Living in the Present
In Diagon Alley, at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, George was opening the shop windows while Fred set up the till. George glanced down the street to see his baby brother escort two lovely tall blondes out of the alley beside his shop. They each kissed him before Disapparating. Curious, George shouted over his shoulder, "Be back in a tic, Fred."
Ron was just opening the exterior door to the flat above his shop as George came into the alley.
"Good morning, brother," George called.
Ron turned around. "Morning. What are you doing here?"
"Couldn't help noticing your lovely guests as they were leaving." He started up the stairs.
Ron opened the door and stepped inside. George followed. Ron's ears had gone red.
"So, who were the ladies?" George asked.
Ron shrugged.
"Please tell me you at least got their names," George said, frowning.
"One of them was called Olga and the other was called Svet-something. Lana, Lina...it doesn't matter. They were only in town for the Magical Expo. They've got a Portkey back to Sweden this morning."
"Sisters?"
"No. Coworkers, I think. They designed charmed…" He shook his head. "Knives maybe. Or was it hats?"
"How many does that make?" George asked.
"How many what?"
"Women you've slept with since Hermione."
"Fuck off, George."
"Seriously, mate, at the rate you're going, you'll have to go overseas to find a witch you haven't already bedded." George shook his head. "You've got to stop this."
"Shagging? Never."
"You know what I mean," George said earnestly. "What's this about then. Why are you tearing through all of these women?"
"I'm not tearing through anything. They're up for a good time. I'm up for a good time, so we have a good time. They go home or I go home. Everyone is happy."
"You don't seem happy," George said.
Ron glanced down at the current issue of Quidditch Illustrated on the coffee table. He picked it up and tossed it at George. "How am I meant to be happy when she's doing rubbish like this?"
George looked at the cover. Viktor and Hermione stood back to back looking at each other over their shoulders. They each had an award floating above their palms. She was in a one-shouldered dress with a long slit up the side that showed a lot of leg. Her hair was up and smooth, accentuating her neck. Viktor stood next to her in perfectly fitted dress robes looking every bit the exotic athlete with perfectly cut hair and a steely gaze. The headline read At Home with the New Quidditch Power Couple. "It's not like this is the first cover of a magazine they've been on."
"I don't care about the bloody cover," Ron growled. "Did you read the article?"
"No," George said, opening the magazine to the central article. He skimmed through it. "What am I looking for?"
Ron let out an exasperated huff and pointed to the picture of a barefoot Hermione making bacon sandwiches. "Look at her."
George looked at the picture. It seemed unremarkable. Hermione had her hair in a braid and was wearing a flannel shirt and jeans. She looked much sexier with Viktor on the cover. "I don't get it."
"She could be seventeen in that photo. That could've been taken when we were on the run."
Ron's anguish was clear to George but he didn't quite get it. "I don't—"
"She's at home there. She's in his flat and she's at home!" Ron shouted. "She's never leaving him. She's making bacon sandwiches and standing around in her bare feet. She lives there."
"She's lived with him for months. You know that," George said, concern creeping up his spine.
"No!" Ron said, flipping the magazine back to the cover and stabbing his index finger at the picture of Hermione. "She's lived there for months. I don't know that woman." He reopened it to the center spread of photos and pointed to the photo of Hermione in the kitchen. "I know this woman." He pointed to the photo of her reading on the balcony. "This woman," he said, his voice cracking. "My Hermione. My Hermione is living with Viktor now." He dropped down on the sofa. "I'm fucked. It doesn't matter what I do. She's never coming back to me."
George was stunned to realize Ron had been holding out hope that Hermione would come back to him. He'd assumed because Ron never mentioned her that he was past that. When he'd seen them together at various functions, they'd both seemed fine, perhaps a bit cool, but civil. "I didn't realize," he said.
"What?" Ron asked.
"That you still loved her," George answered honestly.
"I wish I didn't. It's a bloody lost cause."
"Come on," George said. "There are a lot of fish in the sea. You'll meet someone else. Stop running around and actually date someone. You'll see. There are a lot of amazing women in the world."
Ron arched an eyebrow at him. "An expert on women now are you, George?"
For a second George thought Ron might know he was gay, but he dismissed that thought almost immediately. "I've had my fair share," he said defensively.
Ron snorted. "Whatever. I don't want a lot of amazing women. I just want the one."
George rolled his eyes. "So, what? You're never going to get married and have children because a girl you met when you were eleven doesn't want to be with you anymore. Come off it. That's ridiculous."
"Yeah," Ron said. "It would be, if that was all there was to it, but it's not, and we both know that."
George sighed. "What did you do?"
Ron looked at him. They'd come to blows over that question after Harry and Ginny's wedding when George had taken a very drunk Hermione home. Ron considered telling George to fuck off, but instead, he said, "I destroyed us."
"How?" George asked quietly.
Ron shook his head. "Doesn't matter. I can't fix it, so there's no point getting into it." He stood. "I've got to get ready for work. See yourself out, all right?" He went down the hall toward the bathroom.
A moment later, George heard the shower turn on. He sighed and went back to the shop.
