Chapter 18: The Letters
Hermione gasped a shuttering breath, her shoulders shaking with tears as she eased open the lid of her trunk. She rummaged though layers of neatly folded cloaks and stacked books until she found what she was looking for. Giving a great pull from the depths of the trunk, the red and gold coloured package came free.
Hermione closed the lid as she rose to her feet. Holding the box gingerly in her hands she walked to the bed and sank down near the headboard. Swinging her feet up she leaned back against the heavy wood and hugged the box tight to her chest. Ron and Lavender? Her heart ached as the moment when Lavender threw her arms around Ron's neck and kissed him played over and over in her head like a broken real.
Sucking in her bottom lip, Hermione gnawed on it as she debated weather or not she really wanted to open the box. She ran her fingers lovingly over the foil wrapping. She was terrified of what she might find inside.
Although she knew that what ever was in the box would probably add to her torment, she couldn't help but feel curious as to what was inside. It was evident that Ron had taken time and effort to wrap the box. The cuts in the paper were precise and the golden bow was perfect. Calling upon every ounce of courage she had she slipped first the golden ribbon off the end and set it down neatly at her hip. Next she slid her finger under the fold in the foil paper and tenderly slit open the spello-tape seal.
When the paper was gone Hermione set the box on the bed and stared at it with interest. It was sealed seamlessly with no trace of where the lid had once been. It was perfect and she couldn't help but feel pride that her Ron had accomplished it.
Hermione wiped away the last of her tears as she searched for her wand, finding it on the floor where it had dropped from her hands. Giving her wand a wave and the proper counter spell, a lid formed at the top of the box. Setting her wand aside she slipped her fingers just underneath the lid. Preparing herself for the worst she slid off the cover.
Sitting at the very top of the box was a folded piece of parchment that had her name scribed on it in Ron's messy hand. She lifted the makeshift card out of the box and as she did a wizard picture fell from between the folds to land in her lap. She looked down to see her smiling face blinking up at her from over Ron's shoulder. They were both laughing as Ron in the picture spun around and around. She had never seen the picture before and wondered where Ron had gotten it. It was evident however that he had looked at it often. The picture had a warn look to it, the edges frayed and torn and yet it also had the charm of being one of those few well loved pictures. Finally looking away from the photo Hermione flipped open the card the picture had slipped out of and read;
Happy Christmas Mione. In this box is your present. I know it isn't much, but it's full of things I have collected over the years. Things that have always meant a great deal to me. You'll find explanations for anything I thought you might not understand. For instance, the picture you know hold in your hand. Harry took it last year before that night at the Ministry. Remember? I know you don't hold much store by your looks, but in that picture I hope you can see at least a little of the beauty I see when I look at you everyday. Happy Christmas, Your Ron.
Hermione stared at the card a moment longer before she set in gently aside and took the next item from the box. It was the day planner she had given him several Christmases ago. It was in perfect condition with not a blemish of ink or a single tear or a page folded out of place. Every item in the box was of similar nature. It seemed Ron had kept every note she had written him as well as every letter and every gift, each one perfectly preserved.
A steady stream of tears was slipping down her cheeks by the time she reached the bottom where she found, wrapped tightly in a neat bundle, every owl that she had sent back to him unopened from the past year.
She stared at the stack of letters, heart twisting painfully in her chest. Here was the physical proof of her stupidity. If she had answered one, just one of these letters Ron wouldn't have given up on her and he wouldn't be… Hermione closed her eyes on the painful thought…he wouldn't be with Lavender Brown.
Unsure if she was being wise she untied the bundle and removed the first letter resting patiently on the very top of the stack. She slid her finger under the seal, breaking the dried wax, and turned the parchment over to read what Ron had written.
Dear Hermione,
The letter began,
I am so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. I couldn't sleep last nigh because of it. I just lay in my bed and replayed our fight from yesterday over and over in my head. I don't know what happened. How could we have let things get that far? All I know is I didn't mean what I said. You believe me, don't you Hermione? I couldn't bear it if you didn't. Please forgive me. I don't know what I would do if I lost your friendship. Yours, Ron.
And the letter after that read,
Dear Hermione,
Pig came back today with my owl unopened. I guess I deserved that. I really am a ruddy git aren't I? But I really am sorry. I never meant to hurt you like that. Please Hermione. Do you think you could possibly find it in yourself to forgive me? Looking forward to your owl, Ron.
A few letters later she came across the one that must have been from September first, the night of the opening feast.
YOU'RE IN BULGARIA! He wrote fiercely. HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME? Do you know what it was like for me today? I couldn't wait to see you. I convinced myself that the reason why you hadn't answered any of my letters was because you were waiting to talk to me in person. Then I get here and I have to learn from Dumbledore at the same time as the rest of the school that you have left. Why didn't I get a letter too, Hermione? You were able to find the time to write to Harry and Ginny, why not to me?
Please Hermione. Please write to me. We have to end this. I miss you. Yours for always, Ron
Please Mione, I can't take this anymore. Why won't you answer my letters? Don't you think this has gone on long enough? I miss you Mione. I haven't talked to you in nearly two months. Things just aren't the same without you. There's no one here to tell me when I'm git, or when I'm doing something wrong. Please, I am so desperately sorry for what happened. You have no idea how sorry. I'll ask you again, if you can find it in within your heart to forgive me. Please, please write. I need to hear from you again.
I think you would be proud of me, Mione. I've been getting full marks on almost all of my work, even potions. I know I told you that last week, but since that letter came back…I…I thought I would try again. Well anyway, I really hope to hear from you soon, Ron
Mione,
The Halloween feast was last night. Everything was brilliant. The food was as good as ever, they had all my favourite dishes, and for a short time I was able to not think about you and just enjoy myself.
I heard tell that at Durmstrang they have a ball for Halloween. I hope that you were able to find someone to go with. I'd hate to think that you'd have to suffer through a ball or feast alone. Maybe some Bulgarian bloke who will pull out chairs and open doors for you.
Have you forgiven me yet Mione? This silence is killing me. I hate not knowing what is going on in your life, who your friends, what stupid facts your reading about in books. I miss having information forced in my head by you. For instance, did you know that according to Hogwarts: A History it is impossible to appearate or disapperate inside the castle grounds?
Please Mione. Please, please, please find it in your heart to forgive me. Every day I feel your absence like an empty belly. Anxiously awaiting your reply. Love, Ron
And the letters continued like that. Each one apologizing, each one asking for her forgiveness and each one becoming more desolate when he didn't receive a response. And probably most surprising, each one written from one friend to another with Ron writing what had happened that day to him and the others that she knew, keeping her well informed on what was going on in his life. Almost as if his feelings for her had never changed, never wavered. It was gut wrenching to read.
Finally she reached the last letter in the stack and as she opened it realized that it was much thicker then all the others. She pulled out several leafs of parchment, unfolded them with one hand as she whipped desperately at her leaking eyes with the other finding it nearly impossible to see other wise. Bowing her head she began to read;
My Dearest Mione,
Happy Christmas. There is so much I wish to tell you, and so much that I haven't said that I wish had. And I find this letter hard to write. I'm not very good with words and feelings, but you already knew that. It was you after all who told me I had the emotional range of a teaspoon. But as bad as I am with these two things, I have to do it. You see, I have to say goodbye. Because continuing to live like this is no longer an option. I have no will left to fight. And so I have to say goodbye or I don't think I ever will be able to.
You see Mione, I'm in love with you. I think I have been since the first time you came charging into Harry and my train car and demanded to know if we had seen a toad. You were as stunning then as you are now with your warm chocolate brown eyes and unruly hair. I've always loved your hair. Did you know that? I loved how you are the kind of person who has to keep everything in your life neat and orderly, everything except for your hair. How I've always longed to run my fingers through it. There were several times I think you almost caught me staring at you in class while I was imagining what it would be like.
I know I'm rambling, but I have to get everything said, even if you never read this. You see, how else am I suppose to get over my one and only?
Blimey, I can't believe I actually wrote that. If I thought for one moment that you were going to read this I might be worried that… as it is I should probably explain exactly what I mean.
In my family we believe in the One and Only. For generations Weasleys have been falling in love with one person and one person alone. Their 'One and Only'. For as long as we live we love once and we love completely. Most of us find the one at a young age. Though there are exceptions. Bill and Charlie, for an example, met their one and onlys later in life. Bill only recently found Fleur, there are rumours they will be marrying soon, and Charlie who technically did meet Sarah at Hogwarts but didn't realize it because she was a few years younger so he never really noticed her until she arrived in Romania to work at the Dragon camp with him. But if you look at the rest of us, we meet our one when we are young. My Great Grandparents Minnie and Henry met while at school, as did my Grandmum and Grandpop Weasley, mum and dad. Fred and George found there's at school, though they're still trying to deny it. Bloody idiots. They're mad for Katie and Angelina but aren't ready to give up their bachelor hood. I know Ginny thinks she's found her one and only, but for her sake I hope she's wrong. As for me, I really didn't understand what that meant until a few months ago when I lost my own. Or at least I think I did. I guess I'll never really know, will I?
I was a fool Mione. I should have told you long ago how I felt. It would have saved us so much pain. But I was scared. Because the truth is that I was never good enough for you. You are so beautiful, talented and smart. And what am I? I'm nothing. You deserve the world. You deserve someone like Victor Krum or Bjorn Ivailo. Blokes rich enough and classy enough to provide you with a life of leisure that you can devote to your books. I could never give that to you. I've known this for a long time and I've tried, I really have, not to fall in love with you. But how could I not?
But as I said, I have come to the realization that none of this really matters anymore. Even if I ever had the chance with you, I've lost it now. So I have to learn to let you go. I use to think that I was living up to my Gryffindor name by continuing to fight for you. That it was the brave and courageous thing to do. But I know now that it is far braver of me to try and live my life without you. Something I never thought I would have to do.
Honestly, it terrifies me to think that we'll never again do homework together, or that when you come to Quidditch matches you will only be cheering on Ginny and Harry, and not me. I hate the fact that the three of us will never go on another of our adventures. And Merlin help me, I'm even going to miss our fights.
Which brings us to another stupid act on my part. I use to pick fights with you deliberately. Did you know that? You're such an amazing witch, so bright and caring and focused. But when you get your mind on something you devote all you attention on it. And I wanted it on me, and I didn't care how I got. So I fought with you. And over time I did it because the fire and passion you showed when fighting was so beautiful I longed to see it. I guess it could be considered selfish, but I wanted the same devotion and one mindedness focused on me that you focused on S.P.E.W. A bit of irony isn't it? All this time I've been trying everything I could think of to get you to notice me and instead I drive you away.
Well, that's all that I really wanted to say, except…I'll never stop loving you, Mione. I'll love you from now until forever. I'll try to move on as you have done, but I want you to know that I will always be here for you and if ever you find it in your heart to forgive me I'll be waiting.
Goodbye my one and only. With all my love, Ronald Bilius Weasley
"Bilius." Hermione laughed with torment as she curled into a tight ball, her knees tucked up under her chin. Ron's middle name was Bilius. After five years of trying to worm it out of him, which was a more difficult task then it sounded, not even Ginny would tell for fear of Ron's wrath, he had finally confided it in her, as well as everything else in his heart.
She had had no idea. All this time she had thought Ron to be unemotional and thick and here she discovered that his emotions went far deeper then she could have imagined and he was really far more observant then she ever would have believed and put quiet a lot of thought into everything. She had heard Ginny speak of her One and Only many times of course, but had never realized that the rest of her family believed in it as well, let alone that Ron did.
She clutched his letter to her chest as guilt washed over her in angry waves. Harry was right. She never should have left without fixing things with Ron. Everything she had done since the beginning of summer holiday had been a mistake. Fighting with him, calling him those awful names, she understood now why Ron had called her what he did. How could she have been so callous as to call him a weasel and a pauper? She should never have run away, or try and convince herself that she was over him. Because of her actions she had lost the boy she had always wanted.
"Hermione." There was a gentle though persistent knock at her door. "Hermione, open up."
The heart broken girl pinched her eyes shut as she rolled away from the door. "Go away, Ester." Her voice croaked as her throat was soar from several hours worth of crying.
"Hermione!" her friend pounded more persistently at the door. "Open up. You've been in here for hours and you haven't gone to a meal since breakfast. What happened?"
"Leave me alone!" she cried at the door. Burying her head under her pillow she tried to wait out Ester's relentless pounding but found it to now avail. When she could not stand the unrelenting pulse a moment longer she flung the pillow off, threw her legs over the side of her bed and rushed at the door, throwing it open to reveal a face marred tear stains and blotchy skin. "What do you want?"
Ester lowered her hand slowly until it hung at her side. "Hermione, why have you been crying?"
Chin quivering Hermione spun around and strode back into the room leaving the door open for Ester to follow. The Bulgarian girl walked hesitantly into the room, closing the door behind her before setting a plate of food she was carrying on the table Hermione had placed near the door.
Hermione had settled in her desk chair, her arms wrapped protectively around her middle as she watched her friend stroll towards her bed. Ester stopped at the end and took in everything that was scattered across the duvet. She saw the red foil wrapping on the floor, the open box on the edge of the mattress, and the many gifts and parchment resting in a semicircle around the area where Hermione had sat. Ester lifted the note and picture that Hermione had read first to eye level. She read it quickly before studying the picture closely. "This really is a charming photo." She sat primly on the end of Hermione's bed, still studying the snapshot. "I can see why you love him." She glanced at Hermione over the picture. "He makes you happy."
Hermione blinked her lids rapidly as fresh tears swelled behind her eyes. She lowered her head as tears leaked from her eyes. "If you can so obviously see that, why couldn't I?"
Ester ignored her question and set the picture down. She scooped up a stack of parchment and started rifling through it. "Why did you open it now?"
Hermione sucked in her bottom lip, gnawing on it with her teeth. Taking a shuttering breath she groaned. "I saw him kissing another girl."
Ester's head snapped up in surprise. "You did?"
Hermione nodded brokenly as she picked up the mirror. "I saw it in this. I was going to tell him…but then I…I saw him kiss Lavender, and…I should have known I couldn't force myself to get over Ron Weasley." She bound to her feet and began restlessly pacing, arms still wrapped around her middle. "Damn that boy. Why? Why!" She flung her arms out as she spun around to face her friend. "Why do I have to be in love with such an insufferable…I can't even find the right word to call him."
Ester set down the parchment so that she could give Hermione her full attention. "So what are you going to do?"
"What can I do?" Hermione groaned. "He's moved on."
"So did you." Ester pointed out. "And look where that got you."
"Ester," Hermione picked up the sheaves of parchment Ester had set down and took their place. She handed them back over and instructed her friend to read them. By the time Ester reached the last page her eyes were wide and slightly misty.
"You see?" Hermione asked, taking the letter back. "He's moved on. It's over."
"What do you mean it's over?" Ester snatched the letter back. "Didn't you read the last paragraph?"
"Of course I did." Hermione stiffened as her friend continued to glare at her, affronted that her friend would think that her reading abilities were less then accurate.
"Well maybe you need to listen to it this time." Ester flipped to the last page and lifted the parchment before her eyes so that she could read it proper.
'Well, that's all that I really wanted to say, except…I'll never stop loving you, Mione. I'll love you from now until forever. I'll try to move on as you have done, but I want you to know that I will always be here for you and if ever you find it in your heart to forgive me I'll be waiting.
Goodbye my one and only. With all my love, Ronald Bilius Weasley'
Ester closed the letter smartly and held it in the air as she turned to face Hermione. "This does not sound like a letter written by someone who's gotten over you." She waved the parchment for emphasis. "In fact I'm farley positive he's madly in love with you. You don't get over love that quickly. You should know as well as I do. You've been trying to do it since you got here and it hasn't worked. He's been trying since what, Christmas? I don't think he would have succeeded that fast."
Hermione buried her head in her hands. "So what am I suppose to do? I'm here and he's there. I tried talking to him through the mirror and he nearly bit my head off. He's not exactly thrilled to hear from me. And I'm fairly certain that if I write a letter to him he'll send it back unopened. And serve me right if he did."
Ester tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips in thought while Hermione squirmed under her penetrating stare. Finally the Bulgarian girl nodded her head and rose to her feet, extending her hand to Hermione. "Then I guess there's only one thing left to do."
Hermione stared questioningly from her friend's proffered hand to her face. "What?" she asked skeptically.
"You have to go to him." Ester said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Hermione let out a sound of disbelief. "I can't just go to him. In case you haven't noticed, Bulgaria" she held up one hand "England." She held up the other. "Not exactly right next door. The only way to get there is by portkey and I doubt Zograf would make me one for something as frivolous as my love life."
Ester rolled her eyes. "Did you honestly think I was going to go to Zograf with this? Hermione, have you forgotten who you're friends with?"
"No." Hermione stared at her with bewilderment.
"Well obviously you have." Ester took hold of Hermione's hand and tugged her to her feet. "Now the first thing we have to do is find Bjorn."
"What?" Hermione snatched her hand away causing Ester to look back at her in surprise. "I can't go talk to Bjorn."
"Hermione," Ester took her friend's face firmly between her hands and forced her to look at her in the eyes. "Bjorn knows how to make portkeys."
"What?" Hermione gasped.
Ester sighed as she released Hermione's face. "You know that we as a group have this horrible tendency to learn spells and potions and other types of magic that we are not supposed to know." Hermione nodded. "It goes a bit farther then that I'm afraid. We all have something big besides. Yorick learned how to disapperate by fourth year. Maj can do Legilmency and Occumlemancy, though she hardly ever uses it. Her parent's used it on her all the time when she was younger so she learned how to do it to them. But you see she hated the intrusion so she refuses to do it on anyone besides her parents. Thora is the potion maker of the group. She's always on the look out for knew and exciting potions to brew. And Bjorn can do portkeys. He's really very good at them."
"But only fully trained wizards can make portkeys and everyone has to be authorized."
Ester rolled her eyes. "Hermione, this is Bulgaria. Things like portkey manufacturing and authorization or not nearly as closely watched here as they are in England. Here, anyone can make a portkey once they've been licensed. That way entire families can travel by portkey and it's much quicker and easier."
"And Bjorn's been licensed?"
"Well no, but…" Ester leaned in closer and lowered her voice. "no one really expects anyone inside the school to be able to do it. So they don't monitor it. We used to go on little excursions all the time. We made a trip to Germany once for the day. And we never got caught. So, if you really need to get back to England to talk to Ron, then he's one to talk to."
"But Ester, Bjorn's furious with me. What do you think the chances are that he is going to help me when I jut broke up with him? Especially considering what I need him for is to help me get back to England so that I can talk to another boy?"
"Leave Bjorn to me." Ester said with more confidence then Hermione deemed acceptable. "What you should be worrying about is what you're going to say to Ron when you see him."
