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Chapter 9

The next week was the longest and hardest of Ron's life, and that was saying something, considering he had spent months alone and miserable when he'd left the tent all those nights ago and been unable to return.

This time, however, he had his friends and family around him, and yet he missed Hermione more than he ever had before. He felt rather stupid, really, feeling so strongly, but he supposed the difference this time was that he knew how she felt about him, which made her absence so much more unbearable.

Hermione had not written to him in her week away but had made contact with the Ministry to update on her situation. Percy had passed on the information. She'd located her parents, but the last they'd heard (two days ago), she'd been unable to reverse the memory charm she'd placed on them. Not because she couldn't, but because she was having difficulty in gaining her parents' trust to let her get close enough to perform it.

Ron couldn't imagine being in her shoes. He knew how much her parents meant to her and how hard it had been to erase their memories to begin with. He didn't want to think about what would happen if she couldn't get to them.

One thing that Hermione's absence was good for, though, was connecting once again with George. Ron had been so caught up with Hermione and his own grief that he had not made the effort he perhaps should have to check in with his brother. George's mood fluctuated greatly from day to day — hour to hour, really — which meant that his presence at the Burrow was sporadic, and he was prone to simply getting up and leaving when things got too much. As much as he wished to, Ron had been too afraid to say anything more than a hello to his brother out of fear of upsetting him.

But during his week before Auror training, and with a lot of time on his hands, Ron had made the decision that it was time. No one else had been successful in getting through to George, but Ron hoped that maybe he could.

It was a good start when George answered the door to his flat with a smile on his face.

"Hey!" he said.

"Hey," Ron replied. "Mind if I come in?"

George stepped aside and allowed Ron to pass. Ron immediately knew that his brother had left all pretence of joy at the door. With a sinking heart, he turned to George and said, "Mate, you really need to —"

"Yeah, yeah, I know." George sighed, using his wand to push aside a pile of clothes on an armchair so Ron could sit.

"If Mum saw how you're living…" Ron continued, looking uneasily around at the piles of washed and unwashed clothes, dirty dishes; bits of food scraps that had fallen to the floor, seemingly weeks ago, gave off an unpleasant smell. Ron wasn't tidy and organised most days, but even he felt the urge to take out his wand and offer his assistance.

"Don't tell her!" George said. "I don't need that right now. It's… well, it's how we left it before we were called away to fight, you know. I've just… added to it." He sat on the second armchair, not bothering to push anything aside. "So, how have you been?"

Ron nodded. "Alright, I suppose. I start Auror training on Monday."

"Bill mentioned that," George said, giving another wide smile. "Fancy that. My little brother, an Auror. Never been prouder."

Despite himself, Ron grinned. "Yeah, I mean, I've always kind of wanted to… but I never really believed… it'll be fun, I reckon. How have you been?"

"Speaking of what you've always wanted," George said, as if Ron hadn't said anything, "I have not had the chance to tell you how relieved I am that you and Hermione finally sorted yourselves out." He paused, thoughtful, and when he spoke again, his voice took on a tone that resembled humour, but was like he couldn't bring himself to actually laugh. "Fred and I, we had a plan: if one of you hadn't made a move by the end of your seventh year, we were going to lock you in a broom cupboard together until something happened. Glad we didn't have to eventuate to that."

Ron flinched at the mention of Fred's name. He could barely stand the look that flashed across George's face, and turned towards the growing pile of dishes accumulating in the kitchen. "Yeah, well, she's gone for the moment."

"And I hear you've been moping around like a lovesick puppy because of it."

"I have not!" Ron scowled. "Who told you that? Ginny, I bet. I just miss her. Things finally happen, and then she goes away…"

George grinned, and this time it seemed genuine. "She'll be back. Are you in love with her? Actually, that's a stupid question, of course you are."

Ron smiled. This was the George he remembered.

For a while, they talked about other things, but eventually the topic couldn't be avoided anymore. It wasn't the main reason he'd come, but it was something Harry and Ginny had suggested he bring up while he was there. After exhausting all other conversation points, Ron said, "Have you, er, had time to think about the joke shop? Things are starting to open again, and I thought —"

George's expression darkened. "No. I haven't. I won't be."

Ron stared at him for a moment, but decided to plough on regardless. "Come on, mate, you say that now, but maybe in a few months, when you're feeling better. When things have —"

"I said no," George said, and he stood up. "I think you should go."

Ron also got to his feet, staring at his brother, shocked by George's sudden mood change. "I didn't mean to… we all miss him, you know."

But George said no more, and Ron left the flat feeling rather defeated.

"By the look on your face, it went wonderfully," Harry said when he returned home a few moments later.

"He was alright until I brought up the shop," Ron groaned, collapsing into a chair at the kitchen table opposite Harry. "Maybe I suggested it too soon. Perhaps I should have warmed him up a bit more."

"Not sure it would have made a difference based on what Bill said the other day," Harry said comfortingly. "But that's okay. He'll come around eventually."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I hope so. Because he did say he never planned on opening it again, and… I don't know if that will be good for anyone, if he means it."

"He doesn't mean it," Harry said.

Ron shrugged. He hoped George didn't.

"Listen," Harry said, and he looked around the room as if looking for eavesdroppers. Ron wondered if he was looking out for Ginny. "I've been thinking… it's a bit crowded here at the moment. Too many people —"

"Less than usual," Ron said, eyeing Harry suspiciously. He didn't like where this was going.

"Well, I just think that I may have outstayed my welcome."

"Never!" Ron said. "You're not planning on taking off again, are you? Because —"

"No, not taking off, but moving out as such," Harry said. "Into my own place, have my own space… everyone would be welcome, of course, but it'd be mine."

"Where to?" Ron asked.

"Grimmauld Place," Harry said, shrugging. "It's mine, isn't it? May as well make use of it." He shrugged again. "You don't think… your mum will mind, do you?"

"Well, yeah, probably," Ron said. "But she doesn't really have a choice, does she?" A thought then popped into his head. "Hey, how would you feel about having a housemate?"

"You mean you?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded. "Er, if you don't mind? I can't stay here forever, and when Hermione comes back, she'll probably move back in with her parents, so I'll appreciate the company of someone who isn't my parents."

Harry grinned. "I didn't plan on it, but now that you mention it, it seems like a fantastic idea. Not sure why I didn't think of it!"

Ron returned his grin. "Great! When are you planning on moving?"

"This weekend," Harry said. "Think you can pack in a few days?"

Ron patted his pocket where his wand was. "No problem! This will be fun, won't it? You and me, living together. Will be like the good old days at Hogwarts."

"What will be?" Arthur had just entered the kitchen, home from work by mid-afternoon. It wasn't the first time. His office was quieter than usual, and he'd often made comments about retiring, because he didn't seem needed anymore.

"Oh…" Ron looked at his dad. "Harry and I… we'll be moving out of here in a few days. To Grimmauld Place."

"Ah!" Arthur smiled. "That sounds like a very good idea, actually. Though, to Grimmauld Place?" He looked between them, rather alarmed. "I would have thought —"

"I already own it, don't I?' Harry said. "I know it's not the most welcoming of places, but Sirius left it for me, and… we can decorate it."

"And get used to living with screaming portraits…" Ron added, feeling slightly dejected now that he remembered the portrait of Sirius' mother.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, that too."

Arthur smiled again. "Well, sounds like a good idea, boys. Though, I do suggest you tell your mother, Ron. Sooner, rather than later. No more secrets, remember."

"Oh… yeah," Ron said, his mood falling even more.

"Cheer up, mate," Harry said. "It's not like she'd be expecting you to live here forever. You were always going to move out eventually. So why not now?"

"Yeah, I guess." Though, Ron couldn't help the wave of guilt he felt about telling his mother. She'd be sad to see him go, but it was the right call now that he thought about it. As much as he loved the Burrow — it had been his home his whole life — he was of age, and he had to start making a life for himself somehow. Soon, he'd have his own money, and he'd spent most of his last seven years living with Harry and it had been simple. Granted, they'd never had to buy food for themselves before, but that couldn't be too hard, surely.

"Should be fun," Harry said, disrupting Ron's thoughts. "You and me, then when they want to, Hermione and Ginny… I'm looking forward to it."

When Harry put it like that, so was Ron. When Hermione came back, there'd be less hiding when it was just Harry around. He wouldn't be eying them suspiciously, wondering just what had occurred between them. Nor would Ron have to feel uncomfortable about it either. Harry would be cool about it.

"Now to tell Mum," Ron muttered.

…

Oddly, breaking the news that he was leaving home in a few days didn't seem to bother Molly nearly as much as Ron thought it might have. In fact, she was rather unperturbed when he told her that it momentarily left Ron speechless. He'd planned a whole defence as to why he needed to, which he now didn't have to use, and he had no idea what to say to her.

"I will be sad, of course," Molly said. "And the two of you will be welcome to come round for dinner whenever you feel like it. But I understand that you wish for your own space. All my children said the same thing at your age, and I know I haven't been the easiest to live with at the moment."

"It's not that, Mum, it's… er… we'll come 'round as much as we can," Ron promised, looking at an equally perplexed Harry. "Promise. No idea how to cook. You, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "No idea at all."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "The two of you are hopeless. Don't worry, Mum, they'll be crawling back here once their food runs out."

Ginny had not taken the news that Harry was leaving once again very well. Despite Harry and Ron's assurances that she was welcome at Grimmauld Place as often as she wanted, she'd been annoyed that Harry hadn't consulted her once again.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," Ron said to her when she expressed her frustration at Harry's evasiveness, "Hermione doesn't even know at all yet."

That had not cheered her up at all. "Not the same," she scowled. "Honestly, I always thought you were the most useless with women, but Harry is very much proving me wrong at the moment. At least you can admit your feelings towards Hermione. At least she knows how you feel about her."

Ron said nothing, for talking about Harry and Ginny's relationship still made him uncomfortable. After a moment, he patted her on the back. "He loves you," he assured her. "He's just…"

"Harry," Ginny sighed. And she walked away.

Ron watched her for a moment, seeing how dejected she seemed, and decided that he needed to get past his own discomfort and talk to Harry about his sister. This couldn't keep going on.

Ron still didn't know where their relationship stood, and it seemed that Ginny didn't either. He understood that Harry was going through a lot, but for the most part, he was his normal self around Ron again, so it was no longer an excuse to be different with Ginny. She'd spent some time with him at Grimmauld Place alone, which now bothered Ron. What was Harry doing?

The opportunity to confront Harry arose that same night, when Harry came into his room just after Ron had decided to go to bed.

"Mind if I sleep in here?" he asked, drawing the camp bed he'd spent many nights in, in the past, out from the corner.

Ron stared at him. "Why?"

Harry flushed. "Ginny… kicked me out."

"Why?" Ron asked again, keeping his tone even.

Harry shrugged. "Something about not talking to her about deciding to leave… apparently I was supposed to... I dunno."

Ron was no expert in relationships, and he'd freely admit that to anyone who'd ask, but even he had to admit that Harry was more clueless than he was. There was the whole Cho incident a few years ago where he just hadn't got it, and now this.

Ron sat up in his bed, and, summoning the bit of Molly Weasly that was in him, looked at Harry so sternly that Harry sat up immediately on the camp bed and asked, "What?"

"Is she your girlfriend?"

Seemingly startled by Ron's tone, Harry stammered. "I… well… I think so."

"Why don't you know?" Ron asked.

"Well, we haven't really discussed it really. There's not really been a good time —"

"But you've slept with her, haven't you?" Ron asked, feeling his face go red at just asking about his sister in that position. "And you've spent nights with her, acted like she's your girlfriend, haven't you?"

Harry said nothing, staring at Ron with a rather bewildered expression. Apparently he'd expected to come to Ron's room to perhaps have a laugh at how ridiculous Ginny was being.

"I don't know much, but one thing I have learnt," Ron said when Harry didn't respond, "is you've got to talk to her. Is she your girlfriend, or just a fling, or what?" he asked again.

"She's my girlfriend," Harry said more confidently this time. He looked away from Ron. "But I suppose I've not been the best boyfriend."

Ron watched him for a moment and then said, "Did you ever read that book I gave you?"

"Didn't really have the time with all the Horcrux hunting," Harry said.

Ron scowled at the tone. "Well, you should. It's really quite useful. It has lots of answers, one being you've got to talk to her. You've got to let her know you care." Ron sighed. He really didn't want to ask, but Harry hadn't denied that they'd had sex, so what difference did it make now? "Do you love her?"

"Yes."

Ron liked Harry's definitive answer. He nodded. "Then tell her."

"But… how?" Harry stared blankly at Ron.

"Say the words."

"But… how? I love her, but my mind at the moment is… still not great, and if I tell her, and something goes wrong, then she's once again left out —"

"Well…" Ron said thoughtfully, "she's my little sister, but she's still capable of looking after herself. She wants to be with you, and she loves you — you know that — so let her decide. Just tell her how you feel and she can decide."

"Who said it first — you or Hermione?" Harry asked.

Ron flushed. "Hermione, but —"

Harry snorted. "Nice advice, mate."

Ron glowered, still not satisfied that Harry wasn't taking this seriously. "You've just got to stop messing my sister around, alright? She's upset and confused, and she just wants to know where she stands with you. One moment you're there, then the next, you're not. Ignore my advice if you want — Merlin knows I'm no expert — but don't do what I did. Don't leave it for seven years. Sort it out now."

Harry stared at Ron for a moment and then nodded. "Alright. Fine. I just don't know how to go about it."

"Tell her how you feel."

Harry nodded again. "Okay. Tomorrow. I'll tell her tomorrow. I love you. I can say those words, can't I?"

"Sure you can," Ron said. "You just did."

"Hm. Girls. Women. Why do they have to be so complicated? I thought I would have figured it out by now… you seem to have."

Ron didn't have an answer for that. Once upon a time, he'd asked the very same question to himself. But now, Harry was right, he had figured it out.

Somehow.

Harry laid down on the bed; Ron did the same. Then, as a last thought before he drifted to sleep, he said, "It becomes far less complicated once you establish where you stand with one another. Trust me on that one, too. It took me seven bloody years to figure that out."

I'm so glad to hear that all of you are enjoying this story and your comments have been really encouraging and nice to read! Thank you so much! And for those of you who follow the Instagram - thank you for interacting with that. I'm having fun running that so the fact that people are interested makes me happy!

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