I Don't Know You Anymore
(Lyrics by Savage Garden)
Ron rocked on his heels nervously as he waited for Hermione to answer her door. With a quick look at his watch, probably the hundredth time in the last fifteen minutes, he hoped he didn't look as uncomfortable as he felt. But he had to see her.
Downstairs, he'd been let into the apartment complex that lay above a bakery by the tenant. She'd glared at him disapprovingly as he'd thanked her for opening the front door. He sighed. Even she knew what he'd done.
What they'd done, Ron reminded himself. He and Hermione had betrayed him in the cruelest way. He, Ron, had slept with his best friend's wife who was also his other best friend.
Beads of sweat formed on Ron's forehead as he waited. He could hear her moving about the apartment, coming to answer the door. She didn't know he was coming. An idea fled though Ron's mind. Maybe he should have called first… He shouldn't have come.
Before he could work out the actions to flee, she opened the door. Ron could feel his heart make the slight skip as it always did when he saw her. She was beautiful as she always was. But something was different. Ron couldn't put his finger quite on it.
"Hi, Hermione," he said in his deep voice, backing farther into the hallway.
Hermione smiled cautiously and crossed her arms over her faded sweatshirt. "Hello, Ron." She shook her head of chocolate curls, scratching the spot behind her left ear like she did when she was nervous. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I came to…just, well, talk. I should have called first…Sorry," he sputtered, trying to be calm and charming at once.
This made Hermione smile and she laughed a bit.
Ron could feel the blood seeping steadily into his ears. He hadn't heard that laugh in a long, long time. God, how he missed it.
"Come in, then," she said, stepping into the kitchen of her apartment.
He followed her inside, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. Ron knew it was wrong, but he watched her figure move into the sitting room out of the dining room and to the left. She wore that old sweatshirt she'd had since forever and a pair of jeans. Her feet were bare and for some reason, it made Ron even more self-conscious of what he was doing.
"So how's Harry?" he asked after they'd settled in the sitting room. On separate chairs, obviously. Ron remembered a time when they would sit together on the couch and hold each other until their breathing slowed and they would dream of each other. His voice seemed hollow and dead. The question felt obligatory, though he and Harry were still speaking to one another. And it was only an obligation. Ron knew perfectly well how Harry was.
Hermione bit her lip. She knew that after her affair with Ron, Harry had never quite forgiven them, though she and her husband had worked things out for the most part. "He's…fine. As good as can be expected at this point."
"Good, good." Ron squirmed in his seat. "Where is he, then?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "You know perfectly well where he is. Harry's on a business trip to the States with the Ministry."
Ron shrugged. He did know. That was the precise reason why he'd chosen this particular weekend to visit. "You caught me."
She crossed then uncrossed her arms, finally letting her hands rest on the slanted, smooth wooden arms of the chair. "Really, Ron. What are you doing here?"
He cleared his throat. "I just need to see you, that's all. Talk to you." Ron looked out the window at his right. Outside, the busy streets seemed to buzz with the energy he felt just in his pinky finger. "It's been a year, you know."
Hermione's face softened. "Yes, I know. A whole year. And Harry still doesn't trust me."
"Can you expect him to?"
She sighed. "No, I guess not. I can't blame him for hating me."
"He doesn't hate you, Hermione. You're still married, aren't you?"
Hermione looked out the window, stealing glances at Ron as she spoke. "Yes, he does. That's why he kept me close after…he found out. In his eyes, I'm the one who betrayed him. And I suppose he's right. I was—am—a married woman."
Ron sat up straighter. He wanted to touch her, comfort her. He could see the tears forming in her eyes, the guilt that consumed her. "Harry would never…"
"Be that vindictive?" she finished. "Yes, he would, Ron. Harry's changed. The whole thing, it changed him. I'm pretty sure he stayed with me only to spite me."
They were quite for a long time, thinking about what had happened, a whole year before. After that hot August morning, Ron and Hermione went to Harry and confessed. When they broke the news to him, that they'd had an affair and were breaking it off, he hadn't even gotten mad, blown up, nothing. He only said 'okay' and sat quietly for a while.
That's where Harry changed. His normal self would have been so angry, so explosive. But this seemed to shake everything normal from him.
The next day, Hermione woke and found her husband gone. Nothing taken, no clothes, no anything. After a week when Ron and Hermione would go look for him, Harry came back. He didn't say anything to Hermione at first, but continued to live life normally. They didn't speak of the affair for nearly three months. And when they did, Harry didn't show any emotion, but looked and sounded dead and hardened. That night, when Hermione went into the kitchen for a glass of water, she passed the sitting room where Harry now slept, and saw him weeping silently, his shoulders shaking madly. Hermione had wanted to go to him so bad, to wrap her arms around her husband, but she was scared of him, what he might do.
"You've changed the place," Ron commented casually, wanting to change the subject. That particular moment was not the best memory he had.
"Yeah. I thought it would cheer Harry up a bit."
"Did it work?"
"No."
But really, Ron thought. She had completely changed the place. Before it was warm and full and comfortable. Now, almost opposite. With new, sparse, aesthetic, modern furnishings, it seemed cold and empty. No wonder Harry didn't like it. And if he knew Hermione the way he thought he did, Ron didn't think Hermione did either.
And she was different, too. She didn't look at him the same way, didn't seem him as she used to. Harry was more important, now. All Ron was now was a memory.
Hermione sighed. "It was beautiful while it lasted, though." A faraway look flooded her tender eyes.
Ron looked at her, shocked she would speak so casually.
"Our affair. We had a beautiful little affair, Ron. You have to admit that."
He smiled again. "Yeah," he acknowledged. "Especially in the good times. Those are what I miss the most."
Hermione blushed. It was true. A part of her still longed for those good times, when a good man paid more attention to her than his job. And she was ashamed of herself for still wanting him.
From the kitchen, the pot of tea Hermione had put on began to sing.
In a moment Hermione was out of her chair, moving into the kitchen for the tea. She needed to clear her head for a moment. She needed to get control of herself. All though their conversation, Hermione had been thinking about him. How Ron smelled in the morning. The songs he hummed in the shower. But enough was enough. Hermione Granger was a smart witch who knew not to make the same mistake twice. Harry was her best friend and her husband. And a good guy. He didn't deserve what she did to him.
When she had gathered her thoughts, Hermione poured the tea and brought the two cups to the sitting room. When she handed him the tea, their hands brushed and Hermione almost dropped her tea.
As she stood so close to him, regaining her balance and waiting for the waves of tea to settle, Ron's hormones blasted inside him like a stereo turned all the way up. His free hand slid along the side her face, his fingertips brushing her hair. He kissed her.
When she kissed him back, Ron slid the teacup from her hand and placed both hers and his on the coffee table. Consumed in his longing for her, he stood and drew her closer to him.
When she regained herself, Hermione pulled away, gasping for breath. "Ron, I think you need to leave."
Ron's eyes swam with love and desire for the girl he held in his arms at last. "But it's been a whole year, 'Mione." He leaned closer to her. Whispered in her ear. "I still love you, you know."
Beginning to cry, Hermione rested her head against his chest. "I know how you feel, Ron. I know." She pulled away. "But it doesn't matter. I'm married to Harry now. I won't hurt him again."
He wiped the tears from her freckled cheeks.
"I can't. Not again."
Trembling, she led him to the front door. "We can't."
Ron let her to gently push him the apartment. He knew they couldn't have another chance. He knew it.
As she closed the door in his face, Ron could see her strong, capable eyes staring at him. He knew she would be okay. She was no longer vulnerable on the outside as she was before. The affair had changed her as much as it did Harry. She didn't need his protection.
"Good-bye, Hermione," he mumbled as he turned his back and walked out the way he came.
Hello, all. Another Savage Garden songfic. God, I love them so much. Such lovely lyrics. All lovey and nice. I hope ya'll like it. It's been such a nice break from my gargantuan term paper. Now that you've probably read it, REVIEW! Thanks kindly, buh-bye.