Ron

It's eleven o'clock and Hermione won't stop nagging me to go home. She got a week holiday with Ginny and Luna, and it was totally fine, now that I got here, obviously, we need to go home. She wants to be back to Hugo she alleges but I know she just wants to be in Europe. Since yesterday she is fidgeting, trying to grasp any occasion to seize a fire to call in England. This morning I've barely seen her face, hidden by a newspaper after the other. Obviously, we didn't get any sex. I was very aroused yesterday; she was so hot with that dress I could scarcely believe it was the same wife of mine that goes around the house with one of my old t-shirts and some utterly unappealing sweatpants. I noticed all the side glances she was getting by other men, and I felt smug in the knowledge that she is my wife, and I only can possess her, and I must say, opposite to Ginny, who was even too self-conscious, she was totally unaware of the admiration she was arousing.
When we got home after the party, I had alcohol enough to be as horny as hell and I couldn't wait to unwrap that corset from around her. For once we are alone without Hugo in the house and we can let ourselves to all the noise that most please us! But no. Obviously. She was too worried over the breakout, too tired, headache and the usual bullshit. She wanted to call Harry. Obviously.
She didn't even allow me to unzip her dress. She went straight to the loo and once outside she had one of my old t-shirts on and the unappealing sweatpants.
I was almost tempted to go straight out and look for a hooker, I swear.
For god's sake, I need to have sex time to time! She cannot expect me to live a life of celibacy! I have needs!
And since she scarcely gives it to me, I must look elsewhere. I don't go for hookers, but I had some other women time to time when chance presented itself. I'm not proud of it, mind. Quite the opposite. And I keep it very quiet, if mum found out she would go nuts, Harry and Ginny would kill me, Hermione would chuck me, and I'd lose Hugo and Rose. I can't risk it; it must be kept quiet. With my job in England, it was pretty easy anyway. There was always a reason to work late. George was the only one who knew; working together it was impossible to hide it from him. I know he minds his own business, and he is not the kind who patronize, he only said that he won't lie to cover me so I must hope nobody will never ask him anything (and there is no reason anybody should) and that he hopes Hermione does the same. The hell she does! If I find out something like that, I won't answer of myself. If she would say yes a bit more often, there wouldn't be any need for me to do all this.
And again, mind, it doesn't happen so frequently. Women don't fall from the sky in my arms. I'm not Harry who only need to step out of his door to be surrounded. I need to toil.
And yet I have been accosted more than once by girls who wanted to get to Harry through his best mate. As I would ever do anything of the kind. They are prone to forget that together with best mate I'm also brother-in-law. But well, despite clearly stupid, they are always quite hot babes, ready to do anything to have the chance to speak to him. I don't find it wrong to have profited of the thing a few times since apparently Harry never does. Or so he says…
Anyway, that happy life ended with us moving to Rumania. Here it's much more difficult, working with Charlie and everything. He is not like George at all, therefore, it's ages I don't get any.
When we moved here Hermione had been unusually caring and sweet, but I was so totally wretched and shattered I didn't even notice. I killed a child. And not any child. My niece. My sister and my best mate's only daughter. And she was a wonderful child, a cheeky little girl always ready to laugh. I can't count all the time she stayed over our place to play with Hugo. She used to tell me I was her favourite uncle and I always liked to tease her saying that I was sure she was repeating it to every uncle, that one must never trust a woman when she speaks about favourites. She always laughed and answered I could believe her because she wasn't a woman just yet. Hugo was smitten with her. He confided me in great secret more than once that he was going to marry her when seventeen. Sweet, isn't it?!
And I killed her.
It was a mistake, I didn't mean to, but the stain is there, it won't wash away. I killed my son's sweetheart under his eyes.
It will be harboured in him forever.
It will be harboured in me forever.
I made my whole family an outcast.
I almost killed myself.
I'm not proud of it. It was wrong and I reproached myself bitterly since. But nobody can quite fathom what it means Azkaban. Shut in a freezing cold cell with barely any sun. You have nothing to do all day long. One minute seems an hour and you have no way to follow the flow of time. I was alone with my dark thoughts in this maddening environment, with the conviction that I was going to spend in there my whole life. And not having anything else to occupy my mind, thoughts grew out of all proportion, and they started to be hunting swallowing everything else. Even the joys of my life were tainted by it; I could never have faced my children again with this weight over my shoulders, my sister, my parents, my wife… I was brought to think that there was no way out and from there it was an easy step to the only way out.
It took me a long time to get over it and now I just try not to think about it. I try not to think about that freckly little girl who used to say I was her favourite uncle. I try not to think that my hands are stained forever by a murder of a child.
Harry not speaking to me doesn't help but I can hardly condemn him. If the other way round I would have killed him.
Still, let's not forget the reason that triggered the accident.
He shagged my wife.
For seven years he alleged himself my best mate, and I scarified everything for him. I accepted to be in the shadow, to be known only as "that red hair guy who hang around with Harry Potter", I risked my life, I became a target too, I lost a brother, I gave him my family, I gave him my sister and what did I get back? He shagged my wife as soon as I turned my back. And he had the nerve to swear that he considered her only a sister. I'd like to see his face if I would knob Ginny.
I feel my blood simmering every time I think about it. He knew what I felt for her, he couldn't not know, he just wanted to be always first, as usual. He wanted to teach me that I must be contented being second after him. He could have had any girl in school, none would have said no to him. There was only one I really cared, and he had to get that one.
I have always found comfort in the fact that, despite always in the shadow, despite not being particularly dashing or clever, Hermione chose me over him. It was the comfort of my life. The conviction that I was worth something after all, for somebody I was better than Harry Potter.
I don't know if it hurts more his betrayal or hers. I thought she loved me. I hoped, her, unlike everybody else, was immune to him.
How could she do something like that? How could she tell me that she loved me after having been with nonetheless than Harry?
She was the only person who preferred me over him. Not even my family does, they all love Harry so much more than they ever loved me. Look how mum and dad fuss over him, how well George gets along with him, even Bill invites him over more often than he ever invited me. But Hermione... We never discussed it afterward. I don't want to run the risk to hear something unpleasant. I prefer to pretend not to see what it's so blatantly under my eyes daily. We all pretend blithely not to see. I play dumb, Hermione hides it well, Ginny bears it composedly… The only one who probably didn't realise anything is Harry, never too quick to discern love in other people's eyes perhaps because he gets that same soppy look from everybody around him. Every single person in this world loves him, he is not accustomed to see anything else.
But I know the love in Hermione's eyes is different. She longs for him in the same way as she longed for me at the beginning. In the same way as I long for her.
You have no idea the mortification, the frustration of having to assist to Harry cuddling her under my very eyes and her loving face receiving those effusion while when it's me doing the same I can feel her rigidity, I can feel her coldness. Only when pregnant, softened by her state, I could indulge in those marks of affection without being rejected. But it never lasted that long. And after a while I just stopped trying. It was only depressing.
I've always known she was too much for me. I always wondered why, clever as she is, she chose me. Now, after years posing myself the same question while watching her reading a book, caring for our children and get ready to go to work, now I know. She chose me because she couldn't have Harry and I was the closest thing to him and it's only a matter of time before she will realise that, not only she doesn't love me, but she despises me, and she'll go away with my children, and I'll lose everything. I won't allow it! I won't allow her to leave me if I can avoid it. I'll keep her close to me in a way or other because I love her and… she must love me back. She must. She owes that to me.
She knows Harry will never love her, even an idiot can see he is besotted with Ginny and doesn't give a damn about her. That is my only consolation.
Still, I feel resentment toward him. He is everything I've always hoped to be, and he doesn't appreciate it at all. He despises his situation; he scorns all his lucks: he has got tons of money and doesn't care. He could easily buy a villa with swimming pool adorned with a bloody statue of him right at the feet of the Big Ben and for mysterious reasons they live in a quite common terraced house, in a quite common borough.
He could have all the women he pleases; they literally beg him to be shagged, and he actually complains of it! I'm not joking, you understood perfectly well, I swear he complains of it! A tear escapes my eyes every time… The whole world worships him to such an extent that everything he says is gold, everything he does is worth of notice; if he is seen buying something in a shop the next day you can be sure that place is assaulted by customers, if he gets out with a tea cosy on his head you can bet the next day everybody will do the same. In every bloody town of this bloody country there is a statue of him. Half of the children of the magical community are called Harry, the girls either Lily, or Sunrise. He doesn't seem to notice, when he does, he only gets irked. Perhaps he should try, just for one day to be a nobody as he wishes to be and see if he likes it. Watching the world around you not caring if you live or die, if you are happy or not. Being insignificant. Being me for example. I get so mad when I think of all those gifts wasted on him when I really would make so much of it, I would appreciate them as they should be! And then perhaps I wouldn't care if Hermione would love me or not. I would stop to brood over it like a fool.
'Are you not ready, yet?'
Hermione snaps while I'm swinging on the hammock in the porch looking at the glimmering sea.
'For Christ's sake, I got here yesterday! I didn't even have a swim yet! Can't we just relax for the day?'
'Hugo is waiting for us'
'Hugo is fine. Charlie said not to hurry' I reply setting back my sunglasses and slumping a bit farther down in the hammock.
'Ron, I want to go, so either you get a move, or I'll go by myself'
I'm almost tempted to accept to stay behind. Yesterday at the wedding there was a girl that seemed quite charmed by my 'cute British accent' as she described it, and she sent me one or two alluring glances. I didn't press the matter because I was sure I would have concluded with my wife but seeing how it ended it has proven to be a mistake. I can just ask casually Sean who she is and see if I can get anywhere. Girls here are just so hot it makes one dizzy. I wouldn't mind staying a couple of days more. However, a hunch tells me that if I let her go, she is going to go straight to England (aka Harry) and I'd rather prefer to avoid that.
Therefore, grunting, I leave the hammock and I follow her inside. A whim of the moment makes me try an approach. I hug her from behind and I press my groin against her buttocks, she has a really gorgeous, round, firm backside. She tries to shrug me off, but I don't allow her to. Sometimes it works when I insist. I'm not sure whether because she gets aroused or because she just doesn't feel like arguing but I'd like to believe the first.
So, I thrust my hands under her t-shirt playing the card persuasiveness. She has got a body that makes blood boil in my vein.
Shame I'm never allowed to touch it.
And today it seems not to be an exception.
'Ron, leave me alone and go pack your bag!' she orders stern pushing me away.
I'm so mad it's better to keep my mouth shut. I go in the bedroom and, not having any other choice, I close myself in the loo to jerk off. As an act of revenge, I don't think about her in that slinky, sexy corset but I bring back my mind to one of the best shags ever had, one of Harry's whippersnapper, brunette, huge tits, hot as a furnace. That evening for a long time I worked late very often, so much workload accumulated, time to time it was even necessary to work over the weekend.
The girl didn't even try to extort me a silly promise regarding Harry to get laid with her. However, it wasn't for free either; she never accepted money but expected everything else. Between costly presents, paying all her bills and rent, I've been relieved of quite a lot of gold. Worth every knuts anyway. It kept going for a while but then, because all the good things must end, and because I'm always deprived of what gives me joy in favour of Harry, she told me she was going to change her life for Harry's sake, and it was either him or no man at all. Knowing Harry, it was going to be no man at all. Such a waste. But then, who knows… Perhaps she will manage by perseverance, she has certainly everything in the right place to succeed. I was in doubt whether to open Ginny's eyes to the possible danger as I believe she hang around with them time to time but then I desisted; she may have been tipped off by it and I don't want the girl to spill the beans.
Anyway, I just need to revisit one of those evenings to cum as fast and as hard as ever.
Feeling better I get back to the room to pack what I brought with me, not much but still a few things in the hope of staying at least two or three days. While I stuff everything in my bag, I remember about wanting to get Rose a present. I must go downtown before to get back. I'm sure to be safe getting a book but I don't want her to be always reading, she doesn't do anything else all day long already. She really got from her mother… That's probably why I'm so fond of her.
I'll take her something nice to wear… But then, as second thought perhaps better not. She is starting to be a lot like her mother in body too…
That's why I'm so concerned.
She is too young to have any boys hanging around her. I won't allow any contact if I can avoid it until she is at least twenty-five and then we will see.
For the moment she doesn't seem too interested in the other sex thankfully; she still spends all her time with Albus.
I bring my bag in the living room and I shove it in a corner mutinously, sitting then at the table. Hermione's head is buried in a newspaper. On the cover there is a picture of the escaped prisoner smirking.
When she sees me sitting down, she sends me a hesitant glance. She surely feels guilty to have refused me twice in a row and rightly at that.
'If you want to eat something there is some bread. I got it this morning from the bakery around the corner. It's nice'
She is always a degree nicer when she refuses me. At least.
'I wouldn't know.' I answer with a bit of resentment 'With Hugo waiting for us and everything, I'm not sure it's a good idea to linger just to eat. It's only three or four hours to get back after all.' I reply sour going nevertheless looking for the bread.
Hermione pretends not to have heard and plunges herself in the reading again.
I make myself a sandwich with what I find, and I sit in front of her chewing lazily. Outside there is a blinding sun and I really regret not to have time to go to the beach at least for a couple of hours.
'Can you believe the Death Eater had been missing for more than twelve hours before they realised he was gone?'
Hermione's voice come from behind the newspaper where this supposed Death Eater is sniggering malevolently.
'Obviously they kept it quiet. Can you imagine the uproar? I managed to speak with Richard this morning and he told me'
I murmur a vague sound not very interested, and I keep looking outside the window at the people on the beach who, unlike me, are enjoying their day.
'Are you listening to me?' Hermione snaps seeing my absent demeanour 'Ron, this is very serious!'
I roll my eyes annoyed 'Jesus Christ, I'm listening. They'll catch it soon, don't worry'
'Actually, I don't think so. Twelve hours is an awful long window of time. If he is any clever, he may be anywhere by now'
'Is there anything to drink?' this sandwich made me thirsty.
Hermione snorts, turns the page of her newspaper and doesn't answer me.
I go and have look. There is nothing in here. She could actually have bought something knowing I was coming!
'I tried to call Harry' her voice come to me from the other room. I repay her former silence with the same.
'I couldn't find him anywhere' she continues pressing on for an answer.
'Surely, he is sleeping. What time is in England now?' I mumble pouring me some water and getting back to the living room trying to repress the irritation I always feel when Harry's name is mentioned by her.
'Ron, surely he is not sleeping with a Death Eater at large!'
I don't like her tone; it seems to imply a rebuke for my ten hours sleep. I let slip a snide remark in response.
'Thank god we have our Harry who stays awake to allow us a peaceful sleep'
This time is her who doesn't like my tone.
'Are you ready or not?' she presses on huffily folding the newspaper and putting it aside.
'I am but I want to go to get a present for Rose first'
'You spoil her too much. We didn't get anything for Hugo'
'I spoil her as much as I want, and I'll get something for him too'
She has got this thing that I spoil her, which is not true. Rose is simply far, and I never get to see her. The only thing I can do is to send her letters and presents. I know she gets a hard time at Hogwarts because of me. A present, time to time, is the minimum I can do. She is my baby after all.
'Ok, be quick though. And go over to Ginny. Since Harry is not coming, she may want to come back with us up to Europe. In the meanwhile, I'll try to contact Elisabeth to check if she knows anything new'
I absolutely disagree with Harry having left Ginny here by herself. He was the only one missing and she spent half of the day trying to justify his absence. He has got this work-fever like Hermione does making all of us look like fools who loll about happy go lucky while they are the important ones saving our necks any other day.
I'll talk to Ginny, maybe she can persuade Hermione to stay here at least for the day, she seemed quite chill out yesterday, not too worried about the breakout.
Perhaps she will even want to accompany me downtown.
I knock at the door, but I don't get any answer. Odd. Perhaps she is still sleeping. I try a second time and two seconds later I find myself face to face with Harry.
'Oh, hi' I say surprised to see him there 'I didn't know you were here. When did you arrive?'
'Few hours ago' he says with a smile, and I'm baffled of actually having received an answer. It's the first time he addresses me in almost three years. Let alone the smile! He, unlike me, must have had some.
'And the Death Eater?'
'Got him' he says quite smug.
'Why don't you come in?' he adds his lips buckling into a huge beam 'Just getting a coffee with Ginny, you can join us. I'm sure she'll be pleased'
What the fuck?! The Harry I know would have slammed the door on my face and now he is inviting me inside for a coffee?! Has he gone mad? I don't know why but I feel a hint of fear running up to my spine. This is dodgy. He finally decided to take revenge and he is going to kill me and dismember my body if I step inside. Or maybe Ginny brainwashed him once and for all… Most probably actually…
I find myself speechless trying to understand the meaning of it all while, suddenly, behind me I hear Hermione shouting at the top of her lungs my name frantically. I turn and she is running at full speed toward me, in her house attire, she didn't even wear her shoes. Although, seeing Harry she flinches visibly and stops short by my side slightly panting, looking at him transfixed.
'What's wrong?' I ask but she doesn't seem to hear me, as usual when Harry is involved. At least now we know she won't be in such a rush to get back.
'Hi Hermione' he says with a shrewd smile I don't like at all.
'Harry…' she stammers evidently confused 'Are you ok? Is it everything fine?'
'Yeah. Just got here. Why don't you come inside for a coffee too? I was just inviting Ronald…'
Ronald? What the?He must be totally pissed! He never and ever called me that! Nobody does apart from mum when she is mad. And as I am formulating this thought that would have prevented me to hear the rest, the rest has not time to arrive. A flash of green light spurs abruptly from Hermione's wand hitting Harry square in the chest.