A Man's Promise

Part Three: Confessions of a Ginger

He also knew the words that she would speak next, though he did not wait for her to say them, and he spoke them first. "I need to talk to you," he whispered nervously as she opened her mouth to speak.

They walked down the beach together, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist, which he had convinced himself he was doing it merely to help her walk, though she held him just as tight around his waist.

"How did you do it," Ron asked quietly, setting her down in the sand slowly. He sat down beside her, brushing his hands on his jeans to get the sand off his skin. "I know I wouldn't have been able to come up with that story if I was being tortured."

Hermione stared at him blankly as though she hadn't a clue what he was talking about. "What story?" she asked curiously.

Ron blinked dumbly in confusion; she was the one who came up with the tale, and she was the who had made it so convincing. "You know," he explained stupidly, "the one about the sword being a fake. It was brilliant." He sounded more like he was asking her about what she had told Bellatrix, as her brow wrinkled, making her look utterly confused. "You don't remember?" he asked slowly. Hermione shook her head, looking away sharply as if she was embarrassed. Ron stared at the back of her head for a moment, feeling terrible and helpless again. "Well," he mumbled, awkwardly patting her shoulder as if telling her a game well played, "It was amazing, very convincing."

That sat in silence for a moment, both looking in any direction beside at each other. Ron stared at the sand, etching little faces and hearts into the soft grains with his index finger, as Hermione rolled a small pebble around in her hand. "Were you afraid?" she asked finally, her voice quite hesitant and awkwardly timid. Ron frantically scrubbed her name that he had written in the sand, feeling the weight of her stare hit the side of his face.

"Uhhh..." he mumbled hopeless, as he felt his face begin to burn, "no. No I was fine. I had to keep it together for Harry's sake; poor bloke was a mess worrying about you. It was quite sad actually very sad to watch." Hermione nodded slowly, taking Ron by surprise. There was no chance she just believed that; he was a dreadful liar, but she appeared to take his story without fuss. Another vast, uncomfortable silence swept over as Ron's began racing. "Of course I was scared!" he wailed, nearly knocking Hermione to the ground with surprise, "I was bloody petrified!" He scrambled to his feet and started pacing in front of her, clutching his untidy ginger hair and rubbing the back of his neck like Lupin had months ago at Number 12. "You were just screaming in pain, and the only holding me back from saving you was a stupid floor! All I wanted to was get to you and help you and comfort you, but I couldn't because of Malfoy's damn charm! And Harry kept telling me to shut it! He didn't understand! I had never felt so useless in my entire life! Then Greyback was going to kill you, and I was so worried I wasn't going to get to you in time! You were going to die and it was all my fault! Then I just sat in the middle of Bill's kitchen praying to God that you would wake up, but you didn't. You were bleeding all over, and your lips were blue, and your face was white, and your blood was all over my hands, and my sleeves and my face! After Bill took you away from me, I just sat there and cried, then I ran to the bathroom and threw up! I tore off my coat and threw in the sink to wash off the blood. I wanted to see you, but if you were gone I- I just... I couldn't... I couldn't... just couldn't do it." His faded away into the sounds of water splashing onto the sand, as he dragged his feet and fell weakly to his knees and began sobbing quietly. "I'm sorry," he whispered, feeling her arms wrap around his neck and her shoulder tuck under his chin as she held him tight, "I tried to be brave, but I was so afraid the I had lost you." He sat trembling in her arms, holding her equally as tight, burying his face in her hair. "I'm sorry Hermione," Ron murmured desperately, "I'm so sorry. I just-"

"It's not your fault," she whispered loving, pulling away from him.

But he couldn't let her go.