Chapter 14

A quarter of an hour later, Hermione found Ron sitting on the bench of a lonely picnic table under the protective boughs of a tree. With his elbows propped on his knees and his hands clasped tightly before him, he sat staring absently at the ground. She approached him slowly until she was standing a mere foot away from him. Although he didn't look up at her, she knew he was aware of her presence.

She shifted nervously, and prepared herself for the task at hand. Apologizing was never her strong suit.

"Ron, I'm sorry about all that… coming down the aisle and whatnot. I had no right to ask you where you slept last night. And I do agree with you… It probably wouldn't have been a very good idea for us to be in bed together even if it was just to sleep."

The unmistakable insecurity in her voice caused a knot to form in his throat, but still he said nothing in response to her awkward apology.

She became more agitated at his continued silence. "We should really be meeting up with Ginny and Harry soon for the introductions."

She held her breath and tentatively reached out her hand to just within his view as if to invite him to go with her. He regarded it for a moment. Her hand was so small and fragile. He became entranced by the anxious play of her delicate fingers.

Keeping his head bowed, he reached up and took the proffered hand in both of his. Not fully aware of what he was doing, he slowly began to run his thumbs back and forth over the soft knuckles as if to memorize the feel of them.

Hermione sucked in a slow breath as tendrils of nervous pleasure spiraled their way through her chest. Oh Gods, what his touch did to her. Unable to stave off temptation, the wayward fingers of her other hand reached up and began to trace over the full rich red hair before her.

Trying to collect some semblance of control, she cleared her throat lightly, and uttered just above a whisper. "Ron."

After several long seconds, he raised his face to hers causing her rebellious hand to brush lightly along his jaw. Her breath hitched at the unexpected intimacy, and she fought to push back the rising need his touch had instigated in her.

As she gazed down at him, he saw her bottom lip quiver slightly before she unconsciously pulled it into her mouth, and dragged it through her teeth. It took everything he had in him in that moment not to jump up, and wrap her in a tight in embrace.

Ron was quickly becoming overwhelmed by the intense feelings bombarding his senses. It was dizzying. It was too much, and he had to escape it. Standing abruptly, he dropped her hand and moved off putting his back to her so he could compose himself.

"Ron?" she whispered.

"We can't do this 'Mione. Not now. It's Harry and Gin's day."

"When do you think we can… do this?" There was nothing but desperate sincerity in her voice.

"I don't know."

"Tomorrow?" she pleaded.

"I said I don't know." He snapped in frustration.

She jumped a little shocked by his tone.

"Right." Her voice trembled dangerously.

After a moment, he heaved a sigh, and turned to apologize for his shortness but she was already half way across the lawn having fled from him.

"Sod it! Bloody hell!" He growled.

He paced a little running his hands roughly through his hair. Suddenly, a voice cut through his jumbled thoughts.

"Oi Ron, I know I shouldn't have but it was absolutely perfect." Colin called to him as he approached.

Ron shook his head to clear his mind, and tried to give his attention to his nearing friend.

"What was?"

Colin handed him a small picture. It was a Wizarding photo of him and Hermione at the picnic table.

"Now this was just a quick, rough development. I can pick up a lot more of the details when I get back to my studio." Colin supplied.

In the photo, Ron was seated holding Hermione's small hand in both of his, and she was staring intently down at him.

He couldn't pull his eyes away from the unguarded look on her face. It was one of complete and unfettered love. Then tentatively, she reached up and laced her fingers lightly through his hair. He hadn't realized she'd done that.

She mouthed his name, and after a moment, the photo version of him looked up at her and her fingertips danced lightly across his jaw. The picture froze, and then started to replay itself.

The look on his face mirrored hers. Was he really that obvious? Ron's chest seized, and his eyes stung painfully. He couldn't suppress the tidal wave of emotion washing over him.

Seeing the deep flush that had overtaken Ron's features, Colin grew worried.

"You're not angry, are you Ron? I'm really sorry mate. It was just such a beautiful moment. I couldn't help myself."

Colin's voice shook Ron from his aching euphoria.

"Make me a copy." He mumbled.

"What?"

Ron watched the photo replay one last time, and then reluctantly handed it back to Colin.

"I said make me a copy." He turned away, and jamming his hands into his pockets, wandered toward the tent.

"Sure." Colin answered quietly, shocked by the emotion pouring off of his friend.

Ron's thoughts consumed him. He wanted to pretend he didn't know her. That she'd changed so drastically over the past three years that she was unrecognizable to him now. But that simply wasn't the case. The image he saw in the photo told another story. Her heart hadn't changed. No more than his had.

The picture made everything so clear. It captured all that was good about them: their love, their devotion, and their passion.

Suddenly, he heard a voice trying to break through. He looked up to find Harry, Ginny, and Hermione standing by the entrance to the tent. Although Hermione was looking down carefully avoiding his searching gaze, her pensive expression gave away her quiet suffering.

"You ready mate? George and Fred are about to announce us." Harry called to him.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm ready."

"Hermione?" Harry murmured to her softly.

She was staring off at nothing uncharacteristically preoccupied.

"Hmm?" She answered, raising her eyes fleetingly from the ground.

"You ready?" Harry asked, growing more and more concerned by her distracted state.

She nodded and lowered her head back down.

Harry turned an angry glare at Ron - clearly, something had happened - but Ron just ignored him choosing instead to focus solely on Hermione.

Seeing their pain, Ginny pulled Harry away in order to allow the fighting couple a moment alone.

"Hermione, listen…" He began nervously. "Whatever just… I mean…"

Suddenly, Fred's voice could be heard making the introductions, and calling for the Maid of Honour.

"I understand Ron." She muttered quietly before escaping into the tent.

"No, you don't." He answered to no one in particular.

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It was well after dinner, and Ron and Hermione sat at the head table in utter silence with two empty chairs between them. Harry and Ginny were off wandering from table to table, chatting with various guests, leaving the two to their own devices.

Hermione had her head leaned against her fist, and was drawing invisible circles and squares on the tablecloth with her dessert fork while Ron clasped his hands tightly together and mindlessly allowed his thumbs to duel and fight for dominance. The silence was torturous, and beyond awkward.

Every minute or so, Hermione would catch Ron nervously glancing over at her. The more he fidgeted, the darker her mood grew.

'If he doesn't want to be sitting here with me, he should just bugger off.' She thought morosely.

"Hermione?"

Surprised, she looked over at Ron who seemed just as startled by the break in their uncomfortable silence. Realizing it wasn't him that spoke, she looked the other way to find Charlie standing at her side.

"Yes, Charlie." She smiled tightly.

He shifted anxiously from one foot to the next. "May I have this dance?"

She glanced over to Ron searching for a reason to stay only to find him glaring a hole through the table in front of him and turning a frightening shade of red.

She quickly turned back, and offered Charlie her hand. "I'd love to."

She needed some distance from the unrelenting stress of sitting so close to him, and yet being so far away at the same time. Without a backward glance, she stood and moved slowly to the dance floor. Hermione stepped into Charlie's waiting arms, and they began to sway back and forth.

She didn't really feel like chatting, and knew Charlie would be good enough to just let her be. She rested her chin on his shoulder, and allowed her mind to wander. Although it wasn't Ron, it still felt nice to be held. Charlie was at least two inches shorter than Ron but if she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend it was his arm snugly wrapped around her, and his hand holding hers to his chest. She didn't notice Charlie's restless, nervous manner.

Charlie, for his part, was stiff with apprehension working up the courage to broach a truly awful subject. He had always thought of himself as an accepting, open-minded human being, but he was ashamed to admit that the last day and a half had proven him to be otherwise. Truth be told, the initial disgust only lasted an hour at most. The rest of the time he spent beating himself up for his reaction and hiding in shaming. He was truly embarrassed, and felt the need to atone for his behaviour.

Finally, he cleared his throat to get his dance partner's attention. Hermione lifted her head from his shoulder, and offered him a glazed expression.

"Hermione, I… I just want to apologize… I mean I've never…" He stopped himself before he came across as a complete wanker.

Taking a breath, he started over. "I've never been the judgmental type. I really don't know what came over me. Your friend seems like a really nice bloke. I was just a little gobsmacked by Percy's… well, you know. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm really sorry for being the world's biggest prat."

She tensed at his clumsy attempt at an apology.

"First off Charlie, there's only one man who holds that title, and I have the grave misfortune of being in love with the stupid berk. Second, you're apologizing to the wrong person."

He looked down and nodded. "I know, I know… I just felt since he's your friend, and you're like family to me, I really wanted to explain myself to you and say I was sorry."

"Well, I appreciate that, Charlie. I really do, but please try to talk to him… to both of them. I know it would really go a long way with Percy if you made the effort with Roberto."

He nodded again, and offered her a meek smile. He then looked over her shoulder at something that caught his eye, and a gentle smirk graced his lips.

"So…" He started. "You're still in love with our little Ronniekins, are you?"

She rolled her eyes but laughed despite herself. "Not that it matters. I've stuffed things up royally with him."

"Hermione, you could grow a second head and he'd still be in love with you. Trust me, he just needs some time. You know how stubborn he is."

She felt herself tearing up again, and only nodded in response before placing her chin back on his shoulder.

The rest of the dance continued on in silence as both considered the difficult evening that lay ahead.

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Ron was thoroughly frustrated. He felt a burning envy slowly soaking into every fiber of his being as he watched his older, and very single brother holding the woman he loved more than life itself. He'd been working himself up to finally talking with her when the stupid git had come over and asked her to dance.

Now, she had her chin perched on his shoulder, and her eyes were gently closed, almost as if she were sleeping. She looked so peaceful, so content. Ron was finally able to admit to himself that he wanted to be the only one who could give her that kind of secure happiness.

Harry was right. If he didn't get over his bruised ego and fast, she was going to leave or worse find someone else, and he knew without a doubt that he wouldn't survive it this time.

Noticing his glass was empty Ron stood abruptly to make his way to the bar. He would need something much stronger than wine if he was going to find the stones to have it out with her, and ultimately work things through.

As he skirted along the edge of the dance floor, Ron made eye contact with his brother and gave him what could only be deemed as a death glare - a look that clearly threatened dismemberment if Charlie decided to become anymore familiar with the woman in his arms than he already was.

Once at the bar, Ron ordered a Firewhiskey. As the bartender handed it over, he knocked the amber liquid back quickly, and ordered a second with a pint on the side. The bartender eyed him warily but filled his request.

Taking a bit more time with the second shot, Ron poured it slowly but steadily down his throat.

"Going at it a little hard, don't you think?"

He spun around to find Roberto standing beside him but looking out at the dance floor. Ron only grunted in response before taking a swig from his pint.

They both watched Hermione finish her dance with Charlie, and then wander back to her seat. She picked up her discarded fork, leaned on her hand, and restarted her etching on the tablecloth.

"You see that?" Roberto began tersely.

"What?"

"That." He answered angrily, gesturing toward Hermione. "That is the girl I met three years ago. It took me a full year to get her to go out and have fun, and another full year to convince her to go on a date. And before you say anything, I don't regret in the least pushing her to see other men. You were a bastard in my eyes then for making such a beautiful woman so unhappy, and you deserved to lose her."

Ron's jaw clenched at the overt aggression in Roberto's voice.

"Anyway, as I was saying, what took me two full years to accomplish, you have completely ruined in a day. I have to hand it to you Ronald, you are truly a master."

"Oh, sod off!" Ron growled. "You have no idea what I went through when she left."

"So, tell me! Tell me how bad it was. Did you wait a whole week before moving on? Or did you make your way to your ex's house that same night?"

"I nearly killed myself you prick!" Ron shouted.

Roberto was stunned, his eyes wide with shock. "Excuse me?" he gasped out.

"Nothing." Ron jammed his hands in his pockets, and looked down to the ground in grim silence.

The tension between them was palpable.

"Ronald, I… I didn't…"

"Three months after she left, I realized she wasn't coming back. I didn't see the point in… Obviously, I stopped myself… No one knows, and I'd like to keep it that way." Ron, still maintaining a strong focus on the ground, finished pointedly through a trembling voice.

Roberto could only nod dumbly.

"I need some air. Excuse me." Ron turned and left in a rush, making a beeline for the mouth of the tent.

What would he say to Hermione? Roberto knew she'd already spotted them talking. She'd want a report. He couldn't tell her that Ron nearly… That he…

That would just make matters worse. She already felt horrible for lying to Ron and stringing him along. This would cause her to break down completely.

Suddenly, the sound of someone clearing their throat pulled Roberto from his thoughts.

He turned his head and saw that Charlie Weasley was standing right beside him. His night had just gone from bad to impossibly worse.