Chapter 7: Yours and Mine

Hermione wasn't sure of the time when she woke, but it was dark outside. There was a piece of parchment on the pillow next to her. In Ron's scrawling handwriting was written:

H.,

Went to the hotel pub. Didn't want to wake you.

Love you,

R.

Hermione got out of bed and showered. She had no idea when Ron left the note, but when he still wasn't back by the time she got out of the shower, she decided she might as well join him in the pub.

As she walked down the hallway, she saw Gabrielle approaching from the other end. They met at the stairwell.

"Where are you off to?" Gabrielle asked amicably.

"Ron left a note that he was down at the pub, so I thought I'd join him."

Gabrielle smiled. "Then I will follow you. My suspicion is that Viktor is also there."

Hermione smiled back at her, but she really wasn't comfortable with the idea of Ron and Viktor in the pub together. She hoped that if they were together, things were going smoothly. As they approached the pub they could hear singing, and as they turned the corner, they could see that it was quite crowded. Ron towered above the other people in the bar, and Hermione was shocked to see one of his arms draped over Viktor's shoulders while the other was draped over the shoulders of a stout old witch, who appeared to be having a fine time. The entire place was singing a Bulgarian folksong. Ron didn't seem bothered that he didn't know the words.

Gabrielle clasped a hand over her mouth.

"Well, this is unexpected," Hermione said.

As the song finished, Viktor called for another round.

Gabrielle laughed. "They're completely pissed."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, they are. Well, what do you say? You take yours, I'll take mine."

Gabrielle nodded. "I suppose we should before they fall over and break something."

They threaded their way through the crowd until they reached Ron and Viktor. "Hullo," Hermione said looking up at Ron.

"Hermione!" He wrapped his arms around her. "I love you."

She smiled at him. "I love you too. Let's go upstairs."

"All right then," Ron said happily.

She began to steer him toward the door and could see Gabrielle to her right doing the same with Viktor.

As they crossed the lobby, Ron lurched forward, unsteady on his feet. Hermione pressed a hand against his chest to help him balance.

"You've really got your hands full," Gabrielle said. "Do you want me to put Viktor to bed and then come back and help you?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm fine. We've done this dance before, although it's been ages."

Ron nuzzled the top of her head. "I love your hair."

"I know," Hermione said patiently as they started up the stairs.

"I love these too," he said clasping her breasts.

An elderly witch passing by glared at them.

Hermione pushed his hands down to her waist. "I know, but we're not going to touch them here, because we're in public."

Ron giggled. "Oops, sorry."

She was relieved when they reached the top of the stairs. Viktor and Gabrielle were right behind them. Viktor turned to her and cupped Gabrielle's face.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Viktor asked.

Hermione smiled at Gabrielle. "Yes, she is."

"And so sweet," Viktor said, touching his forehead to Gabrielle's. "She makes me so happy."

"I'm so glad for you, Viktor."

He grinned at her. "I am glad for you too."

Hermione nodded. "Good night, Viktor." He nodded.

"Good night," Gabrielle said, "and good luck."

"You too," Hermione said.

She managed to wrangle Ron into the room without too much difficulty. He plopped down on the bed and grinned at her. "Hey," he said in a way that she was sure was supposed to be sexy but just made her want to laugh. She pulled his shirt over his head and reached for his belt.

"You're very frisky."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, that's me. Stand up now."

He struggled to his feet and wagged his hips at her as she pulled his trousers down. "You going to give me a knob job?"

Hermione shook her head. "I don't think so. Not right now. Why don't you lie down?"

He sat back heavily on the bed and caught his reflection in the mirror over the dresser. "I miss my beard," he said sadly.

Hermione unlaced his shoes and began tugging them off. "I'm sorry, Ron. You can grow it back."

He nodded at her. "I'm going to. I don't like looking at the scar. It reminds me and I don't like it."

She looked up at him and touched his cheek. His face crumpled. "Please don't cry," she said softly. "If you want, I can do a hair-growing hex on your chin."

Ron shook his head and pulled her to him pressing his face between her breasts. "They hurt us so bad," he mumbled against her chest.

"I know," Hermione whispered, feeling a tear slip down her cheek.

"Then we hurt each other."

"I know." She kissed the top of his head.

"I don't want to do that anymore."

"No." She slipped her fingers through his hair. "We won't do that anymore."

"I love you so much." He leaned back to look at her.

"I love you too." She kissed him softly on the mouth. "Lie down now, and go to sleep, all right?"

"Will you come to bed too?"

She nodded. "I'll be right there."

"Don't leave me."

"I won't leave you. I'm right here."

Ron lay down and she undressed and got in beside him, pulling the covers over both of them.

He was so drunk he was sweating alcohol, but he clung tightly to her. Some part of him, she thought, must have remembered the last time he was this drunk with her. That night she'd left him and he seemed determined even in his sleep not to let her go this time. She didn't resist his hold, but the memory was pervasive for her as well, and tears streamed down her cheeks.

Marks had always meant a great deal to Hermione, and even though she knew she shouldn't, she still remembered every less than perfect mark she'd ever received. Even out of school, she kept mental marks for things she did. For a long time, she felt like she'd failed Ron. That somehow, if she'd been stronger, she could have made things work. She'd known that Viktor was the worst choice if she ever hoped to get back with Ron, but at the time, she'd lost all hope, and simply couldn't bear to be alone. Viktor had offered a shelter she couldn't refuse. As she lay there in the dark with Ron wrapped tightly around her she felt a kind of catharsis, as though that entire period of her life was laid to rest alongside Todor.