Ch. 7 Lessons in Painful Wisdom
A/N: My apologies about the tardy update on this story. Real life got in the way. - D.G.
The silence stretched out until a racket of a noise from the window. "Oh lord, it's Pig. I wonder what he wants." Hermione got up from her spot on the couch, walking to the rather cold window of their room. She brought the rather frozen and yet energetic owl into the rather warm room, intending to let him stay the night with them. "Pig, it's too cold for you to go back out tonight. You stay with us, where it's warm. Let me get you some crisps for you to nibble on." She set a few broken ones in the bowl next to him, letting him munch and get warmer.
"What's the note?" I asked quietly from my perch on the couch. My head was fuzzy yet not to the point of spinning.
"It's from Harry. He's begging for you to come home. He probably penned it the minute they got home."
"Well, if he used Pig, then he's drunk and crashing at your flat by now. No use to even consider answering him."
"Figures. Ron wouldn't let him go home. Best mates and all."
"Be nice if he thought of me that way. Instead, I'm the afterthought."
"That's not true and you know it."
I tipped the cup back, draining the second glass of wine. It didn't taste too bad now. "I should, but I'm enjoying my pity party at the moment."
Hermione looked back at me, giving me a dirty look while seeing the anguish on my face. I hurt, but knew that I needed time to work through the problem. It's one of the few things that Ron and I are alike. Sure, she and Ron bicker like two cats in a sack sometimes, but they still felt the intense love and passion for one another. But harsh words from my fiancé, right now, were too much to tolerate, much less accept. I knew that his accusation was baseless but hearing his venom hurt. The vile deprecation from your soul mate makes it worse.
"Has Ron ever said anything like that to you?" I asked pointedly.
Hermione sat there, quiet for a long time. I know Hermione as well as I know Harry. Just watching her swirl the cup in her hands was enough of an answer. I didn't have to see the miniscule shaking to know her answer.
"He did, once. We were fighting, and it was bad. That was the time I stayed upstairs in the small guest room for a week. You remember that? It was about a year ago."
I fiddled with my glass. "I remember that. I remember you stormed out of the house early in the morning, and he came down later in a temper. He got dressed, went to work with George at the shop, came home, argued with Harry for a bit. He insisted Harry go out to look for you, but all he said was that when you wanted, you'd return. That was an even worse fight. Harry stormed up to our room and locked the door. Ron turned on me, making me wonder what was going on. When I told him I talked to you, and that you'd come home when you were ready, he settled down enough to go to bed."
I took a sip of wine to catch a moment. "Ron was begging to see you by the fifth day of my Christmas holiday and you wouldn't open the door for him. I know on the first day, he was being a git. By the third, he was on a rampage. By the fourth, he was begging. Harry said he was horrible at the Academy, and George hexed him once for being rude to a customer. It got so bad we had to leave for the day to avoid his tantrums. I think we picked up Teddy then went to the Burrow. By the time we got home, the two of you were gone and nowhere to be found. Mum sent an Owl the next morning saying that you two were away and working it out. So, what gives? What happened?"
"He yelled at me, and when I came back home, he was still being an arse. Once he quit being a prat, and calmed down instead of yelling at me through a closed door, I was willing to listen. I still didn't open the door until days later. He made me so mad."
"What did he say that set you off?"
"He said that I was pedantic, insolent, and that I was patronizing him."
"He said that? Ron knows what those words mean? Wow."
"He also called me a selfish bitch."
"He did? That tosser."
Hermione nodded.
"Well, we've all called you a know-it-all once or twice. But a selfish bitch?"
"He said that because I told him that while he was in the Auror academy his last two years, I wanted to read Law at Oxford."
"That's really good."
"He was mad because I would be spending the rest of my non-work time studying again. As it stands, we barely see one another for more than a minute a day as it is, with his training and work schedules. It's short-lived, but it'll be worth it."
"Did you explain to him what your plans are? Doesn't he understand that you need that to work towards making real progress?"
"He wouldn't listen, and neither did I. When he called me a selfish bitch before breakfast, I grabbed my bag, and left. I needed time to cool down and think and reflect. So, instead of staying and fighting with him, I went to the Law Library and read. I was there when they opened at half eight until half eleven when they closed."
"No wonder why you were knackered by the time you came back home."
"It's a wonder I didn't see him waiting by the front door. I was exhausted. I almost went in there and crawled into bed with him. It took some effort to walk up that extra flight of stairs."
"Well, you'd missed him about an hour. He stayed up 'til half ten waiting on you. He acted like he didn't give a tit, but he was always around, waiting for an owl or a howler or something to say you were ok."
Hermione took a sip of her wine, grimacing at the bitter taste.
I continued. "After a while, he was getting worried about you. He called your parents, but they weren't home. When you weren't home by dinner, he nearly called the Aurors to look for you."
"Figures."
"Only reason he didn't is that I told'em I talked with you while he was arguing with Harry."
"But you didn't until after I got home at midnight."
"You're right. But when the prat is complaining to me and not Harry, I figured he's cocked it up. But that's obvious. How'd you work it out?"
"You remember it took a few days for us to disappear, right?"
I nodded, remembering how Ron was a beast those few days until they took off that next weekend.
"I was able to avoid him that week, either from leaving for work before he was up, or staying away until he went to bed, or apparating directly into that room upstairs. But I was sick of not dealing with the problem too."
I nodded, waiting for her to continue.
"I had to decide if it was worth getting hurt again. That was the hardest part. Deep down, he's still the horrible little boy who called me a nightmare and I'm the twelve year old know it all. It's hard to forget those past hurts. You and Harry might think that rowing with him is foreplay but sometimes, our arguments hurt terribly."
"But then he said something, and that was how he coaxed me to open the door."
"What'd he say?"
"He said he was wrong. When he said that, I opened the door."
Hermione took another sip of wine, trying to stay sober. "Once I opened the door, he came in, gave me a hug, and we left. We went to an inn, let a room for a couple of nights and we talked. I mean, really talked. I listened for a long time, not interrupting once. He told me things, and I replied and shared also. When he gets angry, he says things to hurt, like he's playing real life wizard's chess. He doesn't stop to consider that words hurt worse sometimes. I'd rather have a broken bone, since those are easily fixed."
Hermione stopped for a second, taking another sip of wine. She glanced at me, watching my expression for a minute. I knew she was watching, but I was lost watching the fire dance across the logs in the fireplace. She knew me well enough to know I was listening. The fireplace wasn't hooked up to the Floo network, so we didn't worry about being interrupted. In addition, our room was charmed, sealed, silenced, and had a powerful notice-me-not charm on it.
"Well, after talking all night, as well as the next day into the next night, we came to our understanding, and worked it out. It was far from easy, and we both said so many hurtful things. I think I even came close to slapping him once. It took courage to say those things, and even more to listen to them. It took a long time to work through those problems, but we're better for it. Only thing that was for certain was that I don't think were normal again for a month or so. But that's who we are. I don't know if how we worked it out will work for you."
I sat there watching the flames dance in the fireplace. It's so beautiful to watch and considerably more interesting since I drained my glass for a third time.
"I can forgive him for calling me a slag, since he's called me worse when he's had me pinned to a wall. I enjoy dirty talk. But insulting me in front of you, Ron, and Malfoy? I'm mortified. It's bad enough that you heard it. Being called a slag is only one step up from what you've endured. No woman should be called that, especially by her lover in anger. It was a slap in the face, full of disgrace. I won't get into if the family, the team, or the press found out."
Hermione sat in silence, contemplating. She told me many a time during her rows with Ron that she wanted to run instead of talking. The morning of her wedding, she promised me and herself that she would stay and fight instead of running off, regardless if she was right. She owed him that much in addition to their wedding vows.
I had to walk away tonight to give me time to lower the emotional pressure. I love him too much to say something truly cruel and vicious in the heat of the moment. She might stay and fight, but this was the exception to the rule. I knew tonight I made the right choice by walking out. I wasn't ready to throw away everything I wanted over him saying something stupid.
"I can't tell you what to do, but I can tell you that you'll work it out, and muddle through it all. People will talk. The only drawback is that the two of you are public figures, and so people will be nosy. That is the unfortunate side effect of all of this mess."
We sat there once again, letting the silence grow. It was quite nice, being inebriated on wine watching the fire trying to muddle through my confusion. Damn Harry for making a mess of things.
I yawned first, feeling the effects of the wine, but she left the couch first. She got up, rolling her neck, and looked down at me where I was curled up. "I'm going to bed. There's two doubles in there, or you can sleep here. Wherever is fine with me. I know you won't keep me company. You say I snore."
I laughed, thinking of how the press would love to get their grubby mits on any pictures of me caught spending the night with my sister in law and best friend. They write the most libelous and salacious things. Ruddy gits. It's not like we've not shared a bed before, on those terrible nights back at school. Too many nightmares were comforted by hugs – hers and mine – to think anything else.
She knelt down in front of the couch and pulled me into a hug. It was so warm and comforting, much like how Mum gives her hugs. English Oak and caramel eyes reflected on one another. "We'll go home when you're ready," Hermione whispered. She then kissed me on the cheek and on top of the head and stood up.
"Thanks."
She left me sitting in front of the fire contemplating what to do next.
