Date Night
Hermione's arms were wrapped around her middle, standing next to Ron as they watched Rose conducting Hugo in the construction of a snowman in the backyard. She hadn't been productive that afternoon, bursting into tears whenever there wasn't someone at her office. Luckily there hadn't been any meetings to attend and the only person she saw all day was her assistant. She had sent Jodi a message, postponing their discussion for a few days, knowing it would be ineffective in that moment.
"We could just tell them you're going to help George for a while," Hermione said.
"You want to lie to them?" Ron asked, looking at her, brows knit.
"No, I want you to stay," she said. He shook his head looking towards the window again.
When she walked in earlier, Ron playing with their children, Hermione thought for a moment maybe he had changed his mind. Maybe she could keep him here to work things out. It became apparent that wasn't the case when she went into their bedroom and there was a duffle packed next to the bed.
"We aren't going to get things figured out stepping on each other's toes here," Ron said.
Hermione stifled a sob. Ron reached out, rubbing her back.
"Hey, this could be good," Ron said. "We just… we need time, don't you think?"
"Do you know the statistics on separated couples reconciling?"
"No, but it doesn't surprise me you would," Ron said with a shrug.
"Eighty-seven percent end up divorced," Hermione said. Ron's hand was still on her shoulder and she watched Rose take off her hat and stick it atop their very small, misshapen snowman. "The majority of marriages fail at that point."
"Well, thirteen percent figure things out then," Ron said. Hermione rubbed her lips together. "And I don't think you've ever been in the average population of any statistic."
It was the closest thing to hope Ron had given her. When he said something like that, she could believe Ron really did want to work things out. With some therapy, they could get there. Maybe. Hopefully. Hermione didn't know what she would do if it didn't work. She didn't know how she was going to get through talking to Rose and Hugo about this. Hermione had a feeling Hugo wouldn't really understand at his age. He might be upset if the rest of them seemed upset, but otherwise would be processing the situation as it unfolded. Rose, though… besides being a terribly observant child, she would be more likely to have classmates with divorced parents or mums and dads on second marriages.
"Let's have dinner and then we'll talk to them," Ron suggested. Hermione nodded.
Rose and Hugo played for another ten minutes before Ron called them in. Hermione had ordered pizza and they decided to have dinner in the living room, all sitting around the coffee table on the floor. They had done this once when Rose was a few years younger and every now and again, Rose would ask if they could eat in this way. It was the fun thing their family did. It had seemed a good way to ease into the conversation they would have, then Hermione realized halfway through that they might just taint it instead.
"Miss Ford read us a book where you pick what happens and it changes the story," Rose went on in between bites of pizza.
"Like magic?" Hugo asked.
"Not like magic," Rose said, rolling her eyes. "It's a muggle book, Hugo."
"Muggle books can have magic," he said.
"No they can't."
"Uh-huh," Hugo said. "My class read a story about magic."
"That doesn't mean the book is magic. Right Mum?" Rose said. "No magic is allowed around the muggles, right?"
"Right," Hermione said. Normally she would have taken the opportunity to ask Hugo about what books he read about magic. And use the teaching moment to expound on Rose's understanding of what was and wasn't allowed to be done in front of the muggles. She needed those conversations, as they were still trying to help her control the magic she had.
Ron cleaned up the paper towels and put the extra into the kitchen, wiping his hands on his jeans as he came in, taking a deep breath. "Rose, Hugo, we need to have a family chat."
Rose and Hugo exchanged a look as though trying to figure out what they had done that they were about to get in trouble with. Ron reached down picking up Hugo and settling him on his lap in the large armchair. Hermione moved over to sit closer to Rose, playing with her hair.
"I'm going to be… leaving for a bit," Ron said.
"Like on holiday?" Rose asked.
"No, not on holiday," Ron said, looking at Hermione. She took a deep breath.
"Daddy is going to stay in his own flat," Hermione said. It was like ripping off a bandaid, except it wasn't. Because Rose looked at her blankly, the information visibly processing.
"I'll be by every morning and I will still pick you up from school," Ron added. "Every day. And I'll be connected by floo, not so far away. Or you could use your mum's phone to call. You like using the phone, right Rose?"
"What about us?" Rose asked.
"We're still going to live here, sweetheart," Hermione said. Rose's eyes were wetting and Hermione rubbed her back.
"I want to go with Daddy," Rose cried.
"Rosie, the flat is going to be small and you won't have any of your toys there," Ron said. "You'll be happier here."
"No!" Rose shouted, standing. "No, I want to go with you."
Hermione reached for her hand. "Rose, let's just—"
"No! It's not fair!" Rose yanked her hand from Hermione's and ran to the stairs and up to her room. The lights in the house flickered with the slam of her door and Hugo tucked himself into Ron's body. He didn't say anything, but looked upset and confused.
"I'll go talk to her," Ron said. He stood, handing Hugo over.
Hugo easily transferred to Hermione, wrapping his arms around her neck. "Daddy won't read Rabbity Babbity anymore, will he?" he observed.
"Oh no, love," Hermione said, pushing him back, placing a hand on his cheek. "Daddy will read it to you whenever you want."
"Promise?" Hugo asked.
"Yes, I promise," Hermione said.
"Can we visit Daddy?" Hugo asked.
"When he's ready for that, I think so," Hermione nodded.
"Will he ever live here again?"
Hermione didn't say anything for a few minutes. She swallowed. Honesty, Ron had said. He wanted to tell them the truth.
"I hope so," Hermione said.
"Can he read Rabbity Babbity to me tonight?"
"Sure. Why don't you go change into your pajamas first? I'm going to check on your sister."
Hugo stood and moved towards the steps. Hermione followed, continuing down the hall when Hugo went towards his room. She heard Rose crying before she got to the doorway. She looked in. Rose was laying on her stomach on the floor, her face pressed against folded arms. Ron faced her, mirroring her stance, though he reached over, tickling her back. Hermione saw Rose's child sized suitcase on her bed, random bits of clothing and books sticking out at various angles.
"But why can't I go with you?"
"Your mum needs you here, Rosie," Ron said. "Hugo needs you here."
"Well I need you here," she countered.
Hermione wiped tears from the corner of her eye. She knew this wasn't going to be a singular discussion. Especially with Rose. Maybe over the next week she would see that Ron was still around in the mornings and afternoons and that would ease this, but Rose had always been a daddy's girl. It was bound to make this harder on her.
"I will come be with you whenever you need," Ron said. "And once I get the flat put to rights, you can come stay some nights. Alright?"
"Where is it?"
"It's over Uncle George's shop," Ron said.
"So we could get Fizzing Whizbees there?"
"Sure," Ron said with a smile. "And so many fake wands."
Rose laughed through her tears. She sniffed. "Are you leaving because Mum is mad at you?"
"No, sweetheart. Grown ups just have to figure things out this way sometimes."
"Melanie's parents don't live together," Rose said.
"Who's Melanie?"
"My friend," Rose said. "She said they always fight."
"Well, your mum and me are trying to not fight. And even if we do, it has nothing to do with you. You know that, right?"
Rose shrugged.
Ron cupped her chin in his hand, guiding her face to look up at him. "You, my clever, beautiful girl, are loved beyond belief. Your mum loves you and I love you."
Rose narrowed her eyes a little. "Do you love Mum?"
"I do." Ron turned and stopped, seeing Hermione still standing there. He continued to look at her. "I love her a lot."
Ron had a map out on his work desk, pointing at it with his wand to create little pins where the reported barriers were found. He spent the Saturday before with George. They cleared the flat, taking box after box down to the basement storage and dusted, all the while George probing about exactly what these barriers were like. He threw back his own ideas of what charms and jinxes might be combined to get the described effect. Ron kept a paper in his back pocket, jotting down notes to look into it.
George hadn't given up on trying it himself, of course, which meant that Ron was more likely than not to be stuck inside some magical cage one of these days. When he brought up rent, George waved him off, saying he would call it good and consider it an exchange for Ron's consultation.
Ron sat back, scratching his head trying to make sense of the placements. They started off very rural—almost unnoticed based on how far away they were. They were slowly containing larger and larger areas. There was one in Nuneaton that had trapped twenty-five muggles, requiring a team to modify memories as well as to break down the barrier.
"What the hell, Ron?"
It took Ron a full moment to shake himself out of his thought process to turn, seeing Harry standing at the cubicle, a strange expression on his face. Disbelief and irritation and something like curiosity.
"I put the report on your desk," Ron said, pointing in the general direction of Harry's office. "Sorry, I know you wanted it yesterday afternoon."
"Why did I have to hear from Ginny that you left Hermione?" Harry asked.
Ron looked around, checking for wandering eyes. Harry had hissed it low enough to not draw attention, but it wasn't something Ron wanted to deal with on a larger scale just yet. He didn't want questions. And as much as he was irritated by Hermione's paranoia that others would find out, he didn't want her to face that either.
Ron grabbed Harry by the elbow, leading him into his own office. He shut it behind them.
"I didn't leave her," Ron muttered. "Not exactly."
"What does that mean?" Harry asked, staying close to Ron, even though they had the privacy of the office. "Ron, if you tell me that you're seeing someone el—"
"Merlin's pants, Harry," Ron snapped. "I'm not seeing anyone, alright? Things just… haven't been going… Look, it's really not something I want to talk about. How did Ginny find out anyway?"
"Rose was telling Albus that you didn't live with them," Harry said. "Ginny overheard and started asking questions."
"When were they with you?"
"Hermione brought them around for a last minute picnic Saturday at your parents' house," Harry said.
Saturday. When Ron and George had been fixing up the flat.
"I'm just taking a beat," Ron said. "And I really don't want to get everyone involved, if you think you can keep it just between us for now."
"Who else knows?" Harry asked, calming down and leaning back against his desk.
"George and Angelina," Ron said. "I'm staying above the shop."
"You don't think it will get around then?"
"He said he won't say anything until I'm ready," Ron replied. "Not that it can stay under wraps too long."
Harry scratched at the side of his head with a sigh. "Well, I hope you know you can talk to me. At least keep me in the loop a bit, right?"
"Yeah, I can do that," Ron said.
"Do you want to talk about what happened exactly?"
Ron thought about what that conversation would be like for a moment. He would have to tell Harry about what Hermione said, which would bring up all sorts of old issues. Old issues Ron had settled in his mind ages ago. Harry probably had as well. It wasn't fair to drag him into the realization that they were back in the same place as they were as teenagers: Hermione as the top of the class, Harry in the limelight, and Ron just there. No, that wasn't Harry's fault. And he didn't want to admit that it needled him. Not at all.
"No, I don't think so," Ron said.
"Whenever you do…"
"Yeah," Ron replied. "I will."
Hermione and Ron sat side by side in the lobby of Mark Yarbrough's office, not speaking. Ron noticed Hermione's knees bouncing as she rubbed her lips back and forth against one another. Both were habits like those she exhibited before tests when they were younger.
"Did I tell you I set up a playdate for Rose and her friend Melanie?" Ron asked.
Hermione turned to him, shaking her head. The bouncing stopped at least.
"Thursday afternoon," Ron said. "Right after I get them, we'll go to the park with Melanie and her mum."
"Does Melanie have a sibling Hugo's age?"
"No, but I thought I'd ask Ginny if I can pick up Lily and have her join us," Ron said.
"That would be nice. At least he won't interrupt them."
They looked at each other, neither with anything else to say right then while both wished they did.
"Ron and Hermione?" the receptionist called.
Hermione looked around, tucking her hair behind her ears as she stood and lead the way. The receptionist pointed towards the office door and they entered.
Yarbrough sat back in the chair behind a large desk, glasses on and chewing on the end of a pen. He was maybe ten to fifteen years older than they were and looked up with a smile.
"Mrs. Granger, Mr. Weasley," he said, standing and reaching a hand out to each. "Have a seat, please."
He waved his wand and two chairs appeared. They sat near each other. Hermione leaned towards Ron, sending him an apprehensive glance. She reached over, taking his hand. Ron didn't move away.
"It is nice to meet you," Yarbrough said. "So, why don't you tell me why you're here today."
"Well, we…" Hermione trailed off looking at Ron. She tensed up and licked her lips. "We are… well…"
"You are a marriage counselor right?" Ron took over for her. "You don't moonlight as like, a hit man?"
Yarbrough laughed as Hermione shot Ron a look. "Yes, I do specialize in that. I just want to get an idea of where you feel you're at."
"Well, we've been married for just about a decade," Hermione began to summarize. "And we're just wanting to… get at the root of some things. Maybe head off some issues."
Ron bit the inside of his cheek. Head off issues. They were so far from heading off issues that it was hard not to say something sarcastic.
"I see," Yarbrough said, looking between them with a warm smile. "And how did you two meet?"
"We were… I mean… how much do you know about us in general?" Hermione asked, and Ron realized the heart of her anxiety: how much was this man judging her for needing to come to him. How much he would have the power to out them.
"I think my son has your Chocolate Frog cards, if that's what you mean," he said, unconcerned. "I believe most people know your role in the war, but I haven't been stalking you. Not yet at least."
Hermione gave a humoring grin, though it was fleeting. "We met at Hogwarts," Hermione said. "We were friends for a long time before dating or anything like that."
"Same year, then, yes?"
Ron was sure he knew this, but Hermione seemed to ease at the innocuous questions. "Yes," Ron said.
"And do you have any children?"
"Two," Hermione said, getting her grounding. "A girl and boy. Rose is six and Hugo is four."
Yarbrough took notes, nodding. He set down his notebook leaning forward. "I like to get permission before doing this, but I have a record keeping quill to take notes so we can just chat, if that's alright."
"Like a quick quotes quill?" Hermione asked, stiffening again.
"Sort of," Yarbrough said. "Only those are programed to reword. This will just take down major points for me to refer back to."
"Sure," Hermione said. Ron nodded his consent as well and Yarbrough set it all aside, letting it start before turning back to them.
"So, where are you at in your relationship now? How would you describe it?"
Hermione looked at Ron, the wheels turning behind her eyes. She didn't want to say it out loud. Ron knew it would be up to him if it was going to come out at all.
"We're currently separated," Ron said.
"And how long has it been that way."
"Just since last week," Hermione replied, not making eye contact with Yarbrough. "That's why we're here."
"What about before that?" Yarbrough said. "How was the marriage up to that point?"
"Mostly fine," Ron said. "We've always had our own opinions, but mostly it was okay."
"When did it stop being mostly okay?"
Ron didn't know how to answer that. It happened so slowly. They had always fought at least a little. It wasn't like the petty arguments trying to one up each other at school. It was generally something they disagreed on and Hermione usually won out in the end. Most of the time, Ron didn't care much, but they had piled up. One little stone at a time until it seemed like they were facing each other with a wall in between them.
Hermione explained a version of this that sounded nicer—more clinical—than how Ron saw it, but he sat beside her, nodding slowly in agreement. It was mostly there. Most of the issues. Most of the problems. They were colored with her own view. "We have different viewpoints on whether or not a nanny would be helpful," she said. She mentioned the fight that lead to Ron moving out, though she glossed over the points that were actually hit. Ron wasn't sure whether he was more angry that she wouldn't own up to it in its entirety or grateful not to hear the words again. They were just starting to fade, even if their effect and meaning were still strong in his mind.
"How do you feel the intimacy in your relationship is," Yarbrough asked.
Hermione looked over at Ron, nodding before she started to talk. "Good," Hermione said.
At this Ron couldn't contain the scoff that he had held in at everything else. Hermione looked at him incredulously.
"Did you have a different perspective on that?" Yarbrough asked.
"Yeah," Ron said. "It's non-existent."
Hermione dropped his hand, turning away and folding her arms as she sat back in the chair.
"What? You're going to pretend that everything is hunky-dory and we're just here for a tune-up?" Ron demanded.
"How often would you say you're physically intimate?"
"At least once a week… or every two weeks," Hermione replied.
Ron leaned back, wagging his head and biting the insides of his cheeks.
"Ron?"
"It's not a regular occurrence, I can tell you that," he said.
"Can you remember the last time?" Yarbrough asked.
"Last month," Hermione answered a little too quickly.
"Five months ago," Ron corrected. He looked over at Hermione. Her eyes were wide, her jaw clenched, her cheeks pinkening.
"Not it wasn't," Hermione said. "My birthday—"
"We kissed a bit, then you wanted to go to bed," Ron replied. "Side by side, not touching."
"Well, our anniversary then," Hermione countered.
"Which was five months ago," Ron said.
Hermione pressed her lips together, looking away from him. Her cheeks were fully blushed and Ron felt bad for a moment. But it was the truth.
"Obviously that part of a marriage is very important," Yarbrough said. "Although I want to be clear, there are more ways to be intimate than just having sex. It's really about there being a connection between you that's outside of the other aspects of your family and responsibilities—kids, work, household concerns... If you can communicate well in that way, it can translate to other areas where communication has broken down. More often than not, what someone is saying isn't the heart of the issue, it's however it makes them feel or what they take away as the meaning that problems enter. Understanding your partner is central to understanding what's behind harsh words or actions you don't initially get."
Hermione had shaken off the embarrassment, nodding enthusiastically at what Yarbrough was saying. He asked a few more questions, Hermione being more honest about it, though she was still reserved.
"What I really want to know is where each of you are at in terms of where you are hoping this will go," Yarbrough said. "I end up with a lot of people in my office who are just on their way to divorce and I can be of more use to them by helping them navigate that in an amicable manner. The direction I take is entirely up to the two of you."
Hermione looked at Ron, waiting on tenterhooks. Ron sighed.
"I think I speak for both of us when I say we want to fix this," Ron said.
Hermione's eyes filled with tears. She dabbed at the corners as she nodded in agreement. Yarbrough flicked his wand, a box of tissues levitating in front of Hermione.
"Thank you," she squeaked out, taking one.
"When there are two willing people, it's definitely possible. This is a process, of course," Yarbrough stood, reaching along his bookcases, pulling out several titles. "I have a couple things for you to read, which may help."
Yarbrough turned back with the few books, walking over and handing them to Hermione. Her eyes darted across the writing on the covers, taking it in. Ron knew she would trust him for the very fact that he was starting them on books.
"For now, make time for just the two of you," Yarbrough said. "I know you are balancing out all of these changes with children as well, but just the two of you where you can. Date nights or planning meetings with specific goals. Times for you to talk and reconnect."
Ron nodded, taking a deep breath. He had already begun doing split shifts to get in more hours, but he would make time if this has potential to work. If he could have the marriage he wanted with Hermione, he would give anything.
With a couple more reading suggestions, Yarbrough took them out front, asking his receptionist to schedule them for another appointment in two weeks and Ron and Hermione began their walk back to the Ministry.
"Did you want to take one of these?" Hermione asked, holding out the three books.
What Your Partner Means stuck out to Ron. He reached out, taking that one and Hermione stuffed the other two into her purse.
"I'll read those others and then we can switch."
Ron didn't say anything as they went into the telephone booth entrance to the Ministry. Hermione closed the door and entered the code. The two stood in silence as it shifted and moved downward.
"Should we go out this weekend?" Ron asked.
"I think that would be nice," Hermione said, looking up at him.
Ron snaked his hand down, taking Hermione in his. She gripped tightly, pulling it up and pressing her lips to the back of his hand. He liked how it felt, but in the back of his mind the reasons for their meeting today rung as heavy reminders that this wasn't all there was. The nasty thought that if he hadn't moved out she wouldn't have given even this small show of affection came to mind.
When they made it to the main hall, Ron opened the door, letting Hermione out and following close behind. They were nearly to the lift when an older man came up to Hermione.
"Can I have a minute of your time, Mrs. Granger," he said.
Hermione looked up at Ron. "Later?" she said.
"Yeah," he tried smiling at her, still thinking the nasty little thought. Hermione didn't give any indication that he was anything more than his last meeting as she turned back to the man, starting up a discussion.
"Thank you, so much," Hermione said, setting Hugo down, watching him tackle Lily. Rose went to join Albus and James, who were sitting across from one another at the chess set Ron bought Albus for his last birthday.
"Hey! You're cheating!" James shouted, slumping over.
Rose and Albus had both been enthralled when Ron started teaching them the game and became instant chess partners. Ron never went easy on either of them and was excited to get them sets to practice with. James, however, had momentary interest, then went off into his own little world. Albus looked pleased at having outdone his brother at something.
"Mum, Al is cheating," James whined.
"Then get smarter about catching him," Ginny replied, not looking his way. She guided Hermione to the space between the living room and the kitchen. She looked at the kids, making sure they had gone back to their own activities. "How are you holding up?"
Hermione had only talked briefly to Ginny after Hugo spilled the beans. Ginny hadn't really talked to either of them, if Ron was being honest about it, and Hermione wasn't sure what the rest of the family thought about the situation. Or if they even knew about it.
"I'm… holding up," Hermione said.
Ginny nodded like she understood, but how could she? Hermione was certainly glad to have her as a sounding board, but she felt alone in the whole ordeal. She wanted to talk to her mum, but she was holding off. Holding tight to the naive hope that Ron would change his mind. Every day she went home and Ron was playing with the kids, laughing and happy. He would be as happy with her as he was with them, but when she would ask if he was staying for dinner, he generally bowed out. And that would be when Hermione realized he was being pleasant to her for the kids' sake. And she would suddenly miss him, even as he sat ten feet from her.
But tonight, they were going out. Dinner and time together. They had switched books on Tuesday. Ron finished the one he had taken and she dug through her purse, giving him the other two. Their next appointment was that Wednesday and she hoped they would have something to report.
"Well, you two just enjoy yourselves."
"I can come get them tonight," Hermione said. "It might be late."
"Why don't you just let them sleep over," Ginny suggested. "We'll let them camp out here."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," Ginny said. "Now get out of here. … wait!"
Hermione stopped and turned back. Ginny grabbed and pulled down on Hermione's dress, squeezing her breasts in and up. Hermione rolled her eyes as Ginny finished her adjustments.
"Now go seduce my brother," Ginny said with a sly grin.
"You are the weirdest," Hermione laughed, putting her jacket back on. Ginny's grin grew.
With a final kiss each for Hugo and Rose, she headed out, apparating to Diagon Alley. They were meeting in front of Flourish and Blotts. When she got there, Ron was standing in the middle of the alley, people passing by, as he looked at his watch. Hermione just watched him for a minute. They had been together so long that Hermione still pictured in her mind a version of Ron from ten years before. He was still growing into his own body, gangly and adorable in a way only Ron could be. But they weren't twenty anymore and Hermione found herself interested in taking the time to see those changes. His hair was already thinning right along the front, but when he fixed it well, like it was tonight, it wasn't noticeable. He looked sophisticated, dressed in a suit and more filled out with muscle than he used to be. His jaw was stronger, having finally lost the last bit of baby fat (when had that happened, Hermione wondered) and his nose was more defined.
Hermione swallowed and walked forward, catching him by the elbow as he turned to look for her to the right. "You look nice," she said.
Ron turned and smiled down at her. Hermione's breath caught as he took her hand.
"Not as nice as you," he said. They stood, neither sure what this actually was. It was a date, but it wasn't like the nights out as a married couple. And they were more familiar than a couple still getting to know one another.
"I, er, thought that maybe we should start with some guidelines," Hermione said tentatively. She had thought a lot about this, but wasn't sure how Ron would respond.
"I completely agree," Ron said.
"Really?"
"Yes," Ron said. "I think tonight should definitely be about us. No kid talk."
Hermione nodded. "Yes," she said.
"And a limit on work." Hermione nodded in agreement. "And perhaps a focus on the good things. Memories and whatnot."
Hermione's heart lightened, nodding again. "Yes, that all sounds great. Did you get through those books already?"
"No, not yet." Ron reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded up piece of parchment with a mischievous grin as he held it between two fingers. "I got your cliff notes. You left them in the book."
Hermione let out a breath, her cheeks feeling warm. "Give those to me," she said, snatching the parchment from Ron. He was still trying to suppress his smile. "You always were such a cheat."
"I was just good at saving myself a headache where I could," Ron replied. "But I agree. I think it's a good idea."
Hermione nodded, running the parchment between her two fingers. Ron reached out, taking her hand and walked with her towards a new restaurant on Diagon Alley.
"You got a reservation?" Hermione asked.
"George has a friend," Ron said. "Called in a favor for me."
They sat and Hermione asked Ron about work. She had received a briefing on the case he was working on, though in the legal department, there was someone lower working on the ramifications should they find the culprit and determine nefarious motives. He mentioned a couple other situations, though he made a point of saying it wasn't anything terribly exciting.
"What about you?" Ron asked. "Still being pulled every direction?"
"We don't need to talk about that," Hermione said. One thing not in her notes that she had decided was to not discuss anything that would make Ron feel less and their different positions within the Ministry seemed rife with problems. Ron took a deep breath, pausing as the waiter brought their food, setting it down in front of each of them.
"You know, I never begrudged you your success," Ron said. Hermione watched as he pushed vegetables back and forth with the tines of his fork. "I was always proud of the good you were doing. You're amazing, really."
Hermione stared as Ron looked at her. Her eyes filled with tears.
"The thing is, I knew that going in," Ron said with a shrug. "I knew there was a chance I was marrying a future Minister—"
"Ron, don't exaggerate—"
"I'm not," he said. Hermione looked at him. He was intent, serious. He didn't have a smirk or playful grin. "I always knew you were going to soar once you got yourself in there."
They sat silently for a few minutes.
"So, are you still working on your old project?" Ron asked.
Hermione opened a little, discussing the work and her hand off to Jodi and the work that would be coming up with the Wizengamot.
Next, Hermione asked something about Rose and Ron had to remind her that kids were off the table for tonight. She nodded and they went on to other things. The conversation was awkward, stilted. They danced around the issues, but when they got into a topic it was nice. Like everything was how it used to be. Then they would stop and it would get awkward again.
After dinner, they wandered around Diagon Alley, holding hands and finding new things to see. Hermione hadn't been to the area in a while and Ron pointed out the latest animals in the menagerie.
"Rose keeps talking about a cat," Hermione said. It had been a few years since Crookshanks died. "Sorry, kids."
"That's alright," Ron said. "Let's go look."
The clerk was uppity about someone coming in ten minutes before closing, looking at the animals there. Hermione stopped in front of one pretty white and black kitten, large spots all over its fur. It purred, rubbing up against her fingers.
They walked out once the shop was closed and it was apparent the others all down the row were closing their doors and turning off their lights as well. Hermione shivered in the night air. Ron removed his jacket and added it to hers.
"We can go get some tea at the flat," Ron said.
His flat, Hermione thought. The place without her.
"Sure," she said, wondering if this was what it was going to take to really set in that this was real. That this was something that happened in her life.
They walked quietly in the night, the sounds of people shuffling along the cobblestone to get out of the cold matching their own. Ron lead the way to the door, unlocking and opening it, allowing her to go in first.
Hermione had been here in the past. Ginny worked at the shop the summer after graduating and lived with George up here. It was two bedrooms with a small sitting area and a kitchenette. It was mostly familiar as she entered. The walls were white, where they had been painted when Ginny was here. There was a simple dining room table in a nook and a newer couch than she remembered.
"Did you buy the furniture?" Hermione asked.
"Angelina had been wanting to buy new couches," Ron said. "George said this was a good excuse to get her those, so he brought their old ones here. Still in good shape, though."
Hermione took off Ron's jacket, handing it to him, and removed her own, setting it along the back of one of the dining room table chairs. She went to sit on the couch, picking up one of the books she had just given to Ron, flipping through out of habit as he shuffled around the kitchen, bringing two cups of tea.
Hermione took hers, sipping at it quietly as her heart began to pound. She hadn't felt this nervous about almost any date she had ever been on. She felt like a teenager, unfamiliar with the process of talking to someone in a normal manner as Ron's knees brushed her.
After a few minutes, she took off her shoes and tucked her feet under her, moving closer to Ron. She took Ron's mug, setting it aside and ran her fingers along his jaw. She leaned in, worrying her bottom lip until she was close enough that they began to kiss. Ron moved slowly back, his fingers ghosting along the back of her arms, sending a chill down her spine.
Hermione moved to deepen their kiss, leaning against Ron, her lips pressing along his cheeks, trapping his earlobe between them as she reached for the top button of his shirt. Ron's hands moved, grabbing her wrists as he moved away.
"Hermione," he said softly, but she was pulled back abruptly. "We're not going there just yet."
Hermione settled back, her hands still at his chest, her wrists stilled by his grasp.
"Why not? I thought—"
"I'm not some sex maniac, Hermione. We're not going to do that just so you can ace your therapy homework," Ron said.
Hermione blushed. "Why do you think that's the only reason?"
"I saw your notes," Ron said. "Remember."
Hermione pressed her lips together. "Okay," she said.
"I'm sorry."
"No, it's fine," Hermione replied, shaking her head and feeling stupid. "There were… other exercises. Other things in one of those books. Did you read to that point yet?"
"I'm a slower reader than you," Ron said, shaking his head apologetically.
"That's okay," Hermione said quickly. "It's just… could we try something from one of those?"
"Yeah," Ron said. He leaned forward, lining her jaw with his hand and kissed her.
Hermione licked her lips and stood up. She took out her wand, clearing the coffee table to the side with the boxes that hadn't been removed just yet. She reached out for Ron's hand. He stood and followed her lead, sitting right across from her. Hermione scooted forward until her knees touched his.
"Okay, let me see your hands," Hermione said. Ron reached out and she took his hands in hers. She cleared her throat. "This, er… this one, we're supposed to just make eye contact."
"And then what?" Ron asked skeptically.
"Just that," Hermione said. "Four to five minutes. Just eye contact. No talking, either."
"Okay," Ron said. "I think I can manage that."
They sat. Hermione watched his eyes, concentrating on the lines—not quite wrinkles—that were developing on the outside. She was sure his irises were more vibrant than they used to be. Her hands felt clammy, hoping this would feel right. That they would be able to manage something, even if it was as simple as watching one another.
They sat for thirty seconds, a minute, a minute and a half. Close to two minutes in, Ron's grin was growing, more and more amused. Hermione tilted her head at him, distracted from the task at hand. A moment later Ron laughed and Hermione's cheeks burned. She felt ridiculous. She felt the sudden need to get out.
She pulled her hands from Ron's and stood.
"Hermione, wait," he said. She was already to her jacket by the time he stood up. "No, Hermione—"
She opened the door and slammed it behind her, taking the steps quickly as she put on her jacket. Her feet crunched the snow before she realized she had forgotten her shoes. Not wanting to turn back, Hermione took out her wand, performing a warming charm and walking down the alley.
"Hermione!" Ron shouted after her from the landing outside his flat, but she didn't turn around.
Hermione hurried away, wiping furiously at tears, cold against her skin. Once she was in an open space, she apparated home. Fumbling with her keys, she opened the front door and went to her room. She didn't want to stay alone tonight. She would go be part of the sleepover at Harry and Ginny's.
Hermione packed an overnight bag, zipping it up with shaky hands. She sunk into the mattress, feeling stupid and foolish and hopeless.
