A/N: Thanks so much for the kind words about this fic so far! Please don't be shy about letting me know what you think - good, bad, or otherwise, we love hearing from readers!
Thanks to accio-broom for continuing to slog through these long chapters and help me whip them into shape!
Moving on - everything got a bit more complex last time, and Ron needs some time to reflect. Turns out his caution is rooted in history as he recalls how their relationship had slowly faded away when they were younger…
September 16, 2012, 5:50am
As my eyes popped open for what had to be the hundredth time in the last few hours, I glanced out the window. The pitch black night had given way to a dull, grey early morning sky, barely visible through the gaps in the blinds. A strong, inhospitable wind was blowing through the trees lining the sidewalk, knocking down leaves and branches and scattering them into the street. It wasn't raining outside, the storm instead brewing inside my head. The events of the night swam through my brain, and no matter how hard I tried to convince myself that I did the right thing, I was plagued with doubt. I could've had her last night, all of her. But it almost certainly would've led to disaster in the long run, and it was only by some divine providence that I stopped myself instead of continuing.
But I wanted to, I kept reminding myself. The mantra disturbed me as it cycled through my consciousness.
Once she'd fallen back asleep, Hermione had draped herself over me. The entire right half of my body was on fire from her radiating heat. Her head rested just underneath my chin, her arm was wrapped around my waist, and the front of her body was pressed against my side. Our legs were tangled together as well, her right leg overlapping both of mine, and her left foot tickling my calf. My gaze drifted down to her peaceful form, resting in blissful ignorance as my tormented mind turned over and over.
Hermione had thrown herself at me. She'd all but handed me a written invitation to take our relationship to a new, very physical place, a place I would love to be with her. However, as always, something about the situation told me it wasn't the right time. Why could it never be the right time?
I made the right decision. She was as vulnerable as she's ever been, and she probably would've reacted like that with anybody. It would've been wrong to take advantage of her in that state.
But I wanted to.
I tried to tell myself that I never would've let it go that far, but who knows if that was true. It was common knowledge that, when people are faced with the opportunity of a lifetime with nothing but a little morality to evade along the way, the lines can blur in the flap of a hummingbird's wings. But I didn't want to be that guy. Getting together with Hermione after decades of pursuing her wouldn't be nearly as satisfying given the circumstances. No, I was glad I didn't keep going, didn't let my base instincts take over.
But I wanted to.
A sigh heaved out of my chest as I ran my pinky back and forth across her arm. The feeling of her delicate skin under my finger was intoxicating, only serving to further my torture. I was just trying to be a good friend, trying to support her and help her analyze her prospects in order to find something new, right? It was quite clear that nobody else had been willing to assist, not even her parents, so I didn't even hesitate to jump in. How did it turn into this? How were my efforts so misguided? Why couldn't things just be simple?
Besides, even if I was able to help her, it would definitely be safer to keep a bit of distance this time around. Our history was full of disastrous potholes along the road, and as much as I wanted to go full tilt to make her happy, a small voice in the back of my head was constantly reminding me to protect myself and my heart. Scenarios not that dissimilar to this one had ended in heartbreak before.
The unease I'd been feeling ever since she fell back asleep was starting to manifest itself physically. A constant, throbbing headache pounded against the back of my eye sockets, blurring my vision with every pulsation. My stomach was twisting itself into knots with anxiety, and a faint sensation of nausea swept over me in waves. There was a ringing in my ears that had been annoying me on and off for hours, and my eyelids kept twitching from fatigue.
Plus she's like a furnace and I'm so goddamn hot!
I couldn't take it any longer, and I certainly wasn't going to be able to get any more sleep. Laying in bed with her cuddled into my side was driving me to insanity. The longer I stayed, the more I felt my lungs collapsing, wringing themselves dry of oxygen. With my one free foot, I kicked the blanket off of my lower half and extricated myself from her grip, careful not to wake her in the process. She smacked her lips and rolled to the other side of the bed, pulling the comforter with her as she curled up on her other side.
Dragging myself across the worn hardwood floor, I twisted the doorknob and pulled as quietly as I could, hoping to minimize the creaking. I tiptoed across the living room and into the kitchen before digging through the cabinet for coffee grounds and a filter. Most of the time I made coffee, I was already showered and fully awake. At that moment, though, my mind was so distracted that I almost poured the grounds right into the water reservoir before catching myself.
As I flicked on the machine, the sound of a door opening caught my attention, and I swiveled my head back toward the living room just in time to see Harry peek his head around the corner. My roommate closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief when our eyes met.
"You scared the shit out of me," Harry said, hand clutching his chest.
"Sorry, I tried to be as quiet as I could."
"It's okay. Now, what the hell are you doing up?"
My brain spun as fast as it could, trying to figure out how much to reveal. Harry had always been a trustworthy confidant, but he also really liked joking around about me and Hermione. Telling him that we had nearly hooked up would give him ammunition for weeks. Depending on how things turned out, I didn't think I could take that.
"Just couldn't sleep, I guess," I said with a shrug.
He leaned back to look into the living room before turning back with a sly grin. "I notice the couch is untouched, though, so where were you while you were not sleeping?"
"Look," I replied, holding up my hands in defense and groaning, frustrated that I'd been caught and had to explain. "It's not what it looks like. Or what it'll sound like. We both ended up staying in my room."
Jaw dropping open, Harry's grin faded to a serious expression, his brow creased in thought. "So…but it's not what I think?"
"No, it's not. I have a hand-me-down queen-sized bed that I inherited from Percy when he and Audrey moved in together. Frizz felt bad that I was going to take the couch and, well, she suggested that we just share. It was fine."
"You're sure? That's a little intense given your history, Ron, don't you think?"
"Nothing happened. Of course nothing happened. C'mon man. You more than anyone ought to know by now that our timing is always bad. Always. It's why we keep drifting apart."
October 11, 2003, 5:35pm
Ron was riding high as he stepped off the train and onto the platform at the Argyle red line stop. He had just watched the football team win an exciting overtime game against Indiana from the comfort of the dorm room that he still shared with Harry. A little bit of homework hung over his head, but he would finish it over the next couple of hours and have all of Sunday free to enjoy the campus. Sleeping in, late breakfast, video games, early lunch…it was going to be a great day. The only thing causing his stomach to twist was his plan for studying that evening.
In a few minutes, he would be meeting up with Hermione. Normally, that would have thrilled him and guaranteed him a great time. But as the trio entered their sophomore year at Northwestern, things between them were at their most awkward and fractured. Throughout their first several months on campus, she had made it clear to him that she wanted to…how did she put it? "Branch out" and "immerse herself in college life"? Basically, it amounted to her telling him in no uncertain terms that they would only be hanging out as friends, and much less frequently than they had in high school. And forget about any romantic interest; her tone of voice when she talked with him seemed no different from the tone she used with other acquaintances in their dorm. Right after they had had that conversation, he had been crestfallen for a week, moping around his room and only emerging for class and meals. Over time, though, he had come to realize that he'd rather have her in his life as a friend than not at all, and he had started making more of an effort to see her, no matter how hard it was for him. It had only become more difficult when their living situations changed. At the beginning of sophomore year, she had moved out of the dorm and rented an apartment with a friend of hers on the opposite side of campus from Bobb Hall, where Ron and Harry were again living. When the two boys had visited her new place for the first time, Hermione was welcoming as always, but her new roommate rubbed Ron the wrong way. All she was interested in was parties and frat guys, and she loved telling Ron and Harry about how she and Hermione had already been to four of the best start-of–the-year parties. Hermione sensed her best friends' discomfort and quickly changed the subject, but it was still clear to the boys that things were changing. When they had discussed it after leaving, Harry didn't seem to mind that much, but Ron couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort. Nonetheless, he continued doing what he could to try to keep the relationship together.
So he found himself walking down Clark Street towards her favorite bookshop in the Andersonville neighborhood of the city, the one where she had already ingratiated herself to the owner so thoroughly that he not only let her study all evening, he even provided her with snacks along the way. Blotts Books was a great place to study, especially since it was usually deserted on weekend nights. Most of the store was packed with old and rare books, the kind you would never find at Barnes and Noble. Tucked in the back corner, though, was a small lounge area with comfortable chairs, great artwork, perfect lighting, and a coffee machine that was free for any customer to use.
As he walked inside, Mr. Blott waved to him and pointed to the back of the store. Winding through the shelves was always an adventure, and Ron couldn't help but be distracted by some of the off-beat titles as he gradually made his way through. Once he peeked his head out from between the tall stacks, he glimpsed Hermione already set up at a table and waiting for him. A cup of coffee with half and half sat in front of her, and a cup of black coffee was in front of the empty chair across from her.
When she saw him approach, a smile spread across her face and she marked her book and stood up, extending her arms for a hug. "You made it," she said.
"Course I did," he responded, his head swimming as he inhaled her scent for the first time in a week and a half. "Long time no see, I wouldn't miss it."
"How's Harry?"
"Oh, he's fine. Wishes he could make it, but he's back in Michigan visiting Ginny in Ann Arbor for the weekend."
"That's great, I'm glad they're still going strong. Long distance can't be easy."
Ron gulped as he thought about the long walk from his dorm to her new place. "Yeah, I'm sure. Anyways, what are you working on?"
"I'm reading these environmental impact reports from the Exxon Valdez oil spill. It's horrible…entire ecosystems destroyed in a matter of days."
"Weren't we like five when that happened?"
"That doesn't mean we can't still learn from it today, does it?" she replied, her head tilting to the side to stare at him around her notes.
"No, that's not what I mean," he said with a chuckle. "I just mean that certainly there's a more current example, no?"
"Thankfully not of that magnitude."
"Got it. Sorry, it's just weird to me to think about studying something from almost fifteen years ago. In my classes, anything from more than a year or two ago is considered obsolete."
"Are you still liking Computer Science?"
Ron cocked his eyebrow in thought and tapped his chin. "It's super cool to see how much of an impact you can have once you learn to code. But it's fucking intense. Some of these other students started building their own computers a decade ago when the technology was in its infancy. I definitely feel like I'm playing catch up, but it's awesome stuff."
"That's great," she said with a nod. "Have you decided what to do with it yet?"
"I don't know. We've been talking about security systems and encryption technology in one of my classes recently…that seemed like a really cool branch."
"Then you should go for it."
"We'll see. I've got time. What about you? I don't even think I know what you're taking this semester?"
Hermione held up a color-coded stack of binders and books. "I'm taking a botany class, earth science, and an independent study block about urban sustainability. And a class on French literature just for fun."
"That's your idea of fun?" Ron teased, one corner of his mouth pulling up in a crooked grin.
"It is fun!" she huffed. "I started trying to read some of those authors when I lived in France, but now I finally have the language skills to keep up. And you know I love reading."
"Always such a nerd, Frizz."
After sending a smirk back his way, she again buried her face back in her notes. His heart skipped a beat at her look, reminding him anew of the effect that she had on him. The fact that they weren't seeing as much of each other recently didn't seem to matter. As soon as he was in the same room with her, he was magnetically drawn to her regardless.
Of course, that did nothing to quell his anxiety. The more their lives diverged, the less they had to talk about, and the more nervous he was any time the conversation lulled. Fortunately, they had come to the bookstore to study, not talk. He pulled his laptop out of its carrying case, groaning as soon as he opened it when he was faced with lines and lines of code that he was having trouble working the kinks out of. Okay, let's see what we can do.
For the next couple of hours, the back corner of Blott's Books was quiet. The smell of stale coffee permeated the air and the sound of laptop keys clicking punctuated the silence. At one point, Mr. Blott stopped by with a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies which they both eagerly accepted. Before Ron knew it, he had figured out his entire algorithm, and his code was running beautifully. He also hadn't said a word to Hermione for almost three hours, somewhat defeating the purpose of studying together. At least I won't have to worry about this work tomorrow.
As he snapped his computer screen shut, she sighed and straightened her notes. "Ready to call it a night?" she asked.
"Yeah, I think I'm good. This place is fantastic, I'm really glad you found it."
"Mr. Blott is so nice. It's a bit out of the way, but it's one of my favorite places in the city."
"He is a great guy," Ron said as they picked up their bags and walked toward the exit. "Anyway, are you heading back to the red line?"
"I don't know," she replied, both of them waving at Mr. Blott as they stepped out into the cool night air. "I feel like we've barely had time to catch up recently and then we were working all night. Would you like to stop and have a drink somewhere before heading back to campus?"
A rush of adrenaline coursed through his body and he suddenly felt a lightness in his chest. It took a significant amount of effort to hold back the smile that wanted to burst onto his face. "Yeah, that sounds great. It has been a while, hasn't it?"
"Cool. I know a great little pub down the street. Great food, and if you're interested, they usually don't card. I was there last month with some of my roommate's friends and the bartender made us a really awesome drink called a Purple Rain."
"Oh yeah?" he said, his face twisting into a frown as he snickered. "Well, the food sounds great, and I'm sure I can find something non-alcoholic."
She scoffed as she grabbed his arm and steered him down the sidewalk. "Never thought I'd see the day when you turn down a drink. Weren't you the one who was begging Harry to open up Sirius' liquor cabinet at one of those football parties?"
"Oh. Yeah, I suppose that was me. That was a long time ago, though, and I was…well, a different person. I'm sure you noticed at the time, but I was quite susceptible to peer pressure back then. I just really wanted everyone to think I was cool."
"I see. And now?"
"Now I know I'm not cool."
Everything started spinning inside Ron's head and an electric surge of excitement coursed through his body as she threw her head back and laughed. At least I can still make her smile.
"I don't know," he continued. "I just don't really care if people think it's lame that I don't drink. I've tried it a few times, and I felt like absolute shit afterward. Just not my thing, I guess."
"I get it," she said, tugging him closer to her. "I think that's really great. And we don't have to drink, let's just get a snack or something."
"Yeah, sounds good," he replied, suddenly feeling even more awkward around her than he had before. Guess she's changed a bit. I hope she still thinks I'm fun to hang out with.
After they'd walked a block and a half, Hermione pulled him to a stop in front of a large wooden door. The pressed metal sign above the entrance read "The Cracked Kettle", and the rapid fingerpicking of Ani DiFranco could be heard as soon as they entered the dimly lit pub. Hermione led him to the back of the room and up a spiral staircase before claiming a plush loveseat on the upper level. A waitress met them just after they settled into the squashy couch.
"Can I get you two anything?" she asked, handing them a slim drink menu.
"Umm, sure," Hermione replied. "Could I get a warm spiced apple cider?"
"Sure thing, and you?"
"Same, that sounds great," Ron said.
"Anything to eat?"
Ron turned to Hermione, and both of them fumbled over their words for a moment. "How about some burgers? It'll be like old times," he offered.
"Oh, umm, no thanks, I'm a vegetarian."
"You are?" he asked, his brow knitting together. The waitress glanced away and rocked on her heels, clearly feeling awkward that she was present for Ron's revelation. "Since when?"
"I guess it's been four months or so? Maybe some fries instead?"
"Oh, sure," he answered, snapping out of his confused trance. "Large order of fries?"
"Coming right up," she said before hustling back down the staircase.
After the waitress left, Ron was at a loss for words. How could he be that out of sync with someone he still considered to be one of his best friends? And why hadn't she told him? True, they hadn't spent much time together since the end of the last school year, and now that he thought about it, they hadn't gone out to eat together in over six months. He knew perfectly well that they weren't as close as they had been, but the depths to which their relationship had descended continued to shock him.
Not that it was any consolation, but Hermione also seemed to be trying to dodge the subject. She had pulled out her phone and was checking through her text messages, avoiding his gaze any time he peered up at her from the menu, which he was still perusing for no particular reason. The fingers of his other hand rolled over the velvet fabric of the couch as his eyes glazed over. Almost a minute had passed before he finally decided he couldn't keep quiet any longer.
"So, four months, huh?" he said. "Can't believe I didn't know that."
"Oh, yeah. Well, I'd been thinking about it for a while. I learned in one of my classes about how much meat consumption is linked to global warming. Besides, so many of those animals are kept in such inhumane conditions. It's appalling, really."
"I see. I hope you don't mind that I still eat meat, though. Like, I don't want to offend you or gross you out by ordering a burger."
"It's alright, I know I'm only in charge of myself. I promise I won't pass judgment."
Note to self, never order a burger again in front of Hermione. She might be passing judgment.
"Okay. I think that's cool of you."
"Thanks," she said, a small smile creeping onto her face. "I try to do my part."
The conversation hit another lull, Ron letting his vision drift to the nearby fireplace. Mesmerized by the flames, he wondered what else had changed that he didn't know about.
"Harry and Ginny still doing well?" Hermione asked, holding up her head with her hand as she leaned against the back of the sofa.
"Yeah, they seem to be. Long distance sucks and I know they wish they were closer, but…I don't know, it all seems pretty serious."
"Wow, that's great. I'm really happy for them."
"Yeah, me too."
Her eyes crawled upward until they finally met his, and he could see her swallow before she continued. "What about you?"
"What about me, what?" he clarified.
"Are you seeing anyone?"
His heart sped up in his chest, and he scoffed before he spoke. "Me? No, of course not. Just working a lot. Umm, yeah, always busy up north."
"Oh, that's a shame."
A shame? Why would it be a shame? Why is she sad that I'm still available?
"It's fine," he said with a shrug. "You know, it's cool. I'm not sure I'd have much time for something like that anyway."
After a brief pause, he got up his courage to ask the question that was really on his mind, steeling himself for all possible answers. "Umm, how about you?"
"Oh, me? No. Nothing serious, at least."
Nothing serious? What the fuck does that mean? I'd almost rather she had a boyfriend than that vague shit.
All he could do was nod. For her part, Hermione seemed to pick up on his discomfort and shift herself away from him on the sofa, albeit just a little bit. But it was enough. The casual act of creating separation coupled with the revelation that she was probably having random hookups with guys around campus drove a stake into his heart. Any hope of reconciliation, at least the kind of reconciliation he had been not-so-secretly hoping for, seemed dashed.
"Alright, one large fries and two warm ciders," the waitress said, placing the plate and mugs on the coffee table in front of them. "Let me know if you need anything else."
"Thank you," Hermione said, reaching for her drink.
It took Ron a moment to get out of his own head, but he picked up his cider as well and inhaled the aroma before taking a sip. Normally, he loved apple cider. It reminded him of all the things he loved about fall like apple picking, football, and Halloween. But even though he objectively knew that it was delicious, it tasted bitter to him. He could barely swallow without choking, unable to get her words out of his mind.
"Hey, I wanted to ask you," she continued, intent on changing the subject. "Do you want to come to a party with us next weekend? Some of my roommate's friends and I are all going to Pike on Friday. Should be a great time…"
"Pike? As in the frat house?"
"Yeah, of course. They throw the best parties. I was skeptical at first, but we went a few weeks ago and it was really fun. So many cool people there."
"No, thanks though. Afraid I'm not really into Greek life," Ron replied. Somehow, the knot in his stomach was tying itself even tighter than before. He knew it shouldn't bother him as much as it did, but he couldn't help but still feel a little protective of her. Maybe he should go?
She lowered her head and pressed her lips together as she nodded. "Oh, okay. I mean, I'm not really into Greek life either, it's just supposed to be a cool party. But that's fine, I get it."
"Sorry, it's just not my thing. Maybe we could hang out Saturday night, though? If you're not busy, that is."
"Umm, yeah, maybe. I'll have to see what's going on."
The conversation continued for another hour or so, riddled with clumsy pauses and illogical segues. By the time Hermione stood up to announce that she had to be getting back to her apartment, Ron was almost happy that he would soon be alone again. It was weird to think, and a big part of him still wanted to hang out all night, but their talk had been so awkward that it would be a relief not to have to find new topics any longer.
As they strolled back to the red line platform, she told Ron about her family, how her Dad had been transferred to Seattle for a year and that she'd be visiting them over the holiday break instead of returning to Michigan. He updated her on his family, beaming as he talked about Bill and Fleur's young children. Truthfully, he had hoped to introduce Hermione to his niece and nephew since his entire family was all going to be back home for the holidays. Oh well, maybe next year. Or never.
After transferring to the purple line, Hermione's stop came up first. When they pulled into the station, she gave Ron a quick side hug before bounding off the train as she pulled out her phone to check the messages she'd received in the last hour. He rode for the last two stops in a daze, unable to shake the feeling that something big had changed between them. They just weren't on the same page any longer. None of their academic pursuits, extracurricular activities, or social circles intersected the way they once had. Maybe there was no use pretending. Maybe it had all just kind of fizzled.
Once he got off the train, he floated back to his dorm, barely aware of his surroundings. Since Harry was in Michigan for the weekend, the room was dark and lonely. He barely took the time to change his clothes before collapsing onto his bed, pulling the covers up over his shoulders, and trying to get the inevitably fitful night of sleep over with.
October 17, 2003, 11:15pm
"So when do you think this party is ending?" Ron asked, grimacing and biting his lip as he mashed the buttons on his controller.
"For the seventy-second time, Ron, I have no idea. Late," Harry replied.
The two were unblinking as they stared at Harry's new flat-screen television, a gift from Sirius after a successful first year. A GameCube was hooked up to it, allowing the boys to try to beat the hell out of each other in Super Smash Brothers. It had become their favorite pastime and the perfect way to destress after a long week. Sometimes their dormmates would join them, but it was a Friday night, so everyone else was out.
Throughout the week, Ron had gone back and forth about Hermione's invitation to join her at the party. There had been at least three times that he'd pulled up her phone number, but he couldn't bring himself to press the button and send the call. Hermione wanted to do her own thing and he wasn't interested. It should have been as simple as that. But it bothered him that their relationship seemed to be disintegrating in front of his eyes and that, if he wasn't careful, she wouldn't even be his friend anymore much less anything more.
"I know late," Ron continued, "but like how late?"
"How many frat parties have I been to, Ron?"
"Yeah, fine, I know. I'm sorry, I just can't help it."
With one final slash of his sword, Link blasted Samus off the screen and Harry raised his fists in victory. "I finally beat you!" he said. "That hasn't happened in forever!"
"Right, good for you," Ron replied, setting down his controller and checking his cell phone yet again.
"I mean, it only half counts because you're horribly distracted, but I'll take what I can get."
"I'm…oh. Oh, sure."
"Why are you doing this to yourself?" Harry asked, folding his arms over his chest after he turned off the screen. "The constant worrying, checking your phone over and over again, asking me a million questions that I couldn't possibly have the answer to…you're driving yourself crazy."
Ron sighed and dropped his head into his hands. "Do you think I don't know that? I just, I can't help it."
"She's gone to parties before, you know. Plenty of them. Often without you. She's with a bunch of her friends, she'll be fine. And you know what? I hate to say this because it's going to sound mean, but either way, it's just not your problem."
"Course it is, she's my friend!"
"Ron. You have plenty of friends. How many of them are you worried about tonight?"
"That's not fair. It's different with her and you know it."
"It was different, Ron. At one point, maybe. But things aren't the same anymore, right? And that's not good or bad, it just…is."
"I know. I know I know I KNOW!" Ron said, pacing across the room and punching his pillow. "But I can't help it, man! Not after what she said!"
"What she…wait, what did she say?" Harry asked, suddenly concerned.
"She asked me if I was seeing anyone. I said no. I asked her the same question and she said 'nothing serious'. I just can't get it out of my head. Everyone knows what that means."
"I see. Well, that's her choice, right? And c'mon, this is Hermione we're talking about. She's like the most responsible person we know."
"Trust me, I believe that she'd make good choices. It's those animals who live at the frat house that worry me."
"They're just people."
"People who are probably drooling all over her right now!"
The conversation paused as Harry waited for Ron's breathing to return to normal. Once he had calmed himself down, his friend continued after a forceful exhale. "Do you know what I really think, Ron?"
"I don't think I'm going to like this, but no, I don't."
"I think it's time to let it go."
"I-I can't. Some portion of me wants to, believe me, but I just can't."
"Look, this might sound harsh, but I'd rather you hear it from me now than her later because I think it would be much harder that way, okay?"
"Okay…"
"She's not your girlfriend," Harry said, stretching out each syllable for effect. "She would've been back in high school if you two had ever gotten out of your own way, but you didn't, so she's not."
"Right, but-"
"And since she's not your girlfriend," Harry continued, plowing through Ron's interjection, "what she does is even less of your business than it would've been if she was your girlfriend. I know that you're just trying to be a good friend and whatnot, but I worry that to her, it might be a little…creepy."
"What do you mean, creepy? We're friends! I'm allowed to worry about my friends!"
"Not like this, you're not! You're becoming obsessed! I worry about Hermione sometimes, too. She's a small, single woman living with another small, single woman on the outskirts of a big city. Of course I worry sometimes. But I don't let it consume me like this."
Ron glanced out the window and into the dark night. In the distance, the city lights shone bright with the bustle of weekend revelry. Airplanes blinked their way through the sky, blending in with the stars as they carried people to their loved ones. Every now and then, a drunk undergrad shouted a semi-intelligible swear word into the cool air to a round of raucous laughter. People were living their lives. They were having fun, enjoying the day, and getting on with it. Everyone except him. Why can't I just let this go?
"I'll try."
"That's all anyone can ask. I know it's hard, man. I can only imagine how I'd feel if it were Ginny and me. You've had this notion in your head of the two of you for so long, and it's hard to break free. I understand. I saw it at one point, too. But things change."
"No shit," Ron said with a snicker.
"If you really want to stay friends with her, just try to support her. Be there for her when she needs it. Hang out sometimes when you can agree on something cool to do. Try to stop thinking of her as the girlfriend you should have had and just enjoy the relationship that you do have, you know? Otherwise…who knows, man."
As Ron stood up, he grabbed his bathroom caddy and sauntered towards the door. "I know. Thanks…really. You're right. I know you're right. Still, this is going to suck."
"Sure will."
Nodding, Ron twisted the knob and took a step out into the hallway before spinning back around. "Hey, Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"You really think I was being creepy?"
"I mean, not quite, but you were getting there."
Ron shook his head and pulled the door shut, disappointment in himself crashing over him.
God…
September 16, 2012, 6:05am
"Okay, well, setting that minor bombshell aside, you still haven't answered my question," Harry said. "Why are you still up?"
"Told you, I just couldn't sleep," I said, my heart rate increasing as if I were on a witness stand.
"Ron. I've lived with you for a decade. You can always sleep. The only time you've ever been awake at six in the morning before is when you had to catch a flight, and I'm using the word awake extremely liberally."
"Okay, fine," I said, releasing a frustrated sigh as I realized he'd probably find out sooner or later anyway. "I'm a little freaked out."
"What freaked you out? Did you and Frizz talk?"
"Yeah, we did."
Harry's eyes grew wider and he looked impatient. "...And?"
"And there was a moment."
It became quiet again, only the steady drip of coffee into the pot breaking through the silence. The aroma of the roasted beans was filling the air and starting to wake me up a bit more, but my brain was still in a fog. My eyes were glued to the floor as if I'd never found ceramic tiling so interesting in all my life. Harry's fingers, meanwhile, were drumming against the kitchen counter; he was clearly eager for me to continue, but I still had my doubts. My palms were becoming sweaty at the thought of continuing the conversation.
"Did something happen?" he ventured.
"You know what," I said, suddenly worried that I was betraying Hermione's trust somehow by even discussing it with Harry, "I really shouldn't say."
"Oh. OH. Wait. Did…something happen?"
"We really shouldn't be talking about this, it's not fair to Frizz, and I think-"
"Wait," he interrupted. "Are you saying…or rather not saying what I think?"
As much as it was none of his business, I knew I needed to clear things up. She was his friend, too, after all. "No, I'm not saying…that."
"Okay. So then what? What was this moment?" he asked, air-quoting the last word.
My gaze shifted all around the kitchen, landing everywhere but on Harry's face. "It's complicated. I was just trying to talk with her about her plans, you know, like we discussed. She couldn't sleep and was having…I guess it was a bit of a panic attack trying to figure out what to do with her life. Anyway, I offered to help, just to calm her down, you know? And then, I don't know, after we'd talked for a while, she looked at me…differently."
"Differently?" Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Yeah, differently. I can't explain it, but it was, like, not the way she looks at me as a friend. It was more than that."
I purposefully omitted the rest of the story, quite sure that no good could come from Harry learning those details. His eyes were practically popping out of his skull as it was and he whistled and shook his head. "Wow. And then what?"
"And then we both fell asleep. So it worked, I guess. She was able to get some rest, which she really seemed to need."
"That's crazy. Well, if it is, you know, something, I'm really happy for you guys."
"Honestly, I have no idea what's going to happen when she wakes up," I said, the weight on my chest getting a little lighter based on his reaction. "I might have just imagined it all."
"You are pretty dense."
"Shut up, Harry," I said, shoving his shoulder, a sheepish grin on my face.
"You know, I was just kidding about all that stuff I said before…I didn't actually think…"
"Trust me, man, neither did I," I replied with a chuckle. "And we'll see, still may be nothing, right?"
"Maybe. Anyway, you should get back. Don't want her to wake up and find you gone. I'm not sure what vibe you're going to be aiming for, but I'm pretty sure it involves you at least being in the room."
"Suppose you're right. Want a cup before I have some?"
"No, thanks. I'm going to try to get a bit more sleep too," Harry answered.
"Got it. Sorry I woke you."
"No worries, see you later."
I reached down a regular mug and my stainless steel travel mug from the cupboard and distributed the hot coffee between them. After adding a splash of half and half to Hermione's, I took a sip of mine after blowing on the surface. For a few moments, I leaned against the counter and tried to strategize my next move. Should I bring it up right away? Or wait for her to say something? The elephant was in the room whether we liked it or not, so why not just address it, right? But then who wants to have a heavy conversation like that right after they wake up?
By the time I had downed the rest of my drink, I was no closer to deciding what to do. I figured that following her lead might be the best choice. But maybe with a hint of caution as well. She's still not in the best headspace to be making these types of decisions, and it wouldn't be fair to either of us to jump into something just because we're craving comfort.
The stabbing sensation behind my eyes had dulled with caffeine, but the flip side was that I was suddenly wide awake. Who knew how much longer Hermione would sleep, but I wanted to be there when she woke up. I had a feeling I might be in for a long time staring at the ceiling.
Once again turning the knob gently, I snuck back into the room and set the travel mug of coffee down on her side table, confident that it would stay warm until she woke up. I walked around the bed as quietly as possible, stopping at the bathroom to pee before returning to bed. As soon as she felt the depression in the mattress, she rolled back towards me and wrapped herself around my body again, her hand coming to rest just south of my hip bone, dangerously close to my groin. The lump in my throat doubled in size as I swallowed, my mouth was dry despite all the coffee I had just drank. And now we wait.
As I lay in bed, I kept replaying the last 6 hours over and over. It led me to the conclusion that, no matter what she says or does, my best option would be to support her but keep my distance. And for God's sake, be careful. Otherwise, it'll all fall apart like last time.