AN: Happy Saturday, or at least, I hope it's good for you. It's not going so great for Ron and Hermione, but I hope that eventually you'll forgive me. Please let me know if you enjoy this chapter, I love every comment I get!

And if you're looking for more great stories, please check out my betas Adenei9, be11atrixthestrange, cheesyficwriter, smjl and quicklsilverfox. They're AMAZING!

Have a great rest of the weekend x

After letting his mum get under his skin, Ron pays a visit to Hermione.

The mechanics of starting the car feel strange to Ron, despite the fact he's been driving the same rustbucket vehicle for the past five years. Still, his body goes through the motions, his heavy limbs feeling as if they belong to someone else and not him. He's an alien, about to ruin the best thing that's happened to him since Hugo came into his life. His heart is protesting it, even though his mind knows that it's the right thing to do.

Although Ron and Hermione have never discussed where she lives, and they've only spent time together at his, it's easy enough for him to work out where to find her. Living in a small village means there are limited options as to where she could be. Fortunately (or unfortunately, in his case), there is only one apartment block in Ottery St. Catchpole. The building used to be an old fire station, and all the busybodies in the village held a massive protest when the council proposed that the building be converted into flats.

But money always wins, and the area was in dire need of development before it fell into complete ruin. Now, green gardens surround the complex, as well as a collection of coffee shops, gyms and even a bar. If he were young, free and single, it's the kind of place Ron would really like to live.

As he drives, there's a fleeting worry that Ron should have rung ahead, but he knows that as soon as he hears Hermione's voice, it'll be too hard to commit to breaking things off with her. He only hopes she's home alone and that he's not going to be interrupting something. They've barely texted today, an agreement they made so he could concentrate on spending time with his family. But he was planning on calling her later once he got home.

All of a sudden, Ron pulls up outside the apartment building. The journey was far too short and didn't provide him with the thinking time he relied on to arrange his thoughts and work out exactly what to say to Hermione.

Removing his key from the ignition, he checks his appearance in the rear-view mirror. He looks as awful as he feels.

There is no point in putting off the inevitable anymore. Ron always tells Hugo that it's easier to rip the plaster off in one go rather than peeling it off inch by inch, and it's time he starts living by the rules he gives the kid. He steps out of the car, ignoring the churn of nerves in his stomach as he crosses the short pavement and approaches the entrance to the building. The smell of coffee hits him as he draws near, although it's not as pleasant as it usually is. The bitter tinge of the scent adds to his nausea, and Ron worries that he might be sick.

As he suspects, the front door is locked to visitors, but on the left-hand side of the wooden entranceway is a console with a list of flat numbers and individual buttons. Although most of the names on the list are blank, halfway down next to the printed 3A, Hermione has written her name neatly. The sight of it brings a small smile to Ron's face. Although he hasn't known her for long, the looping letters are so unequivocally her, especially since most other residents haven't bothered.

Ron's hand trembles as he reaches out and presses the buzzer, the noise abrasive and loud, a stark contrast to the long silence that follows it.

Maybe she has gone out for the day? Or perhaps she's seen his approach and doesn't want to see him, knowing that his presence at her home surely means bad news. He's about to give up, to hurry back to his car and pretend this moment of madness never really happened, but then a chime responds.

"Hello?"

The gentle sound of her voice sends a flurry of butterflies through his heart and causes a stirring deep in his belly. It reminds him of how she sounded as they said good morning to each other while lying naked in his bed yesterday. Maybe she's been napping, although Hermione doesn't seem like the kind of person who sleeps during the day. He tries his best to push away the pleasant sensations it's causing so that they don't distract him.

Clearing his throat, Ron replies, "Hey, it's me."

"Ron? What are you doing here?"

"Can I come up?"

"Yes, sure. Of course, you can. I'll buzz you in now."

There's nothing like a few flights of stairs to make a man feel unfit. By the time Ron reaches the third floor, he's already out of breath and making internal vows to start visiting the gym more than his current sporadic routine. Hermione is waiting at her front door for him, a massive smile on her face.

"Did you miss me so much that you had to skip out of family dinner to come and see me?" she teases, opening her arms out wide for him.

Stepping into them with ease, Ron rests his head down on her shoulder. She envelopes him, one hand moving to rub his back whilst the other drifts down to his backside, giving him a firm squeeze. The hug brings him no comfort. It just makes him feel worse. Still, he's keen to make the most of their last embrace.

He takes a deep breath, trying to ingrain the scent of roses and vanilla in his mind. "I was with my parents, and we've been talking about some things, which led to me needing to see you."

"That sounds ominous." She lowers her lips to the tip of his ear, kissing along it. "Where's Hugo? Do you have long?"

Ron suppresses a moan and pushes his head away from her. He longs to get lost in her kisses, to pull her into whichever room he suspects is her bedroom and spend the rest of the afternoon and well into the night exploring her body, and to continue getting to know her. But there's absolutely no way he could do that and then break up with her.

He's not that kind of guy.

"I don't have long at all, sorry. My mum is keeping an eye on Hugo, but I do need to get back soon. I just have to speak to you first."

At his words, Hermione lets go of him. "Why do I have the feeling something bad is about to happen?"

"Can we sit down?"

Hermione's fingers slide between his own, with a touch so gentle and careful, it makes Ron feel even worse for what he's about to do. He waits for her to shut the door, then follows her down the hallway.

The first thing Ron notices as he steps into the room is how modern and new everything looks. The walls are bare, aside from a large television opposite the grey sofa, and the whole place looks barely lived in. Wide french doors open up to a tiny balcony, providing the apartment with a view of the village and the countryside beyond. It is nice, but the flat does not indicate Hermione's true personality. There are no photos, and apart from a haphazard pile of books on the coffee table, the place is far too neat and tidy.

As if she can read his mind, Hermione speaks up, "Yeah, it's still a bit new here. I keep meaning to go shopping, buy some more furniture and some decoration, but I just can't summon the energy. Most of my time is spent either at school or exploring the area. Or with you now." She laughs. "So I'm hardly here anyway."

"I didn't say anything." Ron slips his hand out of hers and perches at the furthest end of the sofa. He winces as Hermione settles next to him straight away.

"You didn't have to. You show all of your emotions on your face."

"I do not," he replies, now painfully aware of the giant scowl that crosses his face.

She sinks back into the sofa with a small laugh. Ron hates that he's proved her right and would love nothing more than to argue back with her, but he's distracted when her hand slides under the material of his t-shirt, fingers dancing along the multitude of freckles Hermione was delighted to discover the other night. A shiver of pleasure travels up Ron's spine, and he scrunches his eyes shut to stop the giddy rush of joy he feels at her touch.

Determined to put a stop to it all before he loses his nerve completely, Ron pivots his body more towards Hermione, removing her access to his skin. He tries his best to arrange his face into a more neutral look, hyper-aware of every expression of emotion and gesture of his hand now.

"The other night was...amazing." He lets out a shaky breath, raising his hand to stop her as she opens her mouth to agree. "But we need to stop."

The world slows down around them as the final words fall out of Ron's mouth. The smile disappears from her face, and a look of confusion takes its place.

"What did I do?"

Pain tugs at his heart at the insinuation that he might be calling things off because of her, especially given her confession that men in the past thought she was too much.

"Hermione, you did absolutely nothing wrong. You're perfect, in fact."

He tries to reach for her hand again, but she pulls away from his grip. "So perfect that you don't want it to happen again?"

"No, not at all. I want it so much, but I just can't let it carry on."

"Why not?" Her calm tone is gone, replaced with something a lot more high-pitched and squeaky. Hermione recoils further into the sofa as if trying to put distance between them. "Did your ex come back or something?"

Ron scoffs. That would be a lot easier, although the thought of her coming back into his and Hugo's life fills him with dread. He runs his hand over his beard, ignoring the loud rasp; this is not going to plan at all, not that he even had a plan. He's struggling to find the right words to convey what's going on, and he's making a massive mess of it all.

If he's not careful, he'll lose Hermione for good.

"Then what?" she shrieks, leaping to her feet and soundlessly pacing the grey carpet.

"It's Hugo. I just can't do that to him. I'm so scared, Hermione, that something bad might happen between us. You're not just some random woman. You're brilliant, but you're his teacher. He could be confused about our relationship, and that might fuck him up even more. The kid has had such a shitty time. I just can't do that to him."

She softens at the mention of Hugo, flopping back to lean against the french doors. Pushing a hand through her hair, Hermione lets out a heavy sigh. "He's doing okay, though. Has he said anything since I left yesterday?"

"No, nothing. But he would if he noticed we were spending more time together, and it'll be so confusing for him to find out that the guy who is supposed to be looking after him is more interested in his teacher."

"So? There are no rules about us dating, Ron. And if we decided that things were going to get more serious, then I would help you tell him. You wouldn't have to do anything alone. Plus, I love that kid!"

Hermione's words lay heavy in Ron's mind. Although his ex never came out and said it, Hugo was the main reason for their break-up, and Ron has put off dating for so long since, scared that every woman he found wouldn't be a potential match for the kid, too. So to meet someone this perfect, and who already adores Hugo, has been like Chudley Athletic winning more than one game a season. It's like discovering a unicorn in a dark and gloomy forest.

Seeds of doubt invade his brain. What she's saying makes sense, and he longs to believe that everything will work out properly. But Ron has already had this argument and envisioned every possible scenario in his mind during the drive over here. And every outcome is the same.

He can't do that to Hugo, not again.

Ron shakes his head. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Me too."

He risks a glance at her face and is surprised to see tears pooling in her eyes. He expected Hermione to be mad at him, to kick and scream and cause a fuss at his reasoning. He's not used to speaking his mind and having the other person listen and understand. Hermione looks resigned to her fate.

But for some reason, that's even worse.

"I still really want to be friends with you, Hermione," he offers up with a small amount of hope. "I meant what I said. You're brilliant."

She lets out a long breath. "Friends. Of course. We have to work together on the stall, so…" she trails off with a shrug.

"Yeah, the stall." Ron sighs and rubs the back of his neck. It's going to be so awkward working with her. He should have never got involved. "I should probably go."

He waits for a response, but Hermione doesn't say another word. Still, he lingers on the sofa just a moment longer, drinking in her appearance as if it's the last time he'll get to see her. He knows that's not true; they plan to meet up and work together on the stall Tuesday after school. But it just won't be the same.

Eyes cast to the floor, Ron pushes himself up from where he's sitting, ignoring the longing ache for Hermione that radiates through his body. He yearns to reach out, pull her into his arms and provide her with the comfort he's so desperate to feel, but that's not the right thing to do.

Ron has made his bed, and he needs to lie in it.

If he'd known that Friday would be the only chance he would have to spend time with her, he would have dragged it out, made it last a whole lot longer and never let her go.

But now, he has to leave.

"See you Tuesday then."

With shoulders hunched over, Ron leaves the room.

"Ron…" she whispers. A set of steps accompanies her voice as she storms towards him, and he braces himself for an attack.

Instead of a punch, Hermione slides her arms around his waist and buries her head against his back with a sob. Ron spins to face her, allowing himself to be swept up once again in Hermione's embrace. Sliding one hand into her hair, Ron lets out a heavy sigh.

"I'm going to miss you," she mumbles into his chest.

"I'll miss you too. So much. It feels mad that I won't be able to kiss you again. It's one of the best things in the world."

Ron slides two fingers under her chin, lifting her head so that he can see her better. He takes his time as if somehow, he can make this moment last for as long as possible. He wants to memorise the deep warmth of her brown eyes and how amazing they make him feel as his hand follows the line of her jaw until he's cupping her face, rubbing the pad of his thumb against her cheek.

Without asking for permission, he captures his lips with hers, basking in the explosion of sensations that wash over him as they kiss. His spare arm tightens around Hermione, pulling her into his body. The longer he lets this kiss carry on, the harder it's going to be to pull apart from her, but he can't resist her. Because despite what his mother and the rest of his family says, Ron still needs Hermione Granger.

Yet, she's the first to break away, her chest heaving with effort as she fights to catch her breath. When Ron opens his eyes, he spots the trail of tears tracing down her cheek. He longs to pull her back and kiss them away, but the chime of his phone brings him crashing back down to reality.

A nervous laugh escapes his lips. "That's probably my mum wondering where I am." He makes no effort to unwind his arms from her. "I should go."

"I'm sorry for just grabbing you like that. I just didn't want you to leave without one last kiss."

"Never apologise. I'm the one that should be sorry." He places a final kiss against her lips then lets go of her, immediately missing the warmth of Hermione's body pressed against his.

"I'll see you Tuesday then?"

Ron nods, letting his fingers slip from hers as he turns to leave. He holds his head a little higher this time, although his stomach still churns painfully from the enormity of what he's just done.

And he can't shake the feeling that he has just made the biggest mistake of his life.