Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters.

A/N: Happy Thursday! Let's go on a ride through Hermione's mind, shall we?

Major shout-out goes to accio-broom for not only being the best beta, but also the best supporter! Thanks for cheering me on through the heartbreak :)

Ten Years

Chapter Four

I told you I would come back home

I know you hate to be alone

Instead of kissing you goodnight, I'm kissing strangers

Always listen, but I never learn

Should've been hanging on your every word

I was taking you for granted, never realized the danger

And now I took too long

And now he's gone

If I only knew right from wrong

He'd be right back in my arms

All I Got - Kwesi & Said the Sky

We cordially invite you to an award ceremony

In recognition of

Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger

Who will receive the

Order of Merlin, First Class

On the 2nd of May, 2002

For their act of outstanding bravery in magic

Hermione

Hermione stared for several minutes at the open invitation in her hand, still reeling from the news. She couldn't believe that she would be recognized, along with Harry and Ron, with the Order of Merlin. Hermione knew without a shadow of a doubt that none of them had gone on the run with any sort of inkling or hope that they would be remembered for their achievements. Their only goal was to succeed. Hell, they spent most of their time just fighting to stay alive.

As Hermione re-read the lines on the parchment, she stopped once her eyes scanned over Ron's name.

Ron.

There were so many things left unsaid between them after she had last seen him on the second of May, almost a whole year ago. His final words before he departed the library stuck with her, and were often the words she replayed over and over again in her head before falling asleep at night.

I wish I knew you wanted me to.

So much of the past year could have been different if she had just waited — if she had not reacted so emotionally. For Hermione, her instincts often switched between fight or flight. With Ron, the urge to fight almost always took the lead. However, on the night of Harry and Ginny's wedding, she ran. She ran cowardly away from the only person in the entire world who could understand how vulnerable she felt in that moment with him.

It wasn't long after their confrontation in the library before Hermione had come to terms with the fact that she certainly wasn't over Ron, and it wasn't fair for her to string Andrew along while she sorted out her feelings. Two months after she returned to America last year, she broke things off with him. However, she wasn't prepared for his response.

"Will you marry me?"

Hermione watched Andrew get down on one knee, ring in hand, completely baffled that she was in the middle of breaking up with him when he decided to throw caution to the wind. Regardless of Hermione's plans, she thought it was much too soon for him to be making a commitment as significant as that one. They barely knew each other. So, Hermione took one look into Andrew's hopeful eyes, and only one thought came to mind.

His eyes were the wrong color.

Andrew had dark brown eyes, void of any true comfort. Ron's eyes were lighter, almost an ocean blue. It was his particular set of blue eyes that she wanted to be looking into whilst being proposed to.

Her decision was incredibly clear, albeit a painful one to have to intentionally break someone else's heart. Although Andrew understood her decision, and she suspected he realized the reason behind it. Unfortunately, work didn't seem any less awkward after that. work didn't seem any less awkward after that.

Flash forward to May of 2002, and Hermione still hadn't managed to work up the courage to reach out to Ron. Honestly, what would she say? Although she had disclosed to Harry in a recent letter that she was no longer with Andrew, she hadn't a clue whether or not he had shared that information with Ron. Nor did she expect any sort of response from Ron even if he had learned of their break-up.

Instead, she had written a letter — a lengthy, seven-page letter at that. After all, Hermione was nothing if not thorough. She found it quite therapeutic to pour out her heart and soul onto those several pieces of parchment. It was her intention to one day send that letter to Ron. The question she needed answered now was: would he be willing to read it?

Hermione couldn't believe that Ginny had talked her into coming to the Burrow the day before the ceremony for a family picnic. Despite her initial protests, the redhead had insisted that everyone wanted her there, including Ron, and Hermione finally relented with only slight apprehension.

When she apparated directly onto the Burrow grounds, Hermione was surprised to find the party already in full swing. She chewed on her bottom lip nervously — she really ought to come home more frequently. Two years in a row now, she had almost drowned in a sea of anxiety from the unknown. How would Ron react to seeing her again? How would she tell him about…

Her thoughts drifted off when she caught sight of him. He had a beatific grin plastered to his face, his freshly-cut hair blowing wistfully in the wind. Ron was laughing at something a woman next to him was saying, who Hermione didn't recognize. The woman had long, chocolate brown hair that tumbled down her back, and she was wearing a bright yellow summer dress.

Hermione started to propel her feet forward in Ron's direction when the next interaction she saw made her freeze completely. The unknown woman had leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss on Ron's lips.

Hermione's heart plummeted straight to the floor. I have to get out of here. Before she had a chance to make herself scarce, Ron happened to glance down the hill, his grin fading fast as he locked eyes with her. Slowly, Hermione backed away, nearly tripping over her own feet in the process as she hastily made her way through the trees.

She needed to find a sense of comfort — to take a moment to clear her head before joining the group. Hermione found the familiar-looking willow tree and rested her back against the trunk, letting her body slide to the ground.

Deep, slow breaths, Hermione told herself. She really shouldn't have been surprised. Ron was incredibly attractive — leaving her blushing at the thought — and she hadn't given him any indication that there was anything left for the two of them as far as a relationship.

In fact, she came to the conclusion with a growing pit in her stomach, she wasn't sure there was much of a friendship left to salvage between them either.

The rustling of the tree leaves indicated that she was no longer alone, forcing her to glance up and find Ron emerging into view.

"You came."

His voice was short and straight to the point.

"I wasn't sure if I would, to be quite honest." It was ironic, she cringed inwardly at the notion, knowing that honesty wasn't one of her best qualities.

His face remained impassive as he leaned against the tree opposite from her. "Well, my family will be glad to see you."

Hermione winced at his words. Only his family.

Clearing her throat, she fiddled with her hands, not sure what else to do. "How have you been?"

"Good...er...good." He rubbed the back of his neck in a way that Hermione knew he had to be nervous. She pushed on,

"So...you're dating."

"Aren't you?" He threw back at her. No.

Ron lifted his chin and scanned the perimeter around them. "Where is Andrew, by the way?"

"He's…" Hermione swallowed roughly, "...not here."

Ron didn't respond immediately, so Hermione looked down at her hands, took a deep breath, and continued with what she had intended to confess.

"He proposed to me, actually…and I…" She wasn't sure why she paused. Why did she feel nervous to tell Ron? He had a girlfriend now.

She realized too late that she had waited too long to finish her thought, for when she finally gazed back up, Ron had disappeared, leaving her alone in the middle of all the trees. She wondered if that was how he felt when she left him in the same exact spot two years ago.

Ron

"Whoa, what's with the angry face?"

Harry watched his friend wearily as Ron came marching back up the hill, rejoining the gathering guests. His eyes fell on the case of butterbeers nearby, and he reached for one.

"No reason, just...hungry, is all."

Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing his lie. "That's not it. We're at the Burrow. If you were hungry, you'd go straight to the kitchen without a second thought. What's the real reason?"

Ron glared at Harry over the top of his bottle before ignoring his friend's question and taking a large swig.

"Hermione's here, isn't she?"

Ron released the rim of the bottle from his mouth with a loud pop. "Thanks for the warning!"

"Hey, you knew as well as I did that she was invited to come today! I only found out last night for sure when she owled me."

"Oh yeah? And what else have you two been whispering about, huh?"

Harry sighed tiredly. "What are you on about?"

"What other secrets are you keeping from me this time?"

Harry continued to frown but didn't stand down. "If you're still referencing Hermione, I doubt she has shared anymore with me than she has you."

"Yeah? So there's nothing going on with her and that Andrew tosser?" Ron fumed back.

Harry blinked and wrinkled his nose in confusion. "Andrew? Why would you bring him up?"

"There's something going on there that you know. Just spit it out."

"Ron, I…" Harry paused, clearly trying to process what Ron was asking before seemingly coming to a realization. "I guess I'm not the best person to ask. I thought you knew."

"Knew what?"

"Oh, no. I'm not doing this again." Harry made a move to leave, but Ron grabbed him by the arm.

"That fucker didn't hurt her, did he?" He had to know. He had to know if there was something else she was hiding...a reason why she showed up alone.

Harry's eyes widened, and he shook his head adamantly, providing Ron with an increased sense of relief. "No...not like that. Look, you just need to talk to her, mate."

Ron blurted out, "She told me she was engaged...is that what you're afraid to tell me?"

Harry's apprehensive face indicated to Ron that it might not be.

"Is there something else?" Ron urged on.

Ron didn't know what to make of the dumbfounded look that Harry displayed. "Like I said, you need to talk to her. I'm not getting in the middle of this anymore."

Harry jogged off without another word, leaving Ron to wonder how the fuck he'd already been driven barmy by Hermione in less than ten minutes after her arrival.

Again.

Hermione

Hermione emerged from her hiding spot several minutes later, thankfully receiving a much more enthusiastic greeting from the rest of the Weasley family members.

She especially enjoyed catching up with Bill and Fleur, who now had a young toddler running around.

"Auntie Hermione!" Victoire called, holding her arms out in a gesture that indicated she wanted to be lifted up.

Hermione grinned and obliged, picking the young girl up before swinging her back and forth in her arms, making Victoire giggle incessantly. She was floored that this perceptive little girl even knew her name, much less recognized her in person.

From the pictures we showed her, Fleur had mentioned — somehow, the notion that the Weasley's still kept her in their thoughts, after all of her time spent away, made her feel worse.

"You're a natural," Fleur observed with a wink.

Hermione's cheeks grew pink as she squeezed Victoire a little bit tighter in her arms. Her eyes flickered through the garden until they landed on a particular ginger who seemed to be watching her closely. Ron's face was unreadable as they made very brief eye contact. The moment was over quickly, for he redirected his attention back towards Harry, Ginny, and his girlfriend — Hermione had learned through the grapevine that the woman's name was Julia, and she worked as a Healer at St. Mungo's.

Victoire kicked her legs impatiently, and Hermione set her back down on her feet before watching the young toddler waddle off in search of a new companion.

"She's very social," Fleur smiled, handing Hermione a flute topped with champagne, which Hermione graciously accepted.

"Only the best from France!"

Hermione took a casual sip from the fizzy drink, savoring the taste of the rich brute. She needed all the liquid courage she could get if she was to make it through the day.

Hermione watched as Julia laughed at something Mrs. Weasley said. Julia wrapped her arm around Ron's waist, who was smiling brightly as he leaned his head over to rest on the top of Julia's head lovingly.

Hermione's throat closed up, and she took another swift drink of her champagne to ease the dryness. She didn't even notice Harry come up to stand beside her.

"Why didn't you tell him that you broke up with Andrew, Hermione? Don't you think he deserves to know?" Harry asked firmly. He didn't even bother with any sort of greeting.

Hermione sighed deeply and snuck another glance over at Ron. "He looks so happy, Harry."

"He's happier with you."

Hermione shook her head, fighting the tears now stinging her eyes. She knew that she was happier with him in her life — she wasn't so sure that feeling was reciprocated or that it should be.

"All I do is break his heart."

Her own heart pounded in her chest as Ron chose that moment to glance her way, forcing their eyes to lock momentarily.

She couldn't bear it, so she turned to look at Harry's pitiful gaze. "He deserves better than me."

Without another word, Hermione walked away back towards the house, paying no mind to the man who followed her trail with his eyes until she disappeared completely from view.

Hermione wasn't even sure where she was headed, yet she knew she had to take a moment for herself. It was laughable, really — to feel more suffocated from being outside rather than inside.

The house was empty, and she found her feet moving of their own accord up the creaky stairs. Hermione had just reached the top floor when a hand grasped her elbow and tugged her into a deserted room.

She soon found the culprit to be Ron, who shut the door softly behind them.

"Ron, what are you-"

"You can't look at me like that, Hermione."

Hermione grew stiff, her heart picking up speed again. "I'm not…"

"You are, and it's bloody distracting." Ron's voice was shaky, and he was barely looking at her, instead choosing to keep his hardened gaze pointed at her feet.

Hermione lowered her head, following his line of sight. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize…"

"You can't keep looking at me and expect me not to notice. I mean, bloody hell, you made your choice, right? You chose him, so you don't have any right to be looking at me that way."

If only he knew.

"Doesn't mean it's not still painful," Hermione admitted quietly.

Ron gulped visibly and turned away from her. She wondered what expression he was trying to hide from her.

Unable to stand the silence any longer, she hoarsely whispered, "I'm really happy you're happy, Ron…truly. I mean that."

Hermione, not sure what else there was to say, moved towards the door when Ron's hand pulled her back.

In one swift move, he had her shoved up against the wall, his breath hot on her face — their noses just barely brushed together.

"Don't," Hermione pleaded. No matter how much she desired nothing more than to snog him senseless, she couldn't let him do it. Not when he was with someone else. Not when he still thought she was with someone else.

"I'm not sure I can help it," Ron groaned, pressing his body against hers more firmly. Her mind was exploding with a rapid series of impure thoughts, making it almost impossible for her to think rationally.

But she needed to — for both of them.

Hermione bit her lip, fighting to avoid the desire that she knew clouded Ron's eyes...and judgment. "We can't. You don't know how much I wish things were different, but they're not."

Using two hands, Hermione pushed against Ron's solid chest firmly enough to cause him to stumble back in a daze. Without another word, Hermione exited the room, leaving a stunned Ron in her wake.

A short while later, Hermione found herself seated at a picnic table outside, chatting pleasurably with Harry and Ginny. She avoided Ron's gaze for the rest of the afternoon, and he noticeably steered clear of her as well, instead opting to sit with Julia at another nearby table with George and Angelina.

Harry and Ginny got up to go play with Victoire after Hermione reassured them that she would be fine alone for a few minutes. She didn't have much time to process, for Molly slid into the empty seat beside her.

"Hermione, dear." The warmth of Molly's smile put Hermione instantly at ease.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley. Thank you for having me."

Molly patted her gently on the arm, tilting her head to the side as she examined Hermione's face. "Oh, how I've missed you. Please tell me you're still happy over there in the States?"

Hermione nodded, hoping her eyes didn't betray her mouth. "I am. I love my job...it's a lot of hard work, but it is all going well."

Molly only hummed in response, breaking her gaze to observe her noisy family scattered about the garden. It was a beautiful feeling — being surrounded by so many people Hermione had so much love for. There was nothing quite like the atmosphere at the Burrow.

Hermione's eyes fell on the brunette who was now holding Ron's hand not so surreptitiously under the table.

"She's a nice girl."

Molly's voice startled her, and Hermione found herself looking back at the older witch, who was watching her knowingly.

"She seems to be." Hermione had yet to have a conversation with the woman, but she didn't have to in order to understand why Ron was dating her.

"Hermione, I know it might seem like…" Molly paused, reconsidering her words. "Just...don't think I don't know who my son truly belongs with."

Hermione's breathing was shallow as she attempted to focus on anything other than the pain she felt from Molly's words. Although she was sure Molly intended to be nothing but supportive, Hermione failed to see a clear path that ended happily for her and Ron.

Molly reached over and grasped Hermione's hand. "My Ronnie has always been loyal to a fault, and he wears his heart on his sleeve. Now, I don't quite know what has happened between you two, but I have faith that you will find your way back to each other."

Hermione let her gaze drift back over to Ron, her heart lifting as she observed him throw his head back and laugh. Molly squeezed her hand gently, bringing her attention back.

Molly leaned closer, whispering out of earshot from everyone else. "He just needs to know that you're ready." With that, Molly patted their joined hands one last time before briskly strolling off.

Hermione sincerely hoped that one day she would have even an ounce of the wisdom that Ron's mother had. She also hoped, with her whole heart, that Molly was right.

The awarding ceremony was, thankfully, fast and brief. Before long, the trio donned a bright green ribbon on their clothing.

The three of them were standing side by side, having spent the last half hour answering questions asked by various news outlets. Hermione was thoroughly exhausted, now having had just a glimpse into what Harry had dealt with over so many years of being in the public eye. Even now, she could see how much it made him uncomfortable — he absolutely hated being recognized for a Battle that many had lost, but he said it helped not having to go through it all alone.

"Now, please, hold hands if you will, smile for the camera!" The photographer guided them into position.

Hermione slipped her hand casually into Harry's, pausing momentarily before intertwining her fingers with Ron's on her other side. She thought she was imagining it at first, but it was very clear that Ron was rubbing soothing circles across the back of her hand with his thumb once he noticed her shaking out of nervousness.

The crowd roared with a standing ovation. The lights from the room were positively blinding, and Hermione couldn't make out a single face in the audience.

Her mind was racing just as rapidly as the flash from the camera. Out of all of the moments for her to have an epiphany, she wasn't expecting it to happen in front of hundreds of people.

It was time she took a stand. A year ago, she stood face to face with Ron in the library, claiming that she wanted him to fight for her. But really — did either of them know what they would be fighting for? She wasn't sure she did at the time, but now she was positive. Love. And right now, it wasn't on Ron to make that move.

Step one.

Garnering all remaining courage, Hermione leaned over to Ron's ear, "I said no."

Ron's head snapped towards Hermione's instantly, searching her face wildly. His dark eyes softened, shifting from confusion over her words to slow comprehension over what she was referring to.

The rest of the room faded away, leaving the two in a state of oblivion, both uncertain of where to go from there.