So excited to be back on this fic! I have been b-u-s-y and have tried to squeeze in as much writing as possible, so bear with me :)
Today is my birthday...just saying!
I am trying so hard to not post my other WIP, as I want to get this fic finished first, so hopefully I will get my butt in gear and finish this'n! HALFWAY YESSSSSSSSSSSSS!
Anyway, The next two chapters will probably be my personal favorites, so I hope you like them!
Thanks to my betas for their help! They are all lovely human beings! They also write Romione, so go check out their wondermous work! ArrayofColours , BlueGreenAndPurple , & Cheesyficwriter !
oOo
Day 4-
The next morning, Ron scraped his breakfast around, staring unseeing at the plate in front of him. For the first time in his life, his appetite was non-existent, and Hermione Granger was to blame.
He bit back the lump in his throat as he once again thought about her rejection last night. He'd finally told her the truth about how he felt, poured his heart out to her, begged her to let him help her, begged for her to be with him — but instead of taking him up on his offer, she'd told him that she couldn't see him again and ran away as fast as she could.
Watching her leave had crushed him, and he'd never felt more broken.
What hurt Ron the most, was that he knew Hermione had feelings for him. It was obvious, and she hadn't even tried to hide that she cared. But either her feelings were not as strong as his were, or she was fighting against them, because Ron would do anything to be with her, while she was willingly letting him go.
The previous night, after walking back to his room feeling numb, Ron had spent hours reading her journal, going over every word one by one, desperate to learn more about the inner workings of her heart and mind. He had gently run his fingers over the words written in her curvy and perfect handwriting, as if doing so would somehow make her materialize in front of him and tell him that she had changed her mind— that she did want to be with him.
However, Ron knew that the journal was the very last piece of her he would ever touch, even if he knew that he had to return it to her somehow. He didn't feel right keeping it, no matter how much he wanted to.
"I know it must be pretty damn bad if you're not eating," Harry said.
Ron glanced up at his best mate who was staring at him with a sympathetic look on his face. He had been so lost in his thoughts he'd forgotten that Harry was even next to him. Ron shrugged, trying to seem indifferent, but he knew he wasn't fooling Harry at all, so he dropped the act.
"I offered her everything, Harry. My whole life, but it wasn't enough."
Harry gave him a grim smile. "Ron, I really hate to tell you I told you so, but I will. I hoped that you wouldn't end up heartbroken like this, I warned you to keep your distance. Blokes like us — we just don't get women like her. Not that I want a woman like her...or any woman for that matter...but you know what I mean," Harry said as he shoved eggs into his mouth.
"Yep. The world is still in its proper place, with rich bastards like Malfoy getting everything and people like us getting nothing." Ron paused. "I didn't try hard enough Harry, I should have — I should have done something more. Then maybe she would have agreed."
Harry ran his hands down his face as he let out a heavy sigh. "I'm pretty sure that there's nothing you could have said or done, mate. You just need to forget about her, no matter how hard that is."
Ron scoffed. "Hard? Try bloody impossible. I love her, Harry."
Harry let out another sigh in defeat as Ron's thoughts went back to Hermione's journal. An idea popped into his head, and he jumped up from the table, his food left mostly untouched.
Harry eyed him warily, as if he already knew that Ron was up to something that he wasn't going to approve of. "Ron? What are yo—"
"One more try," Ron cut him off. "I can't give up that easily, Harry — not where Hermione is concerned. I have to try one more time."
Harry shook his head. "No, Ron. This can only end badly for you. You're only going to get even more hurt!"
"Gotta go. I'll be back later," Ron said as he took off, ignoring Harry's calls of protest from behind him.
He made it to their room, pulling Hermione's journal from under his pillow. He opened it to the very last page before digging a pencil out of his portfolio and started to write.
Hermione,
Last night, I read every single word of this journal... more than once. It was beautiful. I can't express to you how much I enjoyed it. You are smart, amazing, wonderful, intriguing, brilliant — you are everything, Hermione. Which is why I can't let you go unless I know that this is what you really want, and a part of me believes that it isn't. I don't know, maybe it is just me wanting you so bad that I'm making myself believe you feel the same, but I hope that isn't the case. I'm not ready for this to be over, and I can only hope that despite what you told me last night, you aren't either. I'm sorry that I sprung everything on you at once — I admit that I have never been the best at timing. But speaking of time, Hermione, we are running out of it. Once the ship arrives in New York, we will never see each other again...unless you change your mind. My offer still stands. I want you. I want you so bad that my heart aches from it. Nobody has ever affected me the way you have, and I know that no matter what happens, or who I may meet in the future, nobody ever will. It may not be worth much, but my heart is yours. If you give me the chance, I will take care of you. I will never let you down — I swear it. I'm sorry for last night... for this...for everything I'm sure you're going through right now. Hermione, if you feel even a fraction of the way I do, please meet me in my room so we can talk. I'll wait there all day.
Ron
Once he was satisfied, Ron closed the journal and walked out, heading to the first class coat closet. Thirty minutes later, he was once again wearing a long black coat and a top hat, hoping that he would go as unrecognized as he had before.
He walked around the first class areas of the ship, desperately searching for Hermione. Almost an hour later, Ron let out a breath of relief as he spotted her walking along the top deck amongst a group of other women, Malfoy nowhere in sight.
His heart pounding, he walked up behind the women before clearing his throat. "Miss?" he called out, causing all five of the women to turn and look his way, but his eyes were only on one of them. Hermione's brown eyes widened with recognition before her expression turned into what looked like fear, her eyes darting around before coming back to look at him.
"You dropped this back there," he told her, trying to keep his voice casual so as not to raise suspicion due to the others currently around.
He held out her journal in his hand, and at first, Hermione did nothing. Ron found himself holding his breath, wondering if she was even going to take it. Finally though, she seemed to break out of whatever trance she'd been in, and she stepped forward, taking it from him, her fingers brushing his and sending little shocks through him.
"Thank you," she responded, Ron hating the unfamiliarity with which she was talking to him. "That's very kind of you."
"I don't believe I have ever met you before," a woman's voice came from Ron's left, causing him to turn from Hermione to see her mum studying him with narrowed eyes.
"Sirius Black, Miss," Ron said without missing a beat, already prepared with an answer.
The woman nodded, and Ron couldn't help but wonder how this woman with that cold expression, who was so unlike the one he loved, could be the one who raised Hermione.
Knowing that he could say no more, and that his task was complete, Ron tipped his hat. "I hope you ladies have a wonderful afternoon," he told them as he smiled. "I must be off."
The group gave him their goodbyes before turning away from him and resumed walking in the opposite direction. Ron stood in place, willing Hermione to glance back at him. When she did, he mouthed the words 'open it', also miming the action of opening a book with his hands, hoping that she would catch on and read his note.
There was nothing else he could do. The ball was in her court now. With a small flame of hope in his chest, Ron hurried back to the coat closet to return the articles he had used.
He made it back to his room, relieved to find it empty, a flicker of guilt coming over him as he saw that Harry had taken his other set of clothes to wash again. Ron lay on his bed, mentally encouraging Hermione to come to him.
Only about fifteen minutes later, he heard a knock on the door. His heart soaring, Ron jumped up, opening it to see Hermione there, a hard look on her face that immediately made him feel uneasy. Without meeting his gaze, she pushed past him into the small room, and he closed the door behind her before turning around.
"Hermione! Mygod, I am so glad that you are here! I thought that you—"
"I told you last night Ron—we can't see each other anymore," she snapped, cutting him off, and Ron felt his heart sinking from both her words and her tone.
He gulped, not at all liking the look of determination in her eyes that told him she was serious. "No, Hermione —please don't—"
"I'm engaged, Ron. I'm going to be somebody elses wife."
Ron took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "He's an abusive piece of shit, Hermione, and you are going to get hurt."
She shook her head, still not looking at him, her face set. "We had a talk last night, Ron, and I'm positive that Draco won't hurt me if I behave. All I have to do is play my part, and I will be okay, I assure you. You don't have to worry about me."
Ron scoffed. "What a fucking life! You are setting yourself up for misery!" Her eyes finally went up to meet his. They were full of unshed tears, but she also looked furious. As she said nothing, Ron went on. "Even if he wasn't a ticking fucking time bomb, need I remind you of how we met? You're not bloody happy, Hermione! I want to make you happy."
"Happiness isn't everything, Ron!" she yelled shrilly. "This isn't a fairy tale! This is my life. I've always known how it would turn out, and I've come to terms with it. I will be fine, and you—"
"You're right!" Ron yelled, cutting her off. "This is your life, Hermione. And because it is your life, you should be in charge of it! You shouldn't be pushed into marrying someone you don't love! Who you don't even like! You're too strong for that! Where is that girl, Hermione? That girl who wrote all those beautiful words that I read last night? That girl wouldn't let someone else pull all the strings, that girl is a fighter. Show me that Hermione."
Ron could tell that the words had taken her by surprise, and she gaped up at him, her tears spilling from her eyes as she struggled to speak.
"You need to stay away from me," she whimpered before starting towards the door, but Ron gently grabbed onto her shoulders, stopping her.
"Please," he pleaded, the fight gone from him. "Don't go! I love you, Hermi—"
"Stop!" she ordered, bringing her hands up to her ears to block out his words. "I'm sorry, Ron, but this is over."
"Do you love me, Hermione?" Ron asked. "You told me that you felt it too! What did yo—"
"Stop!" she ordered again, her steely composure starting to ebb its way to panic.
He took a deep breath, knowing that his time was running out. "Please! Just give me a chance! Give us a chance!" he begged, no longer trying to hide the fact that he was doing so.
"You're poor!" she shrieked, her eyes manic. "You're not good enough for me, Ron! You never were! Leave me alone!"
Ron's mouth gaped open. He had, of course, voiced the same thoughts to himself, but hearing them come out of her mouth felt like she had just stuck an iron poker into his heart, and he couldn't formulate any words for a response. Before he could do anything else, Hermione passed him and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
oOo
Day 5-
"My dad's waiting for us in New York. He got the job and left a couple of months ago, but we stayed behind to 'tie up some loose ends', whatever that means. But now we are moving there too, and I can't wait to see our new place! Mum says that we can even get a dog!"
Ron chuckled, his eyes flitting between the boy and his drawing paper as he sketched. Since Hermione had left him alone in his room yesterday, he had taken to sketching any willing participant on the ship, desperate to occupy his mind.
Growing up the way that he had, Ron was used to disappointment and hardships, but Hermione's rejection had snapped something inside of him that he hadn't even known had existed.
All his life, Ron had dreamt of finding 'the one' — someone to love and spend his life with—someone who understood him, who would love him back and never let him down as so many others had.
Not once in any scenario had he considered the possibility that falling in love could be a bad thing. For the first time, love was not a positive concept, but a negative one. It was not the wonderful thing he had always imagined it to be. Instead, it was a horrible feeling in his chest that caused him pain with every inhale, and he wondered if it would ever go away.
"When we do, I want to name him Skip!" the kid went on, pulling Ron out of his thoughts, "Do you think that's a good name for a dog?"
Ron smudged the paper with his fingers one last time. "I think it's an excellent name for a dog," he responded with a smile. He took the sketch, and carefully handed it to the eager boy.
"Wow! It looks just like me!" the kid said in an incredulous voice.
Ron smiled. "On the house, mate. Hang it in your new room — and show Skip too."
The boy giggled, still staring at the sketch in his hand, when a shadow fell over his small figure. He looked up, smiling as he did so. "Aunt Minnie! Look at this!" The boy handed the sketch to a stern looking woman in a nice dress, her eyebrows knit in curiosity. Once the sketch was in her hands, her eyes widened.
"This is spectacular. Did you do this?" she asked, turning to Ron.
Ron nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I was lonely and Dennis here has kept me entertained. He's quite the kid."
The woman looked down at the boy, who was now playing with his Jacks and ball game, no longer paying attention to the adults. "That he certainly is," she agreed with a small smile. "May I ask your name?"
"Ron Weasley," he answered.
"Nice to meet you, Ron Weasley," the woman responded. "It was very kind of you to draw my nephew. Please let me pay you," she said as she started to unclasp a small purse that she was carrying.
"No, no!" Ron hurried. "Please don't. It's a gift, I insist."
The woman took a deep breath, and for a second, it looked like she was going to argue with him, but she didn't, instead, giving Ron what looked to be a genuine smile. "Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Weasley. Have a lovely evening."
Ron returned her smile. The woman called Dennis, and they left together, leaving Ron alone with his thoughts once again.
All day, the whole ship had been buzzing about the big event that was going to be happening in first class later that night. The Malfoys were going to be honoured at dinner, followed by what was supposed to be an extravagant affair for all invited — only the best people on the ship, of course.
Ron tried not to think about Hermione smiling and acting proud of her fiance like a dutiful little bride. He wondered what she would be wearing, and how she would have her hair done. He knew that her mother didn't like her curls loose, so they would surely be up, but Ron imagined her hair to be down — the way he liked it best — the way it had been that night they had danced, before everything had gone to hell.
He sighed, deciding to start sketching a family of three that were standing in front of him looking out at the water. The wind blew his hair around, and he fought the tears threatening to escape his eyes.
Hermione had been right of course, Ron didn't have anything to offer her, and no, he didn't deserve her. But it also wasn't that easy was it? He may not deserve her, but Draco fucking Malfoy didn't deserve her either. No amount of money could make him worthy of her, and if she married him, Hermione was going to be as trapped as a caged animal. Everything in Ron wanted to help her, but how could he do so if she was refusing his help?
Had Hermione really chosen money over love? He didn't think that she would be the type, but she had done so. A little voice inside told him that there was more to this— there had to be — but he pushed it aside, knowing that he would just drive himself mad if he tried to figure it out.
Ron put the drawing paper away and shut his portfolio, no longer able to concentrate on sketching. He ran his hands down his face before standing up. He headed to the third class dining area, grateful that nobody he knew was there, and ate a quick meal before leaving, not in the mood to talk to anyone.
Ron's brain told him no, but his heart didn't listen, his feet leading him towards the place where he knew 'the event' was currently happening. He didn't even bother stopping to put on a disguise, no longer worried about being caught. Besides, he wasn't planning on doing anything that he wasn't supposed to — he just wanted to see her one last time.
Once in the first class part of the ship, the noise led Ron towards two grand wooden doors with large glass windows. It seemed that everybody was at the party, as nobody was out securing the entrance. Stealing one last glance behind him to make sure that nobody was there, Ron walked closer to peek inside.
Everyone was sitting down at their tables, their eyes on the stage at the far end of the room. All three of the Malfoys were standing up there, and Ron's fists clenched at his sides at the sight of the man who would marry Hermione — who would marry the woman that he was in love with. The older Malfoy, Lucius, he believed his name was, was making some sort of a speech, but Ron couldn't — nor did he care to —hear what the man was saying.
His eyes left the stage to scan the entirety of the room, searching for who he had gone there to see in the first place. He found Hermione quickly, a painful breath leaving his lungs at the relief, hurt, and longing he felt at the sight of her. She was sitting rigid in her chair, a smile that he could tell was fake plastered on her face as she, too, watched the stage. Ron hadn't been prepared for the heartbreak he would feel just by allowing himself to see her again, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to stay there for very long, as it was killing him to see what he couldn't have.
When the Malfoys left the stage to the sound of thunderous applause, Ron noticed that although Hermione was clapping, it was not as enthusiastic as everyone else, including her mother who was applauding as if whatever she had just heard was the best news in the world.
When Malfoy reached the table and sat down next to Hermione, Ron watched as she leaned over and whispered something into his ear. At her action, Ron saw red, and immediately turned his head away, not able to stand the sight. He moved to the side and rested his head against the wall, closing his eyes and willing his heart to slow down before he did something crazy like storm into the room and punch the blonde sonofabitch.
Once he felt composed enough, Ron turned to leave, unwilling to torture himself further, when he heard the door start to open. He knew that there was no use in escaping the sight of whoever was coming out, so he started to hurry away, hoping not to garner any attention. He stopped in his tracks, however, when he heard a gasp come from behind him.
"Ron?"
He turned slowly, meeting Hermione's gaze. Her eyes were wide, and her body seemed to be frozen in shock as she stared at him.
"Hermione," he breathed, his chest tightening in pain at the sight of her.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, but to his surprise, her tone wasn't angry at all — just concerned.
"I'm so sorry," he said in a quiet voice. "I wasn't trying to talk to you again, Hermione, I swear it. You've made it perfectly clear what you've chosen, and I respect you enough to stop trying to make you change your mind." He paused. "The honest truth is that I just wanted to see you again — even if from a distance — to pretend that I have any right to do so."
Tears filled Hermione's eyes, but she hastily wiped them away. "We have to go. Now. We cannot be seen." To his astonishment, she took his hand that wasn't holding his portfolio and started dragging him towards where he knew the first class suites to be, and he followed willingly, not needing to be told twice.
She led him to what he assumed was her suite, opening the door to a room that was far fancier than any place he'd ever been before, and Ron couldn't help but look around in awe. Once they were inside, Hermione closed and locked the door behind her, her body sagging against it once she was done.
Ron could see her body shaking, and he didn't dare say anything or make a move, knowing that she had to be the one to do so.
"I was sitting there, and—" she started in a quiet voice, pausing to take a shaky breath. "All of these people were getting onstage, and talking about what a great person Draco is, even though they don't even really know him other than from a business standpoint."
Hermione turned around to face him fully. "People like Draco — people like him always get what they want." Ron took a step forward and swept a stray curl from her face, nodding for her to continue. "It was making me feel sick, Ron. I could hardly stand it." She shook her head. "I don't want that life. I can't — I can't just bow down to him like everyone else does. I may not have a lot of control when it comes to what he gets, but I won't allow him to have me."
Letting out the breath he hadn't even been aware he'd been holding, Ron dropped his portfolio and grabbed her, pulling her to him and holding her tight.
"He threatened you," she cried into his chest. "He threatened to have you killed if I saw you again. I had—I had to try to stay away from you, Ron. I tried, I tried so hard."
"Shhh," he soothed, running his hands up and down her back. "It's okay."
She stepped back away from him, and he took in her tear stained face as she shook her head. "No! It's not okay. You don't know him, Ron. You didn't see the way he looked when he threatened your life. He will have you killed like it's nothing, and it will be all my fault! He would never stand to lose me to someone like you."
Ron knew what she meant, and he wasn't offended by her words. He took her face in his hands. "I know. We'll figure this out, okay? It won't be simple, but we'll figure it out. I love you, Hermione. I've never been more certain of anything in my life. Regardless of what you may feel — it's the truth...it's my truth."
Hermione again grabbed his hand and led him to the sofa where they both sat down. She held his hand in her lap, eying them as she traced his palm with her fingers. "I love you too, Ron," she said softly. "As crazy as it sounds, I think that I've loved you since the very first time we met."
Ron opened his mouth to respond, but Hermione placed her fingers over his lips, stopping him. "I've met hundreds of people. I've been to the most elaborate parties, been introduced to the richest, and the most sought after people around, yet I have never met anyone like you, not even close." Ron ran his hand up the side of her shoulder, going higher before settling it on the side of her neck, delighting in the way that the action caused her to shiver as she continued talking. "I didn't even know that there was more to life than what I was living other than in the books that I read. But now that I know you, Ron, I can't go back. I need you."
Ron was unable to stop himself as his body leaned forwards, capturing her lips with his. Everything that he had done in his life thus far paled considerably to what he was doing right now. Her lips were warm and soft, and they tasted incredibly sweet. His hand on her neck crept further up into her hair, pulling her even closer as she let out a small whimper of pleasure when he deepened the kiss.
The glorious moment was broken though by a heavy pounding on the locked door. Ron watched Hermione's eyes widen, and she looked terrified. "Hide," she demanded in a whisper, gesturing to a door to the far right. "My mother's room. Go, now."
Ron immediately complied, running to grab his portfolio before quickly making his way to Hermione's mother's room. Just before he closed the door behind him, he looked over at Hermione, whose face was considerably pale. He gave her a small smile and nod of reassurance before he closed the door with a click. Once in, he put his ear to the door, listening. He heard Hermione undo the lock, and someone with heavy footsteps walked into the room.
"What do you need, Zabini?" Ron heard Hermione ask in a cool voice.
"Mr. Malfoy has asked me to check up on you. To make sure that you are not sneaking around with that man from third class."
"As if I would bring anyone to our suite!" Hermione said shrilly, sounding highly offended at the idea, and Ron couldn't help but grin.
It seemed as if the man wasn't convinced though, as Ron heard him start to stomp around while Hermione continued to berate him as if the idea of anyone but her being in the suite was ludicrous. Ron heard doors being opened, and he walked over to a rather large wardrobe and squeezed inside behind the large amount of fancy dresses. Just as he was settled, he heard the door open and heavy footsteps walk into the room, followed by Hermione's annoyed voice.
"My mother will be most displeased that you are entering her room! She is very particular about her possesions," she said sternly, but Ron could hear the panic in her voice.
Her words seemed to give the man pause. "Why did you leave dinner early?" he demanded of her. "You know how important tonight is for the Malfoy's."
"I will tell you the same thing that I told Draco earlier. I have a migraine, and I wanted to come back and get to bed early. He told me that it was okay, so I don't understand why you are here or why he felt the need to check up on me."
"He is concerned that you are still sneaking around behind his back," the man replied. "He wants to make sure that you are behaving as you are expected to."
"I am done with that peasant, and Draco knows this! Why on earth would I continue to see that scum when I am engaged to a Malfoy? Honestly, it was a horrible lapse of judgement on my part, and I am extremely embarrassed about it. The sea must've gotten to my head or something, and I regret it wholeheartedly!"
The man didn't say anything for several long seconds, but Ron heard him let out a breath. "Very well then. Mr Malfoy expects to see you first thing tomorrow morning."
"Of course," Hermione said in a relieved voice. "I'm looking forward to it."
Ron heard both of them walk out and the door shut behind them. He counted to ten before stepping out of the wardrobe. Seconds later, the bedroom door flew open, and Hermione was throwing herself into his arms, her whole body violently trembling.
"It's okay, Hermione," Ron soothed, trying to calm her. "He didn't find me. He doesn't know."
"He would—he would have killed you if he had—" she choked, releasing a sob before continuing. "I just know it! The look in his eyes...he was out for blood, Ron, and he was — he was disappointed when he didn't find it."
"Listen," he said, gripping Hermione's shoulders and peeling her away from him to look at her. "I'm fine."
His words caused her to burst into tears, and he again pulled her close, swaying her. "I cant — I can't lose you Ron."
"You won't," he said in an unwavering voice, vowing it to be the truth.
"That was so close — too close. I shouldn't have brought you here. I thought it was safe but—" she pulled away, taking his hand. "My room locks from the inside, and Draco doesn't have a key. I think Zabini will reassure him that I wasn't up to anything...and I know he won't leave his precious party to come check on me himself."
"What about your mother?" Ron asked.
She shook her head. "Even if she were to catch us red-handed in my bed, there is no way that she would tell him. She wouldn't jeopardize this wedding."
Ron noticed that her cheeks went red at her words about them being caught in her bed together.
He grasped the sides of her face and gave her a soft kiss. "I hate that our first kiss was interrupted by that asshole," he said, his lips still touching hers.
"There will be many many more that won't be interrupted," Hermione answered, her eyes still closed.
He grinned as his thumb swept over her cheek. "You promise?"
She opened her eyes to look into his own. "Yes, I do."
