A/N: Hi team! Sorry for being completely MIA for however many months. Hope you're all being as safe as you can be in 2021 so far. And if you're here for the escapism, I hope I'm able to provide you with that here. Much love.
Hermione drops the letter on the table and the men crane their neck to read it.
Hermione,
Mum and Ginny finally told me you were at Hogwarts. I want to talk. Meet me at the Three Broomsticks tonight at 9pm.
Ron.
"Oh bloody hell," Neville says irritably. "Why can't he just leave you alone?"
"Are you okay?" Remus has placed a hand on hers.
She still can't speak. It's as if her mouth has been glued together. Her head is spinning and she wishes she was anywhere else than here.
"I'll make some sugary tea," Neville says and immediately pours her a fresh mug and dumps two teaspoons of sugar into it. "There," he pushes it towards her.
Hermione reaches out her still shaking hands and takes it.
"You don't have to go," Neville tells her. "Just say the word and I'll go and have a bloody word with him myself. 'Want to talk' – I'll give him something to bloody well talk about."
"Neville," Remus prompts gently. "Not now. Shall we all go somewhere a bit more private?"
Neville nods eagerly. "Yeah, good idea, Remus. Come on, Hermione."
The three of them stand and Hermione feels like she's underwater – she's only half aware of her feet moving and the sounds of Remus and Neville speaking beside her.
Before she knows it, they're in Neville's office with the comforting smell of wet earth of the warmth of sunlight trapped in glass.
"Okay," Neville says, leaning on the edge of his desk. "Talk to us. What are you thinking?"
Hermione looks at them both. Remus is beside Neville and is looking at her with an expression of deep concern. The letter is balled up in her fist and she forces herself to open her fingers. The familiar sight of Ron's spidery handwriting wrenches something deep inside her. She wants to cry. But she doesn't.
"I –" Hermione clears her throat and tries again. "I don't know how he dares," she says. "It's been months. I have been so miserable and so deeply unhappy. He got to keep his friends and his family and I am the one who left to give HIM space. I'm the one who took this job here to GIVE HIM SPACE."
Now she's talking she can't stop and she's getting more and more angry, her voice rising.
"Are you going to go and meet him?" Remus asks.
Hermione nods. "I sure am," she says fiercely. "He doesn't get to think that I'm cowering here."
Neville looks simply triumphant. "I love it when you're all fired up," he says.
"Are you sure you want to go and meet him?" Remus says. "You don't think it will upset you?"
"Don't worry, she's still riding off the high of you two sleeping together," Neville says.
Hermione gapes at him. "How the –?"
"You two are delightfully unsubtle," he says dismissively as Hermione flushes bright red.
"Well," Remus clears his throat looking a bit pink. "I guess that's one way to bring it out."
Neville nudges him playfully in the ribs. "Lighten up, Lupin," he says with a grin. "I, personally am thrilled about it."
"Not as thrilled as I am," Remus says with a smile.
Hermione buries her face in her hands in pure mortification. "Can we please get back to my issue here?!" She says waving the letter in front of her.
"Sure thing," Neville says. "So you're going tonight to meet him. How do you feel?"
"Weird," she says. "I feel really weird."
"What are you going to say?"
"I don't know," she shrugs. "I won't know until I get there."
The clock chimes and Remus jumps. "Merlin," he says. "Sorry, I have to go – I've got to collect my potion from Madam Pomfrey." When both of them look at him blankly he sighs. "It's a full moon."
"I'll come with you," Hermione says. "I'm going to go do some work and try to distract myself."
"See you at dinner, Neville," Remus says.
"Bye, Nev," Hermione gives him a little wave.
"Bye guys," Neville stretches. "I'm going for a nap."
Remus and Hermione leave the greenhouse and she hugs the jumper closer to her.
"Nice jumper," he says.
"Thank you," she replies innocently. "It's a new favourite."
"So I'm never seeing it again, then?"
"Couldn't possibly say."
It's hanging in the air and Hermione opens her mouth to say something but Remus is already speaking.
"I can't believe the one night you might need me I'm going to be curled up in my room as a fucking werewolf," he says. "I'm … I'm so sorry."
Hermione shakes her head. "Please, don't apologise."
They lower their voices as students pass them on the marble staircase. They climb another set of stairs to the first floor and once out of sight and earshot of anyone who might be passing, Hermione pulls him to the side in a darkened alcove.
"This doesn't change anything – last night, or what I want," she says quietly.
"I hope not," Remus says. "But I understand why you're going."
"Thank you. I hate that he's put me in this position."
"I know."
She looks at him. "I can still come over tonight … I can sit with you."
Remus is already shaking his head, avoiding her gaze. "I'm not – I don't want you to see me like that."
"Hey, look at me," he reluctantly lifts his eyes to her. Looking around quickly, she then turns back to him and grabs his lapels to pull herself up on her tiptoes and kiss him clumsily on the mouth. When she pulls away, Remus is looking dazed but pleased.
"Risky," he teases.
She winks at him. "I can be a rule-breaker."
"Oh, I know," he says. "I need to go," Remus looks apologetic. "I'll see you later."
"Later," she says.
Remus squeezes her hand as he steps back into the light of the corridor. She waits a moment before heading off in the opposite direction back to her Transfiguration classroom.
For the next several hours, Hermione does what she does best when she's stressed or agitated – she works. Hard.
She's so engrossed in her lesson plans and marking that she completely misses lunch and is only roused from her workload when she realises that it's gone dark and her eyes are straining against the quickly setting sun.
Rubbing her eyes, Hermione stretches her back. She's missed lunch and it's closer to dinner time. With a stab of anxiety she remembers her meeting with Ron.
She decides to go to the Great Hall earlier than she usually would. There's no point getting started on anything else, and her draughty classroom is beginning to give her chills even through Remus' warm jumper. Her heart aches to think of him alone during his transformation tonight even though he won't let her be there. But she respects his privacy. Hermione can't imagine going through something like that every month.
It's almost 7pm and the Great Hall is half full already. Neither Neville or Remus are at the top table yet, so Hermione takes a seat beside McGonagall who greets her warmly.
"Evening, Hermione," she says.
"Good evening," Hermione responds. "Gosh, I'm frozen." She rubs her arms.
"Have some tea," McGonagall fills her a mug and passes it to her.
Hermione wraps her fingers around the hot ceramic, feeling the warmth spread through her hands. "Thank you."
"Are you feeling okay?" McGonagall asks with a slight frown. "You look a bit peaky."
"Oh it's nothing," Hermione shakes her head. "I've been working all afternoon in the classroom and I forgot to eat lunch."
"It's a Sunday," the old Headmistress says. "I hope you're making sure to try and have a life."
"Oh I wouldn't worry about that," Neville is approaching the table. "Hermione is having more fun than she ever has."
Hermione flashes her eyes at him. "Thank you, Neville," she says tersely.
He grins. "You're welcome," he then peers over the table at her. "You look awful," he says.
"Bore off and sit down," she rolls her eyes. "I'm fine."
"Why don't you ask Madam Pomfrey for a Pepper-Up Potion?" McGonagall suggests. "No harm in it."
"Good idea," Neville nods eagerly, coming to sit in between them.
"Sure, I'll get round to it," she says dismissively.
The large doors open again and Remus enters. Hermione has to consciously restrain herself from grinning as he comes closer. She thinks back to this morning, his body against hers and his breath in her ear. She squirms in her seat.
"Control yourself," Neville mutters.
"Shush," she hisses. "I can't believe you said that this morning about us sleeping together!"
Neville snorts with laughter. "I'm sorry," he says genuinely. "I was just trying to lighten the mood. Are you mad?"
"No," she says. "I couldn't be mad at you."
"We need a catch up. I need to know all the juicy details."
"Mhm," she hums evasively. "I've got a lot to catch you up on."
"Evening," Remus says, coming round the table to take his seat. "Where were you at lunch?" He directs to Hermione.
"Oh I got caught up working," she says.
He raises an eyebrow.
After a short speech from McGonagall, the feast is served and Hermione takes great joy in eating her first meal since the morning. Dinner passes quickly and at 8:30pm, Hermione realises with a surge of anxiety that she needs to head into Hogsmeade.
"I have to go," she says.
Neville and Remus look at her with a mixture of pity and encouragement.
"Good luck," they say in unison.
"You know where I am if you need me when you come back," Neville says. "Seriously, Hermione. No matter what time it is."
"Thank you," she says.
"And I shall endeavour to be at breakfast," Remus says looking embarrassed. "But I hope you'll both forgive me if I don't make it."
"Please, don't give it a second thought," she assures him. "Right. Later, boys."
"Bye, Hermione."
…
It's freezing outside.
Hermione is glad that she's donned a heavy travelling cloak and she pulls it tighter around her against the bitterness of the wind. She hadn't bothered dressing up for the meeting. She was wearing the same light makeup from this morning, Remus' jumper and some jeans. She knows she's put some weight back on since being at Hogwarts so at least she looks healthier than she did.
It's less than a half an hour walk into the town, but Hermione's mind is so preoccupied with anxiety that it passes far too quickly for her liking.
She finds herself on the cobblestones on the High Street, looking at the Three Broomsticks. The warm glow from the windows is inviting her inside but the heavy pit in her stomach has her rooted to the ground. How will she react to seeing him? What does he want to talk about?
The unpredictability of the entire situation is making her palms sweat. But the sooner she goes inside, the sooner it can be over with.
Steeling herself, Hermione straightens her back and pushes open the door to the pub.
The warmth hits her face immediately, stinging her frozen cheeks. It's busy, but there's no missing that shock of red hair over in the corner. Hermione's heart is pounding in her mouth and when he looks up and catches her eye, it almost stops altogether.
He waves her over and she makes her way through the throng to take a seat opposite him.
Ron looks older. Worn. Tired. Did she expect him to be cheery? Living his best life with a new girlfriend? Well, yes. She looks at him now, noting dark circles under his dull eyes.
'Hermione,' he says. He sounds as nervous as she feels.
'Hello, Ronald,' she says. Her own voice is softer than she expected.
'Uh,' he clears his throat. 'Drink?'
Hermione hesitates. She hadn't really expected to stay that long. Ron gives her an almost pleading look. 'Go on,' he says bracingly. 'For old times' sake.'
She sighs in defeat. 'Fine,' she says. 'One drink.'
'Great,' he looks relieved. 'Butterbeer? Firewhiskey?'
'Firewhiskey would be lovely, thanks.'
He stands and heads over to the bar to order for them. Hermione feels her nerves calming slightly. Things are rarely as bad in person as they are in your imagination and now she's actually here, there's nothing that bad about being back with Ron. It feels frighteningly … normal?
He comes back to the table, setting down two orders of Firewhiskey.
'Thanks,' Hermione manages a smile.
'No problem,' he says.
There's an awkward pause where neither of them seem to know where to begin.
'So,' Ron starts with a forced cheeriness. 'Hogwarts. How does it feel to be back?'
'Yeah, weird,' she says. 'Really strange.'
'You're with Neville, too right?'
'I am,' Hermione smiles. 'He's been great. Really helped me settle in.'
'Good,' Ron says. 'I'm really glad.'
'How about you?' She asks.
'Oh, same as ever,' he says vaguely. Sub-context tells Hermione that his aversion to the topic means he doesn't want to mention that he's still living in the house they bought together.
'So what did you want to talk about?' Hermione asks, taking a long drink of Firewhiskey in preparation for the potential answer.
Ron rubs the back of his neck and sighs. 'I don't … know how to say it. I'm not with anyone. That … didn't work out.'
'Oh,' she says. 'I'm sorry to hear it.'
Ron raises his eyebrows. 'Well anyway, I've been doing a lot of thinking and talking with Mum and Ginny. They told me not to ask you to come back.'
'Okay,' Hermione says slowly with a frown. 'So what …?'
Ron reaches forward and holds one of her hands in both of his. She yanks it back in a knee-jerk reflex. 'What are you doing?' She hisses.
'I'm sorry,' he says, sitting back and holding his hands up. ' I didn't mean to catch you off guard. I miss you. I hate how things have panned out. I hate that you can't come to The Burrow, or see Harry or Ginny very often. I know that it's my fault … I know I came off the best in the breakup.'
'What are you saying?' She asks, still confused. 'Are you asking to get back together or just if we can have an amicable future?'
Ron smiles sadly. 'Well would you consider getting back together?'
Hermione sighs and rubs her forehead. 'You can't be serious,' she says tiredly.
'Why not?' He says with a shrug. 'You were my best friend. We were great together.'
'No, we weren't,' she says firmly. 'You're just remembering the good parts.'
'So you admit, there were good parts!'
'Yes,' she says patiently. 'But there were also very, very bad parts.' Here, she leans into him and lowers her voice. 'Ron, we didn't touch each other for months. We slept apart most nights.'
He sighs. 'I know and I'm sorry. I was stressed at work and I pushed you away. I feel … so stupid.' He looks up. 'So this is it? No second chance? You've really given up?'
She raises an eyebrow. 'Ronald,' she says firmly. 'I never 'gave up'. We were both miserable. We were only together for the sake of other people.'
Ron sits back in his seat looking crestfallen. 'I really miss you,' he says thickly.
'I miss you too,' she says. 'But I miss what we can't have again – I miss the friendship.'
'Why can't we have it again?'
'Because we will both date other people. Are you saying you'd be happy with meeting someone else I was dating?'
'Yes,' Ron insists.
'No,' she corrects him gently. 'You wouldn't. And that's okay.'
He doesn't reply for a moment, his jaw set. 'But what if we —' he begins weakly.
'Please,' Hermione says gently. 'For both of us. Don't do this.'
He nods once. A muscle jumps in his jaw. 'Hermione —' he takes a deep breath. 'I want to fix all this. I want you to be able to see everyone again. Tell me what I can do.'
She smiles sadly. 'You can't fix it,' she says simply. 'It's happened and there's nothing you can do.'
Ron shakes his head, clearly dissatisfied with the answer. 'That's not enough,' he says. 'Do you want to join us for Christmas? Mum was thinking about asking Remus, too. Hey – he's at Hogwarts as well now, right?'
'What do you mean, Christmas?' Hermione says suddenly.
'Oh, yeah,' Ron rubs at the back of his neck. 'Mum wants to invite you both for Christmas. She was worried that neither of you would have anywhere to go.'
Hermione swallows hard and her heart begins to thud. Any and all feeling of being calm and level-headed had dissipated in the sudden anxiety surge.
'Oh,' she manages. 'Right.'
Ron blinks. 'If that's okay?'
'Sure!' She's over compensating and Ron's eyes narrow. Even know he knows her better than anyone.
'Look,' he says gently. 'I know it might be weird for you. You don't have to come. I won't mind.'
Hermione musters a weak smile. 'I'll think about it.' He's taken her anxious flush as being related to the idea of spending Christmas at the Burrow.
'Please do,' he says. 'Mum and Ginny would be chuffed.'
They sit in an awkward silence for a few seconds. Hermione takes a long drink of Firewhiskey to give her hands something to do, finishing the bottle in one gulp. Ron clears his throat and checks his watch.
'I'd better get back to the castle,' Hermione offers a painless end to the meeting and Ron jumps on gratefully.
'Yeah, I'd best be —'
'Sure.'
They sit in silence again for a split second before suddenly standing up in a flurry of disjointed and awkward pleasantries.
Ron's hand jerks towards Hermione's cloak at the same time as she reaches for it. Their fingers brush together and she yanks her hand back as if she's been burnt. Ron's ears flush and he drops his hand, instead busying himself with his own cloak. Hermione hurriedly throws her cloak back over her shoulders.
'Shall we?' Ron gestures towards the door.
'Absolutely,' Hermione wastes no time in weaving through the crowds and heading outside into the bracing air.
She plasters on a smile and turns to Ron. 'Well,' she says. 'This was … nice. It was nice to see you.'
Ron sighs. 'It was great to see you, Hermione. I really hope you think about Christmas.'
'Sure. Goodnight, Ronald,' she says.
'Goodnight.'
