No Time For Epilogues
Chapter 28
March 1, 1999
Ron's birthday party at the Burrow was winding down. Hermione sat in a chair, Fleur and Angelina Johnson chatting on the sofa next to her. She really wasn't paying much attention to them; her attention was on the tall redhead across the room. She never thought she could come to love someone so much. She thought back to the day after Christmas when Ginny asked her how she knew Ron was the one for her.
"It was the second time we kissed. Let's face it, our first kiss was something out of a romance novel, passionately kissing as war raged outside."
She paused and smiled at the memory.
"Our second kiss was just after I returned from Australia with my parents. When I got back, Ron came to the house, looked at me as if I'd been gone for a whole year and crossed the backyard in two steps it seemed. He took my face in his hands and kissed me...I never wanted that kiss to stop. I knew at that point that no one would ever make me feel the way Ron makes me feel."
"Wow Hermione, I never took you for being such a...well...a romantic," Ginny said. Especially about my brother!
"I know, I never really gave much thought to romance, and here I am, planning my wedding! You know how else I know he's the one for me? He's my first thought in the morning and my last thought before I go to sleep."
She saw Ron eat his third piece of birthday cake and nod at something Harry said. He's stopped talking with food in his mouth! Pleasantly surprised, she wasn't sure when he gained that ability, but she tired of nagging him about it and he stated that he was tired of hearing it. She grinned at the bit of chocolate frosting on his faint trying-to-be-a-mustache and resisted the urge to stroll over there and lick it off. Down girl, down! While it would be titillating to the two of them, it probably wouldn't be so to the people present. She also realized that he more Ron watched the telly at the Grangers, the more he became interested in aspects of muggle life, clothes and music in particular. "Muggle stuff always seems to change, wizard stuff hardly ever does; traditional, but kinda boring isn't it?" he stated. Tonight he was wearing what had become his favorite clothing to wear: a white t-shirt ("like that bloke singing on the telly" he pronounced- tucked in front and untucked in the back), blue jeans and boots. She liked him wearing that too. The shirt accentuated his fit, shapely chest and stomach that she loved to rake her nails across. The jeans defined his equally fit, shapely bum and her eyes drifted to the bulge in front. Yep, those jeans look good. She felt a nudge on her thigh.
"Are you all right? You kinda spaced out," Angelina asked. "Is it about the wedding again?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, wedding," she said and took a quick sip of wine.
"We're here to help, all you need to do is ask," Angelina said and patted her knee. She resumed her Ron-musings and thought to what had happened just before the party.
He had walked into the kitchen at his flat and asked how he looked. Hermione looked at him and nodded in approval until she came to the zipper of his jeans. Her shoulders started shaking and she covered her face with her hands.
"Shite, if I look that bad I'll just go and change," he huffed and started to leave the kitchen until he saw Hermione holding her stomach and leaning on the counter, hysterically laughing. Unable to laugh, she shook her head and pointed at his pants. He looked down and saw that some of his green and orange polka-dot boxers were sticking out of his zipper. He rolled his eyes and yanked the zipper down, snagging the boxers in the zipper. A tug-of-war with his jeans ensued and he yelped, causing Hermione to jump.
"Bloody hell, I just yanked out a short and curly!" he sputtered. Hermione felt as if she might pass out from lack of oxygen from laughing so hard at the comment.
Now she felt the laughter coming on again, at just the memory of the scene. She couldn't help it. Soft giggles erupted to uncontrollable, full blown laughs and whoops of mirth. Everyone in the Burrow stopped whatever they were doing and looked curiously at her, wondering what was so funny, amused at the sight of Hermione coming undone in the chair, wiping away tears of laughter.
When she snorted trying to catch her breath, it prompted Fleur to ask Angelina quietly, "Just how much as she 'ad to dreenk?"
Harry loved it. He couldn't recall if he had ever seen her laugh like that.
March 18, 1999
Gryffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch Match
"I can't get over how good she is," Hermione marveled when Ginny scored for the fourth time. "Wish I could fly like that."
The Gryffindor team, inspired by Ginny's stellar performance this year, played like a team possessed and it was a given that they would win the Quidditch cup. The best the other teams could try for was not to lose by hundreds of points a match.
"She's broken every Chaser record Hogwarts ever had," Ron said with pride. "And you could...well, maybe not as good as her, but Hermione, you're good at bloody everything it seems, so why not flying?"
Hermione sighed. "First off, I'm not good at bloody everything. Secondly there's no cure, magical or otherwise, for fear of heights."
It seemed like a silly fear to him, heights, then he thought of his spider fear and chuckled. What a pair he and Hermione made. She would use a broom to sweep but never fly, but would fearlessly charge at a spider with a rolled up paper or shoe with a casual "It's dead, love." Ron on the other hand, felt perfectly comfortable on a broom and left sweeping to others, but if you so much as said the word 'spider' he felt an anxiety attack come on.
Suddenly, Madame Hooch blew on her whistle and called, "Creevey's caught the snitch, Gryffindor wins!" and the stands went crazy.
"That's three in a row Gryffindor's won!" Harry declared and rushed from the stands to celebrate on the field with Ginny.
The crowd parted when they saw Harry headed Ginny's way and cheered again when he gave her a twirling hug and kissed her, then Ginny kissed her broom. They heard Madame Hooch clearing her throat behind them.
"Pardon the interruption, but there's someone here who wishes to speak with Miss Weasley," she said.
A man stepped forward and extended his hand. "Good afternoon, Miss Weasley, you played a superb match."
"Thanks, it was fun," Ginny said and gave Dennis Creevey a high-five.
"My name is David Lattimore, I'm the head trainer for the Holyhead Harpies," he said.
The crowd around them quieted. "Th-the Harpies?" Ginny asked at a whisper.
"Yes, Gwenog Jones has heard all about your Quidditch play from the Daily Prophet and wanted me to come out and see a match. I must say, I'm impressed, and I'll tell Missus Jones as such," he said.
Ginny was speechless. The captain of the Holyhead Harpies is interested in me?
That night, Harry received a letter from Ginny.
Harry love-
I'm not angry that you had to leave suddenly, you're with the Aurors now, that stuff happens, right? Anyway, after you left, Mr. Lattimore left me a package that I believe to be information for someone interested in joining the team! It contained a booklet with a short history of the Harpies, a schedule of a typical season, the salary and benefits of a Harpies team member, a questionnaire to gage interest in the team, and an autographed picture of the team. I'll bring it with me Saturday for you to look at. I know that it's too soon to be even thinking of it, but can you imagine me, Ginny Weasley, playing for the Harpies?
All my love, as always
Ginny
April 10, 1999 7:30 a.m.
From their bed, Ron and Hermione listened to the bell towers from Gringotts strike seven times. Today was the first anniversary of the defeat of Voldemort. In the distance, the bells from the Ministry of Magic could be heard. They held each other tighter through each strike of the bell.
"Coming with me to the cemetery this morning?" Hermione asked when the bells ended. Ministry employees were given an opportunity to visit the graves of family and friends that died at Hogwarts that fateful morning.
"Course I am," he said softly. "Harry's probably already there."
At Hogwarts, students who had family and friends buried at Hogwarts were excused from their first class to pay their respects at the cemetery. Everyone in the castle paused whatever they were doing in respectful silence when the Hogwarts bell towers struck 55 times for each who died that morning last year.
Hermione and Ron arrived at the Hogsmeade and started the walk toward the castle. From a distance, they saw the flags and streamers used for special events fluttering from the highest point of the castle. They were admitted through the gates and walked toward the school and were met by a large contingent of students and staff exiting the back doors. When the staff and students saw the two, they all stopped and applauded. Ginny broke from the crowd and tackled Ron in a hug.
"Let's go tell Fred hi," she said tearfully.
When the contingent rounded the castle corner, they spotted a solitary figure kneeling on the ground next the entrance of the cemetery, shoulders shaking, hands over his face.
"Harry!" Hermione called out and ran toward him. Ron and Ginny were on her heels. When they got to him, the sight tore at their hearts. Harry was crying so hard he was wheezing, his voice hoarse as he mumbled unintelligible through his sobs. Hermione knelt next to him, ready to cry herself. Harry grabbed her and drew her close, clutching her like a drowning man, fisting her shirt, his face on her neck, buried in her hair.
She rubbed small circles on his back, while softly assuring him with "it'll be all right love, come on, you need to breathe, that's it..." while wiping her own tears. Ron stood next to him and laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it in assurance. The crowd held a respectful distance from the three. How could they not? These three had fought the fight together all these years and endured the worst imaginable. Hermione's eyes caught McGonagall's and she gave a small nod. The headmistress led the procession through the cemetery gate. Ginny stopped, took Ron's hand and the two went to Fred's grave. Harry and Hermione watched the two.
"I couldn't even make it through the gate," Harry whispered and took a shuddering breath.
"We'll do it together," Hermione said, picked his glasses up from the ground, and helped him to his feet. She took a handkerchief from her cloak and gave it to him.
"Your hair smells like strawberries," he said with a sniff and wiped his eyes.
She nodded toward Ron and Ginny. "Come on, let's say hi to Fred."
April 25, 1999
Ron was having an extraordinarily bad day. Twice he had caught some kids trying to kip something from the shop, a shipment was now 3 days late, Hermione was going to be working late again, and the icing on the cake: Gringotts informed him that the galleons he deposited for the first week in April didn't match the deposit receipt. What?! Now they're telling me? It's the end of April! There must be some mistake, I can count after all! He balled up the letter and angrily tossed it against the wall. He closed the shop early and stormed back to his flat.
Hermione, on the other hand, was having a very good day. She was told that she'd be getting a raise effective May 1st and a publisher sent her a polite inquiry about her Centaur work. She glanced at her watch. Hmm, not too late, I should be able to whip something up for dinner, but I'll stop and get Ron's favorite Butterbeer.
She cheerfully waved to various passersby she knew along Diagon Alley and jogged up the stairs to Ron's flat. She opened the door and announced, "I'm here love, and you'll never guess what I found-" but stopped when she saw the ransacked kitchen and dining room. Thinking someone had broken in and that Ron may be hurt, she whipped out her wand and tiptoed to the living room. She crouched and peeked around the corner to see Ron take a swig of Firewhiskey and stuff a handful of crisps in his mouth and slouched in relief.
"What in the world is going on?" she asked.
"Nice of you to finally grace me with your presence and notice," he grumbled.
She paid his grumbling no mind, which only made him angrier, unknown to her. "Spring is the most important time for Centaurs, so I had to-"
Ron suddenly stood from his chair. "Stop it, would you? If you're not spending all your time with those nags, you're talking about them!" he snarled.
Hermione frowned. "What's got your wand in a knot? Are you drunk?"
"YOU!"
"Me? What did I do?" she asked.
He paced the room, clenching and clenching his fists, mumbling things she couldn't make out.
"Love, why don't you put the Fire Whiskey away, you're angry and not making sense and-"
He turned and stalked toward her, causing her to take a step back, unconsciously tightening her grip on her wand. Was he under a spell to make him act like this?
"YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER AND YOU'RE NOT MY WIFE SO STOP ACTING LIKE IT, YOU KNOW-IT-ALL LITTLE SWOT!" he shouted.
No, he was under no spell, and now she was angry, hurt and and admittedly little frightened at his sudden meanness. "I don't know what the hell happened to you today, but it's no reason to take it out on me! I won't stand for it!" she shouted, toe to toe with him.
"THEN GO, GET OUT!" he yelled.
"Fine, I will!" she hissed and apparated.
He picked up her satchel and threw it against the door. "You forgot your bag!"
Ian and Elizabeth were startled by the crack of apparation this late and looked out the back yard window. Hermione was crying, her face raised to the night sky. They hurried outside.
"Hermione, what's happened? Is it Ron?"
She nodded, sniffed and wiped her wet face. "He was so angry...don't know what...he was so horrible to me..." she babbled and they led her inside. They gave her time to compose herself and she told them the story. They were shocked.
"Is it going to be like this every time he has a bad day? I love him, but I won't live like that, I refuse to."
"You're right, no one should live like that," Elizabeth said, rubbing her back, not really knowing what to say.
"We are fond of the lad, and we know he loves you, but I just cannot get my brain wrapped around this kind of behavior, especially from him," Ian said.
The next morning, Ron was wakened by the alarm he forgot to turn off the night before. He was dizzy, felt like his head would split in two and when he fumbled for the alarm, the memory of last night hit him.
"Hermione?" he called out cautiously.
He stood, swayed and rushed into the dining room. He picked up the satchel he had thrown, its contents scattered. Hermione's owl, Marron, was preening on the balcony and softly hooted when he came to her. He took the letter and his heart fell to his stomach when he saw Hermione's ring resting in the bottom fold. A tear ran down his cheek when he read her words.
Ron-
You're right about two things: I'm not your mother, and as far as the wife issue goes, you can have the ring back. You hurt me Ron, you frightened me. I never thought you would ever make me feel that way. Is it going to be like that every time you get angry? I don't know, but I won't live that that. No one should have to. I love you and I always will. Send me an owl and let me know a good time to come and get my things from the flat. I wish you only the best.
Hermione
He clutched her satchel to his chest, her ring in his hand, shaking his head in disbelief when he saw a picture on the floor. It was a brochure from a dress shop that had a picture of a wedding gown circled and her writing that happily declared, "I found it!"