A/N: Sorry for the long break between chapters. Real life has been nuts and I was a bit of a perfectionist about this chapter. Anyway, all I'll say is I do love me a good Romione fight... and I hope you do, too. :) Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Shame and Fortune

Ron was frozen. Time had stopped and he suddenly found himself unable to breathe because all the air had been knocked out of him. An odd buzzing sound now filled his ears and everything around him seemingly disappeared except for her, as she stood right in front of him.

Hermione Granger: his former best friend, ex-girlfriend, and possible love of his life.

As she walked into the room, smiling brightly, he stared, stunned, and rendered temporarily mute and dumb by her presence and the distant knowledge that he had desperately missed looking at her. How was it that she could look exactly as he remembered while simultaneously completely different? She seemed older and more mature, yet as she smiled, her face still lit up in the same, girlish way from when they were young. Her bushy hair somehow looked softer to the touch and far better tamed, as well as shorter than what he remembered, though he supposed after three years that shouldn't come as much of a surprise. Cheeks still pink from the wind outside, the color only seemed to make her skin glow, and her lips were painted a soft, rosy shade, while her eyes–

Merlin, those eyes…

Ron had long come to accept the fact that he would most likely never get the chance to look into her dark, brown eyes again. But somehow, against all luck and logic, she was here and she was as real as anything he had ever seen in his life. Wearing a smart, silky white blouse and a dark blue, knee-length skirt, she sidled up to Chris who looped an arm around her back and pulled her close. Standing there, they were a perfectly put together duo with their polite smiles, posh clothing, and surrounded by their giant, magnificent manor. But as Ron watched Hermione stick her hand out towards Tony, a painful knot pulled at the bottom of his stomach and he gritted his teeth.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," she said, still smiling brightly and for one wild moment, Ron genuinely wondered if she hadn't seen him. However, as she shook Tony's hand she glanced in his direction and Ron watched as a shadow drew across her face and a small frown met her brow. But almost as soon as it appeared, it was gone again.

"It's very nice to meet you, Ms. Granger," Tony said politely.

"Oh, please, call me Hermione. Ms. Granger makes me feel like my mum."

Ron continued to stare in disbelief as she laughed airily, but now he could feel something else building inside him – something familiar and oddly comforting, if long dormant. Why was he the only one who could barely seem to contain himself while she was totally unruffled? How could she ignore him so easily and act as though nothing was wrong? And why did she get to be poised and polished and bloody perfect while he looked like a moronic sideshow act?

Suddenly, and irrationally, Ron felt a surge of fury shoot through him.

"Speaking of your mum, how is she? Did you have a successful shopping trip?" Chris asked, showing Hermione into one of the high-backed chairs and signaling something to Benson who hurried noiselessly out of the room.

"She's fine and we had a lovely time. There's still a lot left on my list, but it was nice to be out with her."

"Hermione's parents are Muggles," Chris explained as he sat in the chair next to her, still staring at her. "They spent the morning together, working on finding some new items to replace those that were lost in the fire."

"Which would explain the Muggle clothing," Tony said as he walked over to the sofa and sat down. Ron followed suit, his movements slightly stilted and unnatural, as he sat directly across from Hermione.

Hermione smiled again. "It's not that my parents aren't used to Wizard robes by now, but I have a feeling the rest of London would have found them to be a bit odd." She looked over at Chris. "And how about you? Where you able to explain the change in your situation…?"

Chris sighed. "My day's been as was to be expected, love." Ron's blood boiled at the term of endearment, and he hastily covered a disdainful snort with a cough. "My meeting this morning took longer than planned and then I got a bit carried away showing Anthony and Ronald around the manor. I was actually just about to explain to them the circumstances surrounding your flat." Chris took her hand into his and stroked it with his thumb. Ron gripped the sofa, his knuckles turning opaque.

The doors to the sitting room rattled open from behind them and Benson re-entered carrying a silver tray with a tea set, plates, and a platter full of sandwiches.

"Thank you, Benson," Chris said as the old man bowed deeply and exited the room. "I know you all must be hungry. Please, eat." He gestured to the food in front of them and then grabbed a plate himself. "Tea?" he asked Hermione, who nodded.

Tony reached for a sandwich, but when he offered one to Ron, Ron shook his head no. Although his stomach growled in protest, he felt his hunger ebb away as he watched Chris hand Hermione a teacup, his hand lingering on top of hers slightly longer than seemed necessary.

"So, what happened to your flat?" Tony asked. "Chris mentioned something about a fire."

Hermione nodded, placing her cup down on the coffee table in front of her. "I live in a Muggle owned building in London and about a week ago, a fire burned down most of the unit. It was quite scary – most of the tenants, including myself, were inside our flats when it happened. One minute, I was in my room reading and then the next, I smelled smoke and heard people shouting. It all happened rather quickly – I had just enough time to grab my cat and a few small, personal effects and get out."

"That explains the book..." Ron muttered.

All heads turned in his direction, somewhat taken aback by this sudden comment. Hermione looked confused and for the first time since arriving, addressed him directly. "What do you mean?"

Ron felt his ears burn, and tried to shrug. "I noticed an old copy of Hogwarts, A History on one of the shelves earlier."

"But how could you have possibly known it wasn't Chris' book?" Hermione said innocently, but Ron could practically see her gaze sharpen.

"I—er," he scrambled. "When I opened it, I thought I saw…er, feminine handwriting inside, is all."

"The whole ordeal sounds awful all the same," Tony interjected, turning back to Hermione. "Any word on what may have caused the fire?"

Hermione tore her piercing gaze away from Ron and turned back towards Tony. "The Muggle fire services are still conducting an investigation, but they believe it was due to faulty electrical wiring. The building is old and while the property managers have done a fairly good job at maintaining it, it's highly likely it was caused by something as simple and mundane as that."

"And what about the Ministry? What has their investigation shown so far?" Tony asked as he took a sip of tea.

"Well, nothing yet," Hermione said and Ron watched as she nervously folded her hands in her lap. "As I said, with the building being older and Muggle built and owned, and not to mention the fact that I'm quite certain I'm the only witch or wizard who's living there, the chances of it being magic-related are slim. Also," Hermione's eyes darted surreptitiously towards Chris, "not many people know of my connection to Chris, so it's not something that's triggered any further investigating. Really, there hasn't been a need for the Ministry to get involved."

"Honestly, Hermione, the fact of the matter is the Ministry, and you, have yet to take what happened seriously. You could have been hurt!" Chris shook his head in disgust and although he hated himself for it, Ron found himself secretly agreeing. "I know I won't feel better until I know what caused the fire, and until then, having you close by feels more important than ever." Chris placed a hand atop Hermione's as they sat in her lap, and she gave him a thin smile in return. Ron clenched his jaw as he watched.

Tony nodded. "This is all good information to have, and I appreciate you telling us. Once we're a bit more settled in, I think it would be best if Ron and I sit down with you and go over some of the other particulars of that evening and the days leading up to the fire."

"Is that really necessary?" Hermione asked, her voice slightly higher as her cheeks flushed. "I don't want to be a bother or a distraction to your case, especially since you're both here to offer your support and services to Chris and what's been going on with his business, not to try and determine the cause of a fire at the block of flats I happen to live in–"

"You can't seriously be surprised you've made yourself a target by being close to him, can you?" Ron scoffed, trying to keep his voice steady, as his heart beat erratically in his chest. "He's been getting threatening letters for months, not to mention he's one of the most visible and well-off businessmen in Europe. How could you not see a connection?"

Ron locked eyes with Hermione and watched as she pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze. A small thrill sparked inside him and he stared defiantly back. Chris and Tony, however, seemed completely unaware of the silent standoff occurring and continued on.

"I agree with Ronald," Chris said, giving Hermione's hand a quick squeeze before turning back to Tony. "I've been saying the same thing all week – that the timing is too coincidental and she needs to be smart about this, but she's been quite resistant to the idea. But as I said before, all the more reason for her to be here, especially now that you two will be living at the manor."

Hermione wrenched her eyes away from Ron, her icy gaze now fixed on Chris and she opened her mouth to respond, however, it was Tony who spoke next.

"No detail is too small when it comes to helping with our investigation of the threats being made against you, Mr. Rhiney." He stood up. "However, while it's been very nice meeting you both if you would please excuse me, I need to get in contact with the Ministry right away to let them know of the changes to our plans."

"I'm not causing any problems, am I?" Hermione asked.

Tony shook his head. "Not at all. Just standard protocol."

She smiled wanly. "I'm sure Chris has already let you know how grateful he is to the Ministry for doing this, but please know how thankful I am as well. It means a lot that you're willing to come here and help and I have every reason to believe that you two and the Ministry will catch the men and women who are doing this."

"That's our job, ma'am," Tony bowed his head momentarily, then headed out the doors towards the rest of the house.

From the corner of the room, the grandfather clock chimed loudly, and Chris almost immediately jumped out of his chair. "Ah! It appears as if I've completely lost track of time again. I must steal away for another meeting, although my hope is this one will be much shorter than the one this morning. Ronald, if you or Anthony have any questions about the protections we have set up, Benson will be your best asset. Otherwise, I am happy to speak with you two later this evening."

"You have another meeting? Now?" Hermione's eyes were wide as the pitch of her voice went up another octave. "Are you sure you can't push it?"

Chris patted her hand and shook his head. "You know I can't but, as I said, it shouldn't take too long. Go ahead and finish eating and I'll check in with you later." He leaned down to kiss her forehead, then turned on his heel and swept out of the room, leaving Ron and Hermione alone together.

The ringing silence that followed was deafening. Seconds seemed to expand into infinity and the only sound was that of the quiet, rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock. Ron sat glued to the sofa, the palms of his hands sweating and his blood pulsing through his veins. While Hermione seemed content to stare out the window and act as if nothing was wrong, Ron could feel the simmering anger he had been pushing down begin to boil over.

"So..." he finally said after what seemed like an eternity. "So..."

Hermione finally turned and gave him a distasteful look. "So what?"

"Oh, come off it," Ron spat as he rolled his eyes.

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest as she began jiggling her foot. "I don't believe I know what you're referring to."

"For Merlin's sake, Hermione, you know damn well what I'm talking about!" he exploded, as his heart hammered inside his chest.

Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously. "What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you I'm thrilled to see you? Or lie and say this isn't literally my worst nightmare come true?"

Ron cringed but continued on angrily. "Really, Hermione? That's what I am for you? Your worst nightmare?"

"Oh, does that hurt your feelings? Here, allow me to start over." Hermione put on a fake cheery tone, her foot still jiggling relentlessly. "Hello, Ron! It's so nice to see you! Goodness, it's been ages!" She tapped a finger to her chin. "I believe the last time we saw each other, we got into a massive row and you left me utterly gutted in your parents' backyard, but let's not think about that and we'll just act as though we're best friends again!" She rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, there's a brilliant idea."

Ron's pulse thundered in his ears. "So your plan is to what? Ignore me? Pretend you have no bloody clue who I am? How long do you think you can keep that up for?"

"And what, pray tell, would you suggest?" she snapped.

"You could at least acknowledge my presence! It's not like I planned for this to happen!" Ron watched Hermione's eyes grow wide with indignation.

"And what about me?" she said as she pointed a finger at her chest. "Do you think I imagined for even one second you would be here?"

"Well, join the club, because I damn well had no idea you'd be here either! Or did you not see the stupid look on my face when you walked in?"

"I suppose I couldn't see a difference between how you looked when I walked in and how you always look," she said coldly.

Ron swallowed painfully and gave a derisive snort. "Nice, Hermione. Real nice. Tell me, does it ever get lonely up there on your pedestal, looking down on all the rest of us? Or have you just gotten used to it? I'd imagine it's easier now, especially since you've started spending all your free time cozying up to the likes of Christopher bloody Rhiney!"

Hermione growled. "You are such a– a–"

"A what?"

"A child!"

"Yeah? Well, I'd rather be a child than a snob!"

"My God, you are absolutely unbearable!" she cried.

"And you think you're a bloody picnic right now?" he snapped.

"FINE!" she shouted as she threw her hands up in the air, her foot still jiggling mercilessly. "You win, Ron! I'm insufferable and a snob and this whole situation is clearly worse for you than it is for me! Is that what you want? Are you happy now?"

Ron gripped the edge of the sofa painfully and his face flushed with anger. He grunted and turned to look out one of the giant windows, his brain unable to muster up a response. Hermione shook her head as she scowled at him.

"At least tell me this, since you seem to care so much: how would you have me explain this lovely little situation to Chris?" Ron's stomach lurched at the sound of the businessman's name coming from her mouth and he whipped his head back towards her. "Well? I mean you must have some idea since you seem to have such strong feelings on the matter! Should I wait until we're all at dinner tonight and bring it up to him then?"

For a fleeting moment, Ron thought of trying to stop her – to apologize and attempt to reach some sort of ceasefire, even if it was temporary. But as words continued to tumble from her perfectly painted mouth, Ron felt his anger grow from a white-hot ember to a dark, menacing blaze.

"Or, better yet, maybe I'll wait until Chris and I are in bed, and I can whisper in his ear, 'You know that young, ginger-haired Auror staying down the hall from us? Well, he's actually the Ronald Weasley who helped Harry and me defeat Voldemort. Oh, and by the way, we used to date, so I hope that doesn't bother you!'"

Every word she spoke rained down on him like a punch and Ron shook with barely suppressed rage as he clenched his fists tightly.

"You don't need to be so bloody sarcastic!"

"Oh, I'm sarcastic?" she screeched. "When every single word out of your mouth is dripping in contempt? Honestly, you have some nerve coming here and blowing up at me!" She gripped the arms of her chair, her face red with fury. Closing her eyes briefly, she took a long, steadying breath. "Obviously this is an awful situation, but there isn't a lot we can do to change it unless you quit or I move out. And since neither of those are practical or realistic options, and you can't seem to come up with any better ideas as to how we should handle this, I'm going to continue on with my current course of action and yes, act like I don't know you!"

They sat there for a few minutes, silently seething and breathing heavily. Ron was so angry, he felt light-headed. He knew that even if he wanted to, there was no way he could go back to the Ministry and tell Kingsley he couldn't be on the case just because of the history between Hermione and himself. And regardless of the fact that it made his blood boil and his stomach churn painfully to think about, he knew there was no chance Hermione was going to leave either.

None of this, of course, made him feel any better. In fact, it made him feel worse.

Hermione was still jiggling her foot rapidly, an old nervous habit of hers he recognized from when they were in school. But now, as she sat across from him, her hair crackling with electricity and her eyes filled with loathing, Ron realized that this was not the same Hermione he had known from his youth. This Hermione was different; she was angry, yes, and certainly angrier than he had seen her in a long time. But more than that, she was unkind and defensive and clearly unafraid to let him know just what she thought of him. The fiery resentment residing inside Ron's chest hissed and popped as he glared back at her.

"You know what, Hermione? You're right."

She stared at him distrustfully. "What?"

He leaned back into the sofa and rested his arms across the top of it. "I said you're right. Why should we act like we know one another when it's obvious we don't?" Hermione's expression faltered, and he pressed on. "You see, the Ron Weasley you knew from Hogwarts isn't the same Ron Weasley sitting in front of you today. And you? Well, the Hermione Granger I knew would never have thought of shacking up with a man just because he's well off. But clearly, that doesn't bother you one bit."

Ron watched as her jaw dropped. "You–you–" she spluttered.

"Don't act so offended, love," he said mockingly. "You know damn well how this looks."

Hermione swallowed hard as the color drained from her face and sat quietly for a moment. However, when she spoke again, her voice was trembling with rage and emotion.

"How dare you! I have every right to be angry. But you?" She shook her head indignantly. "You're just a bitter, jealous, lonely little man who's clearly unhappy and unfulfilled with your own life. And now that you're being forced to watch as I move on with someone else – someone better than you – you can't handle it because it makes you feel so pathetic and inferior, your head spins! But you know what, Ron? Just because you're miserable doesn't mean I have to be as well. You may be sad and nasty and lonely but guess what? I don't care!"

Hermione stood up from her chair and towered over Ron, whose mouth now hung slightly open as his arms slipped off the top of the sofa. She pointed a shaking finger at his chest.

"You did this, Ronald Weasley! You put all of this into motion three years ago and I'll be damned if I let you lash out at me or somehow blame me for your own shortcomings or the position we find ourselves in now. So, kindly? SOD OFF!"

She stared at him a moment, her eyes glossy but with a hint of triumph behind them. Then, with her head held high, she whipped around and marched out of the room, slamming the doors behind her and leaving Ron thunderstruck.

Ron stomped upstairs to his room, trying not to slam the door behind him before throwing himself onto the bed. He began punching the oversized pillows over and over again until they started to release tiny clouds of soft, white feathers and when he was finally exhausted, he watched as they floated lazily around him and landed noiselessly on the bed. With a groan, he rubbed his face roughly as he tried to scrub her words from his brain. Was Hermione right about him? His chest ached as if in response and he felt himself sag with regret, his insides burning with guilt and his head throbbing miserably.

His stomach growled painfully and with another groan, Ron dragged himself up off the bed and over to his rucksack, fishing through it in search of something to eat. Pulling out an assortment of jeans and shirts, a particularly worn pair of balled up socks, and a set of dark blue dress robes, his hand found the corner of a box that distinctly felt like it belonged to a chocolate frog. As he grasped it, his fingers brushed against a small, metal tube the size of a cigarette lighter and suddenly, all thoughts of chocolate frogs and hunger pangs left his brain.

Sitting back on the floor and drawing his knees up to his chest, he slowly pulled the Deluminator out from the bottom of his bag. Rolling it between his fingers, he clicked it open and watched as light from around the room whooshed through the air and collected inside it, creating a flame-like point. Ron closed his eyes, letting the darkness envelop him and in an instant, he was transported back to early Christmas morning at Shell Cottage years before. He could feel the tiny ball of blue light enter his chest, warm and soft, and it filled him with a sense of purpose. He was going to find them. He was going to find her.

To this day, Ron still wasn't completely sure of how it worked, or why. But the fact that it had been her voice he'd heard that morning – that she was the reason he could get back to them – had never been a surprise. She'd always had that power over him, whether she realized it or not. And he knew that no matter how much time passed, and no matter what happened between them, he would still do anything for her.

Ron clicked the Deluminator again and released the light back into the room. Standing gingerly, he noticed a small pouch of silvery powder sitting on a bookshelf nearby and felt like a light went off over his head. Grabbing a pinch from the bag, he flung it into the fireplace and watched as bright, green flames erupted instantaneously. Kneeling back down again, he took a deep breath, stuck his head inside, and said in a clear, firm voice, "Number twelve, Grimmauld Place!"

His body was still firmly planted on the floor in Rhiney Manor, but when Ron opened his eyes, he could see the fire swirling around his face and almost as quickly as it had started, it stopped again showing the kitchen to Harry's home.

"Harry! Harry, are you there?" Ron called out, but the room was silent. He turned his face to the side, attempting to crane his neck as he tried to look around. "OI! HARRY POTTER! GET YOUR ARSE OVER HERE!"

There was the sound of rapid footsteps and Ron watched as Harry came skidding into the kitchen, a piece of parchment crumpled in his hand, and a bewildered look on his face as he scanned the room.

"Ron…?"

"Down here, you git!" Ron laughed. Harry glanced down at the fireplace and smiled warmly as he saw his best friend's head floating in the grate.

"Is everything okay? You were shouting like a madman," Harry said as he pulled a chair over and sat down. "How was it meeting the famous Christopher Rhiney? Is he everything you dreamed he'd be?"

A flicker of anger rose up in his chest again, and Ron scowled. "He's like if Lockhart and Slughorn had a baby, and then that baby grew up to be a giant wanker," Ron said darkly and Harry sniggered. "He's obnoxiously well off and knows it, he loves to brag about himself and all the famous people he's friends with, and he's disturbingly overly-cheerful. Seriously – he didn't stop smiling or shut up about himself for almost two hours. Until…"

"Until what?" Harry frowned.

"Until…" Ron sighed. "Until Hermione showed up."

Harry stared at Ron, dumbstruck. "Wait. What?"

"Hermione. She's here."

"Hang on – what the hell is Hermione doing at Christopher Rhiney's place?"

"She lives here with him," Ron said slowly, his heart rate ticking upwards.

Harry gaped and placed the parchment he was holding down on the table. "Wow. I…wow."

Ron was quiet a moment. "You really didn't know?"

"Know what?"

"About Rhiney and–"

"Of course not," Harry cut him off definitively. "Do you really think I'd have let you walk out of the Ministry without so much as a warning? Or that I wouldn't have immediately sent Hermione an owl, giving her a head's up? I didn't even know she was dating someone, let alone that she'd moved in with him."

"Well, apparently the living together part is new. There was a fire in her building in London last week so she's moved in with him until the unit's repaired."

"A fire? You're joking!" Harry's eyes were wide. "Is she all right?"

"She's fine. If anything, she seemed to want to avoid talking about it altogether," Ron replied. "It was weird, how nonchalant she was about it. But the Muggles aren't sure what caused it and the Ministry hasn't gotten involved yet, so Tony went to let Gemma and Kingsley know right after we heard."

Harry let out a low breath. "So, have you talked to her yet?"

"Not exactly…" Ron looked away as he trailed off, his mind flooding with images of the scene from earlier, and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him.

Harry looked at Ron warily. "Please tell me you didn't have a row with her in front of everyone."

"Not in front of everyone," Ron muttered as his ears burned. "Tony left to send word to Kingsley, and then Rhiney had to step into some meeting or whatever, so it was just Hermione and me. And I —well, I got angry." Harry stared at him skeptically and Ron looked down sheepishly. "Look, I flew off the handle and took it out on her. I know it was stupid, but it happened."

Harry frowned. "What did you say?"

"Er –" he started uncomfortably, "In short order, I called her a snob, told her she'd changed for the worse, and then accused her of dating Rhiney for his money."

Harry stared with his mouth wide open. "I can't believe you're still alive, let alone Flooing me right now. I'm guessing she didn't take that well?"

"She told me off so soundly, you'd think she'd practiced it. Actually," Ron added, "now that I think about it, she probably did. Anyway, she told me I was bitter and unhappy with my own life and that seeing her with Rhiney just reminded me of how pathetic I am. Then she told me this was all my fault. Oh, and then she told me to sod off."

Harry's eyes looked as though they might pop out of his head. "Merlin, she must have been apoplectic."

"Yeah, well, like I said, it…got out of hand," Ron finished lamely. "That was the end of it, though. She stormed out and I haven't seen her since."

They sat quietly for a moment, and Harry hesitated before asking, "So, what are you going to do? Do you think Tony or Rhiney have any idea about the two of you?"

"I don't think so, though Tony might suspect something's up if he's talked to Kingsley. But there are enough Weasley's in the world that it's possible Rhiney doesn't realize yet that I'm the one who's friends with you. But honestly, mate, I have no idea what's going to happen now. Kingsley might decide I can't work on this case because of my history with Hermione, and even if he gives me a chance…" he trailed off miserably.

"Do you even want to?" Harry asked. "Work on the case, that is?"

Ron sighed. "I mean, it's not ideal, having to basically work as security for some rich pillock, but this is a huge case. But, now that I know Hermione's involved and possibly in danger because of some arsehole she's seeing, I just…" Ron shook his head. "I can't leave. Not now. It's… she's…"

"She's Hermione," Harry said quietly and Ron nodded slowly as he swallowed past the small lump in his throat. "Then I think you tell Kingsley that. Maybe not the bit about you and Hermione, but the part about how the case is too important to walk away from. He knows what you're capable of and if you say you can do this, then you can. Just, you know, maybe try and avoid having a go at Hermione again." Harry's voice hardened slightly as he continued. "She has a point, you know. It is sort of your fault you're in this situation, and you can't get mad at her for moving on."

Ron insides burned with shame. "I know, I know. I just…" he tried to continue, but words escaped him. "I know I'm the one who ended it with her, but I can't pretend I'm fine with sitting back and watching her with this wanker. It was bloody awful today, and that was for less than an hour."

"Yeah, you were always rubbish at keeping your anger in check when it came to Hermione and other blokes. But you have a job to do and that's what you should focus on. Concentrate on working with Tony to figure out who's making these threats towards Rhiney. Maybe we'll get this thing solved quickly and then you can move on, too."

"Right..." Ron said miserably.

Harry considered Ron carefully for a moment. "Ron, I know we've haven't talked much about what happened between you and Hermione. But I also know you and… well, I know you regret ending things with her. And yes," he continued as Ron looked up at him, wide-eyed, "I know that even though you've never admitted it. But the thing is, Hermione's the closest thing I have to a sister and even though you two had a falling out, she and I are still close and she and Ginny are close, too, and –" Harry struggled for a moment, then pressed on. "Look, all I'm saying is if you think you still have feelings for her, then maybe you should consider telling her. If not for her sake, then for your own."

Ron snorted. "Harry, mate, you didn't see her today. The way she looked at me and the things she said… she hates me. I mean, actually, deeply hates me. She said my being here was her worst nightmare."

Harry smirked. "Ron, if there's one thing I know about women—"

"Oh, really, Mr. Most Eligible Bachelor runner-up?"

"Do you want my help or not?" Ron stifled a laugh and nodded. "Clearly, this isn't my field of expertise, but I know Hermione and I know you and all I'm saying is maybe she got as angry as she did with you because there's something else there. And yeah, Christopher Rhiney's rich and charming or whatever, but that doesn't mean that he's 'the one.' I mean, she loved you once, didn't she?"

"Yeah," Ron said sadly. "Yeah, she did."

"Then maybe there's a chance she never stopped."

Ron glanced up at Harry and saw a small smirk on his face. "So, you're telling me you actually believe there's a chance she still cares about me and that she doesn't want to pour undiluted Bubotuber pus down my pants?"

"Did she say that to you?" Harry asked, horrified.

"No, I just feel like she might not be against it."

"Well, strangely enough, I think her blowing up at you kind of proves that she still feels something. Otherwise, she wouldn't have really reacted at all. But after what you said to her today, and considering your history together, I reckon you're going to have a hell of a time getting her to admit it." Harry sighed and shook his head. "Ron, just be nice to her. It's going to be awkward, especially after what happened this morning, but if you apologize and mean it, then you'll at least have gained some ground with her and right now, that might be the most you can hope for."

Ron gave a half smile. "I'm a fucking mess."

"Careful – that's my best friend you're talking about."

"Ah, don't go all soft on me now, Potter!"

As they laughed, there was a knock at Harry's front door. "Damn. That's probably Sean. I'd better go."

"Thanks for listening to me whinge."

"It's the least I can do," Harry said with a grin. "Ron, seriously mate, just keep your cool and at least think about apologizing. Then go from there."

"All right, all right! Tell Sean I say hi." And with a small pop! Ron pulled his head out of the fireplace.

Sitting on the floor again, Ron stared ahead at the empty grate as Harry's advice rolled around his brain. There was no easy or quick way to fix things between him and Hermione – that he knew for sure. And while Harry seemed confident that Hermione still cared for him, Ron couldn't quite forget the venom with which she had flung her insults at him earlier. Still, apologizing, or at least trying to, definitely couldn't make things any worse than they already were. And just as he always had, Ron knew that when it came to Hermione, he would do whatever he needed to in order to keep her safe.

Ron glanced down at the Deluminator in his hand and with a small grimace, he pocketed it. Then, standing up, he gathered all his courage and walked out the door.