A/N: Thanks as always to everyone that's been reading. :) You're awesome. This chapter has been in the works for awhile, and I've been a bit nervous to write it because it's kind of angsty. Of course, this is the wazlib88 version of angst –I can't stand to write Ron/Hermione too unhappy for too long. So…here goes. I look forward to receiving feedback and/or any suggestions you may have!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I have already run out of creative ways to say this.
"The Last Time He Walked Away"
20 October 2000
Hermione Granger was late and she knew it. She had been meant to meet Ron at Grimmauld Place nearly half an hour ago. Harry was gone visiting Ginny at a training camp in France, so they'd have the whole house to themselves. However, one thing had led to another and instead of cooking dinner with Ron, Hermione was in her department's meeting room with two of her coworkers. This was to be expected, somewhat; she'd been promoted to Second Assistant to the Chair a few weeks back, which was a huge accomplishment for someone who'd only been in the department for a year. The addition of new duties was inevitable, and Hermione welcomed it; however, she had to admit it had come at a cost.
She and Ron were seeing less of each other than either one of them would have liked. They used to spend four or five nights a week together; lately, they were lucky to have two. Ron's work schedule had always been something they needed to work around, since it was subject to change on a whim. Hermione's was still constant, but lately it had become extended. Ron insisted she was doing more work than she was required to do, but she dismissed his complaints. "After all," she'd told him as she dressed hurriedly after a quick mid-day rendezvous at her flat a few weeks prior, "how can I possibly continue to advance in my career if I can't handle a simple promotion?"
But soon, even those lunchtime meet-ups had become nonexistent, and Ron didn't seem to realize that it frustrated Hermione just as much as him. It was simply that she saw the purpose for it more clearly. He hadn't liked that reasoning when she'd presented it, but she knew it was true. It was easy for him, after all—his supervisors loved him. She felt as though she had yet to prove herself.
This weekend, though, she'd been planning to give her boyfriend some proper attention. She'd worked days ahead on all her case files and was set to spend two and a half days focused solely on Ron. They'd both been looking forward to tonight. It had been four nights since Ron had last stayed over, which was an eternity by their standards. Hermione had been anxiously waiting until she could go home to him all day. She even had every intention of ducking out early, but one of her supervisors, Mr. Cooper, had called a last minute meeting to discuss the presentation they were meant to give at a conference on Monday.
They'd been working for months on a maltreatment case regarding a dragon range in Scotland, and only now were they able to present their findings and possibly do something about it. Hermione had put a lot into the project; in fact, Mr. Cooper had been so appreciative that he'd put her name on it. This was the first case that she'd had her name directly attached to, and she was desperate to ensure that it was done to the best of her ability. She had prepared for weeks and was confident that Monday would go well, but Mr. Cooper had wanted to give one last briefing to Hermione and her partner on the case, Maureen Darvill, before they left for the weekend. Hermione had agreed reluctantly and sent a quick owl to Ron, explaining the situation and telling him to expect her at six. It was now six-thirty and they were still not quite done.
"I've got these visual aids to explain the studies conducted by Ms. Newport. No need to risk any misunderstandings, so they've been simplified as much as possible without jeopardizing the quality of the information," Maureen was saying. Hermione quite liked Maureen. They were similar in a lot of ways, both hard-working and fairly young in comparison to the rest of the department. There was no one else Hermione would rather be working with on this project.
"Indeed. Well, ladies, I think this all looks very promising. But since I won't be able to accompany you on Monday, if we could just go over one more—say, Ms. Granger, isn't that a friend of yours?" Mr. Cooper asked, pointing out the scratched up window next to the door.
Hermione spun around in her seat and winced. It was, in fact, Ron Weasley who was looking through the window, and he did not look pleased. "I'm sorry, Mr. Cooper, if you could just give me a moment—"
"Actually, why don't we just head out for the evening? I didn't realize I'd kept you so late. Go home and enjoy yourselves, we'll finish going over the details early on Monday morning," Mr. Cooper said, standing and gathering his papers. Hermione and Maureen thanked him as he left the room with a nod toward Ron.
"Did you and Ron have plans tonight?" Maureen asked as they collected their materials. "If you do, then never mind, but I'm meant to meet up with Jacob for drinks with the rest of his squad at the Leaky. I was just thinking…he and Ron sort of knew each other, and it might be nice to have a couple of familiar faces there."
"Of course we'll come," Hermione replied without a second thought. "We were just going to lounge around tonight anyhow."
"Oh, thank you so much," Maureen said, obviously relieved. "This is the first time I'm meeting his friends, and it's a bit out of my comfort zone."
"I don't mind at all," Hermione said understandingly as they left the meeting room to put their things back at their respective desks. Immediately after she was through the door, Ron was at Hermione's side.
"Do you realize what the time is?" he asked impatiently. "I was getting worried!"
"It's just gone six-thirty," Hermione said sharply. "And I sent you an owl, you knew where I was."
"You're still half an hour late," he grumbled.
"I can't control the demands of my job," Hermione said testily. "Did you bring your wallet? Maureen asked if we'd come to the Leaky for awhile. You know her boyfriend Jacob, she's getting drinks with his squad tonight and I told her we'd love to tag along."
"You did?" Ron asked, clearly unamused. "But—"
"I know we were going to spend some time together tonight. I just thought since we've got all weekend, we could do this for my friend. Besides, it'll be fun!" Hermione said, filing the last of her papers and pulling out her coat.
"We haven't got all weekend. I promised George we'd look after the shop while he's with Ange tomorrow," Ron reminded her, frowning. "I can't believe you forgot."
"Oh, of course! I didn't forget; it just slipped my mind with the presentation and all," Hermione finished putting on her coat and dug out her wand to secure her desk before shooting Ron a smile. "Still, we'll be together. Maybe not alone the whole time, but you must admit it's still an improvement."
Ron didn't look appeased, but he too managed to pull what Hermione could tell was a somewhat forced smile. "Let's do drinks, then."
"Thank you," Hermione said, taking and squeezing his hand quickly before letting go and leading the way to Maureen's desk. Within minutes, the three found themselves in the Leaky Cauldron. Ron immediately walked to the bar and ordered a firewhiskey. Hermione frowned—he'd normally avoid hard liquor when he was with her. Deciding to mask her distaste for the time being, she took the seat next to him and ordered a butterbeer for herself. She'd only been drunk once in her life and tonight was not the night to change that.
Maureen sat next to Hermione and anxiously watched the door. "They should be here in about ten minutes, I think. Do you know his squad well, Ron?"
"Not particularly," Ron grunted. "Our work's normally pretty separate. Jacob's a good bloke though."
"He is, isn't he?" Maureen said a bit dreamily. "It's such a relief, to be honest, to find somebody like him. I never did like dating very much. The two of you are so lucky, really, to have found each other so quickly."
Hermione was pleased to see Ron was able to manage a half smile at this comment. "Cheers," he said, raising his glass before downing half of it in one go.
"Are the two of you getting serious, then?" Hermione asked Maureen.
"I think so," the elder girl replied, "which is why I was a bit nervous about meeting his friends, you see. Thank you both so much for coming along."
"We're glad to," Hermione said warmly, willing Ron not to make his reservations known. Luckily, he remained silent.
"Oh, there they are," Maureen said, waving at the tall blonde man who'd just entered the pub. He was accompanied by five other men in their mid-twenties. The group made their way to the bar, each one greeting Ron briefly and acknowledging Hermione—it was common knowledge among many in the wizarding community that Harry Potter's best friends were something of an item.
The evening continued pleasantly enough. Hermione always liked spending time with Maureen, and Jacob was enjoyable company as well. His squad was a bit rowdy, especially after having a few, but the spectacle they made was more entertaining than anything else. Even Ron had managed to put on a sociable front, though Hermione could tell he still wasn't entirely invested in their change of plans. She made a mental note to thank him properly later on.
It was nearly nine when Ron apparently decided he couldn't take it anymore. Hermione had been chatting amicably with Maureen, having left Ron to brood with the other men at least twenty minutes prior, when she felt his hand on the small of her back.
"I'm ready to go," he announced decisively before she'd even had the chance to turn around all the way.
"Ron—" Hermione began to protest; but upon seeing the touch of anger that lay behind the pleasant façade he'd put up, she decided it was best not to argue. Turning back to Maureen, she continued, "It really is getting sort of late, and we've got a bit of an early day tomorrow."
"Oh, of course! Thank you for coming at all," Maureen said warmly, hugging Hermione quickly and squeezing Ron gently on the shoulder. "I'll see you Monday, Hermione!" With that, she made her way back over to Jacob, who greeted her with a wide smile and wrapped an arm around her. Hermione smiled. It was lovely to see her coworker—her friend—so happy.
She could only reflect on this for a minute though. Before she was entirely sure what was happening, Ron had summoned their coats, tossed hers to her unceremoniously, and grabbed her wrist tightly, leading her through the crowded pub to the door.
"Ouch, Ron!" Hermione protested as they stepped out into the chilly London air. To his credit, Ron immediately loosened his grip on her wrist.
"Sorry," he mumbled grumpily, not looking at her as he walked them into the nearest alleyway. Once it seemed the coast was clear, Ron pulled Hermione a little closer and turned on the spot. The next moment, they were standing on the doorstep of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.
Ron still wouldn't meet her eyes as he unlocked the door with his wand and stomped inside, chucking his coat on the landing of the staircase as he made his way to the kitchen. Hermione frowned and hung hers up properly, hesitating for a moment before doing the same to his. She slipped her shoes off quickly before following him.
"We had plans," he said in a low voice once she'd entered the room. Hermione bit her lip as she looked around; the various cooking supplies and ingredients that lay untouched made her feel a twinge of guilt. "I bought everything to make spaghetti," he said in explanation. Hermione looked up. He was finally meeting her gaze again, at least.
"I'm sorry," Hermione said as sincerely as she could. "I didn't think you'd mind. We were still together, after all, and Maureen's a good friend."
"You thought I wouldn't mind?" Ron asked incredulously. "Hermione, I've been looking forward to this night all week!"
"So have I!" Hermione shot back, stomping her foot angrily.
"So why'd you have to go and plan over it?" Ron demanded.
"I honestly didn't think you would mind doing this one nice thing!" Hermione replied exasperatedly. "Now please, Ron, I don't want to make an argument out of this—"
"Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to change our plans without so much as asking me," Ron said in a dangerously calm voice before turning to clean up the things lying on the kitchen counter.
"I said I was sorry!" Hermione said. She could hear the shrillness in her voice, but simply couldn't stop herself. "I don't know what else you want from me!"
"It's not just about the stupid pub," Ron said, shoving a bowl into a cupboard with more force than was strictly necessary.
"Oh, then what's it about?" Hermione challenged.
"Your fucking job, for starters," Ron said, finally raising his voice as he turned back around to face her. The six feet of space between them felt suffocating. Hermione didn't know how else to react but to fire back.
"I am not having this argument again!" Hermione shrieked. "You can't possibly get mad at me for having a job, Ron!"
"And you can't expect me to like it when you decide your job is more important than this!" he shot back, gesturing between the two of them.
"You want to bring us into this then? Fine! Let's talk about how you're supposed to support me, especially when it comes to my job, which, by the way, I love, thank you very much for asking!"
"Oh, of course, I'm ever so happy you've found something that can effectively replace your friends and family! Never needed them anyway," Ron scoffed.
"Are you joking, or are you just thick?" Hermione asked, adopting what was really a cruel tone.
"Tomorrow managed to slip your mind, did it not?"
"Oh, give it a rest! I knew we had something going," Hermione protested.
"Right, something," Ron said sarcastically before turning away again, bracing his hands on the countertop and taking a deep breath.
"Look, Ron," Hermione said in a calmer voice, taking a tentative step in his direction. "My job is really important to me, you know that."
"But aren't I?" he asked. What hurt Hermione most was that his voice wasn't quite so angry anymore—instead, it was broken. This was, she decided immediately, far worse than any of the shouting matches they'd had in their younger years. It might not have been quite so loud and explosive, but the stakes were so much higher now.
"Don't be daft, you know you are," Hermione said reflexively. "Look, I don't enjoy the negative aspects of this situation any more than you do."
"Then why don't you do something about it?" Ron asked bitterly, turning around once more. Hermione couldn't bring herself to look directly into his eyes.
"That's not fair. You know I can't help being busy," Hermione snapped more irritably than she had intended.
"Can't you? I get that you've got things to do, but damn it, it's like I don't even make the fucking list anymore!" Ron retorted. "Not to mention that the one night in the past week we've both been free, you go and make plans with other people!"
"I said I was sorry, okay? Next time I'll be sure to ask your permission first," Hermione said scathingly.
"Oh, stop it! That's hardly what I'm even bloody on about and you know it!" Ron said, his voice dangerously close to a shout, slamming his hand down on the countertop emphatically.
"Yes, I do know what you're on about, and it's not fair at all! You can't ask me to choose between you and my job, Ron!" Hermione replied in what was definitely a shout.
"And why not? Why's it so fucking hard for you just to choose me every once in awhile?" Ron bellowed. He took another deep breath before continuing, in a much quieter voice, "I can't do this right now." He brushed past Hermione without another word and began to leave the kitchen.
She panicked, and without thinking, shouted the first thing that came to her mind: "I thought you said you were done leaving me!" Before she'd finished speaking, Hermione flinched at the implication of her words. Ron positively stiffened.
"DON'T YOU DARE," he roared, facing her once again. "Don't you fucking dare throw that in my face, Hermione! You know how I feel about that, so don't you dare."
Hermione choked back a sob. "So don't make me. Please."
Ron breathed a heavy sigh. "I just—I need some air." He turned to go again, but he paused at the door and gulped. "I love you." His voice was low, but his words were unmistakable. However, he'd gone before she had time to return the sentiment.
Even in her shock, Hermione could hear the front door slam from the kitchen. It was the worst fight they'd had in three years, and now she was alone. Screaming in frustration, she grabbed her wand and blasted the nearest object, which just so happened to be the box of spaghetti Ron had bought. Hermione stared at it for a second, but soon couldn't take it anymore. She was sobbing violently before she was quite sure how she felt at all.
Breathing heavily and trying to wipe the tears from her face, she stumbled up the stairs and threw herself into Ron's bed. He had to come back eventually, she reasoned with herself. There was no way he'd stay out all night. He'd come back, and then they could talk it out. She began to cry harder as she recalled his parting words. He loved her. That's what this came down to. That's all their fights had ever come down to, really. It was like they couldn't let things go, not when it came to something as important as each other.
Hermione curled up into a ball as she allowed herself to let out her frustration. It had been building for weeks now, culminating in tonight's argument. She hated not seeing Ron too; he had to know that, didn't he? But then again, did he? She'd assumed he'd understand that there were things she needed to do for her job. She was sure she was right on that point—he needed to support her. But did he have a point? Was she really doing such a bad job balancing her work and her personal life? Maybe she'd assumed too much. Had it been foolish of her to expect her relationship to remain the same when she was making such a big change in her professional life?
Since she and Ron had got together, their relationship had come fairly easily to them. After six years of unresolved sexual tension, the simple fact that they were now allowed to kiss each other without worrying about the consequences had been more than enough for them to base their relationship on. Even the months they'd spent apart while she'd finished her schooling hadn't seemed so bad, because they knew they had the rest of their lives afterward. The problem was that the rest of their lives were here now, and things weren't as perfect as they'd expected them to be.
Perhaps, Hermione reasoned as she began to dry her eyes, having cried just about every tear possible, she'd simply not anticipated having to make a concentrated effort to maintain their relationship. She should have known better, of course. She should have known that love on its own wouldn't be enough to keep them afloat. He'd asked her to choose him—but surely he knew that she had chosen him, a long time ago? And surely he knew that she couldn't be asked to choose between him and her career?
The more these thoughts bounced around in Hermione's head, the more she realized that she'd made a crucial error. When given the choice between Ron and a job, there was really no question—she would choose Ron every time. She could handle losing a job, but losing Ron was simply out of the question. So why did she find it so hard to put her work aside every now and then? She knew the answer, of course; she wanted to be her very best. However, she realized with a jolt, she had been solely focused on being the best employee she could be and had completely neglected her role as Ron's girlfriend. It wasn't just that, either. She was his best friend. She wasn't going to put her work aside, but she was certainly willing to reevaluate her routine. She and Ron simply couldn't go on like this, but they had to go on somehow.
Pleased with her resolution, Hermione hugged a pillow to herself and waited for Ron to return so she could tell him. She was going to make more of an effort, provided he did the same and allowed her to focus on her work when it was really important—and in return, she was going to start being a better judge of what was truly important, because Ron was worth more than any job would ever be.
However, ten o'clock soon turned into eleven which soon became midnight, and Ron still hadn't returned. Hermione was beginning to get worried. They did have plans fairly early the next morning after all, and if Hermione knew Ron, she knew he was far too proud to find lodging for the night with any of his siblings. That would mean he'd have to admit to their fight, and she knew that he wouldn't want to do that. She was the same way. What happened between them was meant to stay between them, and unsolicited advice from family members and friends would likely make things worse.
It was just gone one when Hermione came to a realization. Bolting out of bed, she hurriedly rearranged the bed and went downstairs to find her shoes and coat. She was going to have to go find him this time. He'd come back on his own before, but the situation had been entirely different. It was her turn, now, to show him that their relationship meant more to her than any stupid fight they had. After racking her brains for a minute, she came to only one logical conclusion of where Ron could be. She tied her shoes in record time and a moment later, had exited the door and turned on the spot.
A moment later, Hermione found herself just outside the wards of the Burrow. Hurriedly, she made her way toward the small clearing she knew to be a few yards away from where Fred had been laid to rest. She and Ron had spent quite a bit of time there the summer after the war. In a house full of people, sometimes it was necessary to go outside in order to be alone, and Ron had certainly looked as though he'd wanted to be alone when he'd left Grimmauld Place a few hours ago.
Luckily, Hermione could see as she approached that her theory had been right. Despite the fact that it was cold enough for Hermione to see her breath when she exhaled, Ron was currently sat underneath a tree at the edge of the clearing without a coat on. Swallowing her immediate urge to scold him, she moved toward him tentatively. She could tell that he knew she was there, even though he didn't acknowledge her. He was holding a bottle of firewhiskey in his right hand, but it appeared to be only about half-empty.
Gulping audibly, Hermione sat down next to Ron, leaving a bit of space between their bodies. She was silent for a moment before saying, quietly but firmly, "I'm always going to choose you."
Ron breathed out heavily. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to choose. I'm always going to support your career, Hermione. It makes you happy, that's all I want."
"But if I was going to choose," Hermione insisted, "it'd be you. You make me happy."
Ron sighed heavily. "Want some?" he asked, offering her his bottle.
Hermione nodded once and took a swig, making a bit of a face at the taste. Ron chuckled softly at the sight. "I hate fighting with you," she said as she gave him the bottle back.
"I'm sorry," he repeated. "I sort of started it."
"You had a bit of a point though," Hermione reasoned. "I just—I didn't mean to take what we have for granted, you have to know that."
"I do," Ron said earnestly. "I'm sorry."
"Stop it," Hermione asserted. "I'm the one who's sorry. I haven't got my priorities in order at all. I've got to do my job, we both know that, but I've got to make time for you. I want to make time for you."
Ron nodded and took her hand in his own, squeezing it gently. "And I've got to support you when work's got to be the priority. You know I admire how hard you work, don't you? And it's amazing how much you love your job, Hermione. I'd never want to take that away. I just—I get a bit selfish sometimes."
"I know," Hermione said sincerely, shuffling closer so that she could wrap her arms around his torso. "It's not selfish of you to want to spend time together."
He wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I've missed you this week. It drives me mad, having you in the same building and not being able to see you."
"I've missed you too," Hermione said, laughing a little. "Our fight seems so stupid now."
"All our fights seem pretty stupid after the fact," Ron said, leaning his head atop hers. "At least we're better at making up now."
Hermione hummed contentedly, but then a thought occurred to her. "Ron?"
"Hm?"
"I'm really sorry about what I said."
"About what?"
"You know what I mean," she said. "About leaving."
"Oh. No, it's fine. I shouldn't have left."
"It's not fine, though," Hermione insisted. "You were right. We were suffocating in there; we needed to think things through so we could talk about it rationally."
"But I meant what I promised to you back then," Ron said fiercely. "I can't walk away when things get tough."
"You can't promise that," Hermione said reasonably. "When we get like that, it's better if one of us leaves. That keeps us from saying things we don't mean, which keeps us from hurting each other. Promise me something else instead."
"What's that?"
Hermione pulled her head back to look him in the eyes. "Just promise me you'll never walk away for good. And I'll promise the same. I love you, Ron, and this…us….it's too important to leave behind."
"Hermione," Ron said sincerely. "I promise you, I'm never going to give up on us."
The power and certainty in his voice was almost too much for Hermione. She choked back a sob as she brought her hand up to touch his face gently. "I love you," she repeated before she closed the gap between them and kissed him softly on the lips.
"I love you too," Ron said when they broke apart a moment later. "Want to go home? It's freezing out here. My warming charm's wearing off."
"Thank goodness you cast one," Hermione replied as she stood up before offering him a hand. "I was worried when I saw you without a coat."
"I'm too much of a baby to sit out here without any source of heat," Ron joked, taking her hand and leading them toward the edge of the wards again. "What's the time? I left my watch."
"It must be nearly two by now," Hermione replied as they came to a stop at the apparition point. A moment later, they found themselves once again on the doorstep to Grimmauld Place, this time in a much lighter mood.
"Nearly two," Ron said thoughtfully as he pulled off his shoes. "Not too late really, is it?" The look in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Not too late at all," Hermione agreed quietly, taking his hand again and leading him upstairs. She shut the bedroom door behind them out of habit, regardless of the fact that they were the house's only occupants, and kissed him once more. He responded with enthusiasm, and very little time passed at all before Hermione found herself lying on the bed with Ron hovering over her, both of them completely rid of clothes.
For just a moment, Hermione pulled away from their deep kisses and instead pulled Ron closer so that she could feel his weight. She savored the intimacy of the moment; she'd missed it. Though they'd been together like this since she'd been promoted, it had been ages since they'd been able to really take their time. Looking into her eyes, Ron seemed to read her mind. He kissed her once more, chastely this time.
"I love you so much," she whispered, feeling tears coming to her eyes once again.
"I love you," Ron said sincerely. Though his eyes were dry, Hermione could hear the slight shake in his voice. She nodded once, and then they were together in every sense of the word. It was slow and passionate and beautiful, and Hermione couldn't remember the last time it had been quite this good—but she vowed that she would never let them go so long without it.
Afterward, once they'd each caught their breath, Ron pulled her close and she settled into his embrace. She smiled happily; Ron had a particular affinity to post-coital cuddling that was really quite adorable but that he'd made her swear never to reveal to anyone.
"That was brilliant," he said quietly as he brought one of his hands up to her hair and began to play with her curls.
"It was," she agreed sleepily, tracing the skin of his back lightly with her fingertips.
"Shame we promised George we'd help out tomorrow," Ron commented. "I'd rather spend the whole day here."
"Let's spend the whole of tomorrow night here instead," Hermione proposed. "We've got a lot of catching up to do, I think."
"Now that's an idea I can get on board with," Ron said, smiling. He leaned forward and kissed her again. It was one of Hermione's favorite kinds of kisses—the kind when they were both too sleepy for it to amount to anything more, but the kind that was filled with a sort of love and closeness that only a relationship like theirs could have.
"Love you," Hermione whispered for what must have been close to the hundredth time since they'd made up, but she felt as though she couldn't say it enough. It was as if she wanted to make up for the things she'd said earlier, and for the things she'd forgotten to say for the past few weeks.
"Love you," Ron whispered back as she turned over to her other side, both of them preferring to spoon as they slept. Ron laid one arm just above the head and wrapped the other around her torso. She captured one of his hands in both of hers and closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep almost immediately. She could rest easy; they'd survived their first real fight as a couple, and they were stronger for it. After all, they'd faced everything from silly spats to power hungry dark wizards, and they'd come out of it all alive and together. The more they lived, the more Hermione was certain that there was nothing that could ever truly tear them apart.
A/N: So it was angsty and then it was cheesy. Don't say I didn't tell you all that I can't properly do angst without resolving it almost immediately. :) Parts of this were inspired by the song "For the First Time" by the Script. Additionally, I should mention that this was one of the first chapters of this fic that I began to plan back in July, and I think part of it was probably influenced by the fact that I was reading HalfASlug's "The Longest Start" at the time. So go read that if you haven't because it's awesome.
In other news—Fall Out Boy is off hiatus and the sixteen year old in me is listening to every song of theirs on repeat. Yep.
I feel as though I should warn you all that not only have I just started a new semester at school, but I'm entering a critical time in my athletic season which means the next few weeks are going to be a bit hectic for me. I'm going to attempt to continue to update about once a week, but please know that even if it takes a bit longer, under NO circumstances am I going to abandon this fic. :) Thank you all so much for your support!