It was all pretty ironic seeing as all of those things involved one particular girl, one who had been haunting his every thought from the moment that he had looked at her as not just one of his best friends but as that girl, that girl.
The sound of a strong breeze making its way through the top of the trees interrupted the young man's thoughts, if only for a second. When looking back at his life, his time with Hermione there wasn't many things that could take his mind off it. As he continued to make his way down the narrow path, leading away from the bridge, Ron's thoughts once again whirled around and landed on the same girl they always did.
He still remembered that day perfectly, every detail, every breeze, every scent, every movement, every shift in her voice, every shift in his.
Big raindrops, and loads of them, fell down around the huge castle and the sound that they made as they smattered against the castle windows made the feeling of cold and darkness, the feeling of fall, overwhelm you. There was no question about it; the autumn had arrived, not a second too soon or too late, just in time. It was late in the afternoon of the rainiest Saturday so far and even though it was pouring down Ron and Hermione had decided to go to Hogsmead for the day. With Harry having a lot on his mind they figured a good day of just rest seemed like a good idea for him. With You-Know-Who being back and Harry still taking occlumency lessons, being busy with school and with DA he had a lot on his plate. Not to mention that he was still mourning Sirius' death. If that wasn't enough he knew that it was his job, his responsibility to defeat the Dark Lord, and having everyone's lives trusted in his hands way was too much responsibility for a sixteen year old boy.
As the two teenagers wondered the streets of the largest wizard town in Britain Ron couldn't help but to think that it was nice, besides the horrible weather, rain pouring down from the sky and clearly wanting to drown him, it was nice. Some quality time with Hermione, with one of his best friends, it was always worth being nearly drowned for. The best part about it was that the streets were extremely empty. Hogsmead was empty. They had already been in Zonkos and Honeydukes, there had pretty much been just the two of them there. They same thing went for some old bookshop, not that that surprised Ron, and for a couple of other shops that they had visited. Ron had felt surprisingly comfortable in her company, not that he didn't otherwise, but today it had been different, he didn't know how or why, it had just been different. Lately everything had been different.
They had been wondering the streets of Hogsmead for hours when they found themselves standing by the fence surrounding the one house that no one else visiting the village would go near on a dark and rainy afternoon, the wind whistling through the tree tops. The house was said to be the most haunted building in Britain, but Ron and Hermione knew the truth about the sounds having escaped the ramshackle looking house years ago, they knew not to be afraid. But there was something about that building, something that made them both think, something that had made their non-stop chatting stop as soon as they leaned against the fence surrounding the Shrieking Shack.
Ron cast a glance at Hermione, and by the look on her face, the way her mouth wasn't entirely closed, the way her eyebrows were raised slightly and by the way her eyes glistened from water welling up only slightly in them he knew what went through her head. Lately it had been the same for both of them, for all of them, the main thought running through their heads; what was going to happen?
He lowered his gaze and inhaled deeply before he slowly moved his right hand slightly and closed his fingers around Hermione's. Ron didn't look at her, but couldn't stop the corners of his mouth to move upwards a bit, revealing his white teeth slightly when she intertwined her fingers with his. Swallowing hard Ron lifted his gaze and looked at the old house in front of them, before turning his head towards his right, looking at Hermione.
As soon as his gaze had travelled up to her face Ron couldn't help but to smile. He was standing there, all alone in Hogsmead holding Hermione's hand in his. It was now drizzling, but Ron paid no attention to that. He wasn't even aware of the grin that had spread across his face, neither of the fact that he stroke his thumb gently over the back of Hermione's hand.
But when she turned her head to her left and her eyes finally met his, after her gaze had been firmly focused on his shoes, he suddenly became aware of the fact that he had never been in love with her more. The way her chocolate brown eyes looked straight into his ocean blue ones, revealing only an inch of her soul and the way her lips curved into a shy smile when she looked at him. That moment he knew that he would never fall for anyone the way he had fallen for her.
Bending down his head slightly, closing his eyes a second after her, he leaned in. Thoughts he never had a chance to catch whirled around in his head. The only thought he had a chance to grab hold on was; "I'm going to kiss her, I'm going to kiss her…" With that one thought echoing in his head he leaned in more, he leaned in enough to feel her warm breath against his lips, and then he felt it. Drops, raindrops, more than he could count were falling down, hitting his face, his head, everywhere. It was pouring.
'Bloody hell,' muttered Ron, loud enough to drown the sound of the millions of raindrops hitting the ground, hitting every object in sight. Ron's very Ron-like comment made Hermione laugh slightly, revealing a set of perfect teeth. Ron couldn't help but to laugh along, it was just so typical.
Shaking his head, laughing, he looked at her. As she smiled at him, in a pause from the laughing fit, he smiled shyly and leaned in. The rush that went through his body as his lips met hers gave him the most perfect explanation to the meaning of the word "Love".
As Ron found himself back in reality he couldn't help but to smile, not just at the thought that lay among his favourite ones, but at the rain that had started to pick up. Shaking his head, which made his wet hair throw drops of water at each way, Ron pulled his cloak tighter around him to keep the rain from watering down his sweater. Looking around the young man found that he had been walking for quite some time, having reached the further end of Charles Street, being situated fairly far away from the huge bridge.
Considering the fact that he had been walking quite a far distance, Ron pulled up his left hand sleeve to check his watch, which was placed on his left wrist. With the minute hand pointing between a bold three and four, whilst the hour hand was slightly past the bold one and cero that symbolized the hour ten, Ron decided that it might just be time to head home. Even though Ron didn't feel like walking back to his empty, but big enough, apartment, where his only company was the bloody owl that had survived out through the years, he knew he had been out far longer than he usually was. He may not be expected by anyone, not even Pig, but he had grown accustomed to some routines. But that's how it was when you lived by yourself, wasn't it?
Turning left by the statue of a great old warrior Ron continued down Severe Avenue, down the hill towards a narrow path leading through the few trees which went under the name the Demson Woods. As he passed a bench, placed by the end of the path, next to a light post, Ron figured that it would take him less than twenty minutes if he took the short cut through Mellow Street, crossing Halmth Square and continuing down Egmont Avenue and turning left at St. Abimelech Street.
Even though he had a warm apartment waiting for him, with the possibility to light a fire, Ron felt no need to hurry. The rain had started to gather speed even more and with it almost pouring down Ron just pulled his cloak even tighter around him and continued his walk in normal speed. His hair was soaking, the same went for his cloak and shoes, but he didn't care, he didn't notice.
As he walked down Mellow Street Ron knew that he would pass it, he would have to walk past that small café, and as he neared it he couldn't help but to stop. Standing by one of the medium sized, rather dirty, windows, hundreds and hundreds of raindrops hitting his hair, hitting the window, the streets, he looked inside. The moment he looked through the rain stained window his gaze fell upon the dark red loungers, situated in groups, around rather small mahogany tables. The small, beautiful tables were made out of the same dark wood as the small, even more beautiful counter. On each table there were single candles, each in a very simple, but still fancy, candlestick.
The one room café was now dark, it seemed to be closed, which wasn't entirely strange considering the hours. There was not a single living soul in the dark room, not even an employee who had to stay being and clean up a possible mess. No, no employees and no visible mess, not even a left out napkin or a coffee cup someone had looked past. Everything was neat, and perfect, as always.
It had always been his favourite café. It had that perfect size, not too crowded, and they had the most excellent hot chocolate. Standing there, by the window, Ron felt it all coming back to him.
Suddenly Ron was back in his seventh year, he was seventeen again. The rain that had been pouring down on him, around him, had disappeared. The raindrops had now transformed into giant snowflakes, and the puddles of water covering the streets had been replaced with deep powdered snow. Still standing outside the brick walled coffee shop Ron looked into the now cosy looking café, which now had people warming it up, making it feel so welcoming. The red loungers still looked the same, the mahogany tables weren't the least bit different, neither was the counter. The candlesticks on the other hand looked newer than when he had looked into the window of the closed shop.
Everything about this scene was preserved perfectly in his mind, the way she had dragged him towards the café. They had been walking the streets, happy to get away from the worries that had been eating them up from inside, getting their minds on something else rather than the war. Giant snowflakes had been circling around in the sky; they had both been covered in them. The cold had started to get to them just as Hermione caught sight of it, and her face lit up. She had firmed her grip on Ron's hand and steered her steps towards the small café, dragging him with her.
When Hermione had dragged Ron up to the window leading into the shop he studied it, he noticed how small it was, the very small amount of people that were inside and turned smiling towards his girlfriend. Ron took a firmer grip on her hand and dragged her towards him, making her twirl around, her hair graciously soaring as she spun towards him, ending up standing face to face with her boyfriend. The smile that was playing across her lips as she looked at him was somewhat the reaction he had been looking for when making his acceded attempt to spin her towards him. Hermione's free hand searched its way up Ron's chest and continued up around his neck where it stayed playing slightly with the tiny curls of his hair, whilst Ron's free hand found its way around Hermione's waist where it seemed to fit perfectly. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he leaned down to place his warm dry lips on top of her pink ones, in a sweet short kiss, that easily could have deepened if Hermione hadn't broken away and made her way into the small café, dragging Ron, by the hand, after her.
Still staring into the dark abandoned café Ron was brought back to reality by a sudden flash of light, which he soon realised was a struck of lightning, followed by a loud thunder. He inhaled carefully, to not get a cough started, sparing him minutes of endless coughing, and looked around. The rain was still pouring down and the streets where totally empty, not a single soul could be seen walking in the puddles of water that covered the cobblestoned streets. Suddenly Ron felt lonelier than before, suddenly he missed the snow-covered streets he had just visited, the small amount of people that had sat in the café, sipping their coffees, tea or hot chocolates, he missed the snow and he missed the feeling that he got whenever he was around Hermione, he missed the way she had loved him, he missed her.
Ron felt a warm feeling rushing through his body at the thought of the girl that he loved, the girl that had once loved him back. Turning around and, once again, facing the dusty rain stained window Ron once again found him in the snowy alley eight years earlier. It was just as though he had his own secret pensieve, carried with him everywhere he went.
Leaning back in his large red lounger, making himself comfortable, Ron watched Hermione as she sipped her hot chocolate with a very satisfied look on her face. Her hair was no longer covered in snow and she had taken off her cloak, revealing her light blue, knitted, Weasley jumper that his mum had sent her for Christmas. Looking at her, sitting there, wearing her very first Weasley jumper, Ron couldn't help but to smile. Looking up Hermione seemed to notice him looking at her and she stopped sipping her chocolate and put her cup down with a questioning look on her face. Studying the grin that had spread across her boyfriend's face Hermione smiled charmingly and leaned forward. Putting her hands on top of the table she helped herself to lean forward close enough to Ron to kiss him firmly on the lips.
'Love you,' she said quietly, leaning her forehead against his before leaning back slightly and smiling mischievously, making a grin flicker across Ron's lips as he leaned forward and placed his lips graciously on top of hers.
'Love you too,' mumbled Ron against her lips as the kiss broke, both of them smiling rather shyly as they leaned back, picking up their respective cups of hot chocolate.
