A/N: Thanks so much to everyone leaving regular feedback on this story - reading your comments is one of my favorite parts of publishing here. Please continue to let me know what you think of this story!

Thanks as always to the incomparable accio-broom for your help in polishing up these chapters.

When we left off last week, our heroes had finally managed to talk after their huge argument, albeit a bit awkwardly. Let's see what happens when they are forced to talk again, shall we? :)

November 21, 2012, 10:20am

I-94 heading south out of Chicago was already jammed. It was the day before Thanksgiving, it was drizzling non-stop, and there were tail lights in front of us as far as the eye could see. The bumper-to-bumper traffic was predictable for one of the busiest travel days of the year, so I found myself sitting in the backseat of Harry and Ginny's new Subaru Outback and trying not to think about how long the trip was going to take. Harry was sitting next to me while Ginny drove, and I sat behind the passenger seat, doing my best to avoid contact with its occupant.

Months ago, Harry had offered Hermione a ride home for Thanksgiving. We had all planned to head back to Michigan together for the holiday, and despite the recent falling out, Harry wasn't going to leave her in the lurch with only a few weeks to go. To his credit, he and Ginny did ask me to make sure I was still comfortable with the arrangement. Until we had had our conversation at the wedding, I had been contemplating taking the train back myself to make everyone more comfortable. Once we had talked, though, I figured that I would at least be able to be in the same car with her for a few hours.

But now that we were two feet away from each other and I realized that it would probably take longer than a few hours to get home, I was having second thoughts. True to my word and trying to be respectful of her need for space, I had had no contact with Hermione for the last month since the wedding. I had to fight the urge to ask Harry about her since they were still in contact. Fortunately, Harry was more perceptive than he sometimes seemed and would occasionally drop bits of information letting me know that she was doing alright. He really was a great friend.

As the trip dragged on, our car moving no more than ten miles over the next hour or so, I felt even worse. Nobody was talking. I had planned to keep to myself for the most part anyway, but the elephant in the room was crushing any conversation that might have popped up. Usually, when the four of us got together, you couldn't get us to shut up. Finally deciding to put us out of our misery, Ginny turned on the Young The Giant album. Every now and then, she and Hermione would exchange a few words in the front seat, out of earshot of the back of the car. After Harry fell asleep as we were crawling through Gary, Indiana, I knew the rest of the trip would just entail listening to music and maybe getting a nap myself.

We didn't end up pulling into Hermione's parent's driveway until almost five in the afternoon. I bid her a quick Happy Thanksgiving, then settled into the back seat again for the remaining twenty-five-minute trip to my childhood home.

"You okay?" Harry asked as Ginny pulled back onto the highway.

"Yeah," I replied. "Sorry, guys. I didn't think it would be that awkward. I feel horrible."

"Don't worry about it, bro," Ginny answered. "As much as I'd love to blame you, everyone was clearly exhausted, so we probably wouldn't have been that talkative anyway. Plus, I'm a fucking fantastic DJ, so the tunes were amazing."

I chuckled and leaned my forehead against the cool glass, watching as Hermione's house disappeared into the distance. "Thanks, Gin."

Never thought I'd look forward to seeing my family instead of Hermione, but at least the rest of the holiday weekend will be more relaxed. I hope.

November 22, 2012, 5:55pm

I was stuffed. My mother had truly outdone herself yet again. The turkey looked like it had popped out of a Normal Rockwell painting, at least thirty pounds with a crispy, golden skin. Between our family and their spouses and kids, there were fifteen people at dinner, and we collectively demolished the turkey and half a dozen classic side dishes. Once dinner had finished, my mother embarked on her traditional post-Thanksgiving walk around the neighborhood, her own personal quiet time after being in the kitchen all day.

As family members gradually dispersed, I was left sitting across from my older brother, Bill. Bill had been married for over a decade to Fleur, and the two of them had come home with their two kids from Fleur's native France. They'd been living there for the last few years and, much to my mother's disappointment, they showed no sign of returning to the States any time soon.

"Full?" Bill asked as he polished off his beer.

"Stuffed to the gills," I replied. "Couldn't move if I tried."

"Then Mom's done her job, wouldn't you say?" he asked with a wink.

I nodded, patting my full belly and glancing out the window. It was already pitch black outside, but the wind was still whipping through the willow branches in the front yard, rattling the screens on the rickety old windows. A draft crept through and brushed a chill through me, although I suspected it wasn't as bad as it would've been if I hadn't just eaten half my body weight in Thanksgiving dinner.

Bill stood up and disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with two small pieces of Christmas chocolate. "Still have room for this, though, right? It's after Thanksgiving, which means the Christmas season has officially commenced," he said, handing me the candy, "so Mom can't get mad."

"You're thirty-seven years old, Bill. She's not in charge of your nutritional choices anymore."

"You wanna tell her that?"

The grin that spread over my face told him everything he needed to know. We might be adults, but when Mom spoke, we listened.

"So what have you been up to, little bro?" Bill continued.

"Not much. Got a nice promotion at work, and just at the right time. With Harry moving in with Ginny, I really needed it to continue to afford my place."

"Think you might move? Or just hang on to the second bedroom?"

"Who knows," I replied, taking a bite of chocolate. "Kinda dumb to pay for a two-bedroom apartment just for myself, I guess."

"Any…lady friends on the horizon that you could share it with?" he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

I balled up my candy wrapper and threw it at his face as I sneered at him. "Not at the moment. I don't know…maybe I could make the second bedroom into an office or something."

"Do you need an office?"

"No…"

For a moment, Bill looked around the room, a pensive expression on his face, until his eyes lit up and he snapped his fingers. "Hey, what about Hermione? Wasn't Harry saying she'd moved back to Chicago? You guys have been friends forever, why don't you see if she wants to move in?"

It didn't matter how hard I tried, I couldn't subdue my reaction in time. I winced, pulling my mouth into a tight pucker and scrunching up my face as I looked down at my hands.

"Ahh," Bill said, picking up on my non-verbal cues. "Sore subject? Sorry, I'm pretty out of the loop, living across the ocean and all."

"It's alright, you didn't know. Needless to say, no, Hermione is not an option."

"Is everything okay? You know, I'm still surprised that you two never-"

I glared up at him with narrowed eyes, and he got the message and stopped in his tracks.

"Umm, so what happened? Did you guys just never reconnect when she came back from California?"

I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck before placing my chin in my palm and launching into the story. At least Bill's not going to be a dick about it, unlike Fred or George. "No, we did. She was working with us for a while at our company, actually. Things were fine at first."

"But not recently, I take it?"

"No, definitely not recently."

"I see. I thought things looked a little frosty at the wedding. Look, I've heard through the grapevine that you guys have a tricky past, but I'm sure it must have been reassuring for her to have someone she knew nearby after she moved."

"Yeah, initially I think that probably was the case. Harry and I didn't see too much of her outside of work, but it was still nice for all of us to be back in one place again."

"So what went wrong?"

"My stupid mouth," I said, leaning back and slumping down in my chair. "I screwed myself over like usual."

"Oh, yeah, I've been there. You know, one time Fleur stopped talking to me for three weeks when we were dating because I said that Mom's cooking was better than hers."

"You did?"

"Not too bright, huh? I meant it in a completely different way, but the damage was done. It's like we can't help it sometimes. Every now and then, the filter just stops working."

"Yeah, well mine seemed to go offline permanently one morning, and…well, that was all it took."

"I doubt it was that bad," Bill said, his upper lip curling.

I could tell he was trying to get the story out of me, but I really didn't feel like reliving one of the lowest moments of my life again, so I deflected. "Trust me, it was. It happened two months ago and, aside from one conversation at the wedding, we haven't really spoken since."

"Well, what did she say at the wedding?"

"Just that she needed time. Time to," I paused, shaking my head, "figure things out, whatever that means."

Bill nodded, looking way happier than I felt. "That's good, then! Time is fine, you have time. If she didn't want you back in her life at some point, she could've just cut you off."

"She still might," I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

"Yeah, but probably not. Especially since you're going to fight for her."

I quirked my brow and stared back at him as I took another swig of my beer. "What makes you say that?"

"Because you're in love with her," he replied with a matter-of-fact tone.

Damn, he's good.

I scoffed and turned away, waving him off dismissively. "Come on, be serious."

"You're actually going to deny it?"

"Hermione and I have been friends forever. There was one point in time when we almost started dating, but it never happened before and it never will in the future."

A smile crept onto his face as he laughed. It was infuriating, and it was all I could do not to reach across the table and try to smack him in the side of the head. "God, sometimes I forget you're still basically a child. Ron, it's obvious. I barely see you anymore and I've seen Hermione maybe twice since you guys were in high school, and it's obvious."

"No, it's not."

"It is. I get why you can't see that it is, but it is."

"How are you so sure?"

"Because you're still wallowing about her after one of the best meals you'll eat all year. And you couldn't wipe that smile off your face when Harry mentioned her during dinner. And you're blushing every time you say her name."

Fuck, I thought my face was getting hot.

"Well, maybe it was…maybe it even still is, but it doesn't matter anymore. She's furious with me."

"For now, but knowing you, I'd bet you didn't do anything unforgivable."

"You'd be surprised."

Bill snickered and stood up from the table, taking his empty beer bottle with him. "Whatever you say, man. Just, tell you what. Be patient and keep your eyes open. I'm sure this saga isn't complete yet."

I groaned, my frame sinking further down my chair. "Don't remind me."

The bell above the door startled me as my mother walked back in from the damp November cold. A gust of wind followed her in, chasing Bill out of the kitchen and back towards his wife and children in the living room.

"Well, then, is everyone ready for pie?" Mrs. Weasley asked me.

I glared back at her, holding my stomach. "You've got to be kidding me, mom."

"Alright, alright, but soon! Thanksgiving dinner is not complete without dessert!"

There was no use fighting. I simply nodded and pulled myself up from the table. Maybe a few minutes of rest would help clear my head. Stepping through the bustle of activity and dodging my nieces and nephews, I snuck up to my room and collapsed onto my bed. As I lay there, trying to think of anything but her, I was struck with a depressing realization.

I've brooded about Hermione in this room for more than half of my life at this point.

Needless to say, the thought did nothing to improve the chances that I'd be going back for pie any time soon.

November 24, 2012, 7:40pm

How is this going to work? The timing is just horrible.

The leftovers had long been polished off, and some of my brothers had already returned to their normal lives. Just a few hours ago, my parents had surprised everyone by announcing that they were sending Harry and Ginny on a late honeymoon. They would be leaving the next morning for a seven-day stay at an all-inclusive resort on the coast of Mexico. The two of them had been too busy with work to take a real honeymoon after the wedding, but they had both taken an extra week off of work responsibilities immediately after Thanksgiving for what was originally going to be a staycation in Chicago. Instead, they were thrilled to be only hours away from jetting off to the tropics.

What nobody failed to consider, however, was that their trip would end up putting me in one of the most awkward pickles of my life. I still had to be back at work in just over thirty-six hours, and we had promised Hermione a ride back to Chicago as well. Between celebratory whoops, both my sister and my best friend had told me they were happy for me to take their car back so I wasn't stranded in Michigan. They had also both been thoroughly apologetic about the difficult position in which I was left, but I suspect they were too happy to be that bothered. Ginny had then called Hermione to explain the situation. Hermione had been understandably upset, but she was very gracious about it, probably because she had no other options. As soon as I'd heard the news, I looked into flights or buses, but of course everything was booked up. There was no recourse. Hermione and I were going to take a six-hour road trip by ourselves.

As our last evening at home wound down, I found myself sitting in the kitchen with my mother. Harry and Ginny were upstairs trying to cobble together enough summer clothes to pack for their trip, Fred and George were out with our father on a trip to Best Buy to look at the latest electronics, and Bill and Fleur were putting their kids to bed. Trying to make myself useful, I brought in plates from the table and placed them in the kitchen sink as Mom scrubbed away.

"Can I help you with that?" I asked, rolling up my sleeves.

My mother vehemently shook her head and tutted at me. "Nonsense, you're on vacation. You can wash the dishes when we come to visit you."

"But you do the dishes then, too."

"Ronald, I'm a mother, it's what we do."

"Fair enough," I replied, chuckling and plopping down in one of the kitchen chairs next to the sink, an exasperated exhale escaping my lips.

"Something on your mind?"

"No, just not really looking forward to the drive back tomorrow."

"Ahh, lots of traffic, I'd imagine, no?" Mom asked, tilting her head towards me.

"Umm, yeah. Traffic."

As my mother and I hit one of our characteristic lulls in the conversation, I thought about getting up and seeing what everyone else was doing, but I felt bad. I was so horrible at calling her when I was back in Chicago, I knew that I owed her some face time after she had been cooking and cleaning up a storm for days before we all arrived.

"At least you'll still have some company, won't you?"

"Sure, company."

Mom's brow creased as she turned off the water and turned to face me, drying her hands before placing them on her hips. "What am I missing here?"

"Nothing, Mom," I said with a groan. "It's just always a bummer to go back to work after the holidays, you know?"

"No, I don't think that's it. Why are you upset about spending time with Hermione? Are you two still fighting about something like you were at the wedding? Such a shame, you two were practically inseparable way back when."

"Yeah, well, that was a long time ago. Things change."

"Aren't you friends anymore? I didn't think it was that bad. Harry said she lives right down the street from your apartment?" she said, shuffling around the table and sitting down across from me.

"She does, and it's pretty bad. Everything has been weird lately."

"Oh? Did one of you finally tell the other how you feel?"

"Mom!" I spluttered, my face suddenly blazing as I buried my head in my hands. Does the entire world know about this? Have I been that obvious?

"What? It's been years, Ronald, it's not that hard to discern."

I pushed back from my chair, moving to stand up. "I really don't want to talk about this, Mom."

"Stop. Sit."

Something about mothers makes people powerless to resist their directives. It doesn't matter how old they are. I could become the President of the United States someday and I would still have to abandon a Middle East peace deal if she told me to come home and clean my room. What the hell was with that?

Of course, I sat down with a huff and glared back at her.

"Now," she continued. "What's going on here? One way or another, you all have promised this young lady a ride home, and that's what you will do. We Weasleys may not have much, but we have our word, and our word is ironclad."

"I'm not going to ditch her, Mom. It's just not going to be a very pleasant trip. For either of us, I'm sure."

"And why is that?"

"Well, I mean you know we're not on the best terms right now."

"And why is that?"

"Because," I replied, reaching for a piece of candy from the communal bowl on the table, "I screwed up."

"Well, we know that's not the whole story. So, come now, what else is the problem?"

"We had a bit of a…misunderstanding. I don't know, Mom, things are just crappy and I don't want to talk about it."

As I leaned back in my chair, expecting a full-on lecture about being a good friend or turning the other cheek or something. Instead, however, I was surprised to see her facial features soften and her eyes droop a touch.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said, looking sadder by the second. "It does explain your dour attitude this weekend, but still, I'm sorry to hear it. You two were always so close. I'll admit I always hoped something more might happen there, if only because I want the best for you and I very much doubt you could do better than Hermione Granger. Such a lovely girl. Besides, with Harry and Ginny getting married and you living alone now, I worry about you, Ronald. You need people in your life, especially your best friends. And, like it or not, your sister and Harry won't count the way they used to; they will be moving on to a new phase."

"I have friends, Mom. I'm not a recluse or anything."

A tender hand dropped onto my palm, and my mother gave my hand a gentle squeeze as the sincere look in her eye caught me off guard.

"I know, dear. But I know what makes you happy. I've seen the pattern for years. There's something about Hermione that has always had an impact on you. You're at your best when the two of you are closest. You know, I never worried about you throughout most of high school and college. Those years after you graduated when you two were apart, however," she said, patting my hand again, "that scared me. You weren't yourself. I barely recognized you when we talked on the phone or whenever you came home. And then she moved back, and it was like you suddenly came back. I'm not asking you to tell me about what's going on with you two; I'm smart enough to know that it's none of my business. But I genuinely hope that you're doing what you can to repair things, because no mother wants to see her son suffer like that, and it's clear that you're suffering right now."

She was right. She was exactly fucking right. It was almost annoying how spot-on she was. It wasn't just now; the last couple of decades had followed the same pattern. As I looked back on the arc of my life since I'd met Hermione, it was crystal clear to me how my happiness had always been directly proportional to my relationship with her. It was quite the epiphany, but at that moment, it only served to make me more depressed. Knowing that the exact thing that could make me happy was inaccessible was torture on another level.

"I wish it were that simple, Mom."

With a chuckle and a swipe of my messy hair, she stood up and came over to my side of the table, pulling me into a hug from where I remained seated. "We're all pulling for you, Ronald. And, for what it's worth, I can tell you that I'm sure she's always had feelings for you, too. Mother's instinct, remember? The path you two have taken hasn't always been straightforward. That said, I suspect it has been the same for you as it was for her. Nobody can predict the future, but something tells me she'll come around. You mean the world to her, too."

"You really think so?" I said, tears stinging my eyes.

"I do. Some things are just too logical not to happen."

"We'll see, I guess."

"Yes, we will," she replied, giving my back one last rub. "Now, as you've so kindly suggested and since a distraction may be just the ticket, I believe I will allow you to finish the dishes. I've got one more chapter left in my book and I'm dying to know how it ends."

"Fair enough, Mom," I replied with a laugh as I rose and stepped over to the sink, breathing deeply as I picked up the sponge and tried to clear my head.

November 25, 2012, 4:45pm

Aside from exchanging pleasantries when I'd shown up at Hermione's house and asking whether she needed a rest stop, the conversation had been non-existent the whole drive back. Instead, the music was constantly pumping. We'd worked through the debut album from Walk The Moon in addition to Ingrid Michaelson's "Everybody", "Bomb in a Birdcage" by A Fine Frenzy, and the newly released "good kid, m.A.A.d. city" by Kendrick Lamar. As much as I loved the music, though, the pit in my stomach just kept drilling deeper and deeper as we approached Chicago. I really wanted to talk with her one more time while we had uninterrupted time together, but I just couldn't figure out how to start. Story of my life, really.

The city skyline was barely visible as we entered the state of Illinois, meaning that we only had about an hour to go before we'd arrive back at her apartment. The sun was setting off to my left, casting a glare off the west-facing windows of the buildings up ahead. A few fluffy clouds dotted the sky, and the autumn breeze blew the leaves across the dozen or so lanes of traffic. By all accounts, it was a perfect fall evening, which did absolutely nothing to improve my mood.

A few times throughout the trip, Hermione had looked as though she was going to say something. Her mouth would open or she would turn to me suddenly, but nothing had ever happened. The ball had been left in her court, so I didn't want to say anything, but almost five hours of silence was driving me crazy. It didn't help that her rosemary and citrus scent was flooding the car and making it impossible for me to focus on anything but her. Good thing all we had to do was stay on the same road or else I probably would've missed an exit.

As we crawled through the towns south of the city, I was assuming that the whole trip would be in silence until I saw her wet her lips out of the corner of my eye.

"That city can really kick your ass sometimes, huh?" she said, gesturing ahead.

I turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry?"

"I mean, isn't the Midwest supposed to be this friendly, happy-go-lucky place?"

"Umm, I guess. Are you okay? Did something happen recently?"

"Yeah, so-" she started before cutting herself off, shaking her head and chuckling. "Never mind, don't worry about it."

"No, it's fine, you can tell me if you like."

"Nah, I shouldn't have said anything, sorry. Want me to find a new CD?"

I can't do it anymore. We have to talk to each other before this trip is over.

"If I'm being honest, no, I'd prefer to talk with you. Unless…unless you'd rather not."

"I just don't want to burden you. It's really not your problem in the slightest."

"Maybe not," I said, spinning the volume knob all the way down. "But that doesn't mean I'm not happy to help. I've lived here for a while, perhaps I have some insight."

Her lips pursed as she weighed her options. Seconds passed, her eyes flicking around the scenery trying to decide what to do. Much to my happy surprise, she finally replaced the case full of CDs in the glove compartment and snapped it shut.

"I figured Chicago would have opportunities left and right. I thought I'd be able to find something that really used my skills and made me feel like I was making a difference, as cheesy as that sounds."

"It's not cheesy," I interjected. "We all want to think that the things we devote our time to are worthwhile and beneficial to society."

"Exactly. But I just can't find anything. I've been looking for weeks, and there's nothing."

"I'm sorry, Fri-Hermione. But don't give up, I'm sure there's something out there. I didn't end up getting my current job until the last minute right before I graduated, so you never know what might happen."

"Yeah, I guess. It's just depressing. Starting to make me wonder whether I made the right decision coming here."

That didn't sound great. I swallowed hard, worried that her discouragement would lead her away from me again. Something told me that if she left the city for somewhere completely new, that would be it. Any chance of us remaining good friends or something more than that would be out the window permanently.

"For what it's worth, I still think you can really thrive around here."

"Well, I appreciate that, but it would be more helpful if you were the one assigning jobs," she said with a chuckle.

"Sorry. They haven't given me that much power. Yet."

Her smile made me dizzy for a moment before I refocused my eyes to make sure I wouldn't drive off the road. Fuck, I have to stop looking at her, we're going to get in an accident!

"If only," she replied. "But…thanks, Ron."

It was an opening. The kind of opening that made my mouth go dry and made my heart speed up, but strangely, that's how I knew it was probably the right time to try to continue the conversation. But I couldn't jump right in with both feet; that could end in disaster. No, better to wade in gradually and see how it goes.

"You know, I did promise to help you with this at one point. That offer still stands."

"I know you did."

"Okay, well, just wanted to make sure you remembered."

It was silent for a while longer as we entered city limits. The skyscrapers now loomed large in front of us as we skirted through the south side, on and off the brakes as the traffic thickened.

"It's not that I don't want your help," she finally said, throwing her hands in the air with an exasperated sigh. "I just really think this is something I need to do on my own. And, to be truthful…it still feels weird being around you sometimes since, well, that night."

There it was. The honesty I'd been craving. As much as it pained me to hear her say that I made her uncomfortable, finally knowing where she stood took part of the weight off of my shoulders.

"I understand. I'm glad you're telling me what you're thinking, and I'm sorry that I still…well, never mind."

"Trust me, this isn't what I want either. I want things to be back to normal, too. It's just not that simple."

The situation was beginning to feel hopeless. I wondered whether we'd ever be able to get over this hump. Being completely forthright with people wasn't always my forte, but I felt the need to be as straight with her as possible.

I glanced over to her as we came to a standstill and put the car in park. "I get it. But at the same time, I don't know how much more I can apologize. I've tried talking to you in person, stopping by your apartment, groveling over text. I've tried everything I can think of. And if that's never going to be enough, then I think part of me would rather you just tell me now. Because I can't just be your casual acquaintance, Hermione. I can't. We have too much history for that."

Traffic started moving again as she stared blankly back at me, her expression unreadable. I put the car back in gear and turned my attention in front of me, hoping I hadn't pissed her off so thoroughly that we'd return to silence.

"I know," she said with a soft tone. "I don't think I could do that, either. That's part of what's making this so difficult."

For the next several minutes, nobody spoke. The occasional revving of the engine as we inched our way into the West Loop reverberated through my skull against the headrest. My leg was cramping up from being on and off the brakes for miles, but it was nothing compared to the pinching sensation in my head as I felt like I was witnessing the end of something important.

It wasn't until we exited at Addison Street and made the final approach towards our neighborhood that she finally chimed in again. "So, what now?"

I shrugged and exhaled, unsure how to answer her question. "No idea."

"You know I barely slept last night?" she said with a melancholy laugh.

"Really? Why?"

"This! You, me, us! I knew we'd be driving the whole way home together and I was trying to figure out what to do, what to say, right?"

"Yeah. It kept me up a little too."

"And I'm just so…fucking conflicted. We both said things in the heat of the moment that I know we wish we could take back, and I want to believe that just knowing that is enough. But try as I might, I just can't get my brain to move past it."

My resolve was weakening, the despair settling into my bones. I was out of options. It was all up to her now. "I-I don't know what you want me to say here. I don't know what I can say that I haven't said yet."

"Yup, that's the conclusion I kept arriving at as well. I want to be friends again like we were before, but I don't know, something's holding me back. Plus, I'm at this place in my life where I really need to focus on myself and make sure I get this next step right and it's stressing me out like crazy and I'm sure that's not helping things, but God, I just can't get my head right. And then, on top of it all, I know that you'd be such a big help with all of these things but…well, you know. Anyway, I'm sorry to, like, word vomit all over you, but I hope that helps you understand a little bit of where I'm at right now. I feel like, if nothing else, I owe you that."

Wow, that was a lot. I don't know whether to be glad that she at least still seems to want to reconcile or frustrated that it doesn't seem likely to happen anytime soon, though. And I hope she's OK. She's wound so tightly…

'"Thanks, I appreciate it," I said, one corner of my mouth rising into a lopsided grin. "Really. It does help to know your thought process a bit. And I can respect your need for space, I promise, even if it's hard."

"Do you hate me?"

"Of course I don't hate you," I replied. I wanted to reach out and take her hand, but that would probably send the exact wrong message at a time like this.

"I'm so sorry. You've tried hard to make amends and I'm just being obstinate like usual."

"No, don't say that. I told you, I understand completely. Please don't feel bad about it."

As we pulled up in front of her apartment building, a profound sadness came over me as I considered that it could be a long time before we saw each other again. She gathered her things from the back seat, and not knowing what else to say or do, I just sat still and stared out the front windshield. Once she had her backpack and pillow on her lap, she turned toward me, making no move to exit the car.

"You're an amazing person, Ron. You're so amazing that I'm pretty sure I don't even deserve to be friends with you."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"No, I'm serious. Anybody else would have said 'fuck it' and bailed by now. Erased my number and decided it wasn't worth the hassle. But not you. Sometimes I'm surprised you haven't."

Enough was enough. I had never been one for sweeping declarations of affection, but if she was still that confused about my feelings for her, I felt the need to straighten things out as clearly as possible.

"Of course I haven't bailed. Hermione, I care about you so much. I always have and I always will. Hanging out with you has always made me a happier and better person. And even though I know I'll probably screw things up again at some point and we'll definitely get in fights because we can both be stubborn at times, I would still rather spend my time with you than with anybody else. I don't mind arguing with you and being challenged by you and having to deal with your weird idiosyncrasies or anything, and it bothers me every day that I threw away what we had. I won't apologize again because I know you're sick of it and I've already said it all, but now you know where I stand. If the time comes when you're ready to try to be friends again, you know where to find me."

Her breathing hitched as she turned away and sniffed, my heart skipping a beat when I saw her bite her lower lip to hold back a smile. "Thanks, Ron. For the ride and…everything."

"Of course. I hope you have a great rest of your holiday season."

"You too."

With a quick wave backward, she stepped out of the car and marched up to her building without looking back, although I saw her wipe her eyes right after she ducked inside. Once she closed the front door, I dropped my head into my hands and released a breath I hadn't known I was holding in. In some ways, seeing her react like that just worsened the torture of this situation. It looked like my words affected her more than she would like and more than she had expected. All hope may not be lost, but who knew how long it might take to get back to a degree of normalcy. And, going forward, the ball was squarely in her court.

I drove the last several blocks back to my empty apartment in silence, trying to figure out what I was going to do when I got back. The right answer, of course, was laundry and cleaning. That said, something told me that I would end up on the couch for the rest of the evening pretending to watch TV while overanalyzing the last hour. What else could I do but wait?