Chapter 13

"What time did you say he was getting here, sweetheart?"

I look up from stirring the gravy for the mashed potatoes to look at the clock on the opposite wall. He should be here in 15 minutes. I untie the apron around my waist and hand my father the spoon.

"He should be here by 6. Would you mind if I changed?" I ask. Frankly, I'm not used to cooking in the kitchen, and the heat has made me feel less than fresh. Ron has seen me in various conditions over the past year on the road, but I certainly don't mind trying to look nice when I have the opportunity.

"Of course, but be quick. It would be a shame if we actually had time to interrogate this young man alone." Although he smiles, his voice is tinted with a seriousness that makes me uneasy.

Choosing to ignore his implication, I kiss my dad on the cheek before walking to the bathroom adjacent from our house's entrance. Once I settled back here, I finally had the opportunity to cut my singed hair, which is currently tied in a knot at the top of my head. Taking care not get my hair wet, I jump in the shower and quickly shave my underarms. After the shower, I wrap a towel around my torso and pull the tie out of my hair, allowing it to fall. Unfortunately, I cut my hair a bit too short, which makes me feel like I look younger than I actually am. I grab my hairbrush from the drawer and attempt to brush it out, but to no avail. If I had the time, I would use Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to straighten it and make it closer to its typical length, but cooking took longer than expected.

I sigh with frustration. It's not as if this is a special occasion. I told Ron that just yesterday. Why am I so nervous?
Holding my towel closed, I walk out of the bathroom to quickly run into my bedroom on the opposite side of the entrance to get my change of clothes.

"Hermione?"

Surprised, I slide off of my wet feet and onto the floor, smacking my head against the hardwood floor. I can see a familiar pair of shoes walking toward me from the living room couch when I open my eyes.

"Blimey, are you alright?" I tilt my head to see the owner of the shoes. Ron. His face is almost the color of his maroon sweater.

He moves to help me up, but I swat him away as I try to keep the towel closed. "What're you doing here? You're not supposed to be here until 6!"

"I know, but I got here a little early. Your mum let me in," he mutters. His ears darken as he keeps his blue eyes determinedly on the door in front of us, not daring to look down at me.

I blush as push myself up with one hand while the other holds the towel closed. "Did you see anything, Ron?"
Before he could so much as mumble a syllable, my mum pokes her head out of the kitchen door to look into the living room. Raising a sculpted eyebrow, she asks, "Did you not hear him ring the door bell, Hermione?"

An already embarrassing moment just because significantly worse. Mortified, I reply, "Clearly not. If you'll excuse me, I'll be out in a moment."

With that, I rush out of the living room with as much dignity as a nearly naked woman in front of her mother and first serious boyfriend could. Throwing my bedroom door closed behind me, I take a moment to breathe, hoping my embarrassment would leave with my exhalation. As much as I'd prefer not to be seen at the moment, leaving Ron alone with my mum after what happened would be nothing short of cruel. I throw my towel on the bed and race to get into my undergarments. Finally, I pull a turquoise sundress that I had planned for the occasion over my head. Sighing at myself in the mirror, as I had intended on wearing some make up for the occasion but do not have the time at this point, I take some tinted lip balm from the top of the dresser and apply it. That's going to have to do.

I walk out of the bedroom, my bare feet cold against the hardwood. The living room is empty, so I enter the kitchen. Ron is tossing a salad as my parents set the table in the adjoining dining room. "I reckon that I should have offered to do this to begin with," Ron says when he sees me, redness still evident in his freckled cheeks. "Your hair looks nice, by the way."

I tuck a few curly locks behind my ear. To my annoyance, most of it is too short to stay put and falls back forward immediately. "Thank you," I reply. "Did she say anything about what happened?"

"No, thank Merlin," Ron says, looking at my parents in the adjacent room warily. "She just put me to work. Off to a solid start."

"Good. Now, what did you see?" I ask again with a lowered voice. It's my turn to blush.

With his crooked smile, Ron leans toward me. With his lips close enough to graze against my ear, he whispers, "Nothing to worry about. I would have been lucky to see more."

I am blindsided by the heat that shoots through my body at the statement. Oblivious, Ron kisses my cheek and straightens up to attend to the salad. He doesn't know what he does.

Ignoring the heat in my stomach, I walk into the dining room to see my parents completing the last finishing touches on the table. "Everything looks delicious. Is there anything that I can do?"

Mum looks at me with an expression mixed with amusement and disappointment. "You've done quite enough for one day," she says pointedly. Dad raises an eyebrow. Fortunately, it does not look like Mum shared the embarrassing moment in the living room with my father. Before anyone can linger on the comment too much, she calls, "Ronald, would you bring the salad in here? Everything else is set."

After Ron delivers the dressed salad, we sit across from my parents at the dining table. After the food is divided up onto our plates, Dad asks, "So Ron, when did you finally decide to start a relationship with our daughter?"

I feel Ron squirm beside me. "Ah, well, um-"

I chastise, "Dad, really?"

"Now, I don't think this is completely unprecedented," Mum replies in lieu of my father. "I've known that you two have been together since you came to Australia, but your father did not have that luxury."

"I know, but-"

"Besides," Dad interrupts. "I recall my little girl talking a whole lot about her two boys. Given how many times you cried over one of them, I'm surprised that that's the one you ended up with."

Although Ron was able to steadily eat in spite of the circumstances, his fork froze in mid-air at that remark. He looks at me with an unfathomable expression.

"Oh, that doesn't surprise me," Mum tacks on. "Hermione always had a soft spot for Ron. Crying over him just showed that she cared."

"You cried over me?" Ron asks, sounding alarmed.

"Oh, you know the rows that we've had over the years…" I reply, glaring at my parents. I can't believe that they're bringing this up.

"I had no idea," Ron says sincerely. "I'm so sorry, Hermione."

"Honestly, don't be. It was so long ago," I assure. I lift a forkful of salad to my mouth, hoping that this topic would end with his apology.

Mum looks at me incredulously. "Hermione, I seem to recall that you were pretty miserable during the last Christmas we spent together. Something about a girl named… Oh, what was her name?"

"Violet?" Dad suggests.

"You mean Lavender," I correct irritably after choking down the lettuce. Ron reddens beside me. I feel petty for how I felt, given how she fought bravely beside us and came out of it much worse off than we did. "Ron, you dressed the salad nicely. It's delicious."

Before Ron could reply, my dad continues, "Ah yes, Lavender. Whatever happened with Lavender, Ron? Hermione implied that you two were close."

'Merely in proximity,' I think wryly, regretting how much I had shared with my parents that Christmas. Prior to Hogwarts, my parents were my closest friends. Later on, they were prone to ask questions about the magical side of my life. Given the danger I was in over the past few years, I was more than willing to share innocent (even if unpleasant) details of my life to satisfy their curiosity. I never realized they would use it against Ron, though. To be honest, I never imagined us actually making it to this point.

Although he looks annoyed, he replies, "We didn't have that much in common. It didn't work out."

I almost smirk at the understatement. "Dad, could we talk about something else?"

"Very well," Dad acquiesces. We eat in awkward silence for a few minutes before he speaks again. "Speaking of having things in common, Hermione is planning on completing her education and will be heading back to school on the first. Will you be joining her?"

I glare at my father. I already told him that Ron and Harry both weren't planning on coming back. Given the importance that my parents place on education, they were not happy to hear that news.

"Actually, sir, I won't be able to join her," Ron replies, shifting in his seat. "Something came up."

Dad looks down at Ron behind his thick rimmed glasses. "What is so important that you're willing to forfeit your education?"

Ron looks down uncomfortably at his plate. I wait a few moments for him to reply, but he does not. "Ron, please tell him," I request, placing a comforting hand on his knee under the table. "They'll understand. If you have to give up school, at least what you're doing is honorable."

"I really don't think now is the time," Ron says shortly. I remove my hand from his knee, puzzled. Why would he not want to tell them about his plans to help George at the shop? Even the most scholarly people could understand his decision, given the circumstances.

"Ronald, you're being ridiculous. They would understand why. Tell them," I demand. While I don't think it is fair of my parents to question him like this, it wouldn't hurt for him to at least try to defend himself. Having my parents' approval of our relationship wouldn't hurt, and at the moment that is tenuous.

"It really isn't their bloody business," Ron exclaims heatedly. He places his napkin on the table and stands from his seat. "Excuse me."

I watch, bewildered and horrified, as he leaves the room. I look back angrily at my parents. "You guys are way out of line. I don't know what's wrong with him, but he didn't deserve that."

Although both of my parents look apologetic, my mum looks considerably more sincere. My dad replies, "I warned you before he got here that we would ask him questions, didn't I?"

I huff. "Yes, but I was thinking harmless questions like 'what was it like living with a big family?' Not questions that sounded a lot like, 'Why are you with my daughter after all you put her through? Why are you throwing your future away?'"

Dad shrugs. "Well, he is, isn't he? It seems to me that you've tied yourself to someone with no ambition whatsoever and a long history of rowing with you. From what you've told us, at least your friend Harry is an accomplished war hero who never hurt you."

"How dare you mention Harry! Ron gets enough of that comparison as his best friend as it is!" I reply shrilly, my fists clenching beneath the dining room table.

"Hermione, lower your voice," Mum scolds. "Now, if you'd like to excuse yourself to go talk to him, feel free to do so. But yelling at your father, who has your best intentions at heart, isn't going to help."

His best intentions certainly have a funny way of showing themselves. My dad was always protective, but he was also known for his empathy. It was part of what made him a successful dentist. Even though he is functioning fine, he still hasn't returned to his true self since he woke from the coma. I just didn't imagine that this would manifest itself at our dinner. Mum normally wouldn't tolerate my father's statements either, but she is just as aware of the change in him as I am. We're also both aware that I am to blame for this, which explains her defending him.

"Fine, but you should know that he isn't going anywhere, so you're going to have to give him a chance," I say, feeling exhausted, but I can hear the thinly veiled threat in my voice.

"Do you love him?" Dad asks quietly. The question is sudden, but I know my answer. Although I've never said it out loud, I've known my answer to that question for quite some time. You don't hold a candle for someone for as long as I have without knowing that.

"Of course I do," I retort, my voice quivering. I feel my eyes water despite myself. "You don't know what he's really like, or what he's done for me. Harry is one of my best friends, of course, but Ron was there for me when Harry wasn't. He challenges me in ways that Harry never could. And even if I were interested in Harry that way, which I'm not, I'm not his type. He is with someone else, who I have reason to believe loves him very much. It has always been Ron for me, Dad."

There's a pregnant silence in which I can hear myself sniffling. This is humiliating. Our family was never one for displays of emotion, but it appears that today is one of firsts in multiple ways. Finally, my mum breaks the silence. "Well, even if your father isn't terribly observant, I've had my suspicions for a while. It was confirmed when I saw you two together in Australia," Mum admits. "The ferocity he greeted me with when I carried your unconscious body out of my office could have only meant love."

I can't help but blush at her words. "I have no clue about how he feels, nor do I speak for his feelings. I only know mine, but I assume that will suffice for this conversation," I reply shortly.

"Hermione, don't be so dramatic," Mum says, her stern face cracking into a smile. "Anyone could see by the way that Ron looks at you that he loves you. That's probably why your father is on the offensive."

Dad makes a disapproving face at the accusation, but doesn't otherwise negate it.

"Well, either way, I should go talk to him," I remind. "Please excuse me."

Taking a big breath, I walk out of the dining room and kitchen without a look back. To my dismay, the living room is empty. I call for him, but he doesn't respond. I start thinking that he might have Apparated home, but just as I'm about to Floo call the Burrow, I'm surprised to see the front door open.

"Sorry," Ron mutters from the entry way as he closes the door. "I just needed some fresh air."

"It's okay," I assure, moving to wrap my arms around him, my previous anger momentarily forgotten. "My dad hasn't been himself since I restored his memories. I'm so sorry about that."

Ron doesn't return my embrace. "He's right, you know."

I step back from him, my heart beating frantically. "You heard our conversation?"

"I heard enough. Didn't really feel like hanging around in the next room after hearing how your dad feels about me compared to Harry, but he does have a point. I've hurt you so much over the years," Ron replies. So he didn't hear everything. I can tell. His typically passionate blue eyes appear defeated. "I'm not good enough for you."

"Don't say that!" I place my hands on his face, tilting it down so that he could see me. "You are enough. You are so enough. It's unbelievable how enough you are."*

He places one of his large hands on my own, cupping it to his cheek. "I don't think you'd be saying that if you knew."

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "If I knew what?"

He lets out a huge breath. Taking my hand, he leads me to the couch in the living room. As we sit, he replies, "I really didn't want to hurt you, but I wouldn't be me if I didn't fuck it up somewhere. I reckon it makes sense."

My stomach sinks. I don't like the way he's talking. I'm so worried that I didn't even so much as blink at the swear. "What did you do?"

He runs a hand nervously through red hair that is almost longer than my newly cut bob. "I haven't done anything yet, but I plan to," He replies slowly, as if he is carefully choosing his words. "And when your dad asked me what I was doing instead of school, I didn't want to lie, so I left..."

My heart skips a beat as my brain tries to frantically churn out a logical version of his vague statement. After a moment, I have to admit, "I don't understand."

He lets out another shuddering breath. "Kingsley asked me to join the Auror training session with Harry. I plan on accepting the slot."

I feel like I may throw up. I don't know what to think except, 'No.' After this year, being separated from him and Harry under normal circumstances is already painful enough. I can't imagine how it would feel once they're actually in a constant state of danger again. What I've been empathizing with Ginny over this whole time has come true. It feels worse than I anticipated. I want to yell at him, to deliberately start a row and make him see the error in his decision - surely I would have done so before Australia, before the death of Voldemort, before that first mind-blowing kiss?

He looks at me sheepishly, as if expecting to be hit. I have to will myself not to cry. After everything, I don't have it in me to hurt him, even if he is hurting me. After a heavy silence, I reply, "Congrats, Ronald. I know that this is what you've always wanted." I can't quite look him in the eye anymore, so the statement is directed toward to the room instead of his face. "How long have you known? And what about George?"

Even though I don't see it, I can hear him shift uncomfortably next to me. "I've known since the day you moved out. And I asked him about it yesterday at the shop. I have his blessing."

Well, that makes sense. I was wondering why he would willingly go school shopping with us when he wasn't planning on going to Hogwarts himself, but I didn't give it much thought since I liked having the opportunity to see him. The last time we really spent time together was that night on the beach. Every moment since has been consumed with finding my parents, followed by guilt about my father and healing as a family after my betrayal of their trust. I've missed him more than I would care to admit, but at the moment I can only focus on how he will be even further from me now. How pursuing a career as an Auror will continue to put him in the danger that always threatened to separate us.

I want to tell him all this, but I won't. "I'm glad," I reply, although the lie sounds false in my ears. "Thank you for telling me. It was kind of you to do so before you sent the acceptance."

"Hermione…" It sounds almost like a plea. He's not convinced, but I don't have the energy to act any more than I already am.

"Let's go get this dinner over with, shall we?"

I feel like he would've been more reluctant to do so if I were acting normally, but I think I had him worried enough to send him back into the room with my father without complaint. My speech to my parents must've had some impact on my them since they were both considerably nicer to Ron for the rest of the evening. Dad even chuckled at some of Ron's wittier comments, which I would've appreciated more if my mind wasn't consumed with the idea of both my lover and best friend dying after all that we had been through. I toyed with my food throughout the meal, meaning that most of it remained uneaten by the time that we rose from our seats to walk Ron out.

"Well, Ronald, it was nice to get to know you better," Mum said as she gave him a hug, which he returned with an awkward pat on her back, in the entryway.

"Yes, I apologize for my questions earlier. I'm afraid that I've always been very protective of Hermione. She's our only child, you know," Dad adds on.

"I know. I understand," Ron replies, extending his hand for a firm handshake. I would have been proud of him, given what Ron had overheard my dad saying. At the moment, though, I can't muster it.

After bidding Ron goodbye, my mum heads to the kitchen to clean the dishes and my dad heads to bed. Ron looks at me expectantly as he opens the door, but his face drops when he sees that I'm not following him out in order to be alone with him outside. "Could I see you again before you leave? I reckon that we should use every opportunity before you go back to school."

I bite my lip. "I don't know, Ron. I need to start packing, and I have so many textbooks that I need finish reading for class."

"You know that they don't require that you read them beforehand, much less re-read them, right?" His crooked smile would normally make me lose my resolve, but I merely shrug in response. Running a hand nervously through his hair, he leans over to kiss me on the cheek. My breath catches despite myself as he murmurs against my ear. "Well, just know that I'd still like to see you, if you'd have me. Good night, Hermione."

"Good night." After closing the door behind Ron, I drag myself into the kitchen to help Mum with the dishes. I just want to wash this day off of me in the shower and go to sleep, so I take out my wand to levitate the plates into the sink.

Mum, who isn't facing me, clutches at her chest in surprise. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," she breathes as she leans against the counter next to the sink, which is making quick work of the dishes with the help of my wand. "So, what's wrong?"

I swallow thickly. "What do you mean? I'd say the night went well after I got Ron back in the dining room."

Her intelligent eyes observe me as I flick my wand feebly to finish the remaining dishes. "I'd agree, which is why your performance tonight doesn't make sense. What happened?"

The question is enough to make me lose it. Slamming my wand on the counter, I shake with tears that were threatening to spill throughout the evening. Mum rushes to embrace me, and I cry into her sweater. "Oh, Mum, I just can't bare to lose him. Not after all this."

My mum leans back to look at my face. "What're you talking about, sweetheart?"

I sniffle pathetically. "It's hard to explain since it's a Wizard issue."

"Try me," she demands. She was never one to back down from a challenge.

Wiping tears from my eyes, I explain, "He was offered an extremely dangerous, but respected, position in the Wizarding world and he plans to accept it. He knows how I feel about it since Harry just did the same thing to Ginny a couple of weeks ago, but he is going to do it anyway. He'd rather go get himself killed than do something sensible and safe like go to school or help his brother at his shop."

My mum rubs my arm comfortingly. "Well, that doesn't make sense, but neither one of them strike me as senseless. Does it mean a great deal to him? Or Harry, for that matter?"

I sigh. "Of course. They both were planning on being Aurors for years."

Mum continues, "Was this an issue to you prior to the war?"

"Not in particular, but-"

"And would they have been offered these positions if they weren't qualified? I'm sure that the powers that be had many people that they could have chosen from, but they chose your boys. I'm sure that means something," she says reassuringly.

I understand that her words make logical sense, but they don't lessen the ache in my chest. "I just don't want to him to get hurt. I don't want to lose either one of them."

She smiles sympathetically. "I know, sweetheart, I know. But at the same time, if you had a dream job, would you expect Ron to keep you from it? Particularly if you were qualified and already offered the position?"

I frown at that. "I wouldn't call invoking political reform comparable to what they'll be doing."

"Perhaps not," Mum concludes as she presses a kiss to the top of my head. "But anything worth pursuing is not without its challenges. And if it is achievable, the ones who love us should not keep us from achieving them."

I suppose that she is right, even if I don't want to agree with her. I'll just need time to process it.

*A/N: For those of you that recognized that quote, it is from Sierra Boggess. I couldn't help myself.