Chapter 14: LOVE

Procrastinator was one Hermione Granger would never be called. Once she made up her mind on something she'd do it immediately and it was not only applied in her work but all aspects in her life, including relationship. When she decided to give chance to her relationship with Ron, the first time she met him after her decision was made, she asked him if he wanted to have dinner with her if he's free on Saturday. As a date, she emphasised so there'd be no misinterpretation of her intention.

She's glad that she did it, the way his smile spread from ear to ear and spark of light glittered in his eyes was something that she would want to see again. So when he nervously stumbled whether she would mind if he chose the place, she assented without further thought. This was what relationship should be, sharing and compromising. He'd given her space when she needed it, then she's told him when she's ready to try, so it's only fitting if she gave the control to Ron again on how he wanted their first date would be. This was something she's still learning; relinquishing control.

Which brought her to her current situation.

"Ouch!" she wailed. "Gin, it hurt!"

"Sorry, I forget that your hair is as feisty as you are. They really don't want to cooperate, I should buy more Sleekeazy! But we don't have time for it now, you haven't even put your makeup!"

For the past hours, she'd been sitting in front of Ginny's vanity mirror while the younger witch was battling her hair into submission. Ginny had shrieked so loud when Hermione told her yesterday that she'd have a date with her brother on weekend. She had later raided her wardrobe and berated her for not informing her sooner after she declared that apparently she didn't have proper dress, ending up with Ginny barging her door early this morning and dragging her through several Muggle dress shops (Two years watching shows on telly, Ginny considered Muggle had better taste).

"Don't you think it's too much, Gin? This is Ron, we might only grab sandwich or maybe fish and chips," Hermione said, winced when her friend pulled her hair too hard.

Ginny picked a pin from the table and set it on her hair to hold the twist in place. "I know my brother and you can trust me that he'll try his hardest to impress you tonight so you better be prepared."

Hermione sighed. "It just doesn't look like me, dressing up like this," she muttered. Even last time when she'd attended Ministry Gala, she only dressed modestly. Yes, she'd cleaned up a bit compare to her everyday look, but not as much as the other guests. Dressing up took a lot of effort and she didn't really have time and was just too tired to spare more energy to do it.

"Oh please, you never heard how he moaned over your appearance on Triwizard Yule Ball." She put her hands on Hermione shoulders and leaned down so their heads were on the same level, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "For one, seeing you like this will make him happy," Ginny said. "And he's my brother so there's a huge possibility that he'll muck up somewhere, but at least let's make sure that it starts in happy note."

If not for a brief twitch on the corner of her lip, Hermione would fall to her sweet words and let the red haired girl have full reign on her. How everything on the table looked new was a death giveaway. Lately Ginny had developed a new habit to go into shopping frenzy when she's very upset.

"Why I feel like I'm being a medium for you to vent your frustration?" she griped. "How long it's been? Two weeks?"

Ginny bolted up and her face changed drastically. "20 days! And no letter! Well, to be fair, he did say that he couldn't send any, but still ...," she trailed off, pouting.

Hermione tapped the hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, he's fine. We'll hear from Kingsley if something happen to him," she assured her.

Few days ago Harry had been sent away for an assignment to an undisclosed place. Although this was not the first time nor strange with his job as Auror, but it's the longest.

"It's not that," she denied. "I'll turn grey before 30 if I worry every time he's on assignment. It's just that he left just before his birthday and now he missed my birthday too! I'm aware it's for work and I'll readily admit that I might choose my match over him someday, but this was supposed to be our first celebration as couple." She huffed. "You don't need to tell me, I know I'm being a selfish brat here."

Hermione chuckled at her last statement. She tightened her grip on her hand. "Nothing's wrong with it, Gin. You're just acting like a normal girl on a newly relationship."

Ginny squeezed her shoulder back, smiling. "And you're heading into one. Now I'm going to get your dress from your room so you can put some makeup on that pretty face of yours. My brother may come at any moment."

Despite the reason they relocated to Ginny room was because she didn't have adequate makeup equipments ("You don't even own proper size mirror, Hermione!"), Hermione only applied light makeup on her face. For her everyday appearance she used having no time as an excuse as to not putting makeup, but in truth she didn't really care about cosmetics. Not that she had many occasions where she had to play dress up.

Makeup done, she went to the bathroom to change. She reckoned that she should be grateful that Ginny hadn't gone overboard by picking some extravagant gown for her. It was a nice pale pink knee-length sundress, simple enough that she wouldn't attract too much attention if Ron did take her for sandwich, but still sensible and exuded elegance to wear in some three courses dining establishment. As far as she knew, wizarding community in Britain didn't have some kind of upper scale restaurant where they had to dress up to the nine (most of 'rich' family would preferred to host fancy dinner at their own house). And assuming that Ron would take her to a 3-star Michelin restaurant was too far-fetched if only for how clueless he'd be in arranging reservation or dealing with Muggle currency, so it's safe to say that her dress would do.

"Oh my, look how fetching this beautiful lady is," Ginny chirped, following a teasing wolf whistle.

"Oh, shut up," Hermione chided, affecting a faux offend face. She grabbed her keys from the table, but seeing its string holder, she had better idea.

"You sure you want to wear it?" Ginny queried as Hermione stumbled to tie the two ends on her wrist.

At her friend puzzle look, Ginny elaborated, "Do you know that there old custom among wizard to give little trinket like jewellery to a witch he court to signify his intention? If the witch wears it, it indicates that she accepts his suit."

Hermione stopped what she's doing. "You mean like engaged?"

"No, just that you're in exclusive relationship. To put it simply, staking a claim of the witch – yeah I know, very archaic," she grimaced. "Then again, it's not real jewellery so I don't think it counts. But maybe, I said maybe, don't you think that he plans to switch it with the real one someday?"

"So you're saying this is Ron trying on subtlety?"

Ginny chortled. "Yeah, I know, very surprising." But she sobered quickly. "Really Hermione, you have to consider this might be his way to tell you that he takes this seriously. Both of you are important to me, I don't want anybody to get hurt."

"I'm going to dinner date with him and in case you forget, I was the one who ask." She made the final knot on her bracelet, inspecting that it was tied tightly. She turned to face her flatmate, looking straight to her eyes. "You know me Gin, I don't have time for casual dating. This is not something I take lightly."

"If you're sure ..."

"I want to be happy too, Ginny," she affirmed.

Ginny nodded thoughtfully. A knock was heard from the front door.

"It must be my brother. Now off you go, girl," she said while making shushing gesture.

Hermione opened the door and there he was, looking dapper in a dress robes which decidedly more Victorian than Mediaeval. If one of her neighbour saw him, they might think they're going to a Regency-theme party. For a minute he only stood there, staring at her with mouth slightly open in awe. She cleared her throat, being stared like that started to make her uncomfortable.

"You look pretty," he sputtered timidly, breaking from his stupor. "This is for you." He hurriedly handed a bouquet of red roses to her. His smile widen when he noticed the bracelet on her wrist as she accepted the bouquet.

She felt her cheek heating and she took it from his hand, made a motion to inhale its scent just to hide her face. "Thank you. I'll put it inside then we can go."

She turned around heading to the kitchen and her eyes landed on Ginny, leaning leisurely against the doorframe complete with mischievous grin adorning her face. She must have witness the proceeding because her face clearly articulated an 'I told you so' expression.

Didn't want to give Ginny another opportunity to tease her, Hermione swiftly filled the vase with water and set the flowers in it. Snatching her travelling coat on her way, she hastened back to the front door.

"Take her home before nine!" Ginny shouted cheerfully as Hermione hurriedly pushed Ron through the door. But right before the door was closed, Ron had his chance to give her mocking two fingers salute.

"Where are we going?" Hermione queried when they arrived at her usual Apparition spot.

Ron cleared her throat, visibly nervous. "Will you let me?" He offered his arm in his attempted bravado of gentlemanly act.

Hermione giggled, she looped her hand on the curve of his elbow happily. "Of course."

Regardless of a little stumble in his Side-Along Apparition, she really ought to give him applause for his valiant effort in chivalry, like how he held the door for her or pulled her chair when they arrived on their table. This wasn't his usual self but it's really sweet to see him try.

The restaurant choice was also good, a new establishment in Diagon Alley called 'The Candlelight'. Even though it was only opened for about three months, it already garnered excellent rapport for their service. Owned by a Pure-blood heiress who married a Squip chef, they came up with a concept of wizarding restaurant with Muggle feel, all meals and services were done in Muggle way. It was well known that many wizardkind were not familiar with Muggle world which made them don't venture much to the other side, so naturally they found this as an amusing new experience.

"I heard it's hard to get a table here. How you manage to get last minute reservation?" she started. Once they were seated, she could feel a certain magic enveloping their table.

Ron grinned proudly. "I may have to use the war hero card." Sensing that it didn't satisfy her curiosity, he expound, "I agree to speak about this place to help them promote it. Well, being Harry Potter's best friend surely brings some perks. Don't worry, our dinner will not be mentioned, it'll remain private. In fact, that's what they want to promote.

"Most Pure-blood snobs will not want to be seen entering this place and labelled as embracing Muggle culture which bring to this privacy stuff. The room we're landed earlier was for private arrival and this table is also equipped with privacy enchantment so other guests will not notice us. When we don't make front page in tomorrow's paper, it will be a proof for their exceptional service."

"Wow," she breathed in appreciation, losing word for a moment so instead she said, "Thank you for arranging this."

Ron rubbed his neck nervously, the tip of his ears pinked. "Actually I want to take you to Muggle restaurant, but Harry was away and I can't find any book with proper information so this is the best I can come up."

Again, Hermione was taken aback with his confession and could only uttered, "You're looking in the book?"

"Well, obviously I can't ask George or Percy on how to arrange dinner with a witch, right." With no response from Hermione, Ron started to fidget. "Oh bugger, I mess this up right? I knew it, following that book will make me look stupid."

This time, his rambling really turned Hermione speechless. Did he's just saying that he studied a book for this date? Ronald Weasley who never would touch a book for his schoolwork without her nagging, looking for a book and read it to prepare a date with her? Was it the reason for the flower, door, and chair? An image of Ron reading '101 How to Impress Your Witch' made her chest suddenly feel full. It was very sweet of him.

"Err, Hermione? Can we start over this date? Please?"

Hermione was snapped from her reverie, surprised with the question. Did her silence made him think she doesn't like his gesture? But before she could contradict his assumption, the waiter came with the menu.

Ron let her to place the order first. With how the butterfly in her stomach decided to have a party, she didn't think she'd care about what she ate so she only ordered common salad and pasta.

"Red wine," Ron replied on the question about the beverage. "And chocolate mousse for her, please." Hermione tilted her head quizzically which he noticed. "It's your favourite, right? I will not let you only eat salad tonight, Hermione."

"I also order pasta," she retorted in mock annoyance. Her check started to hurt from restraining her grin.

When their plates arrived, their conversation had been going on swimmingly. True to his word, Ron had started over their date by being his usual self, claiming he's not comfortable with the whole 'act', which was welcomed by Hermione. Although the gentleman-Ron was very charming but honestly she preferred the easy going-Ron. She was reminded that this was why she was attracted to him long ago; his word was honest with no pretentiousness so chatting with him would always relaxing and easy, no necessity to read between the line. Most importantly, he never failed to make her laugh.

She wiped the tear that start leaking while trying to stifle her laugh at his story.

"I swear it was fine before and ... boom. We don't know how it can happen." He was recounting the latest incident on one of George newest trial product.

Hermione reached for her glass as her giggle turned into cough, sipping her wine. "Maybe the charm was unstable from the beginning. You know, sometimes it can happen when the casting was slightly off. There's formula to reduce the effect, making two or several variables balancing each other so a slight mistake will be automatically negated."

Ron stared blankly at her suggestion, looking lost. He blinked twice and shrugged. "Maybe. George is the one who deal with it, I'm just his guinea pig."

She was ready to explain her opinion in detail but decided against it, seeing that Ron was clearly not interested in continuing this topic. She'd tell George directly next time she met him then.

Chewing on a piece of beef steak on his fork, made sure to shallow it before he spoke, Ron changed the topic. "Lee dropped by yesterday, he left four tickets for next week match. Puddlemere vs Tornado. Are you interested to go?"

"I don't know, Ron," she tried to decline gently. Dinner was one thing, but she still thought Quidditch was just wasting time.

"Oh, come on. This season is very exciting, Hermione. Competition is tight, points between teams are very close in the last standing. And dare I say that Canon will not end at the bottom this year."

He then narrated the latest game he'd watched in detail and it's her turn to be lost. Back then at school she'd used to read Quidditch news, she'd been surrounded by Quidditch players after all. It'd been necessary so she wouldn't be isolated in their conversation. But after the war, she had more important things to keep her busy so even with a professional Quidditch player as flatmate, she's almost completely blind about what's happening in the league.

"I'm sorry, Ron," she interrupted, determined to refuse his invitation and also for the sake of saying something instead of nodding her head vacantly throughout the conversation. "It looks like next week will be busy. There's no way I can bring my work to the match, right?" she added to levitate the mood, noticing the dishearten look forming in his eyes. "How's Lee by the way?"

"He said he'll go to Wales sometimes around this week to record an interview," he replied, a lopsided smile forming on his mouth. "One more year Hermione, just one more year! Oh, I really can't wait. Judging from how they play in the league, England may have a shot this time. Although from what I've read, they said that Bulgaria finally found some good Chasers and with Krum still on the team, everyone put their bet on them to win the Cup. Then again, Egypt was playing very well in the qualification so they may come out as the dark horse. But still, I'm quite optimistic with our team. I only pray that we'll get better draw to ensure it."

It looked like he would continue his prediction on the next World Cup, but he finally noted the minimal response he got from his date in how she played with her pasta and her stiff smile.

"Er, you're exchanging letter with Krum, right?" As soon as the last word left his mouth, he regretted it instantly. Talking about the man your dating partner used to date was really not a good alternative topic of conversation.

Hermione went rigid for a moment. She reckoned that her answer could potentially end this date in a nasty way. She's well aware how jealous Ron could be and a jealous Ron was never a good news so she reached her wine glass and sipped it again, buying some time to arrange a 'safe' response.

"Not anymore," she mumbled, eyes following her fork rolling her pasta. "I was on the run, so it's dangerous to write and after the war I was rather busy with other thing so ... er, it was getting harder to pick the quill to write."

She glanced up to check his reaction, he was also laying his eyes to his plate.

"Oh." Only a single syllable to show that he heard her answer. Nobody said a single word or picking their meal for the next five minutes.

"How's your work? Harry told me you're working on something about werewolf," he started cautiously.

Hermione tried to hide her sigh of relief at the question, this was safe ground for them. "Yes. Kingsley's reconsidering to reopen the Werewolf Support Service and he asked me to make a preliminary assessment."

"It's good, right? If he's still alive, Lupin would be very happy to hear it."

"Would he? It was closed down the first time because no werewolf ever used it," she reasoned sedately.

"You're Hermione Granger, the Brightest Witch of Her Age," Ron stated good naturedly, not realising that she flinched when he mentioned the moniker. "You always have the right answer Hermione, so don't worry, you'll do well. Ginny told me that you've succeeded in your House-Elf Legislation."

"I'm just revising the Guideline, Ron," she corrected him.

Ron waved his hand flippantly. "It's same, right. The point is you've accomplished something. And you'll always have our support."

Hermione almost lectured him with an explanation on the difference between Legislation and Guideline or how the problem with werewolf couldn't be compared with House-Elf, but she stopped herself at the last second, it would only lead to unnecessary argument. So instead she only uttered a simple thank you.

They reached the end of conversation again and suddenly she wasn't feeling hungry anymore. Since he finished with his meal and thought the same for Hermione, Ron called their waiter for the dessert.

"Still no news from Harry?" he tried again.

"No. But it was expected from his job, right?"

He scoffed dryly. "Yeah. The life of an Auror. You know, when I –," He opened his mouth, maybe to recount his day as one, but closed it again and chose to shove his pudding into it. Their screaming match last year was still fresh in their mind.

Both were focusing on their dessert, or in Hermione's case, spooned her mousse as little as possible and consumed it slowly to fill the time.

"I still can't believe that Ginny refused the Seeker position," Ron started conversationally.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Well, that what she choose."

"Yeah, right."

Their talk was stalled again. This was where Harry would usually chime in but he's not here so again, it had to end abruptly.

The next conversation went in similar fashion, three or four sentences were exchanged before it came to a halt, followed by minutes of silence. The break between was edgy but gradually the atmosphere around them started to feel oppressive.

Ron was the first to crack. He called for their bill, reasoning Ginny's warning about bringing her home before nine. She nodded in agreement even though she knew that it wasn't even eight yet. Time had somehow gone slower the longer they were there and getting fresh air sounded like a good idea.

They left from the same room where they arrived, but this time they Disapparated on their own. It wasn't discussed but it was understood, communicated with a glance because both didn't utter a single word after leaving their table. But even without signal when they leave, not even a brisk nod, they materialised almost at the same time.

Ron gave her a brief assuring smile, stepping aside to let her go first, and suddenly Hermione could feel a lump in her throat. This night had started very well, she couldn't let it end like this.

"Want to take a walk for a bit?" she asked hesitantly, making sure that her voice was calm.

The delight in his eyes was very obvious when he said, "Sure. Lead the way."

She went to the opposite direction from her flat, strolling on the pavement heading to the Manor Park. Of course it was closed, but it's easy to Apparate inside after making sure that nobody's around.

Along the way, they walked in comfortable silence. Maybe it was the fresh air or the soothing summer breeze, all tension was dissipated. Hermione didn't have any specific destination in mind but she stopped near the fountain and sat on one of the bench, Ron followed suit. And that's what they did, savouring the warm summer night, watching the cascade of moonlight reflection dancing on the water surface.

"Did I tell you that you look pretty tonight?" he said tepidly, studying her appearance.

Her lip twitched upward slightly. "You did. Right in the front door, remember?"

He chortled quietly. "You really look pretty, Hermione. The dress looks good on you," he averred resolutely.

"Of course! It should be. I spent the whole morning to find this dress after all," she quipped lightly.

"Since when you like dress shopping?"

"Since never. Your sister dragged me around through I-lost-count-how-many shops. Harry's absence has really started to peeve her."

"Yeah, I can see that."

Few of her strands had successfully escaped from its confinement, just a gentle breeze was enough to let it loose all over her face. But before she managed to lift her hand to remove it from her eyes, Ron was faster. Tenderly he tucked her curls behind her ear, his finger linger there. His eyes flicked to her lips for a second then looking straight to hers with a soft longing stare.

"Can I kiss you?"

Her breath hitched, it's not more than a whisper yet she could hear it clearly. She's rooted in place, couldn't avert her eyes from his. This was Ron, the boy she had crush on for years. The boy who grew into a man before her eyes but still retained many traits that attracted her younger self. As if she was being hypnotised, her head move on its own accord.

It was soft and gentle, unlike their first where she literally smacked her lips into his. Their lips touched, their first proper kiss without the adrenaline rushing in their veins. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek as he tilted his head, his thumb caressing her jaw.

But there's something missing. Her heart beat didn't pick up like what they described in some romance novel she'd read, no tingling feeling where his skin touched hers. Her breath remained steady and she could feel that his too. She opened her eyes as he pulled back, their faces were only inch apart.

He rested his forehead on hers, exhaled a lungful of air. "This is not working, right?"

"Ron ..."

He stroked her cheek one last time before letting go. "Without death looming over our head, it surely feels odd." He reclined on the bench despondently. "I always picture about us, Hermione. It's always you, never other girl. Everyone expects – they know – that we will end up together."

Then it dawned on her, all the reasons that made her apprehensive. Scenes of past memories flashed through her mind; all their conversations, their interactions, their fights. How he made her laugh, how he made her cry, all they'd been through together. She felt the thread bracelet grazing her wrist and she finally understood.

"I love you Ron, I will always love you," she whispered solemnly. "But I may not what you need."

He didn't look at her. "Should it be me who decide what I need and what I don't?"

"Yes, you are. But can you do that?" she implored, her tone was serene. She turned to face him, but he kept his focus to the fountain.

"Your kind heart always attracts me to you, your loyalty to everything you hold dear," she began. "I know you still stay at the Burrow for your mother because she needs her child to fuss. You're helping at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes for George because he needs brother to lean on. And don't lie to me, you joined Auror partly for Harry because he needed someone on his side and also your guilt for leaving him during Horcrux hunt. Just like what you're doing to me now.

"Be honest Ron, deep down you still feel guilty for what you did back then at the forest and for not going with me to Australia, right? Tell me if I'm wrong, but aside from George, you chose to help running the joke shop not only because you thought that Harry will be fine on his own now, but also so you can accommodate me. With you at the shop, you can be the constant presence who I can come anytime I want."

"I do love you, Hermione," he interrupted her. His tone was firm with no trace of doubt.

"So do I," she interjected. "But this is not how it goes. I have my own guilt to carry Ron, and if we keep it this way we'll only destroy each other. I don't need your penance, Ron. Yes, it hurt me so much when you abandon me, I felt like I wasn't important enough to deserve your loyalty. But it's in the past, I forgive you. You already did a lot to make up for it, so let just move on."

He finally turned to face her, his expression was hopeful. "And when I do, do you think we can make it work?"

"I honestly don't know, Ron. A lot of things had happened between now and then, it's been what, three years?" she admitted apologetically. "It's not only about other people Ron, it's also about you. You said that you want to find your own path, right? So do that. Do it for yourself and I'll do it too. And in the meantime, if you meet someone better than me, someone that can make you happy, please don't make me as an obstacle to be with her."

"What if it's you?" He didn't give up.

She shook her head vehemently. "No, Ron. I can't ask you to wait for me fixing my own baggage nor dragging you into it. More so I will always run from one goal to another, chasing one challenge and other. I will not change it to anybody because that's who I am."

"Yes, I know that." He sighed. "That's what fascinates me about you and I will never think to change that. It's what make you you. I always admire how you pursue what you want confidently no matter what people say. It's something that I think I can't ever do."

"Give yourself a chance, Ron." She reached his hand and squeezed it gently. "I will never be able to forgive myself for stringing you along and prevent you from finding your happiness."

He nodded pensively, resigned. Both fell into their own contemplation for a while.

"Arrington is a nice bloke," he blurted unexpectedly.

"Wha–." Hermione whipped her head to him at his abrupt comment. "Arrington?"

"I've seen how you interact with him, Hermione. He clearly can hold conversation with you. That's one of our problems, right? Most of the time I can't follow what you're talking about," he expounded demurely. "And I saw how he looked at you, it seems he also like you."

Hermione gaped, not able to hide how she was flummoxed by that statement. Was his jealousy rearing again? She was left speechless for seconds before she could respond. "Do you think I reject you because I have feeling for Martin?"

He sulked in defeat. "It's okay, I understand."

She was flabbergasted, and slightly affronted. "How many time I have to tell you we're only working, Ron. We're not indulging in some sordid affair behind your back. You know that Nigel is always with us, right?"

Her voice was rising, making Ron backpedal. "I know, I'm sorry," he hurriedly apologised. Scratching his head in distress, he said, "I did it again, right? I get it, this is what I need to work on as well."

Definitely it's his insecurity at play.

"Ron, you really have to start to believe in yourself, okay. Just because some can do thing you can't, doesn't mean it will make you any less. You have many talents yourself, take this bracelet for example. Even I have no clue how to do this kind of charm. And nobody ever beat you in chess," she chastised him.

"Jonas always beat me and once you find the correct book you'll able to do that charm," he mumbled.

"That's not my point," she snapped. "You don't need validation from other people to define you, Ron. You said you don't want to be in Harry's or my shadow, right? I know you can do it, you should know you can do it."

"Yes Ma'am," he spluttered, thoroughly reprimanded.

She couldn't tell when she moved, but she was standing with stern expression and hands on her hips while Ron sat with slouched back, eyes lowered on his laps. Both stilled as they realised how their current position looked like. Almost at the same time, they blurted a hearty guffaw.

"I will always need you, Hermione," he said as his laugh subsided. "I won't know what I suppose to do without you nagging me."

Hermione waggled her finger on his direction. "No, you don't. I'm not your mother, Ronald!" she primly admonished him. And their laugh burst out again before gradually dissolved on its own.

"So, this is it then," said Ron, sober.

Hermione only nodded as an answer.

"Thank you for wearing it." He gestured to the bracelet on her left wrist.

"Do you want it back?" she asked tentatively.

He shook his head. "It's a gift for you, Hermione."

His smile was genuine, so she returned with the same sincerity. "Thank you. And thank you for the date as well."

He nodded considerately then stood up. "Come on, I need to take you home before Ginny sends a search party," he said light-heartedly.

Their walk back to her flat was notably better than when they're heading to the park even though once again they did it in silence. It's like something had been lifted from her shoulder, made her step lighter. However, another heavy feeling still weighing in her chest, but she could conceal it from surfacing on her face for now.

When Hermione entered her flat, she found Ginny lugging on the sofa watching telly, almost certainly waiting for her to hear about how her dinner date went. Her expression must have betrayed her because with just one glance, Ginny muted the telly and got up, only to return with their ice cream container.

She took a seat beside her, accepting the proffered spoon with a grateful nod. Neither spoke any word through the three first spoons, content with staring at voiceless show on telly. She reached for her fourth spoon, but then withdrew it.

"I can't lose him, Gin," she murmured softly, her hands fiddled with her spoon. "I'm not sure I can handle it if I have to lose any of you."

Ginny grasped her hand, rubbing her palm with her thumb in soothing manner.

Hermione turned her face, bringing her gaze into her flatmate. "He took me to The Candlelight, you know, negotiated his way to get the last minute reservation." Averting her stare, her eyes landed onto the roses on the kitchen table, a dreamy smile adorning her face. "Those flowers were only the beginning, he continued to behave like a dashing gentleman during the date. It should be a perfect date, a dream come true."

She leaned her back, chuckling dejectedly. "We know each other for over a decade, yet it only took less than half an hour for our conversation to die down. It's kind of ironic, we know each other too well, what can push our button, and we end up tip-toeing around like we're walking in a landmine for the rest of the night, worried that we'd deliberately upset the other.

"I used to think I enjoy arguing with him. We'd argue over silly thing, we'd fight then we'd make up. I'd be angry and so was he, then he'd approach me with that sheepish grin and I'd forgive him and he'd make me laugh again. Back then it was so simple, Gin. But you see, as we grow older, how it can escalate badly. Yes, we both can make an effort to work it out, to compromise, but how long until I'm fed up with his insecurity or he can no longer tolerate my ego.

"I'm scare, Gin. I'm scare that we'll reach that point where we'll snap and we'll hurt each other so bad that we can't salvage our relationship, that we can't even become friend anymore. I can risk it to happen, Gin. Even though my parents are still alive, but I'm as good as orphan. I don't even know where's Crookshanks right now. You, Harry, and Ron are all I have and I can't lose any of you. I can't risk that."

"Oh, Hermione ..." Ginny scooted closer, setting her arm around her shoulder.

"I can see him trying. Gin," Hermione continued. "But I have my insecurity too. Will he leave again when things get hard like he did in the forest or like he did with his Auror job? Or does he do it because he genuinely loves me or it's his guilt for leaving me back then? I can't shake it off from my mind yet, it keeps disturbing me like a thorn. He deserves better than that, Gin.

"He's a good man, our Ron. He's loyal, very perceptive, and always bring laugh to people around him. He always giving, never taking." She sighed deeply. "He needs someone to take care of him, someone to support him, to be his home. And I can't be her. I'm selfish Gin, I know that I won't sacrifice my career for him and he deserves better than being supporting character his whole life. No, I can't destroy him like that. I'll lose him completely that way."

The tears that threaten to spill awhile ago stared leaking when she blinked. Once a drop had escaped, the dam broke and others followed, cascading down her cheeks. Ginny instantly pulled her, enveloped her into her embrace as she buried her face into her neck, crying her heart out.

She knew this is the right thing to do, she completely understood. Then again, years harbouring the feeling and then when it's right in her grasp for her to seized it, she must let it go. It's not just loss, it's more than hurt, but it's what it was, it must be done.

Ginny held her tightly, making hushing noise to mollify her. She didn't let go until her sob reduced into a quite hiccup. And only then, after she removed herself – tearstained and blotchy cheeks – did Ginny get up to go to their kitchen. Ten minutes later, she came back with a cup of tea, placing it on the brunette's hand. She took a sip and immediately she felt much calmer.

"Remember my first two years in Hogwarts? I could barely utter a single word in front of Harry. You said that I projecting my fantasy too much on him that I failed to see him as real person. Back then you told me to loosen up a bit and broaden my perspective so I could see the real him, not just the idea of Harry Potter. And it worked.

"On the contrary, you and Ron were friend first, learning about each other from scratch. But you're always involved in one extreme adventure to another that in some way might cloud your judgement so when you removed the adrenalin, everything looks completely different."

"You notice?"

She nodded. "I'm worried to be honest. Your relationship was too intense, you're very high strung while he's very laid back. In a way, you two may able to balance each other," she pondered wishfully. "Both of you are important for me and I want you two to be happy. What a perfect way it would be if you find it in each other."

She took her cup, putting it on the table, then reached out and held onto Hermione's hand, giving hers a gentle squeeze. "I'll return your advice, Hermione. To loosen up a bit and broaden your perspective does sound like a good idea."

Hermione's eyes shifted to her bracelet. She freed her hand from Ginny's grip and lifted it, showing it to her friend. "You know Gin, in Muggle world we call this kind of bracelet like this as friendship bracelet, handmade to be given to a friend. How fitting is it, right?"

She inhaled deeply. Her voice was no longer shaky when she spoke. "If this will be the biggest mistake in my life, then let it be. I'm ready with the consequences, including watching him finding someone else and being happy with her. Just promise me Gin, if that day comes and I need a shoulder to cry on, lamenting my stupidity of letting him go, promise me that you'll be there for me. Please remind me of my decision today, that I should never regret this."

Once more Ginny wrapped her arm around her shoulder, holding her close.

"I'll be there, Hermione. And I promise you'll be fine."


A/N:

Just to be clear, Manor Park that's mentioned in this chapter (and in chapter 3 if you remember) has nothing to do with Malfoy manor. It's a real park in Sutton, London which is where Hermione's flat (in this story) located.

This chapter is my love letter to Ronmione, why I think their relationship will not work. I don't dislike Hermione, but I think Ron deserves better. Don't get me wrong, both have their own flaws but I don't think they're good for each other. And mainly because I don't like to see Ron to be always in anyone's shadow (I'm not undermining entrepreneur, but between "The Chosen One's best friend", "The Youngest Minister of Magic's husband", and "The Co-Owner of Joke Shop", which will make better headline in Daily Prophet?). Ron deserves better.

Honestly when I read book 6, I imagined both Ron and Hermione would meet someone new. Maybe because at that time I already graduated from high school and I knew how relationship dwindle in university (and further after joining workforce).