Okay guys, I seriously apologize for the immensely long wait on this chapter. No excuses. Here ya go. We are one, possibly two, chapters away from the end of this!
"I can't keep having this same fight with you, Ron." Harry said, pacing the plush living room of their suite.
"I'm not asking for much, just a couple of weeks, if we just had more time--" Ron began heatedly, but Harry shook his head.
"I can't do that. I can't ask Ginny to postpone the wedding, and you know it. She'll want a reason, she'll want to know why. And she'll want the truth. What, do you want me to tell her about us? That I'm fucking her brother, that I love him?"
Ron sighed, trying to calm himself down. Now was not the time to have a blow up. He wanted this to be a rational discussion, and more than that, he did not want to end up fighting with Harry.
"I just don't want to surrender you. Not yet. Not ever." Ron said, his voice almost a whisper, and he rose from the chaise lounge to stand in front of Harry. He was, as he'd always been, taller than Harry, by about six inches.
"I know, I know." Harry said soothingly, wrapping his arms around Ron's waist. "Logically the only way that can ever happen is for us to split on the girls."
Ron shook his head. "I couldn't do that to Hermione, she's like my sister...not to mention that I couldn't do that to Ginny, my actual sister. Harry, I want to tell them the truth. I want them to know about us, and then I want us to leave. Forever."
Harry wanted to agree, to say yes, to leave their room right now and Apparate back home, to tell all and finally be free, to live the rest of his life with Ron. But it just wasn't possible. They had too many obligations, both with Ginny and Hermione, the rest of the Weasleys, the Ministry.
But on the same hand, he was sick, so goddamn sick, of all the responsibilities. He'd done his part, hadn't he? Voldemort had been defeated, and that should've been the end of it. His birthright to wizarding society had been fulfilled, the Prophecy completed. Hadn't he earned the right to live a peaceful life with the person he loved?
As he looked up into Ron's blue eyes, he knew, finally, what needed to be done, what had to be done.
"Alright," Harry said, taking a deep breath, "let's go."
---
Ginny wondered if this was the last time she'd see Hermione like this, so needing and wanting her, but that was ridiculous, they had ages before her wedding. Her wedding. When she was little she'd always pictured her wedding, the beautiful white gown she would wear, the happiness she'd feel.
It wasn't that she didn't love Harry, or that the idea of spending her life with him made her cringe away in disgust. Truly, Harry was a part of her. They'd been through Hell and back together, and it was right, really, that they be joined in marriage. But it wasn't fair to him, because her heart and lust and hopes and dreams would always be with another.
"Don't, love." Hermione said, leaning forward to kiss Ginny's forehead. "Just don't think about it. Be in the moment, be with me in the moment, okay?"
Before Hermione could bring her lips to Ginny's, a loud crack rang through the air and the girls sprang apart as though scalded.
"Miss Ginny, Miss Ginny!" Kreacher, panting, huffed, looking wildly around.
"I'm here Kreacher, what is it?" Ginny said, placing a hand on Kreacher's arm.
"Master Harry, he is looking for you! You and Miss Hermione, he and his Weezy!"
Hermione and Ginny's eyes met, and one thought resounded through them: fuck.
---
It took ten minutes for Hermione and Ginny to rush around the hotel suite, gathering their things and dressing in their most casual clothes. They had already decided they would not lie about coming here. They had simply wanted to take a break from all the wedding planning, and since Harry and Ron were away, it seemed like a good time to just have a girl's getaway.
They slung their luggage over their shoulders and held hands. They didn't say what they both were thinking, that this was probably the last time they would be alone with each other. If Harry and Ron had the slightest suspicions about them, about they had been doing here, they would have to call their affair off.
"Wait." It was Ginny, pulling Hermione back. "Let's tell them."
Hermione laughed, then stopped quickly when Ginny raised an eyebrow, nothing but seriousness on her face. "Have you lost your mind?" Hermione asked, incredulous.
"No. Maybe. I don't know. What I do know is that I'm fucking sick of sharing you, of hiding. I think we should tell Ron and Harry about us. It's only fair, and I hate living a lie."
Hermione had to agree with that, with it all, actually. "But, we just can't--Ron is going to have a heart attack, and then Harry will have about three strokes, what are we even going to say? How in the hell do you start that conversation?"
"You say "Ron, I don't like dick, and I'm not marrying you." I say "Harry, I've fallen in love with your best friend, and I don't like dick."
Hermione was glaring by the time Ginny finished. "This is not funny. I'm serious."
"As am I. This is what we want to happen, isn't it? To come out into the open with our relationship?"
"Well yes, in a perfect world, but--"
Ginny covered Hermione's mouth with her own for a moment, then pulled away. "No buts, Hermione. I love you, and I am not losing you. You agreed to marry me, remember?" Ginny reached over and held up Hermione's left hand, where the sapphire butterfly gleamed at them.
Hermione took a deep breath, then nodded. They held hands again, and with a crack, Disapparated.
---
Harry and Ron were waiting in the drawing room on the first floor of the house, both drinking liberally from their glasses. Kreacher had refilled them twice already, with Harry's preferred white wine label. They were both jittery, but the wine was helping that. Their resolve wavered with each passing second, but then they would look each other, emerald eyes melting into blue topaz ones, and they knew that this, truly, was what they wanted.
They had been somewhat surprised when they'd arrived home, to find the house empty, save for Kreacher who was polishing the china. The elf informed the boys that Hermione and Ginny had gone away to a Quidditch game, but that he could find them easily. Hermione had actually told Kreacher the name of the hotel and the room number that she and Ginny would be staying in, if he needed them.
So when they walked in--Ginny in the lead, Hermione almost cowering behind her, the first thing Harry did was hand them each a glass of wine. He figured this would at least relax them, possibly soften them up. One thing he knew about Ginny was that she loved her alcohol, the form so much didn't matter, and she didn't have Harry's appreciation for wine, but she enjoyed drinking.
"So," Hermione said, her voice shaking, though Ginny was the only one who noticed this, "is there something wrong? Did something happen at work?"
Ron and Harry glanced at each other for a split second, then Ron let out a low breath. "Hermione, I can't marry you." His words almost ran together, were fast, like somebody ripping a bandage off of a scrape or a cut, and in the immense and heavy silence that followed, Harry did the only thing he could do--he placed his hand on Ron's knee, and looked squarely at Ginny, who was holding her wine glass at an angle, a steady drip of Zinfandel pouring onto the carpet.
"Ginny," He said, his eyes wide and almost apologetic, "I can't marry you either."
"Well," Hermione said, her voice stronger now, breaking through the surprise, "this is an interesting turn of events."
She turned to look at Ginny, who stared back at her, something Hermione couldn't quite recognize in her eyes. She cleared her throat, and nodded. "Interesting to say the least. Might you tell us why you won't marry us?" Ginny said, realizing the angle of her glass and tipping it back into her mouth, gulping the contents in one sip. Kreacher hurried from the corner to refill it.
"Well, it's complicated, you see," Harry said, but Hermione interrupted him.
"Ginny, don't you think we should--?"
Ginny sighed, took another long gulp of wine, and stood up, handing her glass to Hermione. "Okay, here's the deal. You won't marry me," Ginny pointed to Harry, "and Ron won't marry Hermione. I think it's pretty obvious why," Ginny indicated Harry's hand on Ron's knee, "and while I am extremely shocked, it really doesn't matter."
"Oh? And why not?" Ron piped up, indignant. He didn't expect his and Harry's love to just be thrown aside because Ginny deemed it unimportant.
"Because she's asked me to marry her." Hermione said, lifting her left up to show Ron and Harry the butterfly ring. "And I've said yes."
"So you see, while you've been doing Merlin knows what behind our backs, we've been doing Merlin knows what behind yours."
In any other situation, a normal situation, each side would demand to know how long, the details, why, and so on and so forth. There would be tantrums and sobbing and things would be hurled across the room, glass shattered and demands for one party to get the hell out. This, though, wasn't a normal situation, and each of the four actually thought it almost humorous, ironic.
"You love her?" Harry asked Ginny, pointed at Hermione.
Ginny smiled. "Eternally. And you love him?" Ginny took her glass from Hermione and waved it in Ron's direction.
"Undoubtedly. And how long, might I ask, have you loved her?"
"I'd say probably as long as you've loved Ron."
"Touche, then."
"Indeed."
"I guess some rearranging needs to be done, then?" Hermione said. "I mean, now that we all know about each other, we'll want to be having different roommates, I'm sure."
Ron nodded. "Yes, yes. Shouldn't we talk about...you know, splitting everything? I mean, do we all still want to live here?"
"I don't know how much work you've put into this house, Ronald, but I have worked my arse off to make this dive presentable, and I will not be vacating it. You and Harry can have whatever room you like, and likewise with Hermione and me."
"We're still mates, right? All of us. We still mean something to each other." Harry said, meeting eyes with everybody in the room.
"Of course we are." Hermione said soothingly, getting up to give Harry a hug. "We just don't have to hide anymore."
"Well what about the weddings? What about our families?" Ginny asked, holding out her now-empty glass for more wine.
"We have no clue." Ron admitted. "Can you imagine mum's face when we tell her that I'm in love with Harry and you like chicks? She's going to have a cow."
"Bugger." Ginny agreed, sitting on the couch.
"Well," Harry said, "who says they have to know?"
Finally, right? It's out in the open! I know I know, I promised Hermione/Ginny smut in this chapter, but do you honestly think I'd end this story without it? Leave your feedback, it will have a good home in my inbox ;)