The Number

Disclaimer: OK, my first fic, so I'll be straight with you. I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does.

Ron sat staring up at the ceiling. He'd had a hard day at work and all he wanted was to eat, but his tea wasn't ready yet. He sighed and lay back on his bed, closing his eyes. At Hogwarts, he'd be stuffing his face with chicken by now.

"Adulthood sucks," he muttered to himself, trying not to think about the smell of shepherd's pie coming from downstairs.

He was going through a severe bout of depression - after losing contact with his best friends…

"No," he told himself, "Don't think about it. You've still got Ginny. She's your sister. She looks after you still, doesn't she? And your Mum. Yeah, Mum. She still loves you. And Dad, Bill, Fleur, Charlie, Fred and George. You've got loads of people to look out for you."

But his family just weren't his friends, and Ron slipped an inch further into the blackness of misery…

"I don't know what your problem is, Ron, but if you can't accept it, then I'm not sure I want you as my friend!"

"OK then, you'd better say what you want to me now, because I won't accept it!"

"Fine! Ronald Bilius Weasley, I don't ever want to see you again!"

Ever again. He thought it was a great idea at first. They were just about sick of each other. But, just recently, he had had another row. And this was the one that had lead to him lying on his bed in his parents' house…

"I've seen it before. You can't have it your way so you're not going to let it happen. Well, here's some news for you, Ron. It's my life and I can do what I want with it!"

"But you're my best friend, and she's - she's my sister!"

"I don't care if she's your mother, we're not letting you stand between us!"

"Fine then, don't! If you don't want me as your best friend any more, I won't be your best friend any more!"

It was awful. And that was the reason he was stuck sealing MOM owl post all day. If the rows had never happened he would be living in his own house with a wife. Maybe even a kid. Or two. But the rows had happened, and that wasn't ever going to. He was still living with his parents.

"Ron! Where are you?"

It was Ginny's voice calling up the stairs. Ron grinned, leapt off his bed and went out to meet her.

"Hi, Gin."

"Hello Ron. How was your day?"

"The same as usual, really. Rubbish. And you?"

"Mine was - well - come on. I have to tell you something. Come into my room."

Ron followed Ginny across the landing and into her bedroom. She sat on the bed and indicated that he should do the same.

"What's happened? It's something bad, isn't it?" Ron asked anxiously, an increasing feeling of dread rising inside him.

"No. I mean - well - I'm just not sure how you're going to take it, that's all." Ginny looked Ron in the eye, took a deep breath, and said, "I'm moving into Godric's Hollow with Harry."

Ron took a second to let the full effect of these words sink in.

"What?"

"I'm moving in with Harry."

"You can't move in with Harry…you live here, with me, and Mum, and Dad!"

"Well, now I live with Harry."

Ron didn't say anything for a few minutes.

"I don't suppose Harry wants to see me about this at all?" he finally murmured, "If he's - what was it - Not letting me stand between you?"

"Actually he told me not to tell you just yet, but you know how I feel about it. You have a right to know if your sister's moving away from you."

"Don't say that, it makes it sound worse."

"But he told me to give you this."

And she handed Ron a piece of parchment ripped from the bottom of a scroll:

PS: Give Ron this number. Tell him to ring it. He'll know who it is.

Below this there was a Muggle telephone number. Ron stared at it. It couldn't be Harry's. Then whose was it? Unless…

"Do you understand that?" Ginny asked him quietly.

"Yes. I think so. Can I borrow your mobile?"

"Sure. Just don't use up all my credit!"

"Thanks Gin." Ron gave his sister a hug before standing up and returning to his bedroom. He shut the door behind him, sat on the bed and dialled the number on the piece of paper.

He sat looking at it for a while. What was he going to say when he rang? They hadn't spoken for three years. Not since…

No. If he thought about that he wouldn't want to call. He needed to. Then maybe he'd be able to make up with Harry again. It would reshape his life, having his best friends back.

He pressed the 'Call' button, held the handset to his ear and listened to the ringing. It went on for what seemed like hours. Then -

"Good evening, Krum residence, Hermione speaking, how can I help?"

Ron gulped. He felt like he was going to throw up. What to say to her? Would she believe it was him? About a million questions raced through his head as he swallowed again.

"Who's speaking, please?"

He had to say something.

"It's - it's Ron. You know, Ron. Ron."

"Ro -? Oh my-" there was a pause, "What do you want?"

"Hermione, I - I - I love you."

And he ended the call, threw the mobile onto his bed and pushed his face into his hands…

Ginny peered round the door to see her brother sitting on the bed, his face in his hands. She'd worked out whose number he had called, and understood he really needed to be on his own for the time being. She didn't know what he'd said to Hermione, but she could tell he was upset about something. She crept away.

Ron didn't know how long he'd been sitting there. It could have been a few seconds, maybe minutes, or hours, or even days. He wasn't aware of anything around him. He was only brought to his senses when he heard the sound of footsteps thundering up the stairs. It would be Ginny, coming to see if he was OK. God, he was going to miss her. This new thought overcame him and he tried to bury his face even further into his palms, but to no real effect. Face-palm terms, he was still only humiliated, and slightly upset. Emotional terms, he was distraught, confused, and humiliated.

The door flung open and banged against the wall. Ginny must have some important news for him.

He felt the bed beside him creak and a pair of arms went around him. Ginny pressed herself to him, and Ron could hear her sobbing. She must know what had happened.

But - that wasn't Ginny's voice speaking…

"That's why you were so annoyed at me!" Hermione sobbed as she rocked him, "I'm really, really sorry, Ron, really! I can't believe I didn't see it coming, I'm so stupid! Ron, I love you so much!"

Ron opened his eyes and removed his hands from his face. There, hugging him so tightly he felt like he might die, was Hermione. She was crying hard, and when she saw his face she just gulped and cried harder, burying her face in his shoulder.

Ron didn't know what to do. An hour ago (courtesy of a quick glance at his watch) he had been fuming over his row with Hermione. Now here he was, in her arms while she confessed her feelings to him. And she was married. To Viktor Krum.

He slowly wrapped his arms around her and they sat on his bed while Hermione told him what had happened to her since he called.

"And then it just dawned on me, how much you'd been like this, why you fell out with me, how long you'd felt this way, and I realised that I didn't love Viktor at all - well, not compared to you, anyway!" Hermione burst into fresh floods as she re-positioned her face on Ron's shoulder.

Ron was desperately trying to stop himself crying all over her hair. She looked beautiful, even more lovely than when he'd first looked at her in that way. Even when her face was all wet and her eyes were sore. Though, admittedly, he hated seeing her like this. It felt inhuman.

'I suppose that's probably what love's all about,' he thought to himself. He couldn't stand it any more.

"How did you get here?" he asked her quietly. It was the first time he'd spoken since the phone call.

She raised her head.

"Floo powd-"

Ron had kissed her.