AN: Happy Friday! I'm away on a short break tomorrow, so I'm posting this update today so I don't have to faff about doing it tomorrow. I need that time for last-minute packing.
Thank you for all your lovely comments, as always. Here is the long-awaited conversation between Hermione and Ron. I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know if you do, and if you don't also let me know, but please remember to be constructive and kind. xxx
Ron persuades Ginny to give him and Hugo a lift home. Once the kid is in bed, Hermione comes over for the talk. Will a full explanation of her secrets help bring them closer together?
The mood around the dinner table returns to normal once Arthur brings over dessert, although Ron notices that his mum is a little quieter than usual. Although he doesn't regret standing up for himself, guilt still twists in his stomach. He hates upsetting people, and it feels worse knowing what Molly has sacrificed for her family over the years.
Recognising that it's still essential to remain on her good side, Ron gets to his feet as his mum begins collecting up the dirty plates.
"I'll clear the table, Mum," he says. "You've done enough today."
Molly gives him an appreciative smile. "Thanks, love."
Harry offers to help, and the two of them work together to gather all the dirty plates and load them into the large sink in the kitchen. He waits until Ron has his hands sunk in the warm, soapy water before murmuring, "Well done, mate."
Ron puffs his chest out, feeling proud of what he's achieved this afternoon. "Cheers. I wasn't too harsh, was I?"
"Not at all." Harry shakes his head. "You handled it well."
Grinning, Ron concentrates on working through the mountain of washing up whilst Harry dries. They continue talking, keeping the topic superficial, wary of the proximity of everyone else at the dinner table.
By home time, the rain is torrential, and the summer storm is in full force. A gust of wind batters the rickety farmhouse, wailing through the old wooden walls, making it sound like a ghoul is living in the attic. Hugo shrinks against Ron as lightning strikes, followed by a grumble of thunder, illuminating the dark grey skies.
"Don't be scared. It can't hurt you, and I won't let it either." Ron smiles down at him. "Although, I don't think we'll be walking home in this, will we?"
With a sigh, he retreats back into the house in search of his sister, who is helping their mum in the kitchen.
"Ginny," he whinges, making sure he has the most adorable smile on his face. He sidles up to her, nudging her with his hip.
With a dramatic sigh, she replies, "No."
"You haven't even let me ask the question." Ron frowns at her then laughs as she raises her eyebrows at him. "Can you drop Hugo and I home? You wouldn't want your favourite nephew to get soaked or struck by lightning, would you?"
She contemplates it for a moment, then rolls her eyes. "Fine, but I need to finish what I'm doing here, first."
"Thanks sis." He kisses her cheek then wanders back to the front door. After corralling Hugo, who has been distracted by an animated game of Frustration taking place in the living room, Ron makes sure they're both wrapped up warm.
Once they're dressed against the elements, Hugo stays close to Ron as if sensing that trouble is brewing. Despite waking this morning feeling optimistic about tonight's conversation with Hermione, Ron's nerves are beginning to creep in, his stomach twisting in anxious knots. He's apprehensive to hear why she felt like she had to keep Rose a secret, and he's worried about what else she might be hiding.
Eight o'clock feels like hours away, yet he knows that the time will fly past with Hugo's usual bedtime routine.
Ginny eventually emerges in her own raincoat. "I'll go pull the car closer. We don't want Hugo getting wet."
She leaves the front door open, and Ron peers out at the dismal weather then turns back to announce to the rest of the house that they're leaving when his mum appears from the kitchen. She's wringing the edge of her apron, more lines than usual decorating her face. Ron's heart sinks at the thought of her getting older. He's never noticed it before today.
"Ron?" she asks in a quiet voice before taking a step closer to him. "I wanted to say sorry for interfering the other weekend. I've talked with your father, and he agrees with you. What I did was wrong. Whatever you decide about your relationship with Miss Granger, I'll support you. I'll even babysit Hugo while you go on dates with her."
At the mention of his nephew, Ron checks that the kid is out of earshot. He doesn't want to get Hugo's hopes up with all this talk of relationships and Hermione. Although the rain is still pouring from the sky. the thunder and lightning have let up. Hugo is making the most of it, splashing around in the giant puddle that's formed on the front lawn, much to the dismay of Ginny, who has now pulled the car right up to the front door and the chickens, who glare at Hugo from the shelter of their coop.
Rolling his eyes at the mess the child is making, Ron shifts his attention back to his mum, scratching the thick auburn beard on his chin.
"Thanks, Mum," he says, letting go of the door to move towards her. "I'm sorry I dealt with it in front of everyone else. Maybe I should have pulled you aside and had a chat with you alone. I guess I lost my rag and reacted without thinking."
"It's hard when your children grow up and no longer need you," Molly muses. "You'll learn that soon enough. But know that I only meant well. I'll keep quiet from now on unless you ask for my advice."
Ron nods, then closes the gap between them, wrapping his arms around his mum and pulling her close to his chest. A small sob escapes her lips, but he chooses to ignore it. Instead, he tightens his grip on her and allows the embrace to quiet his nerves a little.
"She's coming over tonight. I'm a little anxious about it," Ron admits with a sigh. "What if she's been keeping other secrets from me? What if I already ruined our relationship when I dumped her and finding out about Rose sealed the deal? I like her a lot, Mum, but I'm scared that the lies were too much, and I'm not going to want a relationship with her."
Molly lifts her head to gaze up at him, her hazel eyes shining with tears. "You have a good heart, Ron. I'm sure whatever she tells you later, you'll make the best decision for you and Hugo. If you need to, you can call me no matter how late it is, if you need help digesting what she says later."
"Thanks, Mum." Ron pulls away as Ginny gives an impatient toot of her horn. "We better make a move."
Giving his mum a small wave, he leaves the farmhouse, ensuring the door is shut behind him to block out the storm from the warm home. Running through the rain, Ron takes Hugo's hand and coaxes him out of the puddle before helping him climb into the car. After fastening both their seatbelts, Ron gives his sister a huge grin.
"Off you go, then."
As the car reverses out of the drive, Ron turns to Hugo with raised eyebrows. Thick mud coats his boots, and splashes reach as high as his waist. There's even a speck of dirt on the kid's nose.
"Looks like you've been having fun," Ron quips, trying his best to suppress a laugh and be serious.
"I like splashing in puddles." Hugo grins back. "Is it true Miss Granger is coming over tonight?"
"Are you a spy? You need to learn to stop listening to adult's conversations, mister. But no, not today," he lies, ignoring another twist of guilt. "We have a call about school disco stuff."
"Can I talk to her?"
"If you're still awake."
"Excellent!" Hugo turns his face to watch the scenery as it flashes past, and Ron smirks. The kid is already showing signs of being exhausted, and Ron is confident his nephew won't last long tonight. As he turns back to face the front, Ginny throws him a grin, causing Ron to roll his eyes. Not wanting to answer any more questions, especially those that might excite Hugo, he flips the radio on, and starts to sing along to the inane pop song that fills the car.
⁂
As he suspected, by the time they get home and Hugo has his bath, the kid is struggling to keep his eyes open. Ron tucks him into bed, despite Hugo's protests, then passes his book to read.
"It's chapter seventeen tonight, buddy," Ron says as he perches on the edge of the mattress.
"And then I can talk to Miss Granger?"
"Sure."
Hugo makes himself comfortable then opens the book to the right page. With a huff, he reads, "For the next week and a half, the boys continued to dig in and around the area where X-Ray had supposedly found the gold tube."
It doesn't take long for Hugo's slow but studious tone to drag even more than usual. He's trying his best, but his eyelids droop as he fights off sleep. Ron waits until Hugo shuts his eyes and his soft snores fill the room before prising the book out of his firm grip. Pulling the duvet up and tucking it under his armpits, Ron kisses the top of Hugo's head before leaving the room, making sure to shut the door tight behind him. He doesn't want his conversation with Hermione to disturb Hugo tonight, it will be a lot harder for them to have an open and honest conversation with each other with the kid hanging around.
Ron does some tidying as he heads downstairs, making sure the house looks ship-shape for Hermione's arrival. When he invited her over yesterday, he had been hoping that the nice weather would last for a little longer and they could sit in the garden, given how much she loved being out there. Plus, it might have felt a little less formal rather than perching on the sofa or sitting at the dining table. But the storm is still raging outside, and they have no choice.
Reaching the kitchen, Ron debates whether it's appropriate to get a bottle of wine out for them. It's a school night, and Hermione has a tough week ahead of her, including three assessed observations and an interview, but a glass of wine might help them relax a little. He locates two clean glasses, then pulls a bottle out of the rack, reading the label before deciding it's good enough for them to crack open.
As soon as he sets the bottle and glasses on the coffee table, there is a quiet knock at the door. His stomach lurches at the sound, and although he yearns to run upstairs and hide, his traitorous feet lead him straight out to the hallway. As he passes the mirror, he checks his reflection. Yesterday's day in the sun has caused his freckles to multiply, making him look almost tanned. But his hair is a mess from the number of times he's run his hands through it or tugged on it today. He licks his hand and tries to flatten it down, but it's no good. Ron scowls at his face before pulling open the door.
Hermione waits on the doorstep, a large umbrella held over her head. It's a lame attempt at protecting her from the rain, which is now falling so hard it looks like it's coming down sideways. A slick raincoat hides her slim frame, but there's a smile on her face.
"Hey, come in," Ron breathes out, ignoring the rush of his pulse in his ears. "You didn't walk here, did you?"
He holds the door open wider for her, welcoming her into the house. She folds the umbrella up as she steps over the threshold then holds it out for Ron. "Oh gosh, no. It's way too awful out there for that. No, this is from getting out of the taxi and waiting on the doorstep for you."
"It's gross, isn't it?" He helps her with her coat, surprised at the easy way their conversation is flowing, despite their argument yesterday. Hanging the soggy items on the end of the bannister, he turns to face her with a small smile. "I walked Hugo to the Burrow earlier, but we had to beg a lift home from Ginny. I think it would have been cruel to make him suffer through this weather, even though I had to coax him out of a puddle. I'm not sure he's too keen on thunderstorms."
"I agree. We would have had to call Social Services. I think the thunder and lightning have passed, at least."
"I would have come and picked you up, but he's fast asleep, and it wouldn't have been fair to wake him."
Hermione looks surprised. "He's here then?"
"Yeah, of course, he is. He has school in the morning. Hugo will be upset when he finds out he missed you. He thinks we're having a chat on the phone, and he tried hard to stay awake. He wanted to say hi to you."
Laughing, she places her bag next to the coat stand and toes off her wet trainers. "Well, at least he gets to spend the day with me tomorrow. I'm sure that'll make up for it."
Ron leads her through to the living room.
"I hope this is okay? I wanted to sit outside, but…" he trails off with a shrug.
"You bought us wine?"
"It's only a bottle I found in the kitchen." He sits on the edge of the sofa and opens the bottle, pouring them both a glass. While he's doing that, Hermione settles on the opposite end, in the spot she occupied the first time she came over, which feels like ages ago now. He passes her a drink before making himself more comfortable.
"Thank you. How was the rest of your weekend?"
Ron pivots his body towards her to give him a better view of her pretty face. "The usual. Looking after Hugo and dinner with the family today. What about you?"
"I wanted to give Rose a tour of the village, but because of the weather, we ended up watching old movies and catching up. It was nice having her here."
Rose. The mention of the teenager's name brings yesterday's bad feelings bubbling back up. He bites his inner cheek to stop the flow of negativity before it consumes his mind, but the metallic taste of blood does not soothe the nausea building in his stomach. Ron was stupid to believe that he'd sorted out his thoughts and had moved on from it all. Of course, he wasn't okay with any of it.
His lips draw into a tight line, and his body grows rigid, although he hates the fact that he's reacting this way. He's defaulted to defensive mode even before their conversation has even started, but he fights the urge to shut off from Hermione, knowing that it wouldn't be conducive to a constructive discussion.
"Sounds nice," he manages to spit out.
Hermione's eyes narrow, and she sets her glass on the table without taking a sip, the clunk absorbed in the tension surrounding the room. She straightens her shoulders, mirroring his body language.
Shit, this isn't going to plan.
"I guess I should explain about her?" she asks, staring at her hands as they twist together in her lap.
"That's why I asked you here," he responds in a curt tone, not caring if he sounds brusque.
Blowing her curls off her forehead, Hermione begins. "Rose is fourteen years old. I had her during my third year of university. It turns out that being on the pill and using condoms still can't prevent little accidents."
A nervous laugh escapes her lips, and she clamps a hand over her mouth with wide eyes. After taking a moment to compose herself, she continues, "Her father, Viktor, was lovely and understanding when I said I didn't want an abortion. He adores Rose, even though he doesn't get to see her all that much. He had already graduated university—we met when I was a fresher, and he was in his third year. We decided to keep the baby, and we thought we could make it work.
"And then he got an offer to play football professionally in Scotland, but I refused to move with him. We had no other choice but to call it off."
Hermione grimaces. "Mum and Dad were supportive. They helped me a lot with Rose when she was small, and I was able to get my teaching qualification. It took me a few more years than planned, as I had to switch to part-time to look after Rose.
"I decided that going straight into a school as a newly qualified teacher full-time was a little too daunting with a toddler relying on me, which is why I took the job in the British Library as it worked out better for me."
Ron keeps his eyes trained on her as she talks, resisting the millions of questions that sit at the end of his tongue, desperate to be spat out. He promised her time to talk, and now she's speaking openly and honestly with him, it would be rude of him to interrupt her even as a quiet rage bubbles low in his stomach.
He can't believe that Rose's father would give up on her like that. What kind of man could up and leave, abandoning his daughter and girlfriend for a career? Ron has heard of Krum, almost everyone has, and he seemed like a decent fellow from what he's read about him. But now, Ron's opinion of the footballer has completely flipped.
What a fucking coward.
Hermione is still talking, and Ron forces his attention back to her words.
"The job in Ottery came up at the right time," Hermione explains, "and I liked the idea of living in a small village with her. It feels safe here, although she's not happy at being a long way from my parents or her friends. We decided that Rose could stay with them until the end of term, then split her time between me, her dad and London over the summer. She's keen to spend a little more time with her pals. In September, if I get made permanent, she'll move here with me. We've already been on a tour of King's School, and she passed the entrance exams."
"Wow, it's tough to get into that school. Only Percy and Bill got places out of all of us."
"Despite what it seems like." Hermione smiles. "I'm proud of her."
"Then why keep Rose a secret from me?"
Ron has to force himself to say her name, but he knows it's not the kid's fault. He's stayed quiet throughout Hermione's speech, even though every word cuts him like a knife. Their stories could be taken from the same book. Both decided with a living partner to take on a child, who let them down when shit got serious. His blood is boiling, but he continues to take deep breaths and ignore the steady pounding in his heart. He promised to hear her out, and he's a man of his word.
Hermione does her best impression of a goldfish, opening her mouth then closing it again. She's fighting with what to say next and can't seem to spit it out. She takes a huge breath, then tries again.
"It wasn't that I kept it a secret from you. I didn't get an opportunity to tell you. It wasn't a deliberate decision."
"F—" Jumping to his feet, he catches the swear word before it slips from his mouth. "What the hell do you mean you didn't get an opportunity? I spent ages sitting right here, telling you about Hugo, my brother's death, and how my girlfriend walked out on me after deciding with me to adopt Hugo. It's the same damn story you told me. Any of that time would have been a good chance for you to say, 'Hey Ron. I know exactly how you feel because it turns out that I'm a single parent, too.'"
"I didn't want to interrupt you," she shrieks. "You were open and honest with me, and I didn't want to turn the conversation around and make it all about me. I've never had a man want to talk to me like that before. I was overwhelmed. And then by the time we stopped talking about Hugo, we had other more important tasks on our mind—"
Ron cuts in, not wanting the thoughts of their passionate night in bed to distract him. "But even the morning after, when we woke up naked next to each other. I asked you outright if there was any info you wanted to tell me about you. That would have been the perfect fucking opportunity."
"I..." she trails off, holding her head in her hands. "I was absorbed in you. You were perfect. I've never had a night like that, and I didn't want to scare you off."
"Scare me off?" Ron pulls at his hair, forgetting about the sleeping child upstairs as he shouts, "What kind of man do you think I am? Do you think I'm like Rose's dad, and that I would abandon you?"
"But that's exactly what you did." Hermione pushes herself off the sofa, her cheeks turning red as she holds his gaze. Venom fills her voice when she says, "You came over, the day after we slept together and dumped me. You didn't even check if I was okay after Bill found me half-naked in your kitchen."
Her words sting, and he takes a step back from her, hands clenching at his sides. His fingernails cut into his palms, but he doesn't feel any pain from it. It's not like he wasn't thinking it himself, but hearing it come from her cuts differently, and hurts more.
"You know why I had to finish it," he reasons. "I was trying to protect Hugo, and I regretted finishing it with you straight away."
"Yeah, well. It hurt a lot." She folds her arms across her chest. "And I did plan to tell you about Rose. I thought that if we were going to go on a date, I could tell you then. I wanted to make sure that I could trust you. I know how small-minded little villages like this can be, and I didn't want the news about me having a teenager while I'm still young to get around. Respect in my career is important to me. And then you turned up at my flat and pulled the rug out from under my feet. What was I supposed to do, blurt it out as you walked away from me?"
"You should have! Because knowing you had a family too might have changed my reaction to what my mum told me!"
"If you wanted me, it wouldn't have mattered what Molly said. If you wanted me that much, you would have ignored her and carried on seeing me. We could have made it work, family or not."
There's a fiery look in her eyes, and passion fills her face. Despite her small stature, it's breathtaking how scary she looks, and Ron fights the strong urge to grab her and snog her senseless. But he's too enraged to act on the horny part of him right now. Ron needs to finish this argument first, deal with the current emotions in play before tackling the next step.
He paces the carpet, needing to find a way to release the crazy energy he feels.
"I fucking wanted to. Jesus Christ, these past few weeks have been torture for me. You don't know how many times I've picked up my phone to text or ring you, only to have to force myself to put it down and find another way to distract myself. And all that planning for the stupid fete. Every time I was in the same room as you, I wanted to grab you, wrap you up in my arms and relive that night we had together."
Ron's words are coming in short bursts, his chest is heaving, but he has to get this all out before he explodes. It's been weeks of pent-up frustration, and now he's opened the floodgates, there's no stopping him.
"But it's not only the intimacy I miss. Not being able to talk to you sucks. And I don't mean the surface level chit chat we've been having, but I missed not being able to call you if I had a bad day or if I wanted to celebrate good news. I stood up to my mum today, and I was desperate to ring you and tell you about it, but I couldn't because that wouldn't have been fair on you.
"It's fucking crazy that I've only known you for three weeks, yet every thought I have is about you. You're in my dreams and my fantasies, Hermione, and I hate that because you broke my heart yesterday. I trusted you. I wish you would have the same faith in me."
During his manic babbling, Ron has settled in front of Hermione, his angry heart pounding against his ribcage. They're standing toe to toe, and he glares down at her, but instead of cringing at the intensity, she cranes her neck up at him in defiance.
"But I do! And I've fucking…."
Hearing her swear causes Ron's breath to hitch and stirs a longing for her low in his belly. "You fucking what?"
Instead of answering, Hermione grabs hold of the back of his neck and pulls him into a hard kiss. Electricity courses through his veins, and his whole body tingles. Ron responds with enthusiasm, wrapping both his arms around her and lifting her off her feet in an attempt to close the remaining millimetres between their bodies. Taking the hint, she hooks both ankles around his hips with a moan.
The sounds she's making causes almost all of his blood in his body to pool south. He needs air, but he doesn't want to be away from her lips for too long. He breaks up the long kiss with a couple of shorter ones, gasping for any small amount of breath he can get before diving straight back in, grazing his tongue along the seam of her mouth. She opens without protest, and their tongues battle amidst hungry groans.
Only kissing Hermione isn't enough. Ron needs more from her. Although his lungs feel like they might burst, and his excitement strains against her hot centre, he tightens his grip on her and pushes the kisses even deeper. He steers her towards the sofa, laying her down amongst the pillows without breaking their frenzied snog. Without a second thought, he climbs over her, settling his knees on either side of her legs and framing her head with his arms. His hips mirror the actions of his tongue, thrusting against her with reckless abandon as their lips continue to massage against each other.
This is heaven.
Ron's hands reach for the button on Hermione's jeans. He's about to lose control and give in to the sensations she's giving him, but the sound of footsteps across the floor above them forces the couple apart, both of them gasping for breath. They freeze, too scared to move or make any noise that might give their precarious position away to the half-asleep child upstairs. The toilet flushes, then zombie-like steps shuffle back. Only when Hugo's bedroom door closes again do Ron and Hermione allow themselves to relax.
Letting out a nervous laugh, Ron sits back on his haunches. He runs his hand over his beard as his eyes rake over Hermione. Her chest heaves, her skin is flushed pink, and her hair is a wild mess of curls, but she looks fucking amazing with her kiss-swollen lips. The t-shirt, still damp from the rain, has ridden up her torso, flashing a magnificent amount of bare, olive skin that stokes the dying flames from their passionate clinch.
Still, the moment has gone, and regret fills his heart instead.
"We shouldn't," he begins but is interrupted with Hermione's heavy sigh.
"You're right, I guess. Jumping straight into sex is what got us into this mess in the first place."
"But I want to." He pauses, hesitating as he tries to formulate the best way to say what he has to say without upsetting her. "And if we want this to work out, then we need to approach it differently. We can't pick up where we left off, and I'm not even sure that I want to."
Disappointment fills Hermione's face. She sits up and straightens her clothes before wriggling out from underneath him, making sure to shuffle away and put some distance between them. "Of course, why would you? We both hurt each other. I was stupid to think you might still want me."
"Did you zone out while I was snogging you?" Ron chuckles. "I think it's pretty clear that I want you. I'm fucking crazy for you. But you hurt me, and I hurt you. We need to take time to process this, I think. Especially if we want a better outcome."
Hermione nods, but no words come out of her mouth.
Ron continues, "I'm still mad at you, Hermione, and we can't snog our anger away, even if kissing you is the best kind of therapy. But I'm glad we talked, I understand the circumstances now, and although it sucks, I get it. I didn't help by letting my mum get under my skin and force me into making a rash decision. I have regretted it every day since. I want to make the right choice this time. Please can you give me a week to calm down and digest what you told me?"
She nods, taking his hand and tangling their fingers together with a small smile. "I am sorry, Ron. I never meant to hurt you. I guess I can agree to having time to think. I should consider how this might affect Rose, too."
"Thank you for being understanding."
"It's not like I have a choice." She squeezes his hand. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes."
Ron leans into her, pressing two soft kisses against her cheek before stealing one from her lips. With a sigh, he rests his forehead against hers. "Do you want me to order you a taxi home?"
"Yes, please."
Letting go of her hand, Ron helps her up then wraps his arms around her in a tight hug. He buries his nose into her curls, drawing in a long breath and letting her scent fill his nostrils. He doesn't want to let go of her, and he's anxious that given time to think, she might decide that she doesn't want him after all. But they have to take this leap of faith and trust that they'll gravitate back together at the end of it.
"It'll be okay, I promise," he whispers into her hair.
He hopes that he's right.