Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K.Rowling

Playing House

Chapter 8: Forgive and forget

After Ron left Hermione's house, he didn't care about the job, he didn't care the inspection he was in, he didn't care that damn DRM job, he went straight to the pub. He had done it again; once more he had ruined everything with Hermione. He congratulated himself mentally for being a wholesome idiot.

The pub was almost empty, only a couple of people in the corners, they were having their drinks mutely, looking miserable and looking lonely, everyone in his own thoughts. At the moment Ron felt himself just like them.

He moved to the bar like he always did, and perched on a high chair across the bartenter. The bartender, whom he had seen the last time he came, showed an acquaintance expression when he noticed Ron.

As Ron opened his mouth to order something, the bartender cut in, without rasing his whatever he was doing, in a throaty voice, "A firewhisky?" he demanded, "double?"

Ron was surprised but then "yeah," he said firmly. "Exactly," he said, eyeing the bartender suspiciously. The bartender nodded knowingly.

"It's always been same," he started slowly, as he poured down Ron's drink, as if he was talking to a friend that he had known for years, "always," he raised an eyebrow, "firewhisky," he handed the glass.

Ron stared at him in confusion. "What the hell is this man talking about?" he complained mentally. He had no mood to chat with a bartender however he sensed a strange knowledge in the man's voice and couldn't help but; "Really? But what for?" he asked trying to sound interested.

The bartender gave away a weak smile. He went back drying the glasses with a napkin and then slowly started to tell, "look at the people in here," he indicated with his head. Ron turned his head and gave a look around. He didn't see anything extraordinary except a man who had just fell asleep at the table, and in the corner a pair of men were discussing something feverishly.

Ron shot a look at bartender that said "what about?"

The bartender shook his head slowly before he continued. "These people," he said, "they always come for two obvious reasons," he stated and paused for a moment. Ron waited impatiently him to continue. "Either they had problems at work," he said, gesturing the couple in the corner, "or they had problems in love" he exclaimed. Ron's eyes widened.

"The people who has problem at work," the bartender contiuned slowly, "they visit here after work, and generally with accompany, to tell their problems, to criticize their bosses or collagues or whatever…" he waved a hand dismissively. Ron sipped his firewhisky, looking at him in interest.

"But the other part," he continued as he sent a michievios look at Ron. "Those people come here alone," he remarked with an implying tone. Ron shifted uncomfortably. "They think!" he raised an eyebrow. "And whole night they drink firewhisky until they make a decision!"

"Decision of what?" asked Ron promptly. The bartender smiled.

"As if it's fight for, or not?"

And with that, he went back to his work. For a long time, Ron thought what the man did just say. "What did he mean with fight for?" he wondered. But in his case, everything was very different. He didn't have something to fight for. Did he?

As if a coincidence, Ron stayed there whole night. And coincidencely enough, he made a decision. After that, he returned home at dawn, and collapsed into the bed and slept like a dead.

Next day was Saturday. He didn't wake up until the afternoon. The weather was rainy and tedious. He didn't know what to do. Aimlessly, he wandered inside the house. Besides, he had a pounding headache.

He didn't want to stay at house. The pictures on the easel, the door of the guest room, the package on the sofa, and even the chicken in the kitchen reminded him Hermione, and also how a jerk he had been. Harry was out of the city for a quidditch match. He wouldn't go to see Ginny; she would definitely figure out that there was a problem. Well, Hermione was out of the question.

He decided to go to the Burrow. He desparetely needed to see his mother.

When he arrived there he found his mother in the kitchen, as usual, she was cooking. When she saw him in front of her, she gave away a small squeal. Clearly, she was surprised to see him. Luckily for him, she didn't ask anything about it. His father was in the sitting room; he was reading the Daily Prophet in his favorite armchair. His face considerably lit up when he saw Ron. They were extremely glad to see him at home.

It was really tough for them, after a big crowded family, there were left just two of them at home. Except the big parties or celebrations, the Burrow was empty and silent contrary to the old days.

He had missed this house. He had visited his parents two weeks ago though, it was different. He had missed his home, the warmness, and the comfort of a home.

They had lunch together. They chatted merely, Ron told them about his job. He didn't mention about the DRM job, he didn't want to disappoint them later. Because he knew at the moment he hadn't any chance. After the meal, he spent time in his old room. Everything was same that he was glad.

Some time later, the rain ceased. He found his old broom in the closet and he took a fly around the Burrow in the wet weather. Strangely, it felt so good.

After a good, delicious dinner, at the end of the day, Ron reluctantly returned his house, promising his mother to visit them more often.

When he arrived the house he found an owl perched near the window, waiting for him. Thinking that it might be from Hermione, his heart gave an odd thump. However it wasn't Hermione's owl, it was from Robert.

Ron,

Tomorrow night the gang is going to gather. Meet Julie and me in the café next to the Ministry to discuss the particuliars.

Robert.

Job. That was what he needed to clear his mind.

Next day, he went to the café, and found Julie and Robert waiting for him. They made a quick plan and decided to make the raid that night.

At exactly nine o'clock, they found the house in the adress. The house, which looked like a muggle house, was at the end of a narrow lane. There was a light in the house and it looked likeit was crowded. Robert had estimated the amount of the people. To his consideration, there were six people in the house.

It was going to be diffuicult, Ron assumed.

They separated to the different places of the garden. Tentatively, Ron approached the house. They had planned to attack under cover, so that they could catch the murderer easily. They had decided to catch him off guard however they had to move off one by one. From what they could see, the group was gathered in the sitting room.

First, Ron was going to enter the house and Julie would guard him. Robert headed to the backyard to control if there had been a backdoor. They had to be silent since it was really important to be secured seeing that they were 3 to 6. Ron grabbed his wand to use Petrificus Totalus lest someone might come across.

In a minute, he reached at the doorknob. His heart started to race. He indicated Julie to follow him, but out of the blue, Julie's foot hit a tin can on the ground and made a big noise.

"Shite!" Ron murmured angrily. The voices coming from the house cut down at once. Julie grimaced. As he heard the footsteps, Ron darted forward and hid behind a big tree in the garden. Julie imitated him quickly.

Seconds later, a tall, dark man opened the house of the door and looked around curiously, his wand in his hand. As soon as he was sure that there was nobody, he turned on his heels to head back to the house alas he saw Robert coming from the backyard of the house, rapidly he pointed his wand at him.

Seeing that he had no choice, Ron emerged behind the tree quickly, pointing his wand at the back of the man and yelled 'petrificus totalus'

Before they could attack, the people in the house started to come out. There were five men. Once they saw Ron, one of them pointed his wand at him and yelled "avada-"

Before he could cast the hex, Ron hid behind the tree. The curses were flying in the air. Ron knew that he had to take the action. He noticed a man, who he assumed the murderer himself, was trying to flee. He sprinted behind him, however a tall, giant man saw him and pointed his wand. Thankfully Julie yelled 'expelliarmus' on time.

But the man who lost his wand unexpectedly grabbed a stone from the ground, and threw it across Ron.

"Watch out Ron," yelled Julie. Ron glanced at the man over the shoulder and the stone hit him on the head. He almost lost his balance, faltered for a moment, but before the murderer could escape he cast a petrificulus totalus charm at him. The man collapsed onto the floor.

After fifteen minutes' battle, they captured the whole gang alive. They were laying on the ground unconsciously. Ron started to collect their wands just in case.

"Ron are you okay?" asked Julie out of the breath.

"Yes," answered Ron however he felt a heat on his head. He touched his forehead, his hand covered with blood.

"You're bleeding," said Julie, looking worried.

"It's all right," said Ron dismissively. "Let's get them to the Ministry," he told and joined Robert who had been casting 'incarcerous' charm.

"Go to the St. Mungo's, Ron," advised Robert, grimacing once he noticed Ron's wound. "We can take care of them, I am going to ask for support now."

"No, it's not big deal," Ron opposed at once even though he could feel the blood leaking from his face.

"Don't object Ron," said Julie harshly. "At least you should go home, there is nothing left you can do," she explained. Robert nodded in agremeent. Ron hesitated for a moment but then "but are you sure you're okay with these?" he asked.

They replied him with a nod.

When he arrived home, it was almost eleven o'clock. He was in a mess. He felt exhausted and filthy but he didn't have the energy to have a shower. He didn't even change his bloody shirt. He found a tissue to suppress the blood. He lit up a candle and dropped himself on the sofa.

His eyes started to get shut, and he was about to fall asleep when he jerked with a big thump coming from the fireplace. He raised his head to see who had been visiting him at this time of the day. To his surprise, he saw Hermione stepped out. His heart did a somersault however he didn't move. Hermione didn't see him in the dim light; she wiped out the dust on her clothes.

Ron remained silent. Her eyes darted around and finally spotted Ron.

"Oh," she looked taken aback. "I didn't know you were at home," she said, without looking at him. "I- I just," she murmured, "I've just come to pick up my things," she said with indifference. Ron didn't speak, he stared at the ceiling determinedly.

Sensing that, there was something strange with his behaviour, Hermione finally looked at him.

"Oh Merlin," she gasped, placing her hand over her heart. "What happened to you Ron?" she asked with concern as she stepped close to him. She quickly kneeled in front of him, her eyes huge in terror. Ron swallowed hard.

"A stone," he murmured.

"Did you go St. Mungo's?" she asked worriedly.

"It's not important!" said Ron dejectedly, having a sigh. "Don't raise your hope," he told himself. "She just came to gather her things," he said to himself. "She is going to leave," he thought resentfully.

"Let me take a look, all right," Hermione said and turned his head gently. Their eyes met for a moment. She winced in compassion.

"We have to clear the blood," she declared as she perched the edge of the sofa, removing the tissue from Ron's forehead. She pointed her wandat the wound and murmured a charm that ceased the blood. Ultimately, Ron looked at her eyes. They stared at each other for a moment awkwardly. In the dim light of the candle, her eyes looked big and bright, and her skin looked creamy.

"I- we need some bandage," said Hermione after a moment. Ron shrugged. She went to look for a bandage and after a few moments she returned back, her hands full of stuff.

"It will hurt a little," she declared before she applied salvage on the wound.

"Oucch," bellowed Ron in agony.

"It did not that hurt," said Hermione with a reproachful tone. Ron gave her a resentful look.

Hermione smiled at his reaction. "Okay," she said sweetly, "let's finish it," she said and moved closer to stick the bandage. Ron held his breath; he felt his stomach had fallen out. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see her face went crimson.

Once she was done, Ron slumped back to the sofa.

"Umm, you should change your shirt Ron," Hermione suggested as she gathered the leftovers without making an eye contact.

"I am so tired to get one," Ron murmured, pursing his lips. Hermione sighed audibly.

"All right," she said. "I will bring it for you," she got to her feet slowly and headed to his bedroom.

Moments later, she headed back with a clean top in her hands, complaining and shaking her head in disapproval.

"For a moment, I thought I wouldn't find something clean," she said in an accusing voice. "Honestly Ron, your wardrobe in a mess, the cleans and the dirties are altogether, have you ever con-"

She stopped midsentence.

"Ron?" she called, frowning slightly. Ron didn't answer.

He had fallen asleep. Hermione rolled her eyes. She looked at him in sort of sympathy. She knew she had to be angry with him; he had ruined everything. However she couldn't leave him in that state. She sighed, her eyes flickering between the shirt and Ron.

AN: Thanks a bunch for your lovely reviews. They made my days:) Here is the chapter 8, I hope you like it as well. I am here, impatiently waiting for your feedback.