It seemed to Ron that time was suddenly passing much faster than it had before the marriage law. He'd already been engaged to Hannah Abbott for three weeks. He hadn't seen her much, though, after the initial flurry of activity when the notices went out.
To be honest, Ron was glad that Hannah had stayed away. She was fine – quiet, unassuming – but every time he looked at her, Ron was reminded that she was his future wife, the mother of his future children, not Hermione, like he'd always imagined. He was embarrassed of how many hours he'd whiled away over the last few years daydreaming of marrying Hermione and starting a family with her. Since the battle, they'd been closer than ever. In fact, before the marriage law, Ron had been planning on proposing to her before summer's end.
And now that was all down the drain, Ron thought morosely as he paced the garden path. Hermione hadn't spoken to him in three long weeks, since the night that he and Hannah had signed their contract and set their wedding date. He really didn't see why she was so pissed off. It hadn't been but a few hours later that Hermione and Malfoy's wedding date had appeared on the list. What a kick in the gut that had been. Ron winced at the memory.
"Ronald!" His mother's voice called him from the kitchen window. "RONALD!"
He hurried back inside to see his parents sitting side by side at the kitchen table with one empty chair opposite them. That was never a good sign, he groaned inwardly.
"Sit, Ronald," his mom instructed. She pushed a plate of biscuits toward him. Never one to have a serious confrontation without food, Ron thought with a little smile.
"Son," his father began, "Hermione is moving out."
Ron was stumped. This wasn't great news, obviously, but he couldn't say he hadn't seen it coming. She wasn't speaking to Ron, Harry was spending most of his time at his own flat, and Ginny was going back to school before long. Hermione had loads of her own money, and no reason to stay at the Burrow. Of course she was moving out.
His parents exchanged a look that Ron couldn't decipher. "Ronald, you should talk to her. Have you tried to talk to her?" His mother looked concerned.
"Mom, Hermione's an adult. She can move out if she wants. And she definitely doesn't want to talk to me; she won't even look at me."
"Well, put yourself in her shoes, dear. Your wedding date was a huge shock to her."
"You said that you explained about the Abbotts."
"I did. I told her they'd encouraged you to marry sooner rather than later. But Ronnie, she should hear it from you. Have you tried to explain yourself to her?"
"Mom. I told you, she doesn't want to talk to me. And besides, since she's marrying Malfoy barely four months after, I don't think she has much room to talk. Honestly, I don't care that she's leaving. If she can't understand that I'm just as upset about this as she is, then she's daft and I don't want her around anyway."
"Rather harsh, son." His dad spoke up. "We want Hermione to feel welcome here. She's like a daughter to us, whether she's with you or not. We don't want her to feel that she has to get her own flat because you're being hostile."
Ron didn't think he'd been hostile. He'd been rather offended after his spurned attempts to talk with her, so… yeah, maybe he hadn't been super. But Ron felt that he really couldn't be blamed for that. His own girlfriend refused to speak to him. What was he supposed to do, get down on his knees and beg her to forgive him? The hasty wedding wasn't his fault. He shouldn't have to apologize.
"Stop being so stubborn!" his mother said firmly as she snatched away the biscuits and rose from the table. "She'll be moving to Malfoy Manor in May anyway. We want her here until then. She shouldn't be alone, the poor dear. I know for a fact that you haven't tried to comfort her in the last three weeks, Ronald. We raised you better than that. Now be a man, get upstairs and convince her to stay. Or ELSE."
Ron shuddered. His mother could be downright scary sometimes.
He knocked softly on Hermione's door. No answer. He went ahead and opened it; she was never going to answer.
"Generally you're supposed to wait for someone to say 'come in'," Hermione said coldly. She was sitting on her bed, a book in her lap. As usual. Ron couldn't help but feel a stirring within him. Even after three weeks of being at odds, he still loved her.
"Mione, I'm not going to lie. I've been sent up here to convince you to stay at the Burrow until your – your wedding." Ron winced. Her wedding to Malfoy. Her wedding to someone who was not him.
"Well you can relay the message that I'd prefer my own flat. I appreciate all that your parents have done for me, but there's no reason for me to stay."
Her huge brown eyes drew Ron in. There was so much sadness in them. He felt a barrier within him melt.
"Stay for me."
Hermione scowled. "Stay and watch you cozy up to Hannah Abbott? Stay and help your mother plan your wedding? Ron, I'd rather die."
He sat down beside her. She shied away from him, but he didn't give up.
"We have five months. I'm sorry, really sorry, that we only have five months. I wish that we could spend five eternities together. But five months together is better than being bitter toward each other and never speaking again."
"Three years would be better than five months, Ron. Five months is nothing."
He sighed. "I know. It creeps closer every bloody day. But the Abbotts are so scared, Mione. They genuinely fear for their lives. Her mom was killed by Death Eaters, remember? They're scarred. Her older brother practically threatened to kill me himself if I didn't marry her before the New Year."
"I didn't remember about her mom," Hermione said quietly, "Now I feel bad. I've been directing all of my anger towards her – and you, sorry – when it's all the God-awful corrupt Ministry's fault." She leaned against him.
"No, I should be the one apologizing. I should have talked everything over with you before signing the forms. I just… thinking of you with Malfoy… it's been making me ill, Mione. I didn't know what to say to comfort you, because, well, there is no bright side of this shite. And since I couldn't comfort you, I guess I avoided you. I'm really daft, I swear." Ron smiled a little as he clasped her hand. Hopefully she'd appreciate his self-deprecation.
Hermione was quiet for a long time, just gazing into his eyes and holding his hand. Ron began to feel that anticipatory tingling in his groin, hoping that maybe she'd forgiven him enough that they could start shagging again. Please, God, let her have forgiven him enough.
"I just don't think that we can stay a couple when we're engaged to other people, Ron. There are too many complications. Too easy to get hurt. If we go on sleeping together and acting normal, it will only make it harder come December when you'll have to start sleeping with Hannah."
Ron saw her point. But the blood was still rushing to his manhood as he gazed into Hermione's wide eyes… at her soft pink lips… the tops of her full breasts peeking at him from under the collar of her shirt…
"But Mione, it can't just end like this, you getting mad and moving out and us never speaking. I can't quit you cold turkey. We need to support each other, right? And… transition. Eventually." Ron hoped that made sense. His growing erection had left very little blood in his brain to help him string words together.
Hermione kissed him gently on the cheek. "Ron, I want us to be friends. Best friends, just like we always have been. But we can't date. I won't do that to myself – date you when I know full well there's an expiration date. I'm sorry."
Ron was desperate now. He knew that Hermione had to notice the bulge in his pants, she was just being cruel. "One last time?" he asked hopefully. He took her hand and guided it to his crotch, as he leaned in and tried to kiss her. But Hermione moved her head and jerked her hand away.
"Ronald. I love you, but you're being a pig. You need to respect my decision."
He bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from getting angry and throwing insults at her. She was being unreasonable. There was no good reason not to sleep together one last time. She probably just wants to see me beg, Ron thought. Well too bad.
"Fine, Hermione. See you around."
As he slammed the door to her room behind him, Ron heard a faint sob. Well, fuck. He thought things had been going well… she seemed to accept his apology… it was only when he'd tried to get her to have sex that she got mad. But Hermione loved sex. It didn't make any sense.
Ron lay in his bed, confused, pissed off, and still horny as hell. He thought about taking care of things himself, but all he could picture in his mind's eye was Hermione's body and her big brown eyes staring at him… which just made him angry all over again.
He tried to roll over and fall asleep, but he was restless. Suddenly, he heard a POP beside his bed. Thank fuck, he thought, Hermione's come around.
But it was Hannah. "Ron?" She asked quietly as she perched on the side of his bed.
"What?" Ron said, rather sharply. He tried to hide his obvious disappointment.
"I just wanted to check in with you… we haven't seen each other in a couple of weeks, and my dad says we're supposed to be staying in close contact…"
"Your dad can sod off," Ron mumbled under his breath. For a former Hufflepuff, Mr. Abbott sure was bossy.
"Sorry," whispered Hannah. She looked to be on the verge of tears. "I'll come back some other time. Just wanted to make sure you were okay. Sorry."
"Hannah." Ron spoke just before she apparated away. "I'm sorry. I'm being a git. Just a tough night. Come sit down." His boner still hadn't fucking given up, but Ron was under a thick enough quilt that he thought he could chat for a couple of minutes without her noticing.
"What happened? You don't have to tell me. Sorry."
"Stop apologizing. Nothing really happened. Just dealing with… all of it. I'm sure you have bad days, too, huh?"
"Sure. I mean it all sucks. I feel so guilty that my family wants us to be married so quickly. And the whole reason they're adamant about it is because I was in Dumbledore's Army and fought at the battle. If I'd just laid low… not fought… Maybe we'd be able to wait years. Maybe my mom would even…" A tear rolled down Hannah's cheek. Ron touched her hand. "But I know this has got to be hell for you and Hermione, you're such a perfect couple. I didn't even have a boyfriend, I can't imagine… She must hate me so much."
"Don't worry about her. Really. It doesn't matter. It's over with her anyway."
"Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry!"
"Quit being so fucking sorry, Hannah. None of this is your fault. Not the marriage law, not my shit with Hermione, and definitely not the death of your mother. You can't blame yourself for any of it."
Hannah threw herself onto Ron and hugged him. He could feel her chest heave with sobs as she buried her face in his neck. Oh, great, thought Ron. I was hoping we'd have a simple chat and she'd leave, and now we're having a bloody group therapy session. With a roll of his eyes, Ron patted Hannah's back and hair.
Her hair was soft. It smelled like vanilla. Against his will, he felt his still-hard cock begin to twitch with new arousal. Hannah's head was on his shoulder, she was sniffling softly. Ron continued to stroke her back. He knew he shouldn't, but…
When he tipped her chin up and brought his lips to hers, Hannah's soft mouth accepted his willingly. Ron silenced the part of his brain that was urging him to STOP NOW – he no longer cared. Hannah was pretty, and apparently willing, and she was in his bed. He didn't care to think any further than that.
Ron slipped a hand inside her shirt. Her breasts were small, but nice. Ron forced himself not to mentally compare them to Hermione's lovely huge ones. He leaned Hannah back onto his pillow and went to remove her pants.
"Ron, are you sure we should –"
"Shh." Ron cast a sharp glance up at her as he turned and cast locking and silencing charms on the door. Hermione was right across the hall, for fuck's sake. Once her pants were off, and his were pushed down over his hips, he laid himself over Hannah and whispered in her ear, "We're engaged, right? We're going to be married anyway."
Hannah looked unsure, but Ron's cock was burning with desire. He didn't have time to talk it over with her. He pushed himself inside of her, grunting as he thrust forward. Hannah gasped. She didn't seem very wet, he thought disdainfully, but reminded himself that he was moving rather quickly. Hermione had always told him that girls need foreplay. Well, fuck foreplay, and fuck Hermione. This wasn't about pleasing Hannah, anyway.
Ron grabbed at her small breasts violently. Hannah arched her back and moaned, but Ron couldn't tell if it was from pleasure or pain. His orgasm was close; he didn't really care. He continued to thrust forcefully. She was so tight, it felt like his cock was in a vice grip. He couldn't help but think of Hermione's soft, perfect pussy… Just the right size for him, like two puzzle pieces fitting together… and always dripping wet for him, too…
With that, Ron gave a final grunt and thrust, pumping his cum into Hannah, who now lay still underneath him. Finally, he thought triumphantly. He'd had that fucking boner for nearly an hour. He kissed Hannah again, in thanks, and rolled off of her. He knew full well that she hadn't gotten off…but they had the rest of their lives together. Besides, she seemed like the type that would take forever, and Ron just wasn't in the mood for that tonight. He closed his eyes and felt the warm glow of post-coital sleep come over him. Then he felt a tentative hand slip over his waist as Hannah curled up next to him in bed.
Ron flashed back to the countless nights he'd spent tangled up with Hermione in this very bed. This pale, thin girl who was trying to spoon him was most definitely not Hermione. He knew he'd never fall asleep with her here.
"Hannah, you should probably get home – I don't want your family to worry."
She slid out of bed and dressed silently. Ron hoped he hadn't offended her. He tried to think of something nice to say.
"Er, thanks for coming by tonight. I really… appreciate it."
"No problem," Hannah said stiffly. Yeah, she was definitely pissed, thought Ron. He sighed inwardly. He had to do something. It would be too much to have both Hermione and Hannah hating his guts.
He rose from bed and kissed Hannah soundly on the lips. She was resistant at first, but after a few seconds she seemed to soften, and returned the kiss.
"I want to see you again soon," Ron whispered in her ear. He really didn't care if the next time he saw Hannah Abbott was their wedding day, but he knew that now, he had to be a proper fiancé to her – now that he'd slept with her. She'd expect more of him.
He saw her smile and nod before she stepped back and apparated away. When Ron turned back to his bed, he saw dark smears across his sheet. Blood? The truth hit him like a brick wall. He'd just taken Hannah Abbott's virginity. And he'd been a complete brute about it. Bloody hell.
