Disclaimer: My life savings is a grand total of 10 dollars…do you really think I own Harry Potter?

AN: A short, rather pointless, R/H ficlet, not too fluffly, not too angsty, just for the heck of it. Don't hate it too much!

Letting Go

There's no pain like loving something, and then having to let them go. I don't know if love is the right word about how I feel for Hermione, I don't know if a "right" word even really exists. There's just something about her….something about the way she smiles, the way she yells, that drives me crazy.

I don't know how she does it, but somehow or another; she's put me under her spell. I remember in the early days, I use to spend late nights in the library, positive that it really was some kind of magic she had cast on me. Eventually I realized this wasn't the kind of magic that could be conjured with some Latin phrase or wooden wand; it was something more powerful and even more unexplainable. It was love.

We fought a lot. We always fought a lot. On my part, at least, it was only because I cared. I wanted so much to impress her, I wanted so much to be right, and I wanted so much for all I felt for her to never show, that it often turned into bickering. Most of the time, it lead to actual anger. She's so arrogant! She doesn't care about anyone but herself! She treats me like dirt! I'll never forgive her this time!  

But I always forgave her. No matter how mad I had been, no matter how much I said I wouldn't, I always forgave her; I always apologized; I always surrendered. Because the fact was, even when I was mad at her, I still loved her. Every smile she gave, every sign that she might considering forgiving me, made my heart race, made me giddy with hope.

I scorned myself. I told myself to be stronger. I hated myself for letting her have so much control over me. But it couldn't be helped. She had gotten a hold on me without even trying. In a word, I was hers. I lived for her. I spent every waking moment thinking of her, trying to impress her, trying to make her feel the same way about me that I felt about her.

There were a few, miraculous moments when I thought it might be working, when she kissed me on the cheek, when she held my hand, when she grinned. I played every moment over and over in my head and every time, felt a rush of happiness that I couldn't describe. I had a chance! She might actually care! I had a chance.  

But then, of course, there was Harry, my best friend, Mr. Save-the-world-poster-boy. How could I ever stand a chance against him? I knew I didn't. And it killed me whenever they were together because I saw her laugh with him too, and smile with him, and kiss his cheek, and hold his hand. Suddenly, I hated my best friend. I had an almost undeniable urge to whip out my wand and hit him with the worse curse I could fathom.

I scorned myself. I told myself to be stronger. I hated myself for letting her have so much control over me, for making me hate my best friend. But it couldn't be helped, could it? It could never be helped.

Then, something miraculous happened. The world started buzzing with rumors. "I'm telling you Ron, Hermione totally digs you," Seamus Finnigan assured me. I always denied it, just to hear them try to convince me. And there was hope again.

She had been acting strange around me, awkward hugs, blushing glances, and it hit me like a bullet. It was true. She cared.

So there I had it, what I had been waiting for so long. What I had been wishing for for six years. Hermione cared about me. All I had to do was confess, tell her how I felt about her for all these years, and I could finally hold her, kiss her, hug her, like I had been dreaming about…but I couldn't.

I knew, for once in her life, she was confused. My pathetic attempts to win her over had done so…but that was all. She hadn't fallen for me; she had fallen for being fallen for. She couldn't possibly know what she was getting herself into.

I had tricked her and made her believe I was worth something.  I wasn't. I was a poor, lanky, freckled excuse for a human being…I could never give her what Harry could give her.

I watched as she laughed at a joke Harry had told. She was always smiling when she was around him. I remembered my Mom watching them together and whispering in my ear, "Don't they just look like they belong?" They did. God, they did. That was what love was. It was joking, laughing, getting along. It wasn't holding on by the rim of your pants, wondering how long before one of you explodes.

Hermione didn't belong with me. She belonged with Harry, and if I loved her as much as I claimed to, then I would have to stand down, lest I stand in their way.

So I did. I ignored Hermione at all costs, hugged back loosely when she hugged me tight, avoided her whenever possible. I watched from the sidelines as her feelings for me slowly began to dissolve. I knew I was doing the right thing…but it certainly didn't feel like it.

There's no pain like loving something, and then having to let it go, but it's even worse when you know it will never come back to you again. I was right about Hermione and Harry. They started dating not to long after. They never fought, never argued, never wanted to kill each other. That was right; that was how it was suppose to be.

I'll never "get over" Hermione. Even now, years after I decided to make myself a martyr to their cause, I still get a tingling feeling whenever she's around. I'm not so sure that if she asked me to give up my life for her, I wouldn't. I think back on those hugs, those kisses on my cheek, and a bittersweet sickness washes over me. What could have been? How much did I lose? What if I was wrong?

But questions like that don't do me any good. I made my decision. I let Hermione get away. But perhaps, it was for the better of us both. She was happy now, happy with Harry, happy with normality and structure. That is something we could have never been.

Sometimes I muse that what we had was real love. Not the fake "and they live happily ever after" kind but the real kind. The kind with trials and tribulations that was as much miserable as it was wonderful. There was a passion, a fire, that would never let us slip into stagnant, expected routine.

But a stagnant, expected routine was easiest. It would cause the least heartache and the least trouble. Hermione needed something steady, someone she could rely on and truthfully, real love was never too effective in the real world.

Maybe someday I'll find someone steady and reliable too, someone who doesn't make my heart race and my blood boil. When I do, if I do, it will never hamper what I feel for Hermione. It couldn't, nothing could. Because what good would sunshine be if it never rained?

"Ron?" Hermione asked sweetly, looking like an angel in her cascading white wedding gown.

"Er, yeah?" I answered weakily, tugging uncomfortably on my black suit.

"Well," she said, a strange, thoughtful look broadcast over her face, "Thanks. For everything." She wrapped her gloved arms around my waist and hugged tightly.   

I smiled sadly.

"You know," she started, gazing at her self in the full length mirror and straightening her sparkling veil one last time. "I know it's kind of silly…but…I guess, I always thought it would be us." 

She looked towards me, and though nothing in her tone had indicated it, I knew she was asking me a question.

"Me too," I admitted, being honest with her for the first time in a long time. "Or at least I had hoped. But I guess sometimes what we hope for…isn't really what's best for us in the end."

She nodded, her eyes sincere. Suddenly, we both knew.

"I love you Ron," she said, even though she didn't have to.

"I love you too Hermione," I said, even though she already knew.

And for the first and last time, she kissed me gently on the lips. She squeezed my hand knowingly and then turned.

I watched as the only girl I would ever loved walked down the aisle to marry my best friend.

I smiled once more.

"Good bye, Hermione."

Fin.

AN: Hope you liked it, or didn't hate it beyond all belief! Can't wait for the quickly approaching third movie and far…far…far…away 6th book :(

Best wishes and warmest regards,

Soragirl

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