:)
Tons of thanks and gratitude to californiacougar and cheeeeesy for looking over the next two chapters!
oOo
The rest of the week flew by, and by the time Friday rolled around, Hermione was a nervous wreck. The idea of going to the Burrow and seeing everyone again was daunting, even if Harry had insisted that she would be welcomed back with open arms.
Half an hour before she was supposed to arrive at the Burrow, Hermione tried on five dresses before settling on the first one she'd picked. Though not too revealing, the short-sleeved minidress she chose was form-fitting and hugged her curves in all the right ways. About a year ago, she had bought it on impulse, and Blake had always told her she looked amazing in it. Smoothing out the dress, Hermione shook her head and forced her ex-boyfriend out of her mind. She was still struggling with the guilt of breaking his heart and only hoped he was doing well.
Slipping a pair of modest wedges on her feet, Hermione walked from her bedroom into her connected bathroom. There, she ran a bit of product through her hair to make it more manageable and selected the dainty necklace and earrings set her dad had bought her on her twentieth birthday. A couple spritzes of perfume, a coat of mascara, and a touch of blush later, she finally deemed herself ready and made her way into her living area.
Ron would almost certainly be at the Burrow tonight, and Hermione didn't feel ready to face his wrath for yet a third time. Being alone at her flat for most of that week had given her plenty of opportunity to think, though, and she now felt like she had a plan regarding moving forward with him.
The past two times, she decided, she had been weak. Hermione had let her emotions get the best of her, but she wouldn't be making that mistake again. If she wanted peace, she would have to start with herself. She vowed not to fight with Ron, no matter what he might say or do to provoke a row. She was determined to make him see that, even if they were never as close as they once were, they could still, at the very least, manage to be cordial with each other.
Hermione walked over to the fireplace to get going but hesitated at the last minute, her nerves getting the best of her. Harry had visited her flat Wednesday afternoon and connected her fireplace to the floo network while simultaneously granting her home instant access to both the Burrow and Grimmauld Place, but she just couldn't bring herself to leave. Instead, she turned around and started to pace back and forth in front of her sofa, practically wearing a hole in the carpet as she tried to gather enough courage to actually follow through with this.
"This is stupid," she muttered to herself. "It's going to be fine. So what if Ron doesn't want me there? This time, it's going to be different because I'm going to talk to him." She paused before amending her statement. "Calmly talk to him. I'll make him see that me being back is no big deal, and that I don't plan to interrupt his life at all. If he-"
Her rambling was cut short by an annoyed meow. Hermione looked down and saw Crookshanks sitting on the sofa, a judgmental expression on his squashed, flat face.
"What do you know?" she asked, moving her hands to her hips. "You're not the one who has to deal with an exasperating-as-hell Ronald Weasley!"
Hermione swore that Crookshanks rolled his eyes before jumping down to the floor and walking away, his tail waving indignantly in the air.
It was now ten minutes past four o'clock, and she was officially late. Not that she thought any of the Weasleys would mind ten measly minutes, but Hermione had always prided herself on being either early, or right on time. Taking a deep breath and steeling her shoulders, she walked over and grabbed a handful of floo powder. Not giving herself any time to think, she tossed the floo powder into the fireplace before stepping in and speaking her destination in a clear voice.
When the flames disappeared and Hermione finally opened her eyes, her breath caught in her throat as a strong wave of nostalgia hit her. Even with her limited view from the fireplace, the Burrow was exactly as she remembered it, down to the slightly crooked picture frames smattering the walls. With a smile on her face, she stepped out onto the colorful rug.,only then taking notice of the others already in the room.
Several people were standing around chatting: there was Bill, Fleur, Fred, George (and for some reason, Angelina Johnson), and Percy (who was standing next to a woman Hermione didn't recognize). One by one, the conversations halted as they became aware of her presence.
"Hermione!" Harry called out as he stepped in from another room and made his way towards her. "So glad you made it!" When he reached her, Harry handed her a full glass of wine before taking her free hand and leading her over to the others.
"Bill, you remember Hermione, right?" Harry asked in an overly enthusiastic voice as he pulled Hermione closer to the eldest Weasley son.
"Sure," Bill smiled. "Long time, no see." Hermione shook his offered hand. Although she'd only met him a couple of times, Bill had always seemed kind. "You remember Fleur?" he asked.
"Yes, hi," Hermione said as the beautiful blonde woman moved in to give her a kiss on each cheek.
Percy was next. He gave her a polite smile and small nod of acknowledgement before introducing the woman next to him as his wife, Audrey.
"Angelina!" Hermione exclaimed whenever it was her old schoolmate's turn to greet her. "How are you?"
Angelina gave her a quick hug before responding. "I'm great! In fact, I recently married this git, right here," she laughed, gesturing towards George.
"She only had to propose to me seven times before I agreed to marry her," George cut in, giving Hermione a hug as well. "Good to see you, Granger."
Fred was up next and gave her a hug before stepping back to admire her, letting out a low whistle that made her cheeks flush.
"Oh, it's more than just good to see you, Hermione. You look drop dead gorgeous," he said.
"What about you?" she asked, nodding towards his twin, who had walked over to the sofa with his wife, leaving her and Fred alone. "Are you married as well?"
Fred laughed and shook his head. "Hell no. I happen to like my freedom."
"Touché." Hermione smiled as she clinked her glass with his.
"So, there's no special bloke in Hermione Granger's life?" Fred pressed as he took a long sip of his drink.
She shook her head. "Not at the moment, no. But I just got a new job at the Ministry, and I start Monday. I'm going to be focused on that for the time being, so I'm not looking for a relationship."
"Can't say I'm surprised by that. You were always very driven."
"Some things never change," she replied, taking a sip of her own drink as her eyes unconsciously scanned the room.
"Ronnie's not here yet," Fred said in a knowing voice, causing Hermione's head to snap back in his direction. "Though, if he knew you were coming," he added with a smirk, "I'm sure he would have been the first one here."
"I wasn't looking for Ron!" she lied. "Besides, I've already run into him a few times, and I can assure you he was not at all happy to see me."
Fred frowned. "He already knows you're back? Damn. I wish I could have seen his face when he saw you. He must have freaked."
Hermione snorted. "Freaked is right."
"Poor sod. Can you blame him, though? You did break his heart."
Hermione's mouth dropped open at the ridiculousness of Fred's statement. "Me? I broke Ron's heart?"
"Well, yeah," Fred said, seemingly oblivious to her confusion. "I've gotten drunk with him enough times to know that." He shrugged. "But I'm sure he'll come around, eventually. He's just hurt, that's all."
"Hurt?" she repeated, still trying to make sense of what she was hearing.
Fred raised his eyebrows. "Yes, hurt. You left without saying a word to him, Hermione. Did you think he'd be happy?"
"At the time, I was pretty sure Ron wanted me to leave," she retorted. "We weren't talking at all, and he could hardly even look at me. I overheard him telling Ginny that things between us couldn't be fixed. What was I supposed to make of that, Fred?" Saying the words out loud hurt Hermione more than she thought they would, and her voice wavered.
Fred gave her a sympathetic smile before reaching out and giving her shoulder a squeeze. "That wasn't unusual for you two, though, right? You rowed all the time."
Hermione blinked back tears at the still-painful memory of those few days. "That row was different from the others," she said in a quiet voice.
"Everyone thinks you left because your parents made you, but Ron has always hinted at there being more to it. At least to me, he has. He won't tell me exactly what happened, but it had to have been something big to keep him that quiet."
Hermione bit her cheek so hard she tasted blood. Unable to say anything in response, she merely nodded.
Fred pursed his lips, but didn't press the issue. "Well. Whatever it was," he said, "I hope you two can work it out now."
Hermione took a deep breath. "Yeah. Me too."
"Speaking of the devil," he said, as his gaze went to something over her shoulder.
Heart pounding in her chest, Hermione turned her head to see Ron standing just outside the fireplace. He was wearing a pair of freshly-pressed, black dress trousers paired with a light blue, button-down shirt and was staring at her with a blank expression on his face. He seemed different somehow, more composed than the last few times she'd seen him, but for some reason, that didn't make her feel any better. His eyes flickered between her and Fred, and all Hermione could do was stare dumbly back at him, not knowing what to do. His lack of welcome since she'd come back bothered her more than she was willing to admit, but at least the anger was something. She'd prefer his fiery Weasley temper over this cold indifference.
Gulping, Hermione turned back to Fred, unable to take anymore of Ron's eye contact.
"Damn. That was an icy stare if I ever saw one," Fred muttered. "Want me to call him out on it?"
Hermione shook her head. "No. Absolutely not."
"I know he's upset, but he shouldn't be such a git."
"Maybe not, but he'll come around, eventually. Like you said, right?" she asked, hoping he would reassure her.
Fred nodded. "Right. Don't forgive him for that look unless he grovels at your feet, though," he said with a wink. "Make it entertaining for the rest of us."
Hermione looked over her shoulder to see that Ron was gone and let out a breath of relief.
Just then, Mrs. Weasley stepped into the room. "Dinner will be ready in just a few-Oh!" Spying Hermione, the matriarch of the family hurried towards her. "Hermione, dear, how lovely for you to join us!" Fred stepped back just as Hermione was engulfed in a tight hug from his mum.
"Glad to be here," she replied, though the words felt sour in her mouth because of the unease seeing Ron had caused.
Mr. Weasley walked in right after and greeted her as well. "Wonderful to see you, Hermione," he said. The three of them had a quick conversation as Molly and Arthur asked her how her parents were doing, Hermione assuring them that her parents were doing well and loving Montana.
"Well, I have a few more things to do, but dinner will be ready in a tick," Molly told her with a smile before sauntering back to the kitchen, her husband trailing behind her.
Hermione turned back to Fred, who looked amused. "Well, at least almost everyone is happy to see you," he pointed out.
She rolled her eyes. "Speaking of everyone, where's Ginny? She should be here. She's half of the engaged couple."
Fred shrugged. "Probably still getting dressed or something. She lives on her own time." The fireplace roared, and Hermione smiled as Ginny stepped out looking like a million bucks. "See?" he said. "I know things."
Ginny had just walked over to say hi when Mrs. Weasley's voice rang out, letting them know it was time to eat.
Everyone made their way from the living area, and when Hermione walked into the kitchen behind Fred, Ron was already seated at the table, sipping on a glass of what looked like firewhiskey and looking thoroughly miserable.
Hermione's heart dropped. She knew, without a doubt, that his sulking was due to her presence. For the first time since she'd arrived, she regretted coming. Taking a seat across and to the left of him, Hermione could only hope that the evening would improve and that she'd get to talk to him like she'd planned.
Dinner was served, and Hermione kept glancing out of the corner of her eye at Ron as she ate, trying to gauge his mood. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, though, as his gaze remained steadfastly fixed on his plate.
Had she really upset him that much when she'd left? Hermione hadn't thought so, but if Fred was right, which she was quickly coming to suspect that he was, then Ron's anger wasn't repulsion; he was lashing out because he'd been hurt. Hermione longed to get him alone, to go somewhere private so they could talk it out, but knew that it would have to wait.
Everyone else seemed interested in her time away, and Hermione was bombarded with a myriad of questions that she tried her best to answer, though her heart was not in the conversation. She was distressed to find that nobody else seemed to notice Ron's somber attitude, and the pit in her stomach grew.
What if she was pushing him too hard? It had been unfair of her to assume things could just go back to how they had been before. Desperation had clouded her judgment, but now she saw that coming to the Burrow even though Ron hadn't wanted her to had been a mistake. This was Ron's life, and she was forcing herself back into his family without thinking about what that would mean for him.
Bill was right in the middle of telling a work-related story, when it all became too much, and Hermione abruptly stood up from the table.
"I need some air," she choked out, not waiting for a reply before she ran from the room and out the back door.
oOo
Ron turned to the left, checking his reflection in the mirror. "Too much black," he muttered before ripping the shirt over his head and tossing it on top of his dresser. Now shirtless, he stood up straighter and cocked his head to the side as he studied his bare torso. Ron would never be a bulky man, but Auror workouts were no joke, and he'd put on a fair amount of muscle in the last few years. He chuckled as he imagined showing up shirtless tonight to the Burrow. His family would probably think he'd lost his mind, but he was curious as to what Hermione's reaction would be. Not that he thought he was irresistible or anything, but his body currently looked better than it ever had, and he was pretty proud of it. Now, if only he had a way to make his skin less pale and freckly.
Shaking his head at the nonsensical direction of his musings, he walked over to his closet and threw on a light blue, button-down shirt and called it a day. Walking as slowly as possible, Ron made it out of the bedroom and plopped down onto his sofa, letting out a heavy sigh. He was already late for Harry and Ginny's engagement party, but he didn't feel at all ready to face Hermione again.
The fireplace in front of him seemed to taunt him, calling him out for being such a coward about all of this. Although he'd cooled off considerably since Monday and no longer felt angry, he was exhausted and still not ready to deal with the fact that Hermione was back in his life, like it or not.
Despite trying to keep his mind off of her all week, thoughts of her plagued his every waking moment. He had not initiated anything with Maureen since imagining Hermione in her place while having sex with his co-worker. That night had left Ron feeling not only guilty as hell but also sick to his stomach.
He was positive that this engagement party was going to be a disaster, and he really only had himself to blame. If he could only be a rational person that didn't let his emotions get the best of him, things wouldn't be so awkward and negative between him and Hermione right now. Ron didn't have to be ecstatic at the circumstances, but he didn't have to blow things out of proportion, either.
At almost twenty minutes past four o'clock, Ron was as late as he thought he'd be able to get away with without risking his mum's temper. Forcing himself to stand and walk over to his fireplace, he tried optimistically telling himself that Hermione probably hadn't even shown up at all, and he was stressing himself out over nothing.
To his dismay, however, he was met with the sight of Hermione as soon as he stepped into the Burrow. She was standing on the other side of the room talking to Fred, their heads together as if they were discussing something important.
His mouth felt dry as he allowed himself to take in the sight of her while she wasn't looking. Her curls were somewhat tamed and flowing down her back, her hair longer than he'd ever seen it. Her light gray dress sent his blood pressure skyrocketing, causing his breath to hitch as a shot of desire passed through him.
His brother spotted him first, his lips moving as he said something to Hermione that made her turn to Ron as well. Her eyes widened, and she just stood there, frozen, staring at him. Ron held her gaze, but she visibly swallowed once before turning away from him, returning to her conversation with Fred as if Ron weren't even there.
Biting back a groan of frustration, Ron headed to the kitchen to see if there was any alcohol.
"Where have you been?" his mum demanded as he walked into the kitchen.
"Good to see you too, Mum," Ron replied in a dry voice.
His dad, who was tinkering with what looked like an ancient toaster at the counter, chuckled. "Late is better than never, Mollywobbles."
"Is there any firewhiskey?" he asked, already rummaging through the cabinets.
"There's butterbeer and wine," his dad supplied.
"Why do you need firewhiskey, Ronnie?" his mum asked as she turned to study him. "What's wrong?"
"Aha!" Ron cried as he found a full bottle at the back of the top cabinet.
"You didn't answer my question," she pressed.
"Nothing is wrong," he said as he poured himself a glass. "Everything is wonderful."
"We'll talk later," Mrs. Weasley insisted as she walked out of the kitchen with his father.
Ron sat at the table, listening as his parents quickly became aware of the 'new' person in the house. He told himself that tonight would go fine as long as he and Hermione could manage to ignore each other's existence. Afterwards, they could go home without a word and live their separate lives, just as they were supposed to.
"I just spoke to the reason for your sour mood," his mum said as she came back into the kitchen to check on dinner. "Honestly, I know you were quite sad when she moved away, but it wasn't as if she left to get away from you, dear. There should be no hard feelings, especially with how much you two used to care about each other."
"Right," Ron said, not in the mood to argue.
His parents exchanged a look but said nothing else. When Molly called everyone to the kitchen so they could eat, Ron slunk further down in his seat and kept his eyes on the table, wanting it to be clear he wasn't in the mood for chit-chat. As food was served and the conversation started up, he was happy to see his wish was being granted. He wasn't being spoken to at all, and for once, this felt like a good thing.
His eyes on his plate as he ate, Ron listened to everyone speaking and noticed something was amiss. Hermione spoke when asked questions, but Ron could tell by the tone of her voice that she was only answering to be polite and not because she particularly wanted to. As he wondered why that was, there was a small clatter. Looking up for the first time in what felt like hours, all Ron could see was Hermione getting to her feet.
"I need some air," she choked out. She didn't look at him or any of them, bolting from the room and out the back door before anyone could stop her.