"Yeah, Hermione was just telling me. Congratulations, mate." He seemed so sincere as he said this that Hermione felt a small part of her crumble. He must have gotten over her a long time ago, after all, it had been six years since that day when they had kissed. How silly of her to believe that a few words could change what another person felt. "Tea, Harry?" Oh of course, he'd offer Harry some tea.
"Actually Harry, my parents called me earlier. They'd like us to visit before we're too busy with the wedding plans. You wouldn't mind if we stopped by another day, would you Ron?" There was something in the air then, something that was so familiar to Hermione that she almost changed her mind. But before she could take it back and say that her parents could wait Ron cleared his throat and smiled.
"'Course not, Lav will probably be home soon anyway. She's not big on people being around after she's gone shopping, George says she's mad." He chuckled and ran a hand through his messy hair. Harry looked at him for a moment and shook his head, laughter in his green eyes.
"Er, well wonderful as that sounds we'll be on our way." Harry pulled Hermione towards him then and hugged her tightly. "See you. Tell Lav-Lav we said hello." Ron shook his head and ushered them out the door.
"Honestly Harry, that was seven years ago."
And with that the door was shut.
The air in the Burrow was thick with the smell of food cooking, a little congratulations dinner for Harry and Hermione according to Ron's dear old Mum. Not that he wasn't thrilled with the prospect, well actually, that was exactly it. When he first heard of the dinner he had hurriedly compiled a list of several reasons why he would not be able to attend the festivities. A list that was promptly shot down by Mrs. Weasley with the most scolding Ron had received since the howler back in his second year. Honestly, Ron really did hate himself for the way he was acting. The last thing in the world he wanted was for Harry to be upset with him and think he was not happy for the couple. Truly he was, but at the same time jealousy was practically eating him from the inside out.
"You know if you get any redder your face will be mistaken for a raddish." Ginny giggled and sipped her butterbeer as Ron glared at her from across the room. "Really Ron, stop it. I'm not the one you should be angry at. In fact, the only person you can blame for the way you feel right now is yourself. Hermione wasn't going to wait forever, it just took six years for you to finally understand that." Silence filled the room for a few moments before Ron collected enough of his wits to speak.
"What are you going on about Gin?" She sighed and walked over to the couch he had been occupying since he had arrived nearly three hours ago. Before Ron could protest Ginny sat herself down and rested a hand on his knee, giving him a knowing look that caused his face to go an even darker shade of crimson. He just might go redder then any muggle or wizard had ever dared before.
"Ron being your sister I have learned many things in our time together. One, you have this horrid fascination with orange that clashes terribly with your hair color. Two, you've been secretly collecting butterbeer bottles since your seventeenth birthday. Last but not least, you've fancied Hermione Granger since your second year at Hogwarts and even though it's been about eleven years you've never gotten over her." Again that awful silence as Ron was left trying to find a clever response, something to deny any of the things she had uttered.
"It's not like I wear anything orange." Ginny smiled at him and shrugged.
"You used to, and you should know by now that I'm never going to let you live that down." They could hear a sudden explosion of noise as Mrs. Weasley shrieked in excitement. "Well they must have arrived, we'd might as well save them before Mum breaks their poor eardrums." Ron nodded absently and looked away for a minute.
"I messed up Gin, didn't I?" He could feel her stand up and wrap her arms around him from behind.
"Yes, you did Ron. But I suppose you already know that you could fix it. You just need to decide whether it's worth it or not."
"Oh, this was wonderful Molly!" Hermione exclaimed as she finished taking the rest of the dishes back inside the Burrow. By now everyone had gone over to the field to play a game of Quidditch. After denying an invitation to join the games Hermione had insisted on helping tidy up a bit, explaining that it was the least she could do.
"Thank you dear, only the best for you and Harry." There was a slight pause as Mrs. Weasley raised her wand to quickly clean off a stack of dishes. "Although I always thought...well never mind. It's silly of me to bring it up at a time like this." Hermione watched her curiously as the older woman busied herself among another stack of dishes. It was obvious she was trying to avoid any type of eye contact.
"You always thought what, Molly?" Mrs. Weasley stopped then, finally turning away from her cleaning to look Hermione in the eyes.
"Ron used to talk about you all the time, you know. Oh, and the looks that he'd give you when your back was turned. It warmed my heart to see him so happy. I thought that eventually you'd be a Weasley yourself, dear."
"Oh." As soon as the word escaped Hermione's mouth she felt a sudden awkwardness that made any other form of communication impossible. It was a silly thing. Her a Weasley, who would ever imagine such an absolutely insane idea. After all, it's not like she had dreamed about it from time to time. Never imagined what she would wear, what the kiss would be like, or the smile that would be reserved just for her after they were properly married.
Such a silly, silly thing.
"Hermione are you alright?" Mrs. Weasley's voice was filled with such motherly concern that Hermione wanted to cry. She wanted to scream at her, tell her there was no reason to be worried about someone like Miss Granger. No reason to be so kind to someone that was so ready to marry a man she didn't love.
"Oh yes, I'm fine. I'm just a bit overwhelmed I suppose. I think it's best that I go upstairs now. Would you mind telling Harry that I was ill?" There was something like understanding in Mrs. Weasley's eyes and she smiled kindly.
"Of course, but don't worry about them, they won't be back for a few hours at least. You know how those Quidditch games are." Hermione nodded absently and turned towards the stairs and tried hard to control her emotions for at least a few more minutes. Before her foot landed on the first step Mrs. Weasley called after her one last time. "You know dear, I was your age once and if there's one thing I learned it's that you can't please everyone. No matter how hard you try someone will end up hurt. Just remember that you deserve some happiness too."
Happiness. Such a silly, silly thing.