Chapter 10:
Over the next three weeks, Ron felt like he spent half of his time moving his things out of his old apartment, and half with Hermione. When she was busy at work, Ron would pack his clothes into a suitcase, and then bring them home to the Burrow. He was running out of room for all of his belongings in his tiny bed room, and though she didn't say anything, he knew that it was harder for his mother having another person back in the house. He promised himself he would look for a home of his own when the divorce was final.
One day, as he unpacked a box full of junk from the apartment, he found an old photo album. He flipped through it quickly, but nothing caught his eye from scanning it, so he sat down beside his bed and began to look through it. The first 10 pages were stuffed with pictures of his family before he went to Hogwarts. But on the eleventh page he saw the first one of him at Hogwarts. He, Harry, and Hermione were at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, grinning ear to ear, a plate of food in front of each of them. It looked like he had a stain on his shirt, and Harry's hair was sticking up all over, but Hermione looked prim and proper, though her teeth were quite large. He watched in amusement as Hermione wiped something off of his chin with her napkin and wondered who had taken this picture. It looked to be from their first year.
He saw how they'd all grown up as he continued through the album, and smiled at a picture of Dumbledore's Army from fifth year. The last picture was one of him and Lavender on the day they'd announced their engagement. He grimaced at the sight of Lavender showing her ring off at the camera and half sighed, half laughed at the sight of Ginny rolling her eyes. The rest of his family looked a little shocked, and slightly unnerved behind his old self and Lavender.
Ron closed the photo album and set it on his bed: He then began to continue looking through the box from the apartment, but he found he couldn't concentrate. He sighed and stood up, before scanning his cluttered room for his Broom. He saw the tail end of it sticking out from under a large pile of wrinkled shirts and stepped over a few boxes to bend down and grab it. He then headed out of his bedroom door and hopped down the steps. Once in the kitchen, he poured himself a glass of orange juice and drank it in a few loud gulps. He set his glass down on the kitchen counter and slung his broom over his right shoulder.
The sun shone high in the sky outside, and Ron was momentarily blinded. He fumbled down the Porch steps, and walked across the lawn, regaining his vision. Multicolored flowers were blooming around the yard, and the sky was cloudless. A slightly chilly breeze blew the hair out of Ron's face as he mounted his broom, and ascended into the air. He laughed out loud as a bird flew past his face by barely an inch, and he continued to rise higher. Then he headed towards the hill with the goal posts and landed in the grass. All of the sudden, he didn't feel like flying.
He sat down cross-legged and fiddled with the grass in front of him. Something didn't feel right to him at that moment, though he'd been very happy over the past few weeks. Having Lavender almost officially out of his life was such a blessing, as he'd realized. He felt freer than ever, almost as if he had his innocence back, and he was still living life day to day.
He uncrossed his legs and lay back in the grass, closing his eyes. He breathed in and out slowly, and found that Hermione was the one thing he couldn't stop himself from thinking about. He tried to remember what it was they'd stop seeing each other over, but his memory was clouded, and nothing came to him.
I must've said something really terrible, he thought, because our friendship couldn't have been ruined over something stupid.
Ron laid there for a while, just thinking, and then he flew back inside and finished unpacking what he hoped was one of the last boxes.
Six days passed too quickly for Ron: And so the night before his Divorce Trial at the Ministry, Hermione came over to help him prepare. They were in his room, with the window open and a small table set up before them. It was covered in note cards Hermione had prepared for him to read his arguments off of.
She handed him a particularly long argument. He read the first few lines, nodding along, and he wondered how Hermione knew exactly how he now felt about Lavender: How bored he'd been all along, how she'd over exerted control on him, and how she had blatantly destroyed him when she defied him. But Hermione had always been much too smart.
He looked up at her from the card. She was biting her bottom lip, and twisting a strand of hair tightly around her pinkie finger: It seemed to him as if she expected him to be disappointed with what she'd wrote, but she couldn't have been more spot on. But he didn't give that much thought as she licked the spot where she'd bitten her lip, and let go of her hair.
"I think you'll be fine tomorrow," she said.
Ron made himself look away from her lip and up at her eyes. He nodded, and pulled back from the table, realizing then that he'd been leaning farther and farther over it.
She sighed, and pushed her chair backwards before standing and walking to look out the window, rubbing her left arm up and down with her right hand.
"You OK?" Ron asked her.
"Of course," she said, but she didn't turn around and it made Ron a little wary.
He finished reading the note card, before putting it down and saying, "I honestly can't prepare any longer. My mind is going to explode. Should we go down to dinner?"
Hermione turned around and nodded, before smiling slightly and Ron returned the smile. He held the door open for her and walked down the stairs, wishing she'd go a little faster. They entered the Living Room, and found Harry and Ginny on the couch, Molly across from them in a chair. Ron sat down on the window seat, and Hermione sat beside him.
"Thought of any baby names yet?" His mother asked Ginny.
Ginny shook her head.
"Well," Molly said, noticing Hermione and Ron had entered the room, "That's all in good time. What have you two been up to?"
"Preparing for the Trial tomorrow," Hermione said. "I think we- I think he's ready for it."
Ginny raised an eyebrow at Hermione, which confused Ron. A moment of awkward silence passed between all the people in the room, but then Ginny shook her head and stood up. "I think it's time for dinner, don't you?" She pulled Harry off the couch, and Hermione stood up and followed them out.
Molly looked at her son for a moment, smiled, and said, "I'm excited for you Ron. You've got a lot of good ahead of you."
Ron gulped, because her statement sounded a lot like a demand for something. But his mother stood up, and went into the kitchen.
"How does spaghetti sound?" she asked the crowd waiting there. Ron looked out the window at the setting sun for a few minutes, trying to figure what his mother meant. But it wasn't until dinner, when he spilled his water all over Hermione and she just blushed, that he realized what she'd meant.
Walk through the Atrium. Count and recount the forms in your hands. Avoid Hermione's worried glance. Step, step, step… Breath: This was list of commands that Ron told himself to follow. Now that the trial was less than 10 minutes away, Ron was frantic. He kept going over everything in his head and he'd relived the moment he'd found Lavender unfaithful a thousand times, each more horrific than the last.
Ron entered an empty lift, forgot to hold the door open for Hermione and jammed the button for the seventh floor. Hermione slipped in at the last possible moment and shot Ron a very concerned glance. "Everything's going to be fine," she told him.
"How do you know?" Ron snapped at her. Hermione flinched, and he instantly regretted saying anything. "I'm sorry… I'm just really nervous."
Embarrassed, he turned away from her and fiddled with the bottom of his shirt. A moment passed, but then he felt Hermione slip her soft, warm hand into his and slowly pry his fingers away from the fabric before squeezing his hand tightly.
She whispered, "Are you sure you want to go through with this? That you don't… love her?"
Ron looked down at their entwined hands and then up at Hermione's face: her eyes were sparkling in the dim lighting of the lift, and a twisted strand of her hair had fallen out of her headband, and tickled her nose. Without thinking, he raised his free hand and tucked it behind her ear. Her eyelids fluttered close as his skin brushed hers softly, Goosebumps rose on the soft skin of her cheeks, and he realized they were both blushing. He felt his stomach swoop when the lift reached his floor, but didn't think it had anything to do with the sudden stop.
Hermione didn't seem to have noticed, and her eyes stayed close. Ron found he couldn't speak, so he just stood still and kept Hermione's hand in his. But their moment was interrupted by a quiet, yet obviously intentional cough, and Ron turned to find Lavender standing right outside the golden doors of the lift.
Hermione opened her eyes, and looked first at Ron, then Lavender, before letting go of Ron's hand, and stepping quickly out of the lift. Ron shook his head to clear his jumbled thoughts, before following Hermione out of the lift. Lavender looked him up and down, and her eyes rested on the dark circles under his eyes, due to the sleepless night he'd had before. She rolled her eyes, before turning and staring at her reflection in a mirror on her left. She smiled cheekily at herself, before turning back to Hermione, looking her up and down, and smirking.
Right then Ron knew he was sure.
"In answer to your question, 'Mione, Yes, I am positive I am doing the right thing." Hermione beamed and Lavender scowled, because the original question was pretty obvious. Lavender turned and walked away.
They made their way down a short hallway and reached a black, ominous looking door: Ron gulped and grabbed the door knob, before turning it the wrong way and having to try again. This time, he made sure to hold the door wide open.
The room they entered was small, but the ceiling towered above them. There were two empty tables, with a few chairs, facing an elevated table Ron assumed was for the judge.
Hermione led him to the table on the right, and pulled out two chairs. He sat down in one of them and looked around nervously.
Lavender settled down in the chair farthest from Ron, and Hermione took the papers from him because he was starting to crumple them up.
A few minutes later, a woman in a white robe closed the door behind her, strode over to the table and took the papers from Hermione, before taking her time to reach the table in the back of the room. She sat down in her chair and smiled, but it didn't calm Ron at all.
"So, you've requested a divorce under Wizarding Law VVII, Mr…" she looked down at her papers, "Weasley?"
"Yes Ma'am," Ron choked out.
"And you requested an equal share of the assets?"
Lavender spoke up. "I didn't agree to that! I want a bigger share!"
Hermione looked at her, then the Judge, and said, "Your Honor, if I may, she signed the papers and it says in the print that the assets should be split in half."
"And who are you?" the Judge asked.
"I'm… just a friend of… Mr. Weasley's, but I work in the ministry and-"
"Thank you Ms.-?"
"Granger, Ma'am."
"Yes, that will be enough."
Hermione nodded her head adamantly and then she sat back farther in her chair.
"I'm going to read through the files, and then I will deliberate," the Judge said. She turned herself around in her chair, and disappeared behind the back of it. Ron looked to Hermione for suggestions, but she didn't say anything. She just nodded her head as if to say, You're through.
And Ron discovered she was right.