A Second Chance: Chapter Three:
Ron woke up the following morning with a terrible stomach ache, and a broken heart. At the moment, he couldn't decide which was worse, but he found, to his surprise, as he smelled eggs wafting up from the kitchen, that the former hurt the most.
He raised his arms above him and stretched. He also caught a whiff of what he smelled like, and grimaced. He hopped into the shower across the hall, and groaned when he realized that Ginny's shampoo was the same that Lavender had always used.
So much for the stomach hurting worse.
After brushing his teeth and getting dressed, Ron bounded down the stairs and sat at the kitchen table, sniffing as if he'd never smell again. His mother smiled at him, and Ginny rolled her eyes from across the table.
After stuffing his face, Ron asked Ginny, "Where's Harry?"
She replied, "Still in bed," and Ron, forgetting that Harry and she were actually married, became mildly upset.
Sensing his anger, Ginny frowned at him. "Just because you skipped out of our wedding doesn't mean we weren't actually married." She flashed her ring in front of his face, and Ron self consciously rubbed his ring finger, the one he'd taken Lavenders ring off of last night.
Grimacing, Ron said, "I'm sorry, Gin, I really am."
Ginny just shrugged and twirled her spoon between two fingers. Ron sighed, and then Percy sat down next to him.
"So, Ronald. What are you going to do today?" he asked.
Ron, without pondering it all, blurted out, "I'm quitting my job."
George, who had just walked into the room, and everyone else in the kitchen stared at him.
He explained. "Lavender told me to get that job, and I hate it anyway."
Then to himself, he confirmed, "Yeah. I'm quitting my job."
Tomorrow, he thought.
He grinned at them all stupidly and Ginny giggled, her anger obviously abating. Ron poked her in the shoulder and she rubbed at it, before Harry sat down next to her.
"'Morning," he said, yawning.
Ron watched as Ginny kissed Harry's cheek, and both of their eyes lit up, before they turned and stared at each other intently. Ron watched as their fingers laced on the top of the table, and he pushed his chair back, scraping it against the floor.
He fled from the room, and found himself in the attic soon after, rocking himself back and forth on his heels.
He knew he wasn't feeling resentment towards Harry being married to his little sister, but he felt immensely jealous at what they had, and what he would never have again. He remembered how in love he and Lavender had been their first year of marriage but stopped in his pacing for a moment.
What if Lavender had never really loved him? What if their marriage had always been a scam? What if she'd been cheating the whole-
He didn't allow himself to finish that thought.
After watching his parents love each other through everything, for over 24 years, and knowing they'd loved each other even before all that time, Ron thought he knew what real love was. It was loving someone so much that no matter what happened, you wanted to stick by them, and be their hero. You loved them so much that nothing could change your love.
He thought cheating on a loved one was the worst possible thing you could to that person, or yourself, your soul. And so he couldn't comprehend why Lavender had done such a thing to him, for such a long time: When had he mistaken her true character, and been blinded by his love for her?
Ron hadn't a clue.
He sat down against the wall, his hands balled into fists, and tears welling up in his eyes again. He stood up angrily again, and was about to punch another wall, when he thought to himself, Be a man, Ronald Weasley. Be the man you once were.
He turned to his left and saw a mirror, half covered in a white sheet, dust all over his reflection.
He walked over to it, swept the dust away, pulled the sheet down, and then grimaced at his reflection.
Then, feeling completely idiotic, he whispered to himself, "Be the man you are."
He stayed there, staring at the mirror, trying to find himself, until he heard someone calling for him. With one last glance at himself, he left, his hands clenching and unclenching as he walked down the stairs.
He went into the kitchen and tapped his mother on the shoulder.
"You wanted to see me?" he asked her.
She shook her head, laughing. "Just wondering where you were, dear."
She smiled genuinely at him, but to Ron is seemed a pitying smile.
Frowning again, he sat down at the kitchen table quietly, and stared out the window above the sink. He sat like that for a few minutes, in complete silence, before deciding a walk would be good for him.
He headed out the front door, and began walking in the direction of the orchard where he had often played Quidittch before. A thick layer of dry, compacted snow covered the ground, and Ron shivered, though the sun happened to be out. He looked too far up in the sky and was momentarily blinded. Moving his eyes downward, he saw thick, white clouds on the horizon, and stared at them as he walked.
He tried not to think about anything, and found it easier than he expected.
He was almost to the orchard when the sight of a rotten, snow covered apple core reminded him of his rotten marriage and he found he couldn't hold back memories any longer.
He remembered their honeymoon, the day they bought the apartment, when he applied for his soon to be ex- job, and countless other times with Lavender: But then his brained skipped even farther backward.
As he closed his eyes, he saw behind his lids the image of Dumbledore's Funeral, 8 years previous. Hermione had her head on his shoulder, and tears were streaming down her red, round face. He remembered what her hair had felt like beneath his hand as he had stroked her head, and his fingers went limp, in the present. He shivered involuntarily, before he opened his eyes, and shook his head, walking up the steep hill to the top of the orchard.
He sat down on a bench under a goal post, and put his face in his hands, eyes still open. He studied the lines on his palm in the dark, and breathed more quickly than usual.
Sitting up quickly, Ron realized that flying would do him more for his mental health than walking.
He pulled out his wand, muttered, "Accio broomstick," while pointing in the direction of the house, and then wached as an old clean sweep flew towards him.
Grasping it near the tail, he pulled the broom under him and rose quickly off the snowy ground, cold wind whistling in his ear. Soon, he was near the top of the goalpost, and he stayed still for a moment, staring off in the direction of The Lovegood's strange house.
Shaking his head to keep him from remembering anything in particular, Ron rose higher into the air and began to circle around the orchard.
He realized that he hadn't been flying in at least a year, and silently cursed Lavender for doing that to him as well. Ron groaned and told himself to stop thinking, before he flew back towards the burrow.
He circled the room that had once been both Fred's and George's near the top of the house, before slowly declining. He ended up staring into the room he knew Hermione had been staying in the night he arrived, and looked around the interior.
There were a couple of books left on the floor by the bed, and a few wrinkled shirts lying on the floor. The bed wasn't made and he saw a wilting flower in a vase by the bathroom.
Hermione had obviously left in haste that night. After realizing this, Ron felt something swell in his stomach that he didn't have a name for.
He just knew he felt like shit.
Shaking his head in anger at his stupid self again, Ron flew down to the ground, and hopped swiftly off the broom.
As he walked back inside, he realized he didn't feel any better.