A/N: Thanks so much for all of the favorites, follows, and reviews so far - I hope you'll continue to let me know what you think as we keep moving forward in the story!

Accio-broom, a huge thanks for all of your beta help along the way!

We're moving on and starting the second half of the fic. The flashbacks have caught up with the present, and the story will now focus on what happens with Ron and Hermione's relationship after their huge argument. From a timing perspective, keep in mind that the first half of the fic took place in mid-September 2012, so we're now moving forward about a month or so. I'll continue to timestamp all of the chapters like I have been to serve as a guidepost.

Enjoy!

October 20, 2012, 6:30pm

Crunchy fallen red and orange leaves were sprinkled over the expansive front lawn of the Field Museum, and the birds fluttering out of the branches knocked down even more as I strolled back into the venue. Only several hundred feet away, Lake Michigan shimmered in the evening light, small waves lapping against the concrete seawall. A few sailboats dotted the horizon, which was an otherwise impossibly sharp demarcation in the distance. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and while the late October air was cool and crisp, it was a lovely night for a wedding.

The ceremony had finished an hour ago, and I had just been released from picture-taking obligations. It had been a beautiful service on the front lawn, and my sister looked fantastic. Harry was wearing a standard black tuxedo but also had a thin bandana with the Chicago Red Stars logo wrapped around his head as a show of support for his new wife's team. He looked ridiculous of course, but everyone was too happy to care. Besides, he actually pulled it off well.

Pulling my jacket tighter around me as I approached the doors, I glanced up at the balcony overlooking the lake. Harry and Ginny were standing next to each other, beaming as the photographer continued to capture them from every possible angle. I chuckled to myself as I walked back inside and climbed the stairs to the event hall. Everything was going perfectly and, thanks to the museum's new partnership with Ginny's soccer team, it all came at a substantial discount that allowed the new couple to afford such a lavish affair. Gorgeous gold, red, and blue tapestries hung from the walls, many emblazoned with the four-starred flag of Chicago. A massive cake with five tiers stood in the corner of the dance floor, surrounded by round tables with gold tablecloths and linens. Mrs. Weasley had insisted upon a string quintet, who played in the opposite corner as guests shuttled back and forth across the room, sampling appetizers and trying not to spill their cocktails.

As I crossed the dance floor, my eyes locked on the far wall. Hermione was standing by herself, scrolling through her phone. I felt bad for her; she didn't really know anyone at the wedding besides the bride and groom, me and my family, and a few assorted friends from high school that she hadn't been particularly close with. That said, the prospect of going over to her terrified me at first. It had been just over a month since our huge fight, and I hadn't seen her since. After the incident, she had stopped showing up at work. I heard through the grapevine that she had called Oliver the morning she stormed out of my apartment and quit on the spot. Part of me wanted to be happy for her because I was the one who encouraged her to leave, but I was hoping it wouldn't be under such awful circumstances. Harry and Ginny had been in touch with her in the previous few weeks as they finalized the wedding details, of course, and I saw her across the church during the service, but that had been it. Seeing her standing in front of me, looking gorgeous as ever, made my face burn. My palms were sweaty as I fumbled with my top button, desperately wrestling with it in an attempt to get some air.

Summoning my courage, I forced my legs to propel me in her direction, figuring that it was as good a time as any to try to reconnect. For all I knew, she would throw a drink in my face and charge off in the opposite direction, but I had to try something. I missed her terribly and wanted to make sure she knew how sorry I was.

It's now or never, might as well give it a shot. At least she probably wouldn't start screaming at me in the middle of a wedding.

"Hey," I called as I inched closer to her.

Hermione's head snapped up from her phone, her eyes widening for a moment before she broke into a small smile and her cheeks turned red. "Oh, hi."

"Umm…nice wedding, huh?"

"It's magnificent."

I shoved my hands into my pockets and turned to see Harry and Ginny re-enter the hall, both of their faces lit up and beaming at each other. It was weird to think, but I wanted what my sister had. "They look happy," I said, my tone more melancholy than I intended.

"They do. It's so weird to think of her as Ginny Potter after all these years."

"You're telling me."

As I rocked back and forth on my heels, Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, her gaze flicking around the room. Cracking my knuckles and taking deep breaths were the only things I could do to try to calm myself down. The lights dimmed as my sister and Harry came together for their first dance, "Lucky" by Jason Mraz and Colbie Caillat, and everyone turned to watch the happy couple glide across the parquet floor. I, on the other hand, looked back at Hermione just in time to see her gulp and glance at me, her cheeks glowing more than before.

"So, how, umm, how have you been?" I continued, cursing myself for not being able to come up with a more intelligent-sounding question.

"Doing well, yeah."

"That's great. What have you been up to recently?"

"Just looking for that right situation, that next thing, you know?"

"Any luck so far?"

She still couldn't even make eye contact with me. God, everything was so awkward.

"Nothing yet," she replied, "but I'm keeping my eyes open. And how's Cisco?"

"Cool, that's great. And everyone's good at the office. It's, you know, weird without…well, since you left."

"Yeah, you know, I just…couldn't do it anymore. It was nothing but a dead end, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that."

We both watched as Ginny twirled under Harry's outstretched arm before allowing him to collect her in his arms. It looked so effortless; they practically moved as one, each knowing what the other was going to do before it happened. Memories of sitting in the high school cafeteria with Hermione flooded my mind. I always used to be able to finish her sentences back then. Any time I did, she would drop her head, giggle, and tuck her hair behind her ear. It was adorable. Recollections like that almost made me physically ill a decade later as I thought about how badly I'd screwed things up. Maybe that's why I finally got a little bold.

"Hey, can we…you know, actually talk somewhere?" I asked.

As she contemplated my offer, she chewed on her lower lip and spun her phone around in her hand. "Sure, just outside?"

"Yeah, let's go."

Each of us took one last glance at the happy couple before ducking around the plush red curtains and out the two-story mahogany doors, the lyrics of the song bouncing around in my mind.

Lucky I'm in love with my best friend, lucky to have been where I have been, lucky to be coming home again…

Hermione walked to the edge of the expansive balcony and gazed out over the lake, leaning up against the smooth stone banister. A gentle breeze rushed over the terrace, causing the few curls that had sprung loose from her french twist to dance against her cheek. I followed behind her, unable to keep my eyes off her. Goosebumps had popped up along her arms. The way the fading light was hitting her face was mesmerizing, and I caught myself staring. Snap out of it! This is not the time to ogle!

I stood next to her and rested my arms against the balustrade, admiring the view. "Water looks beautiful tonight."

A few seconds passed, and when she didn't respond, I turned to face her more directly. Her fingers were fidgeting with the fabric of her periwinkle A-line satin dress, its scoop neck heaving as she breathed deeply.

"Hermione?" I asked.

"What are we doing here?" she blurted out in a trembling voice.

"Oh. Well, it's been a while, and I guess I was just hoping we could talk."

"About what?"

"I don't know…life?"

Much to my disappointment, her brow creased and she backed away. "I don't know, Ron," she said, spinning and starting to walk back inside.

Life? What the fuck is wrong with me? How am I already ruining my chances? Oh well, desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Hermione, I'm really sorry. I-I was such an asshole to you. I'd like a chance to…maybe not explain, but at least properly apologize."

When she turned back again, her face was set in a frown as her eyes pierced mine and she tentatively stepped toward me.

"I don't-I wish I knew where to start," I said, trying not to stammer.

"Is this really the time or place?"

"Honestly, probably not, but I don't see you much anymore."

She rolled her eyes at me as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I guess. Fine."

I took a deep breath and tried to organize my thoughts before launching into my apology. Nothing I could say would make things completely better or be able to take back the things I'd said in frustration, but I needed to try. She was too important to me not to.

"So, that morning…"

When she didn't show any sign of reacting, I continued. "It all kind of came out wrong."

The stern look on her face still didn't change, but a subtle nod of her head told me that I was at least on the right track.

"Everything I said…all of the things that just spilled out of my mouth…it was all because of how much I care about you. If nothing else, please remember that."

"Umm, you'll excuse me if that's a little bit difficult for me. After all, I was there, I heard what I heard."

"I know, but-"

"But what?"

"But the feeling behind the words were…what I mean is, I've always thought…no, we've never really had that kind of…ugh, why is this so hard to explain?" I growled, smacking myself on the forehead with my open palm.

Her features softened as she sighed and dropped her arms to her side. "Look, I know that this," she said, gesturing between the two of us, "has always been kind of complicated. Bad timing, bad communication, you name it. But that's what was so frustrating about what happened last month. We were communicating better than we had in years and the timing shouldn't have been an issue. So my only remaining assumption was that it was me that was the problem for you."

"Of course you weren't the problem. And the timing wasn't good, was it? The timing was so bizarre! Nobody wants to do that right after someone has been sobbing on their shoulder."

"I was not sobbing on your shoulder! I was upset because I had finally come to a realization about my life and my career, but you're making it seem like I was hysterical or something. And besides, people cry, Ron. I cry sometimes. You just have to deal with it."

"That's just the thing, I was happy to deal with it, honestly. I've always wanted to be there for you in times like that, Frizz, and-"

"Oh, definitely not Frizz," she spat.

"Sorry, Hermione, but as much as I hope you know that you can always come talk to me about stuff like that, you have to admit, it was a weird time to think about a, uhh, transition like that, no?"

"I don't know, Ron, I guess," she started, approaching the edge of the balcony and running her fingers over the balusters, "I guess I was just feeling close to you at the moment. And when you're in bed with someone you're feeling close to, things happen."

"But that's not just a thing that happens, that would've been a huge step for us! Especially for us!"

"Fine, but look, either way, it doesn't really matter now, does it?"

"It does, though," I said, my eyes pleading with her as her gaze remained locked on mine. "I know that I screwed up that day, Hermione, but it's so important to me that you know why. I'm not asking for your forgiveness and I'm certainly not asking for us to go back to where we left off, I'm just asking you to hear me out, to understand my reasoning."

"First of all, that's good, because just to be clear, we're not going back to where we left off."

"I know."

"Good. And second, I'm trying. I really am, but forgetting that night and moving on to the next morning…your words were so cruel. I don't think you have any idea the kind of damage you're capable of."

The gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach returned in full force as her eyes welled up. What made me think I'd ever be able to do this standing right in front of her? Just breathe and try to be honest. Dr. Firenze always says that the harder the situation, the more honesty is the right answer.

Brushing back my hair, I inhaled deeply in an attempt to center myself. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. You're right, I probably don't know. But I promise you that I didn't mean those words the way they came out. I've felt horrible about the things I said for weeks because I know they're not true and I know how inappropriate it was for me to put any of that on you. At the end of the day, though, I said what I said because I really do care about what happens to you, and I care about your feelings. The last thing I ever would've wanted for us would be to get together because of some big emotional experience or a temporary need for comfort only for one or the other of us to realize a few days or weeks later that it had all been a huge mistake or that we weren't really ready to take that step. I did want something like that with you…more than you realized, probably. But it never would've felt right under those circumstances."

"This is the real world, Ron. Things don't always go according to plan," she said, wiping her eye with the back of her hand.

"I know. Believe me, I know. But something that was that important to me? As much as I wanted to just throw caution to the wind, I couldn't just say, 'oh well, let's give it a whirl,' you know? I just couldn't. Does that make any sense to you?"

I watched as her eyes darted around, taking in the cityscape as the faint orange glow of the receding sun dimmed between massive skyscrapers. If she was having any specific thoughts about what I'd said, her face wasn't betraying them. Her expression remained unchanged, but I could see the gears turning in her head. My nerves were already frayed and my hands were shaking in my pockets, but I didn't move, allowing her the time she needed to process what I'd said.

"I get it," she finally replied. "I'm not sure I think about things the same way as you, but I get it."

"That's fine. Thanks for hearing me out," I said, my neck muscles unclenching.

"But then why the comparison to what's his name?"

"Who, Cormac?"

"Yeah. I mean, I understand why you wanted to wait, but that…that was the most painful part."

"I'll admit, I don't have a defense for that," I said, swallowing hard. "My mouth started working faster than my brain and I fucked up big time. But I guess what I was trying to say was that I didn't just want to be…another guy to you. I have never been interested in flings, and I was worried that that's how you would've thought about it."

"You have to have known that that wouldn't have been the case."

"In the most logical part of my brain, sure. But that's not the part that was in control at that moment, you know?"

"I suppose."

Things were getting very deep very quickly, but I knew I needed to keep explaining. I turned to face the water, sure that I would have a harder time continuing if I was still looking at her.

"I've learned a lot about myself through therapy, and it's helping me to recognize all of these deep-seated insecurities that are constantly pulling me out of reality. That said, recognizing them and being able to manage them are two different things. We have such a fraught history that it's almost like I can't help but assume the worst when it comes to us, you know? And when that part of my mind saw the parallel between me and him, it just kind of ran wild. But still, it was unfair of me to make that comparison. It devalues both of us, but you most of all, and I hope you know that I didn't mean it that way. I just meant that…that I don't ever want you to feel like I took advantage of you. The only way I would ever be happy with, you know, us happening would be if we were both jumping in with both feet, clear-headed and with eyes wide open.

"Anyway, like I said, it's no excuse, but that's why my mind started spiraling," I finished, sure that my face was a blazing shade of scarlet as heat practically radiated from me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught her small nod. Having told her everything released some of the tightness across my chest. Honestly, I was just happy that she was willing to talk to me again; it was all a step in the right direction. Even the breeze was fresher and more welcoming against my cheek and the chill in the air didn't bother me as much.

"I know," she said, angling her body back toward me as I mirrored her action. "Really, I do. But I want you to know that no matter the circumstances, I was jumping in with both feet, clear-headed and with eyes wide open. The fact that that might have included a more physical aspect to the relationship off the bat wouldn't have changed that, although I am sorry for trying to push that aspect of things on you; that was wrong of me. But either way, then it all went out the window. You made me feel like a- I don't even want to say the word again. And coming from you, it was just so hurtful. Still is, if I'm being honest."

My heart ripped in half and my lungs constricted in my rib cage. I became lightheaded, like I wasn't getting enough oxygen to my brain. Any chance of reconciliation seemed hopeless, at least for the moment, and whatever progress I thought we had made paled in comparison to the pain I'd caused her in the first place. It was clear that the conversation had reached its limit and that nothing else could be repaired by talking. Hopefully, it would continue to get better in time, even though that would be more than I deserved.

"I'm so, so sorry, Hermione. I know that nothing I can say now can erase what I said before, but please know that I promise you I didn't mean it and I would take it back if I could. God, do I wish I could," I said, my throat burning and my eyes stinging.

"I appreciate you saying that and telling me your side of things, honestly. It is helpful to know where you're coming from. But, in my mind," she said, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples, "I don't know, I guess I just need time."

"That's completely fair. Thanks, you know, for hearing me out. You didn't have to, but I'm glad we got a chance to talk."

As if she knew exactly what I needed at that moment, she placed her hand on my arm and met my gaze. The comfort of her touch was enough to steady me and slow my racing heart. "Believe me when I say that I want to get back to a place where we can be friends again. We've been friends for so long and I don't want to lose you. But I need time. Time to think about…well, everything. And time to figure myself out, you know?"

"Yeah, I understand. And I won't offer to help, but you know you can reach out any time, right?"

"I know, thank you, Ron. And thank you for respecting my need for space right now. I promise we'll talk again. I'm not sure when, but it'll happen."

"Sounds good. Have a fun night, Hermione."

For a moment, I watched her float back into the main event hall. My mind was having significant difficulty processing what had happened, leaving me with a glazed look on my face and a strange sinking feeling in my gut. At least we talked, right? I finally got to explain things a little bit, so that's something. Although she still seemed really upset, so…not great.

Looking back to the start of the night, I wondered what the hell I had expected in the first place. Did I honestly believe that I'd just say it was all a misunderstanding and we'd just pick up right where we left off? That would have been insane. It would've been so insane that the rational part of my brain would've known not to trust it. But the way things played out, everything felt so incomplete. I supposed I should be grateful that she didn't scream at me the whole time, but I had never dealt with ambiguity well, and I already knew that the resultant wait to see her again would be torture.

As she melted back into the sea of people inside the museum, I turned back toward downtown. It was almost completely dark, and the city lights illuminated the skyline in that magical way that first drew me to Chicago when I'd visited Northwestern's campus for the first time. The tall spires of the Sears Tower and the Hancock Building blinked in the night as if an arc of electricity could connect them at any moment. Headlights zoomed along Lake Shore Drive, small as little specks from my vantage point. Laughter echoed through the museum campus and distant Grant Park just over the water. The city was alive and well, bustling with action on a beautiful fall evening. And I stood by myself, lamenting a lost opportunity as my family and closest friends celebrated the wedding of my best friend and my sister. I should be happy. I should be enjoying myself. I should be inside, congratulating the happy couple. But my mind had shut down, uncooperative to my reasoning and intent on wallowing.

The rest of the night passed in a blur. I'm sure that the dinner was delicious, but I could barely stomach it. At one point, my mother came over and placed her hand on my forehead, curious whether I wasn't eating because I had a fever or something. I assured her I was fine, but of course she could see right through that. In response, she marched back to the kitchen and came back a few minutes later with a tall glass of chocolate milk, one of my favorite treats when I was a kid. I politely drank it down, and my mother smiled at me and bustled off to stop my brothers from shooting a firecracker off of the edge of the balcony.

As the night wound to a close, I found myself shoulder to shoulder with my brothers and Dean and Seamus at the museum exit. Harry and Ginny were walking through rows of guests, saying their goodbyes on their way to a white stretch limousine bound for the Drake, one of the fanciest hotels in the city. When I glanced across the aisle after giving the newlyweds one last hug, I caught a glimpse of Hermione. I had successfully avoided running into her for the remainder of the evening until that point, but she was directly across from me in the receiving line. My face heated up as hers turned pink, but she offered me a small smile before turning her attention to my sister and wrapping her in a tight embrace.

Suddenly having a hard time breathing again, I snuck away from the line and back inside, ducking into the nearest restroom. I stood in front of the mirror and splashed my face with cool water before staring myself down as I leaned forward. That's enough. You said your piece, she said hers, and now it's over. Leave her alone. Don't go looking for her. Just let it rest.

Once my pulse had returned to normal, I made my way back out to the massive foyer of the museum where a swarm of people was bidding each other farewell and departing towards their cars. I picked my way through family members and friends, stopping to say goodbye as I kept my eyes open for any sign of Hermione. Even though I had nothing more to add, I was still hoping to at least say good night before she left. As soon as I reached the sidewalk, I spotted her climbing into the back seat of a cab and slamming the door shut behind her. The tail lights lit up briefly before extinguishing as the car pulled away from the curb, carrying her back to her apartment and back out of my life for God knows how long.

I watched the cab until it sped out of sight before turning back, traipsing back into the hall, and finding my mother waiting for me, thrusting a glass towards me. Where does she keep getting all this chocolate milk?

"Don't worry, Ronnie. She'll come around," Mom said, that twinkle of knowledge in her eye.

"Mom, how did you-"

"Oh, come now. A mother always knows. Now, chin up and help me with these presents."

Polishing off the refreshing drink, I set the glass down on the table, shook my head, and followed her back into the hall.