a/n: Fair warning for an unedited chapter that was meant to be longer, but I have been flooded with msgs and reviews asking me to update and this is all O could manage while balancing the crazy of rl! I hope everyone is keeping safe and thank you so much for sticking with this story!

Chapter 29: Blue

Hermione was way too restless to concentrate on the tiny heap of parchments that she was supposed to work on. Her quill, held aloft, was dripping ink onto an empty scroll while she stared unseeing at the wall ahead before she noticed the big blue blotch on the parchment and dropped her quill back into the inkwell to recline back on her chair instead, sighing deeply. The small brass clock on the desk told her it was almost an hour past noon. She exhaled soundly, twisting her fingers as anxiety made every passing moment agonising.

A gentle tap on the window broke her musing and she looked up, noticing the familiar owl carrying a small letter.

"No," she exclaimed quietly to herself as Pig flew in and landed on the desk. He dropped the letter in front of her before looking up at her with his big brown eyes. She patted him fondly on the head before Accio-ing the Owl-treat jar and offering him a few. He hooted happily and nipped on his treats while she extended a trembling hand towards the sealed scroll and unfurled it, dreading its contents, hoping fervently that Ron wasn't refusing now...

The familiar writing sent a pang through her heart. There was just a single line; perhaps he hadn't figured how to address her or sign off.

'Are you really sure about this? Let me know.'

Exhaling in relief she picked up her quill and grabbed a spare piece of parchment before pausing suddenly.

"Go back," she told Pig, brushing his feathers tenderly, "I'll Floo him a reply," she added. The owl hooted, headbutting her arm before flying out of the window.

She waited till Pig was nothing but a speck in the sky and pushed back her chair, suddenly very unsure about the desire to see Ron again. What was it that she was hoping for, she pondered quietly to herself. It was evident that for both of them this was an arrangement to keep the family happy and nothing more. And yet…

She hurried towards the Floo and took a handful of Floo powder and threw it in the grate. Calling out her destination, she dived her head in the green flames before she could overthink anymore.

As the distorted visions of the intermediate grates faded out, she shook her head and opened her eyes to an empty living room and suddenly there was Ron approaching from the corridor, wearing a dark grey pair of track pants and a black inner vest, stirring a cup of hot beverage. He seemed to be engrossed in his thoughts, his hair ruffled in the same careless way she remembered from school and it sent a pang straight to her heart. Hermione looked away, fighting the memories and her tears. A sharp gasp echoed in the quiet of the room and she looked up to notice him catching the button-down he might have Accioed from his room. He held the clothing to his chest awkwardly as he walked ahead without meeting her eyes, dropped the cup on a side table and turned away to pull on the shirt before he faced her and gave her a conscious smile.

"Wasn't expecting you," he replied with a small smile and he padded forward and collapsed on his knees in front of the grate.

"I… yeah," she began, struggling to find words. It now seemed like a very stupid move to have come calling, unannounced. "Pig dropped off your letter," she managed awkwardly.

"Yeah," he muttered, biting his lower lip. "Umm… just wanted to check… you know, we won't be able to undo this once you announce...it", he finished.

She looked away. It was somehow very hard to find him so close again and not run into his arms. "I am pretty sure…" She met his eyes "And you?"

There was a pause... and something else in those blue orbs she couldn't read clearly. "I gave you my word, ain't going back now," he replied with more determination than she had expected. "Just don't fancy all the lying parts," he added softly. They remained quiet in a very odd sort of silence before he spoke again. "Did Mum force you into asking me?" he asked; there was a lot of bitterness in his words this time.

"No," she replied quickly, "She just suggested."

"She is good at suggesting stuff she wants," he added coldly. "And Harry?"

"Well… you'd know better about him," she added sourly. "Even among the three of us, he has always been closer to you."

"Has he been bugging you?" he asked, and Hermione noticed the slight clenching of his jaw bone. "You know about… us."

"You really don't know?"

"I know I specifically asked him not to."

She sighed softly. "Doesn't matter now," she replied. "So you are meeting Mum with me in the evening, aren't you?" she asked slowly.

"Yeah," he replied, giving her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'll be at your place at three?"

"Sure."

They gave each other a very polite smile before Hemione quickly pulled out of the grate.

…

A fine drizzle hit him as his feet landed in a very dark alley a few blocks away from her flat. He tugged the hood of his jacket and pocketed his wand. Sticking his hands inside his pockets, he walked out of the alley and soon blended in with the passersby on the pavement. Ron could hardly ignore all the anxiousness that had been building inside him from the time she had asked for the 'favour'. He knew agreeing to her plans was a bad idea- no one would buy the lie. But he had failed to refuse when he had the chance and now he stood at a very precarious juncture- he was assisting her to get into a loveless marriage. Well, not entirely loveless, argued his heart, yet again making his guilt more pronounced. Was he being a jerk and taking undue advantage of her situation? His pace slowed as he went over and over all the future scenarios, and despite all his attempts there was the tiniest flicker of hope and he found himself clinging onto it despite his better judgement.

The wind picked up, intensifying the onslaught of raindrops it carried and by the time he landed at her doorstep, he was cold and wet, but could hardly concentrate on it. Right in front of him was the same door that had closed on him barely a month ago. It took him more courage than he anticipated as he knocked on it once. Surprisingly the door opened immediately as if Hermione had been actually waiting for him.

"Hey-" he called before his eyes found hers and Ron lost his train of thought. Hermione looked incredibly pretty, just like he remembered from Bill and Fleur's wedding. She met his eyes and for the very first time in what seemed like an eternity, there was a small smile that didn't seem forced or formal.

"Oh!" she gasped, taking a look at his drenched form. "Get in," she added urgently, pulling him in by the hand before leaving it abruptly, consciously. Turning away she busied herself to close the door shut. "You need to dry off," she suggested in a very strange voice and accioed a towel, handing it to him without looking at his eyes. "You can use the washroom, I'll fix us some coffee," she muttered in a very soft whisper before leaving.

Ron stood there for a solid moment before noticing the pale peach towel in his hands and walked down the familiar hall into her bedroom and the attached wash. He avoided looking at the bed that held a lot of memories as he shut the door to the washroom, realising that he could have easily dried himself with magic and she did not have to ask him to walk into her private space considering the small flat didn't have a second bathroom.

…..

Hermione tried not to think how insane her behaviour was as she poured milk into the second cup. More importantly, she tried hard to remind herself that the entire getting engaged business was purely out of need- she wasn't supposed to lose her head at the sight of him. But she reckoned her brain had not considered the possibility of coming face to face with a rain-drenched Ron when it had made that decision. She tugged on her cardigan, looking down at the way the knee-length skirt swirled at every little movement; the amount of skin she was showing was insane. She suddenly felt very stupid at having taken the time to actually get dressed- this wasn't an actual engagement after all.

There was a soft click of the washroom door and suddenly, she could vividly imagine Ron under the very familiar shower head, the same one which had been intentionally raised to accommodate his height. She remembered the way the water would flow down his freckled chest and back in rivulets. She could picture herself wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down till his lips found hers, and could almost hear the deep moan that would rumble in his chest. There was a tug at the base of her navel as she remembered the feel of his palms as he cupped the back of her thighs and lifted her up, her back pressed against the hard tiles while he did away with the small gap separating their bodies. In the present, an involuntary moan escaped her before the oven beeped and she gasped, suddenly aware of her surroundings. Flushed scarlet at the memory, she quickly placed the mugs on a tray with a shaky hand and dusted her skirt consciously. She left the kitchen trying desperately to steady her jittery nerves.

Hermione found Ron standing next to the sliding glass door that opened into her small balcony, looking at the steady downpour outside. As she placed the tray down on the centre-table, she noticed a single red rose placed over a package; it looked like a book.

Ron turned at her sound and she found his eyes watching her with more softness than she had seen in a long time. For a moment, she wondered if she had missed this bit of him earlier or if Ron was only shedding his mask now that they were going to be engaged- albeit as a pretence. Nevertheless, she couldn't stop her own smile and looked away, struggling to hold onto all the grudges she had against him. Gathering all the courage, she picked both their mugs and walked up to him and handed it to Ron who took it- careful not to touch her fingers during the exchange.

"It's a new book- History of Magic in the Eastern World, he indicated the wrapping with a small nudge of his head and she gasped and looked up, unable to hide the cheer from her voice. "How did you get it?" she asked happily as she hurried back to the table, placed her mug down and picked up the packet eagerly, unwrapping it. She heard a faint chuckle as she dropped the wrapping and traced the intricate gold letters with her palm. "They weren't even taking any pre-orders!" she sighed blissfully.

"I know," he replied and Hermione turned back to find him reclining against the wall, watching her fondly, a rare smile lighting up his features and making him look so similar to the seventeen-years-old boy she remembered that it sent an ache through her heart. "I placed the order with the publisher directly; it's an author-signed copy too," Ron continued, gesturing slightly with his mug before he took a swig.

"You ordered this last month." It wasn't a question.

"Reckoned you wouldn't wanna miss it," he replied quietly.

She absorbed that information and placed the book back carefully on the table before she grabbed her mug and walked back to him, taking her place next to the wall opposite his. As the rain continued to pour heavily they remained silent, each drinking from their mugs, and if Hermione wasn't too mistaken, stealing glances when the other wasn't looking. She had expected it to be awkward, uncomfortable even but somehow, everything- even the familiar flat she called home, seemed so much more cosier with him around.

"How are we travelling?" he inquired.

"Huh? Oh, Apparating," she provided, grabbing her cup harder. She quietly hoped that their act would be convincing enough- felt his movement as he extended his hand and she handed him her empty mug, silently fearing that perhaps it would be a little too convincing instead- probably enough to fool her stupid heart. It was getting hard to remember that it was all an act- he wasn't in love with her, merely helping her out.

Ron returned soon and broke her musing by clearing his throat softly. He dug inside his jeans and pulled out a small, blue velvet box and Hermione found herself holding her breath- wondering if it held the familiar piece of jewellery that had once been hers…

The light from the lamp glinted on the many small diamonds that went around the white band, encircling the blue stone that sat in the centre. The ring wasn't huge but cut beautifully and something she knew she'd comfortably wear- she never wanted a big stone to start with anyway. Ron pocketed the empty case and continued to look at the ring before he looked up and their eyes met instantly- and she found herself looking at the same shade of blue as the ring he was holding.

"Didn't want this for you," he said haltingly, looking strangely torn.

"What are you talking about?" she inquired, realising how close they were standing, how softly they could speak and still hear each other.

"Didn't want you getting into a loveless marriage- marrying a man you hate," he responded bitterly.

"I'm not marrying a man I hate," she replied before she could stop herself as she looked at the ring he was holding, aching softly for the gold one that carried the promise that he'd be hers forever.

"You are marrying me," he replied with a hollow laugh.

"I don't hate you," she replied again, "I want to but…" she paused and looked away, biting her lips to stop the words, "I couldn't have trusted anyone else for this," she replied instead as she looked back and found Ron watching her. There was something so vulnerable in his features that she ached to pull him into his arms. He exhaled softly and lifted his left hand and she placed hers on it- the touch sending a pang straight to her heart and she forced herself to breathe and hold on. No, she couldn't run into his arms, she reminded herself fiercely.

Ron paused for a moment and slowly slipped the ring on her finger; it fit perfectly and she looked up again, finding his eyes on hers before it dipped to her lips and there was the tiniest movement- a slight tilt of his head, the smallest inching closer of his body before he held himself back abruptly. He met her eyes, let go of her hand and took a couple of paces back to recline against the wall.

Hermione watched the ring adorning her finger and bit back a tear before she sniffed a little and looked up at his face. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," he replied softly- it almost sounded like a plea.

"Why did you agree?"

"I have… hurt everyone I love, just trying to do whatever I can to make them happy," he replied cryptically. She didn't allow herself to dwell on his words or allow her heart to infer more than there was present.

"You know I was… engaged," she managed, "and yet you agreed."

"Do you still want to be with him?" he asked and Hermione found herself fearful of looking into his eyes. His tone gave out nothing.

"This might be an act but I … I won't put you in such a situation," she replied.

"I know you won't," he responded, "just want to know if it will be out of choice or compulsion."

She met his eyes this time. "I made up my mind when I came knocking at your door, and I've made my choice."

He nodded once.

"And you?" she found herself asking, "I never asked you if you have anyone in your life now," she paused and looked away, "Am I asking this way too late?"

"You don't have to worry about me," he replied as she met his eyes, searching for the trace of regret- and shocked at how her heart twisted at the thought of him with some other woman. Ron looked on the verge of saying something else before he shook his head and scratched the back of his neck. "I wasn't seeing anyone," he mumbled.

"Where were you all those years?" she asked suddenly, surprising even herself and noticed how Ron seemed to be taken aback. He met her gaze and didn't look away when he replied.

"Belgium."

"What were you doing."

"I was an undercover agent; infiltrated a muggle criminal gang that was controlled by some escaped Death Eaters."

She wanted to know more and looked like Ron was only waiting for her to ask. She fought back the urge to go on, knowing well that she probably was not ready for the answers- yet.

"No more questions?" he asked as she continued to look away, watching the downpour lose its intensity.

"No," she replied without looking at him. He didn't argue, neither did he plead with her to listen.

"We should be leaving now," he said after a while and she sighed and turned around.

"Let's pretend to be happily engaged," she muttered with a hollow laugh.

"Of course," he replied.