For Sab!
Word Count: 1459
Warnings: dabbling with a bit of divorce
Today is a good day. Sometimes, since Hermione uttered those heartbreaking words, I want a divorce, it's hard for Ron to get out of bed, but he does it anyway. Maybe both of his kids are grown, but he wants to set a good example.
Today, he gets out of bed with ease, dresses and grooms himself, before fixing a quick breakfast of eggs and toast. There's a hint of a smile on his lips as he bites into the eggs, which are a little more overcooked than he'd like. He really has come a long way. Hermione used to tease him affectionately, claiming he could probably set water on fire. Ron has never been much of a cook, no matter how much anyone tried to teach him. Now, he can at least cook some basic foods. It isn't much, but he's still proud of himself.
An owl glides into the kitchen, dropping a letter on the table, only inches from his food. Ron scowls at the bird, but he isn't really bitter. He still gives it a treat before bidding it farewell.
Alone, with only a lone tawny feather as a reminder of the bird's company, Ron plucks the envelope from the table, his heart racing when he recognizes Hermione's elegant cursive writing on the front. He's never given his name much thought, but he's always thought it sounded pretty when she said it, and looked beautiful in her handwriting.
He doesn't know whether to be happy or anxious about the letter. The two of them aren't angry at one another; through their separation, they've fallen back to behaving as friends, though in a better way than when they were kids since both have done a lot of growing since the days of their youth. Even so, he can't help but worry that the letter contains the worst possible news, though he isn't even sure what that news would be.
His hands tremble a little more than he'd like, but swallows down his nerves and opens it.
Ronald,
I hope this letter finds you well. I know we haven't spoken much lately, at least not privately, but I have noticed you look well. Your smile looks really nice, and Rose says the two of you have started having weekly walks through the park every Sunday. It sounds nice.
I hope you will forgive me for writing this. I'm sure I've broken your heart, and I am probably the last person you want to hear from. I hope that isn't the case. We have been getting along swimmingly, but I hope you aren't simply tolerating me for the kids' sake.
Ron sets the letter down for a second, shaking his head. Could she really and truly think he's just tolerating her? Despite all the things that have changed about him, that isn't one of them. He has never had any problem telling anyone, regardless of how close they are to him, how he feels. He's almost offended by her implication, but he shakes it off. They're both going through a lot these last two months, and he knows perfectly well how easy it is to get stuck in your own head. Maybe he has a habit of putting her on a pedestal, but Hermione is still human with human feelings.
You're probably wondering why I'm writing to you. If I'm honest, I'm not completely sure myself. I've had a lot of time to think over these last few months, and I'm conflicted. I don't want to write it all down because I feel some things are better said in person. I'm not sure if you remember the Manchester Art Gallery. We took the kids there one year. Hugo was bored to death (like father, like son, I suppose!), but Rose loved every minute of it. I would like to meet you there, if you don't mind. I'll be there this Saturday at two in the afternoon. If you don't want to come, I understand.
All my best,
Hermione
Ron holds the letter to his chest and takes a deep breath. It's the first shred of hope he's had in what feels like ages. He knows what he has to do, and he will happily do it.
…
"Dad!" Rose rolls her eyes and huffs. It's good to know that some things never change, and she is still so full of sass, even at twenty-one. "You're being ridiculous. Who cares what shirt you wear?"
Hugo shakes his head and fixes his older sister with an exasperated look. "And I'm sure if you were meeting Scorpius, you'd just throw on any old thing," he points out.
Ron resists the urge to laugh. Hugo sounds so much like Hermione most of the time. It's endearing and more than a little amusing. Rose, on the other hand, reminds him of Ginny in so many ways. It isn't surprising since his sister is her favorite aunt (not that Rose will ever admit it).
"Yeah, well, that's different. Scorpius and I are dating!" She offers Ron an apologetic look. "No offense, Dad."
"That hurts, Rosie," Ron replies, holding his hand over his heart for exaggerated emphasis.
She snorts. "You'll be fine. But if you insist on being so extra…"
Ron smiles as Rose and Hugo bicker over which shirt is best for him to wear. When he'd told his kids their mother wanted to meet with him, they had been excited enough. It's nice to know that even when Rita Skeeter starts rumors that make the wizarding world question the stability of his marriage to Hermione, he has two people cheering him on and sincerely hoping for the best.
"It's… purple," Ron says hesitantly as Hugo hands him the button-up shirt.
"It's periwinkle," Rose corrects.
"Which is definitely on the purple spectrum, Captain Literal," Hugo groans.
"Bite me."
"Gross. Then I'd get your germs. They'd have to amputate my jaw at St. Mungo's."
Rose scowls at her brother. "Good. Then you'd finally stop talking."
"Can you two get along for five minutes?" Ron asks, shaking his head in amusement.
"I can. Hugo can't."
"Periwinkle, it is, then."
…
Ron has only felt this nervous twice in his life: before his first official date with Hermione (since the war caused them to do things a little backwards, and they had their big, dramatic kiss before actually going on a proper date), and as he watched Hermione walk down the aisle, all dressed in white.
He takes a deep breath, but it does nothing to steady his nerves.
"That color looks nice on you."
There's that voice that never fails to give him butterflies. Ron turns, his cheeks heating with a soft blush. Hermione looks as lovely as ever, and it almost hurts to see her now.
"Rose and Hugo picked it out," he tells her.
She laughs. "They did a good job with it."
Silence hangs between them. There are so many things Ron wants to say to her, but he doesn't even know where to begin.
"I've been thinking," she says after several moments pass, and he's relieved for the tension to break. "I love you, Ron. Present tense, not past."
Those are words he's longed to hear, words that mean more to him than anything else.
"We're not perfect. Sometimes I'm not sure we fit together at all."
"Oh." Ron hangs his head. Is this it? Is this why she asked him? So she can make her decision final? Because doing it face-to-face is somehow kinder? "I see…"
"That's only sometimes. We can only do the best we can," she tells him. "I think I lost sight of that. I projected my expectations onto you. I'm sorry."
Ron shakes his head. He understands. He knows she has her reasons, even if he doesn't always agree with them. "Doesn't matter. You did what you thought was right."
She takes his hand, her thumb brushing gently over his knuckles. "What if I was wrong?"
"Impossible. Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age? Wrong?" he asks, his tone light and playful.
Hermione narrows her eyes, playfully knocking her shoulder against his arm. "Watch it, you."
"Or what?" he challenges, smirking.
Instead of answering, she leans against him. "Can we start over? I don't want a divorce. I want to keep trying with you," she says softly. "I want you, Ronald. Not someone like you. Not just anyone to fill the void you've left. You."
Ron turns toward her, pulling her close and kissing her softly on the lips. "I'd love that."
He thought this whole divorce process would be the end of him. Now, he sees a chance for a bright, happy future with a healthier marriage. Everything, he thinks, will be okay in the end.
