A couple of days late posting, sorry! (It is a slightly longer chapter though!) Had a great time at London Film and Comic Con last weekend - met Michael Gambon (Dumbledore), David Bradley (Mr Filch) and some other movie stars, as well as spending a small fortune on more HP merch, but I have been poorly since then with a nasty cold (or the plague :p) so have only just got this chapter edited.
Thanks as always for your feedback...it's always most welcome :)
Disclaimer: Not JK Rowling, just a fan loving her magical world!
Chapter Thirteen
Lunch with Ginny the next day had gone, well, a lot better than I had expected. Even with Ginny being her usual exuberant and chatty self. The moment the Potter's had stepped from the floo, she'd rushed towards her brother and flung her arms around him. Ron had stiffened at first, but then relaxed into the hug and smiled. And then she slapped his upper arm.
"You little twerp, putting us through all that. I can't believe you've been playing farmers all this time." She slapped him again.
Ron backed off, rubbing his arm with such a wounded expression before giving me a rather puzzled look.
"Don't worry," I laughed. "You're like this all the time. She loves you really."
"Oh," he nodded, a smile forming on his lips. "In that case, nice to you see you too, prat!" He laughed as he tugged on the end of her braid and she squealed at him.
And just like that, the pair of them relaxed around one another, joking back and forth, chatting away and seemed completely comfortable with each other. Harry smiled at me, obviously pleased this was going well. And, whilst I was thrilled Ron was so relaxed with his sister, an insane part of me was jealous too. Jealous at how easy their relationship had been to pick up again. Jealous even that both of the children were now clamouring for his attention and affection. Rose seemed to have forgiven her daddy and almost worshipped him as much as her brother. It seemed all he'd had to do was apologise to her, reassure her he wasn't leaving again and all the resentment and sadness was gone.
So, why were things so difficult for us? Why did I still feel so…apprehensive and shy around him? We were friendly and we chatted, but we seemed more like friends than a husband and wife. Was that why? Because we had an intimate history together? Because I knew him probably better than anyone else? Was he embarrassed to realise how well I knew him? The things we'd shared and everything? Was that what made it difficult for us? I was still a little upset that he hadn't remembered much about us, about our love for one another, our times together or the way he felt about me. And yet, I felt as though I had to put on a smile for everyone and make out everything was perfectly fine now – a happy ever after fairytale ending. I found myself repeating over and over how it was just going to take time for things to return to normal, though, I was starting to wonder whether that fact only applied to the two of us. Apparently it was easy with everyone else.
I knew I should just be grateful that he was here. That he was alive and we got a second chance at happiness. And I was, I really was. Having my husband home again, having my children's father back was beyond anything I had ever hoped for. I had another shot at my happily ever after. But, getting there wasn't easy, not only for him. But myself. I missed him, as stupid as that sounded when he was living under the same roof once more. But, I missed his hugs and his touch. I missed those little kisses in passing and the freedom to do that. And it hurt, it really did hurt that I felt as though I couldn't just give him a hug or a playful kiss. And being alone in that bedroom was pure torture. He was my husband, but I don't think we'd been so close and yet so far away from one another since that diabolical sixth year of school where we'd barely spoken to one another for four months.
We had taken a picnic lunch to the place Ron had suggested the day before and it really was lovely. The weather had been kind – sunny with a gentle breeze. The adults had sprawled out on the blanket, chatting and relaxing whilst the children played in the magically cordoned off area where they couldn't get themselves into trouble. Not that the children were aware of it. If they got too close to the edge of the magic, it just compelled them to turn around and go the other way. At least we knew they were safe.
"So, how about Mum and Dad?" Ginny dared ask, popping another strawberry into her mouth.
Ron shrugged. "She wrote to me yesterday, Mum did. She asked the same thing, well amongst other stuff. I replied to her, but said I didn't know about seeing them yet."
"Why? You've been fine with me! And she wants to see you terribly…she's been through so much these last few years. She's our Mum, Ron. And…"
"I know, but she's going to get really emotional and stuff, isn't she?" He grimaced. "And…I don't know if I can handle that yet. I will see her soon, I promise, just…give me a few more days."
Ginny nodded, but wouldn't let it go. "So, how about next weekend then?" She wondered. "We could have dinner, the six of us?"
"Ginny," Ron whined, sounding very much like his teenage self.
"Yes," she mimicked back.
He laughed at her, tugged on her braid and then jumped up suddenly, chasing after the kids and making them all scream and Ginny chased after her brother. They led them down to the stream and I could hear squeals of laughter followed by splashes.
I sighed and rolled onto my stomach, picking a daisy from the meadow and slowly plucked the petals off. An old childish Muggle rhyme came to mind, 'he loves me, he loves me not', and I spoke the words in my head as another petal came off in my fingers.
"What's up?" Harry asked, watching me.
"Nothing," I smiled at him. "It's been a lovely afternoon."
"It has. But you've not been here for all of it. I've been watching you, you keep drifting away."
"Do I?" I worried, picking off a couple more petals.
"I don't think they noticed. Too busy catching up and…sibling stuff. They seem to be getting on really well." He looked towards the clump of tree's that was hiding the stream from our view.
"Yeah," I sighed.
"Is that it?" He wondered.
"Is that what?" I dropped another petal into the grass.
"Are you, maybe…you know…" Harry groaned and pulled his glasses off to wipe them on his T-shirt.
"Am I maybe what?" I looked up at him, squinting through the sun.
"Jealous maybe? You know, because they're getting on so well and slipped straight back into their relationship so easily and…"
"No," I snapped.
"Hermione…"
I groaned and flipped onto my back, tossing the half torn apart daisy aside and shielded my eyes from the sun with my arm. "I just…I wish it was as easy for me and him, you know? Everything is still so tentative around one another. I feel like I'm walking on eggshells all the time, terrified I'll do or say something wrong and he'll scurry back to that farm and hide. I want my husband, Harry. Not just a friend. I want the man I love and married."
"I know you do," He nudged my ankle with his foot. "I know you're sick of hearing this, but…be patient."
"I know that," I snapped at him and then instantly regretted it. "Sorry," I mumbled. "It's just…" I sighed and turned to look at him, propping myself up on my elbow. "How the hell can he remember stupid stuff like Quidditch scores and league tables, or the taste of Butter beer. Yet he can't remember his kids, or me…his wife? The one person he's probably closest to. And now seems totally uncomfortable with."
"Maybe because you are too close. You two share a…well, a deep bond, something special." he blushed a little and fiddled with his glasses again. "I mean, you know Ron – anything personal and he gets embarrassed about it. Perhaps the more personal, the harder it is for him to remember? I mean, you're different from everyone else. What you two have…"
"What we had," I pouted.
"And will get back," he retorted. "It's just very different…there's an intimacy between the two of you that I'm not sure even Ginny and I understand. I mean…obviously she and I love one another deeply and we're close and, well, yeah," he coughed to hide his embarrassment. "But you and Ron, you had…this kind of epic romance thing. I mean, you two have always had an intense relationship, even before you acted on those romantic feelings that had been smouldering away for years – why should this be any different? You're both very passionate and intense people and...as soon as he remembers..."
"And what if he never does?"
"He will," he replied confidently.
I raised my eyebrows, doubting his statement.
"He will Hermione. I I have to smack it into him, he'll remember eventually and you can continue your epic love or whatever it is. I prom…" He broke off as we heard a huge splash come from the stream, followed by a sharp scream, laughter and then tears.
I groaned as I sat up, peering into the trees where they had disappeared to. "I bet that's my son." I muttered.
Harry laughed. "Could be one of mine." He got up on his knees, about to go see what was going on when Ron appeared from the trees, with a wet, soggy child in his arms.
"Sorry! Hugo fell in," he called, hurrying towards us.
I shot Harry an 'I told you so' look, before getting up and going to rescue my son. He was at least smiling again by the time I met them. "Now what did you do?" I asked.
"Chasing fwogs!" he told me, a little pout on his bottom lip. "Fell off wock," he added.
I shook my head as Ron grinned sheepishly. "Trust you," I sighed. "Did you hurt yourself?" I wondered, checking him over for any sign of injury.
Hugo shook his head.
"Think the cold water just took him by surprise," Ron answered. "And then he got upset cause the other kids laughed at him." He smiled reassuringly at his son, before setting him on his feet.
"Come on then, let's get you dry." I led them back to the blanket where I rummaged in my bag which contained everything you could possibly need for an afternoon out with children. Yet it was barely bigger than a clutch bag. I bet Wizard's could make a fortune marketing this to the Muggles, I thought drolly.
Within a couple of minutes, I had him completely dry using magic and then dressed in clean clothes. I hadn't finished tying his laces before he was itching to run off again. "And no more chasing frogs!" I warned him, sending him off with a pat on his bottom.
"You're amazing." Ron grinned at me. "Totally brilliant," he added in an awed voice, before chasing after his son.
"See?" Harry asked once they were clear of earshot. "You'll get it all back," he nodded knowingly.
Ron's anxiety increased daily throughout that week, anticipating dinner with his parents that Ginny had insisted on arranging. I kept telling him it would be fine, that his parents just loved him and were simply grateful to have him home safely. He had nothing to worry about. Although I knew that didn't prevent him from working himself up about it.
Besides some lame memory of a Quidditch match his brother, Bill, had taken him to just before he started his first year at Hogwarts, there had been no further breakthrough with his memory. At least nothing he told me about. I suspected that may be because he was too anxious about this weekend.
Still, the children kept him as distracted as possible. Since Rosie had come around, they both demanded his attention and he was lapping it up. He spent every moment he could with them, trying to divide his time equally – as though he was making up for the lost years. Personally, I thought he was spoiling them – giving in to their every whim and incapable of uttering a cross word or reprimand them for anything. Not that I said anything – I could hardly deny him this time with his kids. And, I admit, it was a delight to see the three of them together, playing imaginary games in the garden, piled together to read a book or enjoying tea parties with Rose and flying dragons with Hugo.
And yet, my heart ached a little too. I kept telling myself that I was being stupid, but...I felt a little excluded by the three of them. Daddy was new and exciting – a novelty right now and he didn't know how to say no to them, or he just didn't want to. Mummy was strict and bossy and boring in comparison. The children had been my salvation these past couple of years and now they had all but cast me adrift on a tide of my own conflicted emotions.
Ron and I seemed to have reached a stale mate of sorts. We were friendly and chatted over meals, but it sort of felt like I had a lodger in the house. Everything about him was so familiar to me, and yet he was almost like a stranger as well. After the children were in bed at night, he'd often go to his room and I felt so alone. I was beginning to think he was only staying for the sake of the children.
Neither one of us seemed prepared to talk about things. At least, not about us…or what we wanted. Damnit! We were absurd teenagers back at Hogwarts all over again – not daring to say how we really felt about each other or what we really wanted for fear of being rejected and hurt.
But I knew one thing. Someone was going to have to say or do something, otherwise I feared the pair of us as a couple were completely doomed.
"Are you ready?" I asked Ron on Saturday evening. We were stood in the front room together, preparing to leave for his parents house.
Nervously he fiddled with his clothes again and straightened his hair, stalling for time. "The kids will be alright, yeah?" he asked me for the third time.
"Perfectly fine. My parents love having them over and they like being there." I smiled. "But, we can pick them up really early tomorrow, okay? I promised Rose we would anyway." I added.
Ron nodded and inhaled deeply.
"Come on then." I picked up my bag. "The sooner we get there, the sooner it will be done and you'll realise there was nothing to worry about."
He nodded and fixed a smile on his face that I knew was for my benefit. Then, I held my hand out for him.
"Probably easier if I apparate us both there," I explained. He took my hand, I relished in the touch of his warm skin on mine as I gave him a short smile. A quick spin, a flick of my wand and a second later we landed gracefully in the paddock opposite the house. Ron let go of my hand the instant we landed and I looked up at him. "Remember it?" I asked him, as he stood gazing up and down at the house.
"Yeah, kinda. Well, maybe…it looks exactly as it did in my dream anyway." He smiled at me.
"Come on then." I took a step towards the house where I could hear other voices and laughter. I assumed Molly must have the wireless on again whilst she was cooking. She did that a lot these days, always complaining the house was far too quiet since the children all left home.
Before we made it to the front door, Ginny came bounding down the few steps, slamming the door behind her as she rushed to meet us. "Wow, am I glad you didn't use the floo network, was hoping I'd catch you before you went in." She stood in front of us, wringing her hands with a look of worry on her face.
"Ginny, what's wrong?" I wondered, glancing towards the house. I saw someone walk past the window and then another person. "Is someone else here?" I asked.
She sighed and shook her head sorrowfully. "I'm so sorry Ron. Mum, she got the wrong end of the stick when I talked to her about this. I mean, her heart is in the right place, but…she just didn't think."
"What's she done?" I asked, noticing the smile on Ron's face quickly dropping as he stared at his sister anxiously.
"Invited everyone…and I mean everyone," she groaned.
"Everyone?" I yelped.
Ginny nodded. "The entire family. Brothers, their wives, the kids. Even Charlie is back from Romania tonight. It's, well…it's a welcome home party apparently," she shrugged helplessly. "I'm so sorry Ron, I wanted it to be nice and quiet for you, just the six of us. Mum just got over excited."
He stared at his sister in silence as though she was winding him up.
"Ron?" I spoke his name gently.
"I can't," he muttered and took a step backwards. "I can't go in there."
"But…your Mum?"
"I can't do it Hermione," he snapped at me. "I want to go home."
"Mum will be so disappointed," Ginny added sadly. Someone inside laughed rather loudly then and Ron flinched, his eyes going wide.
He shook his head at his sister. "I'm sorry, I can't deal with everyone yet."
"Oh, of course you can!" She snapped at him then, losing patience already – she'd always lacked patience. "It's just your family, not a bunch of Death Eaters you know. They're not going to hurt you. It's only us, family."
"I know that. But…it's just, it's too much Ginny." He hissed under his breath.
"I'll be right here with you," I reminded him.
"You know you'll break Mum's heart if you go home now. I know she messed up, but she just got too excited about her son coming home. Can't you understand that?" Ginny argued with him in a way I had been too afraid to do since I'd brought him home.
"Ginny…" he grumbled.
"Just come inside, just for a little while," she softened her voice. "Everyone understands. They'll be fine."
"Come on Ron, you've come this far. At least go inside and say hello to everyone, stay for a drink or something and then, if you really can't deal with it, we'll leave. Okay?"
He huffed and sulked as he folded his arms.
"Never thought you were a coward!" Ginny shot at him.
"I'm not!" he shot back furiously. "Fine, okay. We'll go in. And all these people I don't know will crowd me and it will be a nightmare and it's all your fault." He pointed his finger at his sister accusingly.
"They won't," she assured him. "I told them all to give you space. Come on." She grabbed his arm and began to drag him towards the door.
"You'll be fine," I patted his shoulder and gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile.
The moment the door opened and Ginny pulled him inside, the room went deathly silent as every head turned to look at him. Ron stood there like a deer caught in headlights and beginning with his ears, his face turned slowly red from all the attention. If Ginny hadn't had a tight grip on his arm and I wasn't standing behind him, I think he'd have made a run for it.
Slowly, the faces of his family broke into huge smiles and his Mum burst into silent tears in the corner of the kitchen.
I wondered if perhaps Ginny had warned everyone off too much, as no one moved for a few moments. Until his dad stepped forwards and held his hand out to him. "Welcome home son, welcome home," he grinned, about to shake hands, but then thought better of it and hugged his son gently, in that awkward way that grown men hug. "It's so good to see you again," he muttered as he squeezed Ron once and then took a step back, an elated grin still on his weathered face.
"You too Dad," he murmured, giving him a fleeting smile.
Arthur patted him on the back and led him a little further into the room. A sudden loud cry from his Mother startled him though and then she barrelled into him as she flung her arms around his neck, sobbing. "Oh Ronnie, I can't believe you're here. My boy, my baby boy." She sobbed as she clung to him.
Ron stiffened as he looked to me for help whilst patting her back most awkwardly. It was obvious he didn't know what to do.
"Mum," Ginny hissed, "give him some room to breathe!" she reminded her.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she backed away and wiped her eyes. "I'm just…I can't believe you're here. I'm so happy you're safe and you're home. We got you back." She went to hug him again.
"I'm here Mum, I'm here," he murmured to her as he hugged her back tentatively.
"Come on Molly, love. Let's just go check on dinner, shall we?" Arthur took her hand and gently led her away. "Ron's not going anywhere yet, are you son?" He looked over his shoulder at Ron and gave a hopeful smile.
"Erm, no," he shook his head, unable to disappoint them.
The moment they had departed, another red head was suddenly in front of him. "Sorry about Mum," he rolled his eyes. "We tried to reign her in, but you know. Or you probably don't actually," he laughed and pounded him on the back good naturedly. "But, you'll soon remember how…excitable she can get." he sighed. "Good to have you back though little bother. Not half as fun to wind the others up as it is you."
"George?" he asked.
"Yep, that's me? What gave it away? I bet it's the damn ear, right?" He pointed to the lack of his left ear.
Ron gawped at him, although he had seen photos, I don't think he realised he actually had lost his ear, there was just a hole in the side of his head. He glanced back at me, silently asking me why I'd never told him.
George laughed. "Yeah, bet Hermione never told you about that. Never mind, rather interesting story. I'll erm, tell you some other time," he coughed as he caught my eye. I was still avoiding any topics to do with the war as best I could.
Ron chuckled half heartedly, but still looked concerned about his brother's missing ear. I should have warned him, I kicked myself. But then I hadn't expected him to be here, so it wasn't really my fault.
After that, the rest of his brothers all shook his hand, one by one. They didn't crowd him as Ginny had promised, but they came to him one by one as they introduced themselves, welcomed him home and introduced their wives again. All except Charlie.
"I prefer my dragons, see," he chuckled. "Not got time for a woman with them to deal with. Mind you, think sometimes a woman's bite is worse than a dragon, eh?" Charlie nudged Ron.
Ron blushed, but didn't answer his question I was happy to note.
"Hugo will be disappointed he missed you," I added, standing reassuringly beside Ron.
"Yeah, where is the little rugrat? I had some new tales for him."
"At my parents," I replied. "We erm…well we didn't realise everyone would be here. Thought it was going to be a quiet dinner," I whispered to him as Molly was busy bringing out plate after plate of food.
"Yeah, Ginny said Mum went over the top," he sighed. "Still, never mind Ron, had to meet us all sooner or later. We're not that bad, really…though perhaps a good job you can't remember some of the mean stunts Bill and I played on you as a kid." he laughed loudly in his deep booming voice. "Mind you, we weren't half as bad as the twins," he added and patted his shoulder on his way to steal some of the food being laid out. I caught Molly smacking his hand and whispering something about saving those for Ronnie.
Rather than the quiet, reserved sit down dinner I'd thought we were attending, Molly had prepared a huge buffet, the table was groaning under the weight of all the food already and yet she was still bringing more out.
"How's it going?" Harry found us and hid a pumpkin pasty behind his back. I raised my eyebrows at him. "Yeah, don't worry…she already caught me and told me off. Apparently Ron is supposed to have first pick." He rolled his eyes as he lifted the pasty and took a bite. "So, how you doing?" He asked his friend through a mouthful of food.
Giving the boys chance to talk, I touched Ron's back gently as I left him in the capable hands of Harry. I'd just spied Fleur in the lounge and wanted to apologise for our son's behaviour at her house the other week. Only we then got trading tales about our children and opinions on how best to deal with them, before she asked me about Ron and how things were. I lost track of time as I tried to explain how I felt, until Ginny nudged me.
"I think maybe Ron could do with rescuing," she whispered to me. I looked up and followed her gaze. Harry had been corralled into a conversation with Arthur, no doubt about work. Whilst Ron had been penned into a corner by his mother. I could hear her voice over everyone else's, trying to push more food on him.
"I made all your favourites Ron," she told him, looking down at the rather empty plate he was holding. "Hermione said your appetite was just the same, but you do look skinny to me." She hugged his shoulders. "So, look, I have sausages, pumpkin pasties, some sausage rolls. We have butterbeer, would you like a butterbeer? I can make you a bacon sandwich if you prefer, I know you really liked those. Oh, and I made you some cauldron cakes…or there's…
I groaned under my breath. I knew she meant well, she was just the mothering sort. Only, Ron looked as though he was being smothered by her. "You go get him and I'll distract Mum," Ginny shoved me towards him.
"Mum, this is fine, really." I heard him tell her politely and offer her a smile.
"Mum, did Lily leave her unicorn here again the other day?" Ginny touched Molly's arm as she spun around to face her. "We can't find it anywhere, and getting her to sleep at night has been a nightmare without it," she sighed over dramatically.
"Her unicorn? I haven't seen it. love. But, we can have a look." She followed Ginny into the lounge, saying something about her playing behind the sofa in there.
"Hey, you okay?" I sidled over to Ron once the coast was clear. He looked up at me from his half eaten chicken sandwich.
"Yeah," he sighed. "Mum's a bit much though." He shrugged and set his plate down.
"Need a break?" I asked, taking the left over sausage roll from his plate and nibbling at it. "We could go upstairs for a bit, find your old room? That might jolt some memories, or something?" I suggested.
"Sounds good," he nodded eagerly, wanting to escape all the attention. Only half way to the stairs, we were stopped by an inquisitive little boy.
"Are you a ghost?" He asked Ron.
"Huh?" He asked his nephew. "A ghost?" He looked to me and frowned.
"Freddie," I laughed at the seven year old. "What in Merlin's beard are you…"
"Yeah, you know," he continued. "Like…when dead people turn into ghosts. Are you one?"
Ron chuckled lightly, finding the kid amusing. "Nah buddy, just a regular person."
"Oh….but my daddy said you died, like my Uncle Fred and you went to heaven. But now you're here. So, I thought maybe you was ghost?" He looked puzzled as he tilted his head to the side and waited for an answer.
"Nope. Still just a regular person. I didn't really die," he whispered to him.
"Oh…was you pretending?" he whispered back.
Ron just laughed.
"Freddie! Are you bothering your Uncle Ron?" Angelina came to save us from the mischief maker.
"No Mummy," he shook his head. "I was just checking, and he's not a ghost!" He told her matter-of-factly as he wandered back towards the food on the table.
"Great, thanks for that." She frowned and shook her head, watching her son head towards the kitchen. "And no more of that chocolate cake young man!" she warned her son. "I'm sorry," she turned back to Ron. "He's a bit confused about...all this," she waved her hand in the air. "And he likes to know everything," she sighed.
"Don't worry about it. He was sort of amusing," Ron replied.
Angelina nodded thoughtfully and then smiled at Ron, her old school team mate who was now her brother-in-law. "So…you don't remember any of our school Quidditch matches together then?"
"Erm, no. Not really. " He shook his head.
"Good," she laughed. "Because…the year I was captain, I was a bit of a bitch. Would hate for you to remember me like that," she chuckled.
Ron smiled at her. "I'm sure you weren't that bad."
"Nah, I was much worse!" she laughed. "Right Hermi…" she drifted off, peering around the wall into the kitchen, "Freddie! No!" she suddenly shouted and was inching away. "Sorry, have to sort him out." She darted off, just as Fred managed to pull an entire cake off the table and onto his own head. Angelina could be heard shouting at him as we made our way towards the stairs.
"Hey! Where you two sneaking off to?" George asked, nonplussed about his son currently getting a telling off. I suppose when you had Fred for a child, it was a common occurrence hearing him in trouble.
"I was just going to show him around the house. See if he can remember anything." I told him.
"Oh yeah," George waggled his eyebrows knowingly. "Like the last time we were all here together for a party, and the two of you disappeared?" he teased. "Could bloody hear the pair of you a mile away!" He laughed loudly and the tips of Ron's ears turned red again.
"George!" I slapped him, pushing Ron towards the stairs away from him, though quietly adding to myself that a chance would be a fine thing.
Ron had gone quiet as we slowly climbed the stairs of his childhood home. I could tell what George had said had embarrassed him, heck, it embarrassed me too. But with Ron, any suggestion that he and I had once been intimate together seemed like a taboo subject right now. I wasn't sure whether it was just because he didn't remember it and was mortified others knew more about his sex life than he did, or that just the thought of sleeping with me horrified him. Perhaps it was both?
"George was just teasing, you know." I spoke to his back as his long legs took the steps two at a time. I had to hurry to keep up with him.
"Mmm," he mumbled in reply.
"He's always tormented you a lot, anything to make you blush. Nice, in a way, that he's just treating you the same." I added, rambling to fill the uneasy silence between us.
"Was that true?" He suddenly asked me, as we paused on the second landing.
"What true? That he teases you, or…what he said?"
"What he said. Did we really…do that?" His face took on a look of something akin to disgust or maybe it was shame.
"Erm…" I blushed as I was forced to confess. "It's highly probable at some point, yes." I nodded, feeling my face flush rather warm. "I mean, I'm not sure if it really was the last time we were all together, but…well, you know. We had a erm, er…" I was beginning to sweat now. "Well, we had…a…healthy love life," I finally finished and then hid my face with my hair as I rolled my eyes at myself.
"Oh." He replied simply, his face now having joined his ears in turning red. Suddenly needing to avoid one another, he turned and climbed the stairs even faster, as though he could run away from his embarrassment.
"Do you know where you're going?" I called after him, trying to keep up.
"My room," he muttered.
"You know where that is?" I asked, incredulously.
"At the top, where it's always been," he replied, finding my question ridiculous. "Oh…" he gasped then as he got what I meant. "I remember…" he grinned back at me as he now raced up the last flight of stairs. I reached his side just as he pushed open the door. "Orange," he muttered, glancing around. The room was still very much bedecked in his favourite Cannons colours, right down to the old Cannon's bedspread on the bed. "It seems so small," he mumbled, taking a few steps inside, looking around at everything.
"Well, depends when you remember it. From your childhood, you were a lot smaller then, so the room would have seemed bigger. It's been awhile since you were in here." I looked around as well. I didn't think there had been anyone in the room since Ron's disappearance. Once upon a time, Molly used to let the children play in here. But after he had gone missing, the room was out of bounds and treated almost like a shrine to him.
Hesitantly he sat down on the bed, gazing at the walls, reading posters still stuck here and there, looking over trinkets that must have meant something to him at one time or another. Things he hadn't bothered packing when we moved. I noticed, stuffed high on a teetering pile of junk on a shelf, was even Scabbers old travelling cage.
"I don't think anyone has touched anything in here for awhile," I told him. "Look, here's your old school trunk." It was poking out from under his bed where I had accidentally kicked it when walking across to join him.
Ron slid off the bed and onto the floor on his knees as he pulled the trunk out. "Wonder if any of my old school stuff is still in it," he murmured to himself as he cautiously lifted the lid. And then slammed it shut again. "Eurgh! It stinks!" he groaned and held his nose. "Whatever is that smell?" He took his wand from his pocket. A few days ago I'd happily noted he'd started carrying his wand around with him more often and using magic again without thinking about it, as though he'd never stopped. This time he opened the lid quickly, stuck his wand inside and muttered a charm to mask the smell until he could locate it.
On the top lay a few old school books that had seen better days. A couple of school ties and an old threadbare jumper. He tossed those aside to discover scraps of parchment, broken, old quills with ink splatters everywhere. A couple of letters from home that looked as though they had been read more times than he would care to admit to. And underneath those he found the cause of the smell – a muddy, sweaty old sock all rolled up with a bag of rather mouldy old Bertie Botts Beans. Screwing up his nose, he disposed of both the beans and the sock before scrabbling around amongst the dust and clutter of his memories at the bottom. Another pile of chocolate frog cards – did he have those things everywhere? More torn and screwed up pieces of parchment, spilled potion ingredients that were adding to the foul smell and then a tiny little figure of a man, missing an arm.
He picked it up, gazed at it for a moment and then quickly tossed it aside. In my brief glimpse at it, I'd thought it looked like a Quidditch player wearing the Bulgarian colours, though couldn't imagine why it only had one arm. Until I suddenly recalled Ron buying a moving figure of Viktor Krum at the World Cup we'd all attended just before our fourth year. Obviously the charm had worn off it now as the toy lay perfectly still. But had it broken by itself or had a rather jealous and childish 14 year old had something to do with it?
And then, as he moved another sock, he found his prefect badge. "I was a prefect?" he asked me, from where I sat watching him on the bed.
I nodded. "Yes, though a rather reluctant one," I smiled. "It wasn't something you really wanted…and the twins teased you mercilessly about it. But, you were actually quite good at it when you could be bothered. The other students responded to you better than me. I think they saw you as more of an equal. Me, they probably thought I was just too bossy."
"Can't imagine why," he muttered under his breath.
"Hey!" I nudged his thigh with the tip of my toe. "You carry on looking anyway, I'm just going to the bathroom," I excused myself and left him to his memories as he pulled out two halves of a broken wand and frowned at it. Can't imagine why he'd kept it in his trunk all these years. Except of course that he'd hated to clean anything.
On my way down the stairs towards the bathroom on the third floor, I bumped into Molly on her way up. "Oh, have you seen Ron dear? I was hoping to catch him alone for a moment."
"He's in his old room, going through his old school trunk," I explained.
"Good, thank you," she smiled and adjusted the knitted items over her arm that she was carrying. "I'll just go up and find him then. Be nice to have a little chat together, away from all the noise," she added, already climbing the stairs – rather sprightly for someone of her age.
I took my time in the bathroom, wanting to give Ron and his Mum some time alone. They needed to talk and I was so glad he'd finally agreed to come here, even if it wasn't what we'd been expecting. But I could understand her over excitement, I could only imagine how hard this had been on her. Heaven forbid if it had been one of my children.
Playing with my hair to waste some time, I was suddenly alarmed when I heard a yell from upstairs and then thundering footsteps coming down the stairs. I poked my head out and caught Ron sprint past me in almost a blur, muttering to himself how he couldn't do this, that it was too damn much.
"Ron!" I chased after him, wondering what had gone wrong. "Ron, wait! What's the matter?" I chased him into the lounge where he paused and looked around frantically. Harry called him over and then Bill. But he ignored the both of them, making a beeline for the back door, as though that was all he could see.
"Want a drink son?" Arthur asked him as he ran through the kitchen.
He ignored him and raced past him.
"Ron!" I yelled him again.
"What is it?" Ginny raced over to me, followed swiftly by Harry as Arthur looked on concerned.
I paused and looked at them panic stricken. "I don't know. I left him in his room and your Mum went to talk to him. Next thing I know he's making a break for it." I explained breathlessly.
"I'll go after him," Harry offered, gently pushing aside his wife.
"No…just give me a minute with him," I touched his shoulder. "You should stay here, reassure everyone it's fine. Ginny…you might want to check on your Mum?" I suggested and already I was racing through the kitchen towards the door Ron had recently slammed behind him. I hoped I wasn't too late, that he hadn't already apparated away.
Thankfully I spotted him down the garden, besides his dad's work shed, where he stood pausing for breath with his hands on his knees and breathing heavily. "What happened?" I demanded when I caught up with him.
He breathed heavily for a few more seconds before pacing across the garden, not looking at me. "I don't know," he finally huffed, shaking his head as he began to pace around the garden. "She came to my room, said she wanted to give me my Christmas presents from the last couple of years….the Weasley family jumpers, you know them?" He looked back at me. I nodded, wondering if he did, but continued to listen.
"It was a bit weird, but it was alright at first. Only, then she started going on about how much she's missed me and how devastating it was for her to think she'd lost another son, then she started talking about Fred…and she just burst into tears!" He kicked a rock and watched as it rolled across the grass before going on. "She was all over me Hermione," he glanced up, "crying and stuff. I didn't know what to do. She was just sobbing so much and muttering something about a war and us being on the run or something and…I just couldn't do it. I felt like she was smothering me." He kicked at a discarded rusty old cauldron who's bottom had burnt through – I suspected it had possibly been a casualty of the twins experiments. It skittered loudly across the garden.
"But, you were doing so well," I sighed, feeling rather disappointed. "And it's understandable she's going to be emotional. This whole thing is emotional…everything about it."
He just shrugged and leant back against the shed, letting his head fall back and bump the wall. "I know," he muttered quietly and closed his eyes, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. I waited, folding my arms across my chest. "What haven't you been telling me?" he opened his eyes and glared at me accusingly. "How did my brother lose his ear? What is this war I've heard mentioned at least three times tonight. And why the hell were we on the run or something? What is this big secret you keep saying you'll tell me later? Don't you think I need to know these things?" he demanded.
"And when do I get chance to talk to you about anything?" I glared back and raised my eyebrows in question. "You're always with the children, and then you disappear to your room once they go to bed, like you can't stand to be around me, let alone talk to me!" I hissed the words at him.
"I don't know how to act around you anymore!" he muttered.
"So, instead of even trying, you just hide behind our children, like a coward?"
"I am not a coward!" he yelled at me and kicked at a rock, that tuned out to be a garden gnome, causing Ron to jump back in alarm. The gnome glared at him, then went back to pulling a worm from the ground.
"Says the man who just caused a scene running away from his own mother because she was crying over him!" I retorted icily.
"It's too damn much Hermione! She's too damn much…I just, I can't? Okay?" he snapped and began to pace again.
"Oh. I'm sorry," I began. "So sorry that you have a family who love you and missed you and have been upset about you being gone. That must be so hard for you, knowing that people care about you. You poor thing!" I mocked him. I'd about had it with his pity party. I knew all this was strange for him, but dammit – they only cared.
"What?" he looked up at me in stunned silence.
"You're being pathetic!" I spat at him.
"What the bloody hell do you know about what I'm going through?" He suddenly lunged to the floor and picked up the gnome, who had happily been munching on his worm. Angrily, Ron tossed him violently into the next field. "Just, stop fucking pushing me Hermione…this is bloody hard for me and you know it!"
"Really?" I cocked an eyebrow at him and folded my arms again. "And I suppose you think the last two years have been easy for me, huh? You forgot us! YOU weren't mourning for anyone. You didn't have to tell your children their daddy was never coming home. You didn't have to bury the only person you have ever loved with your whole heart. You didn't have to force yourself out of bed every damn day, when all you really wanted to do was roll over and never wake up, ever again…rather than face the world alone." Tears were now running unchecked down my face.. "No! You, you had it bloody easy in comparison…you just forgot about everything. I had to live through it all and somehow find the strength to go on. So don't you dare tell me I don't understand things being tough. The last two years have been a bloody nightmare for me!"
Ron's mouth opened and closed, struggling for something to reply with. "I…well, I just – I…that's totally beside the point!" he chopped his hand through the air.
"The hell it is!" I hissed angrily at him. "Don't you whine about this being hard, when you know nothing about it. Nothing!"
"You don't understand…" he began.
"Neither do you!" I shot back and took my wand out, preparing to turn on the spot.
"Wait!" Ron yelled, recognising the action I was about to make. "Where are you going?" he asked a little softer.
"My parents, to see our kids. You can stay here, or go home. Or…quite frankly Ronald, right now I don't care what the hell you do!" And with that, I completed my spin and disapparated, already regretting my words. Of course I cared what he did. If he left us now, it wouldn't only break my heart, it would destroy our children.
Hope you liked...more next week!