Chapter Nine: Emotional Capacity

Setting: Hogwarts grounds, next to the lake. Dumbledore's funeral.

A/N: This is the last chapter! I meant to write about the moments where Ron and Hermione are left alone together throughout book six, and I did.

It's been a very interesting journey, writing a short story that people actually reviewed. If you read my profile, you'd know that longer stories can't be expected of me—I gain and lose interest very quickly. My coming stories will rarely exceed ten chapters, except perhaps my very first one, which I have decided to continue, although it will be a process of the next two years or so if I do.

Thank you.


Hermione—

My God—what will happen to us, Ron?

I don't know.

Ron—

I really, truly don't know, Hermione—I'm the wrong person to ask.

Ron—I have to tell you something . . . now, while Harry and Ginny are talking.

(Pause)

If something happens to you—

No—

No—if something happens to you, I can't live without knowing.

Hermione!

(Silence)

If something happens to either of us, I want to know before I die. Or you die.

You already know. It took me a while, but you knew.

(Pause)

It must sound terrible at a time like this, Ron, but I sometimes wish no one would have to grieve for anything. Not now.

What are you saying?

There are precious few things to rejoice over, Ron—I feel like we're celebrating death. The way that idiot man kept on going—what does it matter, what he's accomplished? What does it matter that he had nobility of spirit, or gave intellectual contributions, or had a greatness of spirit?

(Pause)

A—a lot, Hermione. It matters like now when you somehow managed to memorize phrases out of a dumb speech. It would matter to me.

I really memorized it, didn't I?

Yeah. You did.

Oh—Ron—

(Pause)

I thought that would cheer you up, not make you cry.

It did, in a way.

Um—I'd really like to ask you something but it may not be the right moment.

Go on.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Did you cry from happiness, 'Mione? Or sadness? I can never tell with girls.

(Pause)

Both, I think.

Oh.

Ron—sometimes people don't want to come to terms with death, so they try to mask it with laughter. And sometimes it almost cheers up the people around them, but they're still sad inside and they don't know what to make of it.

Oh.

Be still for a moment.

(Pause)

Ron—

(Silence)

I love you.

No, you don't. You're the one who kept telling me that teenagers our age didn't have the emotional capacity or something to love.

There are different kinds of love.

I know but you can't possibly mean it the same way as you love Harry.

No. It's different than that. You understand. You just don't want to have to deal with it.

(Pause)

I do want to deal with it, Hermione. I've waited two years to tell you that. I didn't think you would be the one to tell me.

Ron, I've waited six years.

I know. But you still ignored me.

You didn't grow up with me, Ron. I'm sorry, but for a while I didn't think we'd have a worthwhile conversation.

Yeah. I was a bit of a prat for long time, not a while—but then when I was ready you were never there.

I know. I'm sorry.

(Pause)

So now are you crying for me or for Dumbledore?

For the world.

Cryptic to the last.

(Pause)

Harry and Scrimgeour are talking again.

I know. I don't want to think about it.

(Pause)

Do you see how much we've changed, Ron?

I—think I do.

A while ago you wouldn't have known the word 'cryptic.' And an even shorter while ago I would have used that information to insult your intelligence. And now you've stopped pretending to take so much care in what happens between Scrimgeour and Harry, because quite honestly, you don't care a whit.

I do care a whit, but I care more for us. And about 'cryptic'—a while ago I learned to listen more carefully to you.

And a while ago I learned to listen less carefully to you.

(Pause)

What will happen to us, Hermione?

I have guesses.

I mean in both the measure of the world around us and just us.

We will both stick with Harry.

Yes. Even if we have to glue him to us. Even if Mum tries to shut in both of us, like she said she would if anyone else died.

That's all I know. Our job rests with what Harry's job is.

I know that.

You aren't still bothered about being 'the sidekick' now, are you?

What do you think?

(Pause)

And about—us?

(Pause)

We'll just have to keep it a secret from the twins, don't we?

And Harry. He definitely can't find out.

Ron—he knows, too.

Then Ginny, at least. No one from my family.

Ron.

Oh.

We should follow him.

Yes. We should.


I considered a long-winded ending, complete with dramatic exclamations and confessions, (no not really) but I thought a short and bittersweet few minutes would be better. I've mostly stuck to canon, so the last should be canon as well.

Now. As a final author's note, I'll give in to my urge and explain that you should have noticed the repetition of Hermione saying "Ron" and Ron saying "I know." Thought you should have a bit of clarification, since my writing obviously wouldn't be overanalyzed as I'd like to think. Hermione is much shaken, but she is very relieved that she and Ron have finally worked things out. Ron is mostly confused, like usually is, but he isn't about to admit it.

They are still teenagers, hence the immature comments from Ron and the pretentious ones from Hermione. They are on a more equal level, because Ron has learned to stop acting like a fool just for the sake of it. He no longer seems four years younger than Hermione, which he did in the previous chapters when I was writing his dialogue.

I can't wait for book seven, mainly because of Harry but also because I know the relationships between the characters will take another turn and I'd love to see Rowling work with that.

That said—

FIN