Author's Note:
Hi all! Thank you for taking the time to review. It really does keep motivated to update quickly.
For those who have made it this far, congratulations! You made it past the angsty part and we are now full on Ron/Hermione the rest of the way. I know there are some questions around Hermione's behavior, but she's human and has to learn and grow from her mistakes.
Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 7
The next morning, after a restless night's sleep, Hermione awoke to the smell of French Toast coming from the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley always brought her food up at half past eight. She was minutes away and her mouth watered.
Half past eight came and went, and Hermione pulled out a book. It was nearly nine, when Hermione curiously pulled herself up, checked how her wounds were healing, and got dressed.
Stepping slowly down the stairs, she thought back to the previous night. She was sure he left the house shortly after. She wondered if that was why Mrs. Weasley hadn't come up this morning. The thought hadn't dawned on her. Would Mrs. Weasley kick her out if she couldn't get along with the family?
She made her way carefully into the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was humming a tune.
"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley."
"Ahh, good morning, dear!" Mrs. Weasley sang back as if nothing was amiss.
"Is...everything alright?" She asked.
"Of course, why wouldn't it be?"
"I wasn't sure after last night, you know...you may have heard my conversation with Ron in the hallway…" She tapered off, nervously searching for any indication of displeasure in Mrs. Weasley's eyes.
"Oh!" Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Of course not. That is between the two of you." She said simply.
"Besides," Mrs. Weasley said, making a plate for Hermione as she sat at the table, "Ron was the one that asked for me to come get you."
Hermione stopped short. "He did?"
"Begged, really." She said distracted. "Not that I mind. It has been a joy having you here."
Hermione mulled that over as she lathered her French Toast in maple syrup.
"Hermione, dear. I've talked to your healers at St. Mungo's, as they've said you should be done with bedrest."
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley." She said, again unsure of what that meant. Was she supposed to leave now? She didn't want to. She wasn't ready to be alone.
As if Mrs. Weasley read her mind, she looked over, "That means it's time you can pitch in around here. Help out with cooking, chores and whatnot."
Hermione was the only witch in the world that, when told to do chores, broke into a brilliant smile. "Really?" She asked.
"That's right." Mrs. Weasley stated. "You can start with dishes this morning. Do you know the spell?"
Hermione nodded, finishing up her food and walking over to the deep sink. She called out a few spells as Mrs. Weasley finished cooking up the remainder of the biscuits. Mrs. Weasley gave her a few tips and they talked and laughed the morning away.
Although Mrs. Weasley knew Hermione would be pleased to have purpose again, she had no idea the extent to which Hermione engrossed herself in the chores.
Every morning she would come down, assist and learn how to cook a scrumptious meal, bring a plate out to Mr. Weasley in the shed (happily retired and tinkering), and then finished the dishes.
Then she would tell Mrs. Weasley about something she'd read in Disappearing Dust Bunnies, (Mrs. Weasley's book on cleaning spells and tips), then go off to practice, choosing a new room to deep clean that day.
Hermione's driven nature roared to life completing the most mundane and simplistic tasks to perfection. Days passed as Hermione mindlessly jumped from one chore to another.
Mrs. Weasley enjoyed the time to sit out on the back porch. And to have someone else around to mother, though she didn't quite know what to do with a child who loved chores. She'd never had one of those before.
One afternoon, Mr. Weasley stopped in the house as Hermione was fluffing pillows and laying them out to find the perfect distribution.
"Hermione, dear. I was wondering if you might come help me with something?"
Hermione smiled and followed Mr. Weasley out to his shed.
He looked around, then quickly opened the double doors.
"Is everything okay?" She asked cautiously.
"Yes, yes, now come inside before Molly sees us. She doesn't approve." He said quickly.
Hermione followed him into the shed.
"I'm afraid I've made it worse." He complained as they both stared at the machine in front of him.
"And what on earth, may I ask, is this?" Hermione laughed.
"It's Sirius' motorbike. I wanted to rebuild it, make it fly, and give it to Harry." He said.
Hermione looked up at him with pure love in her eyes. "That is so sweet."
"Yes, but I fear I've caused more damage than can be repaired." He said frowning.
"Nonsense." Hermione laughed. Her heart skipped a beat as she searched the room for the instruction manual.
Days passed and she spent her mornings with Mrs. Weasley cooking and cleaning, and her afternoons with Mr. Weasley fixing up the motorbike.
Nearly a month had passed and she was feeling better than ever. That is, until Weasley Family Dinner night, the last Sunday of the month arrived.
As if the weather mimicked the upset in her stomach, the clouds started to rumble.
Hermione had spent the day helping Mrs. Weasley cook a feast for the family. Her mind flitted back and forth between attending and running up to the room and hiding again.
"Smells delicious, Hermione." Mr. Weasley breathed in the kitchen air. "You must eat with us today. You simply cannot hole up in that room any longer."
Hermione agreed uncomfortably.
The time ticked away in the kitchen and she heard the first pop in the hallway.
"Percy!" Mrs. Weasley called as she walked into the living room giving him a big hug.
A few more pops were heard, and more of Mrs. Weasley's calls. "George, Charlie."
Hermione took a deep breath and walked out.
"Hermione, good to see you." George smiled, walking over to give her a big hug.
"You too, George."
She greeted the other two as Harry and Ginny popped in.
"Hermione!" Ginny grinned walking over. Harry stood there unsure.
"Hey Ginny." She said, giving her a hug. She then intentionally walked over to Harry, stopped in front of him, smiled, then gave him a tight squeeze.
Something in her had changed this past month. A refreshing familiarity to her old life, but something new too. Something she'd needed. A restart.
Harry tensed at first, but she could feel him melt in her arms.
"Good to see you, Hermione." He said softly.
"You too, Harry." She said earnestly.
She heard another pop and looked up to see Ron glaring at her, then at Harry as she pulled back from the embrace.
"Hi Ron." She said lightly.
Ron ignored her and quickly greeted the others before diverting the kitchen.
"Well, this isn't awkward at all." George joked, as Charlie punched his arm. Hermione looked away to hide the small blush creeping up the sides of her neck.
"It smells delicious, mum." Ginny said walking into the kitchen, the delectable odors filling the space.
"Thank you, sweetie, but Hermione made dinner this time." She smiled over at Hermione who climbed in between George and Percy.
"Really?" Harry posed, looking over at Hermione in surprise.
"Well…" Hermione smiled, "only because Mrs. Weasley walked me through every step."
Ron grumbled something under his breath as he moved to the furthest seat from Hermione.
"You're late." Mrs. Weasley called out to Bill, who was jogging into the kitchen.
"I know, mum. Fleur and Victoire couldn't make it." He said as he kissed her and jumped in next to Ron.
For the first half of the evening the conversation went on just as Hermione expected. Everyone chatting all at once across the table and grabbed all the food they could. All except for Ron, who she noticed had decidedly not picked out much food.
Conversation bounced from Harry, to Percy then to George describing the new prank toy he'd developed. It touched on Ron, who glanced at her as he lightly talked about his Auror work. Hermione remained quiet, letting them have family time.
"Speaking of" Bill jumped in, "Hermione, you've got to tell us what it was like as Greyback."
Everyone looked over at her. She glanced over at Ron who was strangling his fork.
"It was…itchy." She chuckled. Everyone laughed.
"Honestly, the hardest part was finding clothes in my size." She joked again, trying to make light.
"Yeah, that was the hardest part." Ron spat out.
Everyone went silent. Hermione gave him a look.
"Was there something you wanted to say, Ron?" She asked pointedly.
Why did they always have to do this?
Ron crossed his arms. "I'm just surprised you find the whole thing so funny. Sounds like a bleeding walk in the park."
"Obviously, it wasn't." She grumbled. "Can we move on please?"
"Okay" Harry jumped in, looking over at Ginny, who nodded in his direction desperate to change the subject.
He and Ginny stood up. "While we're...sharing...Ginny and I have some news." He said wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
"Please, gods, don't be pregnant." Hermione heard Mrs. Weasley mutter from across the table.
"We're Engaged!" Ginny squealed as she held out her finger showing off her new engagement ring.
Hermione watched all of the Weasley's spring up from around the table in congratulations. Mrs. Weasley cheered louder than the rest.
"Welcome to the family, Harry...Not that you weren't already." George laughed.
"Thanks."
Hermione followed suit, watching Ron quietly in the background offer his best fake smile. She was sure he'd already known, but there was something else pulling his smile down.
After everyone settled, conversation continued until dessert. Mrs. Weasley charmed the pies they'd made to float out on the table as everyone watched, salivating.
"How's my room holding up for you, Hermione?" Ginny asked across the table in polite conversation.
"Wonderful, thanks."
"How long will you be staying with us?" Charlie chimed in.
Hermione had tried to ignore that question, scared to be back on her own again.
"I'm not sure. As long as you'll have me, I suppose." She said honestly.
"As long as you like." Mr. Weasley affirmed across the table.
"Bloody brilliant." Ron muttered a little too loudly.
"Ronald." Mrs. Weasley hissed.
Hermione looked over at him, having about just about enough of him ruining this evening. If she could be polite, so could he.
"Can't you just enjoy the evening, Ron? Do you really have to throw out a snide comment every time someone asks me a question?" She called across the table.
"It's just a little annoying pretending like you give a shit about us. I'm just waiting for the minute you decide to split." He said coldly.
Hermione bit her tongue and took a breath.
"Fine, Ron. You win." She said throwing her napkin over her half-eaten pie, then looked politely over to Mrs. Weasley. "Thank you so much for inviting me to dinner. There are still gnomes in the garden. I'll go take care of them."
Hermione unceremoniously climbed out from behind the bench and stormed out of the house.
The blouse and denim capris she picked out would be ruined in the rain, but she didn't care as she stormed straight to the garden, kicking off her shoes and throwing her wand down next to it.
"Don't even think about acting like the victim here." Ron bellowed as he stormed out of the house behind her.
She ignored him, her toes squished into the muddy soil as she grabbed a gnome, wrenched it up and flung it across the yard.
He stormed across the lawn towards her, the rain now picking up speed.
"You are lucky to even be here." He shouted over to her.
"Yeah, because you begged your mom to come get me." She yelled back.
His face split into an embarrassed surprise.
"Well, if it wasn't for me, no one would have even bothered with you."
She dropped the gnome she was holding, stormed out of the garden and onto the blades of grass across from Ron.
"And why do you bother, Ron?" Hermione accused, jabbing him in the chest, water dripping off her dainty nose.
He turned, angry.
"See!" she yelled mirthfully over the rumbling thunder, "You can't even tell me how you feel now, when you're about to blow a bloody gasket."
Ron clipped his lips tightly together.
"Say something." She screamed.
He didn't move, but his fists were clenched white.
She moved forward and shoved him forcefully in the chest with her palms. He reflexively stepped back a few paces, but didn't respond.
"Stop treating me like porcelain Ron. Stop treating me like I'll break."
He made to say something but kept silent.
She sent a jab his way, he deflected it. She sent another in the other direction. He deflected it again.
"Did you never even see me? Never risk telling me your feelings because you'd thought I would break. Is that really what you think of me?"
"Stop testing me Hermione." He warned loudly. The thunder rumbled on and the rain didn't let up.
"We're going to settle this, Ron. One way or another." She yelled as she doubled back towards the garden and grabbed her wand, pointing it at Ron.
"You couldn't even kill me when you tried to avenge my death."
"Stop." he said, as she goaded.
"Seriously. You couldn't even kill me when you wanted to."
Hermione could see Ron's anger rising.
"You couldn't beat me even if you tried. I'm not made of glass; you can't break me!"
That was all it took for Ron to whip out his wand.
At the dinner table everyone heard the loud cracks and knew it wasn't thunder. Everyone looked awkwardly at their dessert and continued conversation as the war raged outside.
Lightning streaked across the lawn as Ron and Hermione screamed hexes at one another. Both excellent Aurors, easily deflected and countered everything headed their way.
One after the other, Hermione could tell she had struck a nerve. Ron's rising anger only inflamed her desire to make him even more angry. She wanted him furious. Just as furious as she was.
Crack. Hermione was sideswiped with a gust of wind from Ron's wand.
She flew back but her heels dug against the mud steadying her. Ron was ready again, but Hermione was faster.
"Expellearmus." She called, flipping his wand out of his grasp and onto the grass towards the Burrow.
Hermione was surprised to see that this didn't slow Ron. Before she realized it, he was running full tilt at her. Before she had the chance to call out another spell he had rammed into her full force and knocked her to the ground.
They wrestled, grabbing and punching, shoving each other, sliding and dodging. Time stood still as each of them threw every ounce of energy they had into the fight.
Hermione could tell Ron's tactics had improved. His shirt soaked and caked to his body accentuating every muscle, every move. She on the other had healed, but hadn't trained in a while. She gave everything to fight him off as they rolled around in the grass making angry grunting noises.
Her body was on fire as she threw every drop of anger stored up over the years at him. The mud streaked across their faces, Hermione's hair whipping this way and that, water flying after every move.
Ron gave a large final grunting roar as he flipped Hermione over and onto her back. He had pinned her, his legs straddled over her hips, firm hands holding her wrists to either side of her head.
She looked up at him and stopped fighting.
Both their chests heaved. As Ron looked down, Hermione watched droplets of water run from his fiery hair.
"Hermione." He panted, with an angry look in his eye that she couldn't make out. Were there also tears among the fall of the rain?
"I know you aren't made of glass…" He growled. "I am."
Hermione wasn't expecting that.
"I was scared. Scared to tell you how much you meant to me. Scared that when you kissed me, that maybe you didn't care for me as much as I did you."
Hermione didn't speak and didn't try to move.
"And then Fred. Of course I used the shop as an excuse. I needed to figure out how to show you that I could take care of the family. That I could take care of you."
Ron paused. "I...I loved you more than anything, Hermione." He half choked out.
Hermione's heart was thundering in her chest louder than the storm raging outside.
"I didn't know about your parents… You just stopped coming around. I tried to talk to you. I was so scared that I had lost the opportunity to tell you. I thought you were mad at me. And then you changed into someone I didn't even know. Someone that didn't even want me anymore…Someone that was too good for me." His voice lurched.
Hermione was sure there were tears now, not just from Ron's eyes, but from hers as well.
Ron hadn't moved away, and she daren't move a muscle.
"You broke my heart. And it broke again when I thought you died. And again, when I realized I...I'd almost killed you."
The rain continued to shower them, the rumbling of the thunder beginning to fade.
"I'm the one who's glass, Hermione. And you broke me into a million pieces."
They stared at each other.
Ron gave a long, pained sigh. "I can't do this anymore."
Slowly he released her wrists and pulled his sopping, mud-caked form off of her, and dragged himself back to the house.
Hermione, stunned, laid there unmoving as his words washed over her.