Chapter Nine
George and I looked at each other. I'm sure the looks on our face were (pardon the pun) identical; that wide-eyed, slack-mouthed oh, shit expression. I don't know who I was more scared for: me, for doing the dirty and betraying my brother, or George, who knew about it and didn't tell.
"You knew."
It came out cracked. Barely a whisper, hoarse from all the shouting. I was very nearly almost relieved that Ron was turning his attention away from me, but as soon as I thought it, I pushed the feeling away. Was I really that much of a shit that I would betray my brother and let my twin take some of the blame?
"Ron, I…" George began to say something, but trailed off after seeing the look on Ron's face. I decided to man up and divert the attention off George.
"Look, this isn't George's fault, alright? I did it-"
"I know you did."
"- And I feel terrible about it-"
"I highly doubt that."
"- and I don't know what else to say, Ron."
"I don't know what I want you to say, either. Nothing you can say can make this better. But that doesn't excuse how George knew, and failed to tell me. I always knew there was something… like you were extended from the family. Like you two weren't the same as the rest of us. You two are like one person, you know each other so well, you're bonded in the way the rest of us aren't. And I've always wanted to be a part of that. I'm Ron Weasley, shit at Quidditch, second best to everyone, I'm a prefect but it doesn't matter because it's happened in our family so many times before. And I thought I fit better with you two, because it seemed like you weren't a perfect fit to the rest of them either. And then I find that not only did my brother shag my girlfriend, but that both of you kept it from me."
The guilt washes over me in waves. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have hurt my brother this way? I do care for Hermione, I love her, I want her so badly my insides hurt sometimes, but I shouldn't've acted on it. Even if I had to live the rest of my life in pain, knowing the girl I love is with my brother, wouldn't that be worth it to see him happy?
And then I realise: he thinks that it was only once.
Ron said not only did my brother shag my girlfriend. Singular. It's hard enough to feel this, to be caught up in this now, as it is, with only one suspected shag I'm being accused of. How will he react when he finds out it's not one, but two? Two ecstatic shags, multiple meet-ups, touching Hermione and kissing her in ways he's only dreamed about? I don't know whether I should tell him or not, battling with the guilt that would haunt me if I didn't, and the oncoming tirade he'd let loose when he knows the whole story. Before I can open my mouth to say something, anything, the dormitory door opens, and Hermione walks in.
"Ron," she said softly. "I'm sorry."
He looks away from her and shakes his head, trying to clear his eyes of tears. It's a Weasley trait we must've all inherited. I do it too, sometimes. Like one night when I'd come back from meeting up with Hermione in a classroom. We'd kissed for hours, touched each other in the most sacred of places, and when we got back to the common room, we'd parted. I went up to my dorm, put on my pyjamas, led in bed, and thought about how the next day I'd have to sit with her at breakfast and pretend that she was just my little brother's girlfriend, not the girl that I was fast falling in love with.
Ron said nothing. Maybe her betrayal was worse than mine. But then again, dragon's blood is thicker than water, right?
"I loved you."
It's Hermione's turn to well up. "I know you do."
"So you don't care about my feelings? We break up, and I try to talk you round, to win you back, and I find you with my brother."
I'm starting to feel like George and I are intruding on a private moment. It's something that should be kept between the two of them, and for this small period of time, it's like me and my twin aren't in the room. The two of them certainly don't notice us.
"Ron, I-"
"You can't deny it, Hermione. I know what I saw."
"I know, and I'm not going to deny it. I'm sorry that I've hurt you. I should never have done it," I'm not going to lie, that stung. But maybe it's one of those things that you say in an attempt to make it better. A white lie that just comes out.
Ron chokes on his words. "I don't… I want to… How did this come about?"
I know what he wants to hear. That it's a one off. That she came running in to the library upset with what had happened, that she'd found me and I'd comforted her. And somehow, our hug turned into a kiss, a kiss into something more. Well, it's what I'd want to hear if I were in his position. Although what I'd be doing in a library through my own choice was something else on its own entirely.
"I…" Hermione hesitates. "I offered Fred tutoring sessions for his NEWTs."
Ron snorts. "And he willingly accepted, did he? Never one that wants to learn."
"And it just ended up happening." I say, trying to cover up the worst. Not for me, but for Ron's sake.
"Well, it wasn't exactly like that."
Trust Hermione to go down the path of complete-and-utter honesty.
"It was almost… implied, that stuff was going to happen."
I try to lighten the atmosphere in a stupid, truthful way. "Although we did study!"
George looks at me and shakes his head. "Not now with the comedy, mate."
Ron looks completely lost. I can see the cogs going in his head, trying to figure this out, trying to piece this together.
"So… you helped him study, and kissed a few times? What?"
Hermione's hands twist in front her stomach with nerves. "Um, a bit more than that."
"So that wasn't the first time? What I walked in on, you've done it before?" he doesn't even have the energy to shout at us anymore. I suppose I should be thankful, but the effect this revelation has on him hurts. No matter how many times I said I hated him, or thought that me and Hermione was a form of getting my own back, he was my brother. It was hard for me to envision how much he hated me right now, but I could guarantee the hatred I felt for myself was pretty close to Ron's level.
"Yes."
"Where?"
Merlin, we had to say we'd done it in the common room? After everyone had gone to sleep, and we ended up on the rug in front of the fireplace, and it was just down to the embers, and that that moment would've been so romantic, so perfect, if it weren't for the fact that we weren't together as a couple? In front of the sofa she, Ron and Harry share after classes? The sofa the Ron probably saw in his mind as "their sofa", "their place"?
I stepped up to the mark. "The common room."
"What, and it was just fun was it? Just a doss about, it didn't mean anything?"
I took a deep breath. Merlin's hairy, saggy left-
"No, Ron."
He looked me straight in the eye. "What, then? You care about her? George wasn't messing about that day?"
"Yes. I love her."
"You… love her." He croaked the words out, and then turned to Hermione. "And you?"
The tears spilled over her cheeks again. "I love him, too."
With the noise of prey being ripped apart by a dragon, or the sound of someone's world being wrenched open, Ron let out a strangled sob and dissolved into tears, his face in his hands.
I told you it wouldn't be long to wait! Okay, three months, but you've got to admit, it's a record for me! I reread the story yesterday, and I've noticed how much my writing has improved over the years (I published the first chapter in May 2006, when I was 14) and also the comedy element has thinned over time. I wanted this chapter to make the audience feel for Ron, even if this is (at the beginning) a slight Ron-bashing fic. I wrote this while listening to Adele's Someone Like You on repeat. If you haven't heard of her, or haven't listened to this song, I suggest you do. Not only is she an amazing singer, who is pitch perfect live, she also defies the stereotype that women in music need to be half naked and anorexic, writhing about on stage. James Corden said of her "you can have all the dancers, pyrotechnics and laser shows you want, but if you sound like that, all you need is a piano".
Unfortunately, my wish that 2011 would be better than 2010 has yet to materialise. My great-aunt died in January after a three year battle with cancer. Like her sister, my grandmother (who I mentioned in last chapter's author's note), she passed away peacefully in her sleep.
Thanks to all of you who have this story on alert, or have it favourited, or have me on author alert or favourited (the most grateful of thanks to you who have). I don't know how long until the next chapter is posted, I have an idea of what's going to happen. It's just a case of fleshing it out and fitting it in around my uni work. If only I could write an essay that needs to be in next week as quickly as I wrote this (about 1000 words of this was completed in 40-50 minutes)!
Thanks again for reading, especially if you've hung about since 2006.
Emopygmepuff
xxx
