A/N: Hi, HG/SS shippers! To any readers who celebrate the Christmas season, I hope you had a wonderful holiday and weekend!

The following chapter is on the shorter side but still has plenty of emotion and angst for you. Also, Chapter 36 is considerably longer, so it should (hopefully!) make up for this shorter one.

Many thanks to my wonderful beta reader, Brittny.

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter is copyrighted to and belongs to JK Rowling. I own none of her associated characters. New characters belong to me.

Chapter 35: A Changed Friendship

Hermione stepped into Ginny's old bedroom on the first floor, now a snug, inviting-looking den that resembled her and Severus's reading room at home, only the Weasleys' was more confined, though still comfortable. She grew nervous, however, once Ron entered behind her. Suddenly, it felt excessively cramped with little space to maneuver between the two. The den was filled with Muggle artifacts on display—no doubt Mr. Weasley's collection—and books were stuffed into various compartments and oddly assembled furniture.

Hermione chose not to complain about the tight space or suggest another room. She was determined to allow Ron to get whatever he needed to off of his chest. She hoped that, after all the years they had known each other and everything they had been through together, she was still Ron's confidant and close friend.

Lavender had not come to the party—a fact which all the Weasleys seemed adamant not to address—and Hermione could not help but draw her own conclusions. As her eyes scanned Ron's freckled face, she noted his drained and messy appearance. He was usually much more put together, if casual, and his hair was at least combed over and his shirts tucked in. Not tonight though. The more she scrutinized him, the more dreadful he looked.

"So," she stumbled, "how have you been, Ron? Where's Lavender?"

Damn it, Hermione! Just bring it right out there, why don't you? Why couldn't you wait?

Ron's attractive irises expanded and he groused lightly, more to himself than to her. "She couldn't make it."

"Oh?" Hermione tried to be cordial but act more uninterested than she truly was.

"Yeah... 'Mione, um, we've separated..."

Hermione almost dropped her cup of punch. She suspected that perhaps the two had had another rift, but not this! She stared at him with an open mouth, utterly stunned and speechless. He waited for her response though, not seeming to want to elaborate any further.

"Oh, Ron... I - I'm so, so sorry..."

"Everyone seems so surprised. I'm not sure why? We weren't happy. We haven't been for a very long time... I can't seem to do anything right by her, and, well, I guess the feeling's mutual."

His voice was sad and broken, his weary eyes scanning the beaten floorboards of the place he once called home. Hermione wanted to embrace him, console him in the best way she knew how, but she feared how he might react or take her innocent gesture of friendship.

"Ron, I don't know what to say... That's terrible. I'm shocked. I thought you both were working things out."

"We tried, 'Mione. We really did. I think Lavender fell out of love with me a long time ago, and it took her a while to figure out that she didn't want me anymore."

"Oh, Ron... How is Hugo taking this?"

"He's more of a man than I ever expected him to be about it. It's hard for him, of course, but he's so tough. He loves us both, and he's want us to be happy."

"Oh, I'm glad."

If Ron was being truthful, then Hermione thought Hugo's reaction strange. She could not help but think of her wonderful Hailey. If Severus and she were separating, Hermione would never expect her daughter to be anything less than devastated.

Hugo is probably more affected by this than poor Ron realizes, she lamented sadly to herself.

"And you?" she pressed gently. "How do you feel?"

Ron finally looked up at her and she was shaken to find tears in his eyes. The last time she had seen Ron cry was nearly twenty years ago when his brother, Fred, died during the Battle of Hogwarts. She had never witnessed such anguish in Ron's usually friendly face. It was like reliving the awful event all over again.

"I guess it was the same for me, too."

"Really?"

"Yes... How could I be in love with two people at the same time?"

"I'm sorry?"

Hermione quickly placed her cup on an end table and took a step backward. She must have heard him incorrectly.

"'Mione," Ron uttered, a bit miffed by her misunderstanding or, she suspected, her dismissal of his feelings, "I'm in love with you. I always have been. I probably always will be."

Hermione's body froze and she only just managed to swallow. Her throat felt relatively constricted.

"Ron—" she began.

"Please let me finish."

Ron put up a hand to stop her, inching his way towards her ever so slowly; it did not take long given the condensed space they occupied. His right hand brushed her left and Hermione went as rigid as could be as the ginger reached for her hand, taking it into his own. He held it silently, wanting nothing more in that moment than to memorize the feel of her skin, her delicate touch. He loved her perfect hands. It just took him too long to realize what her warm, intoxicating contact meant to him...

"I never stopped loving you, 'Mione," he whispered with an unmistakable passion, and he could hear her breath give way.

Was it their close proximity? Was it the feel of his hand laced within her own? Was it him? He hoped so; he prayed that she was reacting to him. Was she?

"When I was seventeen, and you eighteen... Those were the best and worst years of my life. The worst because I lost my brother, but the best because I had you to help me through the pain. The best because I got to kiss you and hold you and fall in love with you and learn so many things about you I never realized before. The worst because... You left me, and I've never recovered..."

Hermione's brain had come to a screeching halt. What was going on? Was this really happening? Had she not been through enough just a few minutes ago when she learned that her husband might be arrested? What the bloody hell was going on?

"Ron..." she rasped, hardly able to speak. "Please..."

Her helpless friend seemed to take her words as a plea for him rather than against him, and the absolute fervor in his eyes pained and horrified her all at once. What could she say? How could she speak without crushing his feelings?

"'Mione, you mean even more to me now than you did back then. I didn't think it possible to fall more in love with another human being, but you've convinced me that it's possible. Everything about you... You have all of me. That's never changed."

Hermione's lips trembled at the confession pouring out of him. This changed everything. It had to alter everything, no matter what excuses her mind might come up with later. Hermione took a large gulp of air, but her mouth felt suddenly parched.

"Ron... You're one of my best friends in the whole world. I - I love you like you were my own flesh and blood. Please... Don't do this..."

Hermione startled at the abrupt, fierce intensity that lighted up Ron's face. He flinched and drew back from her, his lips molded together as if he were about to be sick. Hermione extended her arms out to him, careful not to seem too forward.

"That's it?" he cried in a thin voice. "That's all you feel for me? A brother?"

Hermione did not answer. She simply could not. The only rational thought rummaging through her mind was to hug him, to apologize for all the unnecessary hurt and damage she had unknowingly caused.

"Ron, I do love you... But not in the way you want. Please... May I?"

"NO!"

Ron's breathing quickened and he began to pace, filled with too much rage to look upon the exquisite woman he had spoken to so gently just seconds ago; the sole person he could ever pour his heart out to. The tears began to fall, but he sniveled and wiped them away as soon as they escaped. He repeated the process several times, but with every excruciating breath his composure faltered. Hermione could hardly bear to watch.

"Ron," she whispered, fighting the urge to break down with him. "Please... Listen to me. You are a wonderful man. You are one of the best people I—"

"STOP!"

"Ron, please, I love you! Don't do this! This will ruin our friendship and any chance we have of remaining in each other's lives. Please!"

"How - How could you not feel anything for me? Anything at all! After everything we've gone through together. You and me..."

Hermione inhaled, but a lump formed in her throat, fighting what she wanted to express. She bit her red lips in an attempt to calm the shakes coursing through her body.

"Ron... I'm married. I have children. They're in the other room, for goodness' sake! Stop this!"

"HOW?"

"Ron—"

"WHY NOT?" he exclaimed, his voice shattering to pieces.

Hermione stood in front of him and pried his hands away from his disheveled hair, which he had clasped because of everything he was suffering due to her. He fought and tried not to meet her kindhearted eyes, the ones he had fallen in love with two decades ago. He willed himself not to look.

"Because we were never meant to be, Ron!" Hermione answered, holding tight to his hands. She kissed one of them in an attempt to illustrate her deepest regard. "We were never meant to be together. We were young and naive and the closest of friends. It was a natural thing at the time but... It was a fancy. It wasn't going to last!"

"Is that what you tell yourself?" he growled, unable to suppress his bitterness. "Did you convince yourself all those years ago that you felt nothing for me? Nothing at all?"

"Ron, you knew I had fallen in love... You chose not to let me go! Merlin, I wish you had! You should have. Why are you still torturing yourself like this?"

"Because I want you, 'Mione! I love you! How can you be so heartless?"

"I - I'm not..."

"Yes, you are!" Ron snarled, his temper reaching its peak. The resentment in his eyes and voice spoke volumes. Hermione reared back, aghast and terribly hurt. "You led me to believe you loved me then! You made me think you actually cared for me!"

"I did care for you, Ron! I still do! How can you say—"

"And all the while, you were in love with him! With that snake! With that lying, two-faced—"

"RON!"

"—UGLY SON OF A BITCH!"

Hermione dropped Ron's hands. She was emotionally scarred, and her eyes stung and began to swell. It was all too much to take: Severus's troubles, Ron's spiteful words about the man she loved, his true feelings for her... She felt like she had stepped into a nightmare with no exit strategy.

"Ron, don't say that about Severus, please—"

"You're a liar! You were in love with him in our sixth year! When you were giving me a load of flack about dating Lavender! You were going after HIM!"

"No I wasn't! That was before I fell in love with him, Ron! And anyway, I was confused! I had no idea what to think or how to feel then! It was the same for you, too, so don't deny it. Can't you understand that? We were teenagers, for crying out loud!"

"Excuses!" he grumbled irritably.

"I never, ever meant to hurt you, Ron! Never! I explained that to you ages ago! I explained it to you then!"

"Yeah, not soon after I lost Fred, too! How could you?"

"Now you're being childish!" Hermione snapped, against her better judgment.

Ron's reaction was more than unpleasant. His face turned red as a beet and his clenched fists quivered at his sides.

"YOU CHOSE SNAPE OVER ME! SNAPE! IT'S ABSURD!"

"Stop it, Ron! You're being cruel!"

"I'm only doing what you did to me! What you've done to me for years!"

"What on earth have I done to you for years?" Hermione threw up her arms, entirely void of self-possession anymore. "YOU'VE DONE THIS TO YOURSELF! Stop blaming me! Stop making me feel guilty for moving on!"

"Yeah, you sure moved on from me rather quick!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Ron—"

"For Snape! For that vile, no-good lying piece of rat piss!"

"RON!"

"You could have chosen better, you know! You could have at least left me for a man worthy of your affections!"

Hermione shot Ron the most deadly glare he had ever received from her. It won out over any previous reprimanded looks the ginger had been on the receiving end of when they were students.

"He is worthy of my affections, Ron! He exceeds them, in fact! Beyond anything you could ever comprehend!"

Ron snorted, his round eyes narrowing. "Yeah, it is pretty unthinkable!"

"TO HELL WITH YOU! You don't know him, Ron! Your jealousy is ridiculous! When will you let up on him?"

"I'M NOT JEALOUS!"

"Oh, yes you are!" Hermione growled in the same sort of manner as her husband. "It's beyond tiresome! I'm a married woman. I love Severus! I will never be yours!"

"You say that now," Ron stated with an acidic air, "but one day, you will look back on this with regret. You will look back on everything you have done to me and you will look at that bastard you so idolize and worship to the point of revulsion—"

"RON!"

"—and you will wish he were me! Snape isn't the so-called hero you think he is! He's no saint! I know it for a fact!"

"I never said he was, Ron! No one's ever painted him that way. What the hell is your problem?"

"HIM! That greasy git who stole you from me! I never thought it possible that you or any woman could fall for someone like that!"

Hermione almost wished Ron would have smacked her, kicked her, or thrown her to the ground instead of saying those defiant, vindictive words that spelled nothing but hatred. She would have broken down and cried if she were not so infuriated.

She stared him down like the ferocious lion of Gryffindor, her pretty eyes turning savage, almost violent, a rare sight that caused Ron to step back from her, fearing that Hermione might draw her wand. When she answered back, her voice cut the air like a knife.

"Oh, really? Well, in that case, you can just sod off!"

The tears on the brim of her long eyelashes threatened to fall. Hermione was so nettled she could have screamed at the top of her lungs, if it would have made any difference. Ron, however, was not through or ready to give in.

"YOU WILL! One day, you'll lament what you've done to me, and I will no longer be around when you come crawling back, begging for my forgiveness. I promise you!"

"Don't hold your breath!" she hissed.

"I won't have to! When the truth comes out about that bat of a husband of yours, you'll see him for what he truly is. For what I always said he was; but you never had the decency to listen to me..."

Hermione had no idea what Ron was getting at, but she hardly cared. She crossed the small gap between them and, without warning, smacked him furiously across the face, her cheeks flushed and wet from the tears that finally fell. Ron ran his hand over his pained cheek, shocked and extremely cross at Hermione's actions. She, however, looked on just as heated as he and did not step down.

"You're a bastard." Her words seemed to strike Ron worse than the actual blow, and his visage grew spiritless and pallid except for the reddened mark on his cheek. "I was wrong about you. So wrong..."

"'Mione—"

"Get away from me. Stay away from me. Don't ever approach me again."

As Hermione whipped around to leave, she felt herself being pulled in the opposite direction. She struggled against Ron's strong hands, now clamped around her arms, but he was too powerful for her, and she had no way of reaching for her wand. What happened next made her want to shriek, cry, and submit all at the same time.

In an act of desperation, Ron drew her into his clutches and forced his lips upon her, kissing the woman he loved with a zeal and mania that shell-shocked her to her very foundation. Hermione pried at his chest, trying to pull back, but Ron heaved the back of her head against him, deepening the kiss against her will.

Ron's lips—a delicacy she had long forgotten—were altogether different from Severus's and brought with them a flooding array of distant memories. His lips were larger and more pronounced, wet, yet palatable, and a bit salty. They moved differently than the way Severus kissed, but Hermione could not comprehend the differences at that moment. Her mind was foggy and paralyzed.

The beautiful witch wrestled to speak, but Ron worked harder, determined to illustrate for Hermione how much she meant to him, what he had to offer her, what those fleshy lips could do... Hermione quickly grew exhausted with trying to fight him off and, as a result, Ron pecked her more gently, his grip on her arms loosening as he intensified their locked lips.

Finally, Ron strained back and withdrew his mouth from hers, opening his eyes to survey her reaction. Hermione seemed petrified, bewildered, shaken, and unable to speak. Not exactly what he had hoped for but she had also responded to the kiss, despite her initial protests.

What was she thinking? Had she enjoyed it? Did she secretly take pleasure in their caress but would not admit it? Ron waited with bated breath.

Hermione suddenly shrunk from his embrace, her mouth hanging limp. Her breathing accelerated and her eyebrows came together. She thrust a hand over her trembling lips, the ones her friend, not her husband, had just touched. She could hardly believe what occurred and felt immediately sickened by everything.

"'Mione," Ron mumbled softly, but she shook her head violently and turned away from him.

Hermione had to get out of this stifling room. She was making her way to the exit when a sight before her made her halt. Her heart plunged into the pit of her stomach. Her legs molded to the floor so quickly, she thought for a fleeting moment that a spell had been cast to immobilize them, but she quickly realized her foolishness.

Severus's dark, formidable presence loomed in the open doorway, his fiercely dangerous eyes staring at his wife and the redheaded, younger man who had just sabotaged everything in his world. The wild intensity with which he regarded them both made her startle, and he was not alone.

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