Ron
We were in the car on the way back from picking up the favors. Hermione hadn't spoken to me the entire way to Brentwood, and despite my own anger, I wasn't about to have another forty five minute trip back in awkward, fuming silence.
It was getting dark, and the rain had begun coming down in sheets as we traveled down the road. "Be careful with all this rain, will you? We don't need to hydroplane."
"What? You think I'm a terrible driver, too? Maybe you shouldn't have offered to come along," she hissed.
"The bride asked me to help, so of course I was going to go. Is that what's bothering you? You wanted to do this alone?" I knew I was pushing her, but I'd spent the last hour and a half thinking of everything I wanted to say.
"No! I was supposed to go with Harry! But once again you just have to stick your nose in where it doesn't belong and muck things up!"
"Please, she would have called him anyways to tell him not to go. It wouldn't have made sense with their other plans for the evening. Why would you want to spend extra time with your boss, anyways?" I spat.
"That's not important."
Her knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel, and I was getting nervous as she was driving a tad erratically. Not that that stopped me from goading her on.
"Oh, but I think it is. How long have you been in love with him?" I dropped the bomb I'd been holding in this entire time.
"What? I'm not— That's not the point— You don't know what you're talking about!" Hermione sputtered.
"Really? I don't know what I'm talking about? I saw the way you were looking at him at the venue. That hopeless, puppy dog look in your eyes." I laughed derisively. "Do you even know how messed up that is?"
"Everything was fine until you walked into my life!" she countered.
"Oh, really? So me meeting you at that wedding threw your whole life into a tailspin, yeah? You've been working for a man you're in love with for how many years now? Hoping desperately that he'll notice you and you'll fall in love and live happily ever after! And while you wait, you'll sell your services to help other people get married so you don't have to think about how lonely your own life is. That makes complete and perfect sense that I'd be the one to get in your way."
"My life is NOT lonely! And I was almost over him until I got those flowers that I thought were from him because you left no note!"
"Yeah, Hermione, please blame me. It's all my fault!" I was sure my face was beet red as I was about to explode from anger. "Newsflash: not sure if you've ever seen the way Harry looks at Ginny, but he's disgustingly in love with her, as she is with him. Is it completely mental that she's known him for less than a month? Of course it bloody is! But there's nothing either one of us can do about so you'll just have to accept it and get over him!"
I flew forward as Hermione took her foot off the accelerator, causing the car to slow. There was so much water on the road that I felt us begin to hydroplane. I felt the back end of the vehicle sway and grabbed the side handle to hold on. I don't know how much driving experience she had in the country so I decided I should probably say something.
"Whatever you do, don't slam on the—"
Of course she did the complete opposite thing I said, or tried to say, which was pressing the brakes. She was trying to turn the steering wheel to gain control, but it wasn't doing a damn thing. Not that it would have anyways because we were hydroplaning. I knew we were going off the road, so I braced for whatever the impact was going to be. The car began to spin uncontrollably across the road and ended up sliding down a hill.
"Oh my God, we're going to die! We're going to die!" She was screeching in the darkness.
When the car finally came to a stop it had turned fully around so that the front was facing the road that was up the hill. I saw Hermione check the gears and go to switch her foot to the accelerate pedal.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I warned.
Sure enough, the back tires spun, flinging mud everywhere. The car didn't move at all. We were stuck and going to need a tow. I checked my cell phone and realized there was no service. Great. Just great.
I glanced over at Hermione and noticed her expression flash from fear to hollow to some sort of realization.
"Why did you call Jenny, 'Ginny?'" Her voice was dangerously low.
I sighed. "Because that's her name, Hermione."
"No, it's not," she said adamantly. "I've known her for five years. You've barely known her for a few weeks."
"Hermione, I promise it's the truth. Her real name is Ginevra Weasley." I wasn't going to wait for Ginny to tell her anymore. It wasn't fair to Hermione.
She let out a maniacal laugh that scared me a little. "But then that would make her your—"
"Sister, yeah. Listen, Hermione, I told her to tell you—"
"Why should I believe you?"
"You know what? Don't. No one's telling you to, but don't come to me for answers later. I've already tried to be helpful."
I couldn't stand being in that confined space with her any longer. Reaching for the door handle, I remembered there was a pub, and quite possibly an inn, about a half a kilometer from the way we came that I could walk to. I stopped when she put her hand on my arm.
"Wait." Her voice sounded softer now, but I could tell there was still hurt in it. "Why would she lie to me?"
I sighed again as I sat back in my seat and looked at Hermione, trying to gauge whether she really wanted to know. "It's because of her profession. I won't take the blame for her lying to you this entire time, but I will tell you she probably took the idea from me."
"What do you mean?"
"She was drafted with the Scottish Women's Premier League straight out of University. She plays for Glasgow City as their star forward."
"So, she's a famous athlete?" Hermione asked, trying to wrap her head around what I was telling her.
"Yes, and she didn't like the fame following her around in the off season. That's why she moved to London during those months, and that's why she disappears for half the year."
"That still doesn't explain why she'd lie about her name," Hermione said. I could tell she was confused.
"It's not common for professional athletes to go by a stage name. She knew I wrote under a pen name, and figured while she was in London she'd go by a different name as well. Ginny and Jenny sound similar, so that was easy. I don't think she was expecting to become such good friends with you, or anyone for that matter."
Hermione was silent for a while and I felt like I needed to fill the void. "Look, I'm sure there's more to it, and Ginny needs to be the one to give you the full explanation. I'm sorry I played along with the lie, but she asked me to and promised she was going to sort it out."
"Does Harry know? Or is this all a lie to him, too?"
"Hermione—" I couldn't believe after everything I'd just told her, her first thought was still about Harry.
"No, I'm serious! Ron, when I introduced them that night, I introduced her as Jenny."
"I don't know. I don't think so. She's honestly been really weird about the whole thing. The only thing I know for certain is that she really does care a lot for Harry. They're a good match for each other."
I watched Hermione's face fall. She knew I was right, but it didn't take the hurt away. I understood that more than anyone.
"I need a drink," Hermione said as she leaned forward and rested her head on the steering wheel.
"Well, lucky for you there's a pub we passed not far down the road from where we are. Maybe a little less than a kilometer in that direction. I will gladly buy you one if you want to walk. There's no signal out here anyways."
"Fine," she sounded resigned. "But just one."
Hermione
I know I only said one drink, but it was a lousy night. We couldn't get a tow until morning, so we were stranded at this small pub called The Three Broomsticks. The barmaid, Rosmerta, was pleasant enough, and told us she had extra rooms available upstairs. She normally reserved them for customers who were too intoxicated to get themselves home safely, but said she'd rent one to us if we couldn't find a ride back to the city by the time she closed.
Ha! One room. Like I was going to spend a night in the same room with Ron. My life was in shambles because of him. Not only had he called me out on my unrequited love for Harry, but he'd also dropped the bombshell on me that Je—er, Ginny, had been lying to me for five years.
I wasn't going to think about any of that at the moment, so here I was on my fifth cranberry vodka while Ron was on his sixth rum and coke. The pub had been dead when we arrived a couple hours ago, but now it was packed. The music was blaring and there were a handful of people dancing on the main floor. The alcohol had eased the tension between us, so the normal banter I was familiar from last weekend had returned. He could be charming when he wasn't such an arse.
"2 May 2006," I said as I turned to him.
"What about it?" Ron looked at me like I had five heads.
"The Creevey wedding!" I waited for his recognition, but he just continued staring at me blankly. "Oh, come off it! How can you not remember? It was on the anniversary of the brother's death! The one who lost his life in that terrible accident up in Scotland? The family had a beautiful memorial in the middle of the ceremony, and then they all lit candles at the end of the night. You wrote it so beautifully with descriptions that made me feel like I was there!"
I knew I was gushing, but I couldn't help it. This always happened when I drank a little too much. I'd talk about anything and everything.
Ron shook his head. "Nope. It's not ringing any bells, sorry."
"Okay, there's got to be one thing you actually like about weddings," I said, pressing him to finally give me an honest answer.
"I did say I enjoyed open bars in the taxi that night," Ron reminded me.
"That doesn't count. Come on...you know you want to tell me," I pleaded as I put on my best flirting act. At least, I was pretty sure it was an act.
"Hmmm. Alright. So, you know when the bride has her big moment at the end of the aisle, and everyone stands up and looks at her in her posh white dress?" I nodded, urging him to go on. "Well, I like to look at the groom. The poor dolt who's decided he wants to tie himself to one person for the rest of his life. It's his last moment of freedom, and most of the time they spend it looking like a lovesick puppy as their soon-to-be wife walks down the aisle. That's my favorite part."
I felt my jaw drop so far that it hurt. "No. Way."
"What?" he chuckled.
"That can't be your favorite part because it's my favorite part!"
"Well, it is."
"I didn't think it was possible. Having something in common with you," I said.
"We were bound to find some shared interests eventually," Ron reminded me.
I rolled my eyes. "Well, I'm sure it's one of very few shared interests. Besides, I still think this is all a ruse." My hand made a circular motion in the air to indicate I was talking about him in general.
"What do you mean by that?" He asked with a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
"This whole, 'I hate weddings' thing. I think you're really a hopeless romantic on the inside who's just hiding behind this facade of being cynical and wounded about everything." I raised my eyebrows as I waited for him to contest my observation.
"Wow, I poured my heart out to you last weekend, telling you my deepest, darkest secret, and you throw it in my face saying it's just an act. Right…"
I felt bad at first, but then I noticed his adorable lopsided grin and knew he was kidding. "I'm just saying this whole vibe you give off could absolutely help you pick up any girl you wanted."
"What vibe are we talking about?" he asked. He shifted the barstool to turn full toward me.
"The whole serious yet funny, mysterious and sexy thing" I said with a smile as I finished off my current drink.
I noticed him perk up. "You think I'm sexy?" he tilted his head in question.
Realizing what I admitted, I laughed it off and tried to back pedal. "Nooo, I'm saying you create the illusion of being sexy."
"Uh-huh, I think you actually do think I'm sexy. You just don't want to admit you're attracted to my charm after all."
Ron waggled his eyebrows at me when ABBA faded in on the pub's surround sound with 'Take a Chance on Me.'
"I love this song!" I said as Ron echoed the same words as me at the same time.
"Wow, two things we both like in less than five minutes? It's a record. Come and dance," he said.
He held out his hand, and instinctively I took it as he pulled me out onto the dance floor. He was surprisingly good, even though we showed off all our worst dance moves all while laughing and chanting some of the words with the rest of the group we were sharing the floor with. I only half caught some of the words in my inebriated state: If you change your mind, I'm the first in line. Honey, I'm still free. Take a chance on me. If you need me, let me know. Gonna be around if you've got no place to go, when you're feeling down.
Why was he staring right at me when that part came on? Well, okay, I guess I was staring at him, too. I couldn't possibly be taking a fancy to Ron Weasley. That would be ridiculous. No, he was just a nice distraction from everything.
ABBA faded out and one of my all time favorite Elton John songs faded in. We both looked at each other with the same excitement and I didn't even have to ask if this was another one of his favorites. Somehow we'd both silently agreed to take the duet parts as the song started.
It began casually as he spun me around the dance floor as he sang Elton's part and I took Kiki's. Neither of us realized that everyone else was watching and bobbing their heads in interest at our performance. It wasn't until we sang woo hoo, nobody knows it, and the rest of the bar chanted the second nobody knows it back to us that we realized they were watching our ridiculous performance. But I was five drinks in and feeling free as we kept on going.
"So don't go breakin' my heart," Ron sang as he gave me this challenging look like he thought I was falling for him.
"I won't go breakin' your heart," I responded when it was my turn, returning his look with an 'as if that will ever happen' glance of my own.
We both leaned in to sing "Don't go breakin' my heart" simultaneously.
Everyone cheered as the interlude played between the refrain and the next verse, and we were somehow shuffled back to the bar where our performance continued on top of the bar. I was barefoot and Ron was in his socks. Thank goodness the ceiling was high, otherwise he would have hit his head. I was sure Rosmerta wasn't pleased, but she didn't stop us or tell us to get down.
It was a whole affair as everyone cheered us on and we kept going until the end where everyone was singing 'don't go breakin' my heart' together. Ron had gotten down clumsily and held out his hands to help me down. I leaned over and put my hands on his shoulders as he held me firmly by the waist. I stepped off the bar, my feet slipped underneath me as I felt for the ground, and I fell into Ron. Our eyes locked and he looked at me in a way I hadn't recognized before.
"What?" I asked.
"I cried like a baby at the Creevey wedding. You were right; I remember the whole night like it was yesterday."
I was shocked. The music was fading away as I threw all caution to the wind. My arms were still wrapped around his neck and Ron's were still on my waist. I leaned in and kissed him with everything I had, and he responded in kind.
Ron
I don't exactly remember the details of what happened next. Hermione was kissing me and all I knew was I never wanted it to stop. We broke apart long enough to pay the tab, and next thing I knew, Rosmerta was handing us a key and we were upstairs entering one of the rooms she had available.
I threw my coat on the back of a chair as the door shut behind us. I didn't waste any time as my lips caught hers again. She tasted sweet from the cranberry juice and her lips were soft against my own. I hadn't felt this way about snogging someone since secondary school, when it was supposed to be exhilarating to kiss someone. There was something different about this kiss. About this woman.
I knew I was attracted to her from the moment I'd first laid eyes on her. Even though I tried to squash that feeling, it clearly didn't work, seeing as we were here right now about to have sex. She was the first woman I'd willingly let into my life since Romilda Vane shattered everything I thought I knew about love. There was something about Hermione Granger that I couldn't get enough of.
My hands were in her hair as she unbuttoned my shirt and peeled it off of my shoulders. Our clothes came off quickly and a whirlwind of color lay abandoned on the floor. We were down to our underwear as Hermione laid back on the bed and I hovered over top of her.
"Are you sure you want this?" I asked. I knew we both had a fair amount to drink, and I needed to make sure. "Are you sure you want me?"
"Yes," she said as she made eye contact with me. "But I'll have you know this isn't something I normally do."
"What? Casual sex?" I asked.
"Yes. I never do this. Ever." I watched Hermione bite her bottom lip nervously.
"It's not like I'm a stranger, Hermione, but if you're really uncomfortable we don't have t—"
"No! I want to. I really do! It's just that I—this isn't normal for me."
I was watching her carefully. "You have had sex before, right?"
"What? Yes! Of course I have! Don't be ridiculous!" she huffed.
"Alright, alright. I had to check," I said as she rolled her eyes.
I didn't bother waiting any longer to lean in and kiss her more. I felt her fingers rake up and down my back as her hips moved instinctively towards mine. I moved my mouth away from hers as I began kissing her neck, while my hand reached around to her back to unclasp her bra.
She discarded it to the floor as my hands cupped her breasts and I felt her hot breath against my skin when she moaned into my shoulder. I felt her hands reach for my pants and pull them down before removing her own.
"You're sure?" I asked her one more time and she nodded.
"Please, Ron."
The sound of my name on her lips all but did me in as I positioned myself to enter her. I was just about to slip in when I realized what I almost forgot. "Shit. Condom," I muttered under my breath.
"It's fine, I'm on the pill. Now, please," she begged.
I followed her command as I slipped inside of her and she gasped. She was so slick and wet and warm and bloody hell it had been a long time since I'd experienced this.
"Ohh," I heard her moan underneath me and I leaned in to catch her moan with my mouth.
We moved in tandem as I repositioned myself on one elbow so I could slip my hand between us to caress her center as I thrust inside of her. She was bloody gorgeous as her hair was splayed wildly across the pillow. Her legs were wrapped around my waist as she began to buck harder against me. It wouldn't be long now, and I had a feeling she was approaching her own climax as her movements became more and more erratic.
"O-OH Ron!" she said as her mouth made a perfect 'o' as she came.
"Fuck, 'Mione, I'm gonna," I said as I reached my own abrupt peak.
I leaned my head into the crook of her neck as I spilled into her. It took us a moment to catch our breath, and I kissed the spot on her collarbone as I rolled over carefully. I looked over and watched her as she was still recovering. It was nice to know I could still please a woman properly. Toward the end of my last relationship, Romilda was clearly bored with the sex, and I was pretty sure she was faking her own orgasms to appease me.
With Hermione, I knew it was real. I looked over to make sure she was okay. Merlin, she was even more beautiful than I'd imagined. Not that I'd been thinking about her in this way a lot. Okay, maybe I was a little. I was honestly scaring myself at how quickly I was letting her in. I still wasn't ready to admit I was falling for her.
I watched her get up next to me as she reached for her knickers and her bra and put them back on. Figuring I should probably follow her lead, I got up to get my pants and slid them back on before also putting on my t-shirt. Apparently we wouldn't be cuddling naked.
"You okay?" I asked her carefully.
"Yes, I'm fine. I just—I told you I never do this. I'm not used to…" she trailed off.
"This?" I finished her sentence. I'd never seen her so uncomfortable. Not knowing what to say, I decided on the safest bet. "Why don't we try and get some sleep?"
"Yeah, you're probably right," she said, looking nervously between me and the single bed.
"Hermione, we literally just had sex. You aren't back to hating me again, are you?"
"What? No. Well, not entirely," she said as her cheeks turned pink and a small smile tugged at her lips.
"I'll sleep in the chair if you want me to," I offered.
"No, no it's fine. I'm sorry I'm being difficult. I just never do this," she said again.
"I know. It's fine," I couldn't help but chuckle.
We both climbed back into bed. Hermione turned off the light and rolled over to sleep. I decided I should probably give up trying to understand her. Just when I thought I'd broken through, she seemed more distant than ever.
It took me a while to finally settle down. I was stuck between this was just casual and meant nothing, and I'm falling hard for this woman. I finally drifted off to sleep as I realized I couldn't pretend it wasn't true. I wanted something more with Hermione, and I was determined to talk to her about it in the morning.
