CH 5
By the time the inn restaurant opened for breakfast, they were showered and had already taken a stroll around the grounds to enjoy the gardens. The innkeeper welcomed them into the dining room and bustled over offering tea and coffee.
"Our guests from Europe are often waiting for us when we open up each morning," she said with a smile. "Especially when only here for a few days it seems hardly worth it to force yourself to try and change your body clock. But, the good thing is that our islands are absolutely amazing in the morning. So many tourists drink so much at night that they miss the natural magic of our islands in the morning."
"Well we've certainly enjoyed it so far," Hermione said, sipping her tea. "Since we only have a few days here, what would you suggest we be sure not to miss?"
Ron looked up to hear her answer as he continued to spoon sugar into his tea, causing the innkeeper to laugh. "Well, it depends what you like to do."
"Well," Hermione said. "We want to have some time to relax, but if there are particular beaches or hikes in certain parks that you recommend, then how about those?"
"Oh, yes, well, everyone loves The Baths. They aren't on this island, but you can easily apperate over to Virgin Gorda. Actually, they are quite popular so going after breakfast might ensure you have a more peaceful time there. It can get crowded after time with tourists that come in on the cruise ships. As long as you time it after they all get back on board their boat, it is perfectly lovely."
"It's a bath?" Ron asked, nose scrunched in confusion.
"No, no," the innkeeper chuckled. "It is a national park that highlights a really unique area of beaches and rock formations. There are caves and all sorts of nooks and crannies to explore with the lovely water maybe waist deep all the way through. And even if you aren't a fan of caves, it isn't like regular underground caves. There are some if you want to seek them out, but its more that there is a labyrinth of alcoves created by these rocks. It is really quite something. The muggle park doesn't open until 10, but there is a magical entrance that is open sunrise to sunset, so you will be able to have much of it to yourself if you go after breakfast."
"That sounds wicked," Ron grinned.
"Quite," laughed Hermione. "Should we take a picnic lunch or is there somewhere there to get food?"
"Well I am happy to pack something if you want, but the food can get soggy carrying through the caves. But there are both muggle and magical restaurants there with lovely views so you can enjoy your morning and then go get out of the sun a bit."
"Sounds perfect. Speckled British gingers aren't known for their ability to be in the sun too long," Ron grimaced.
"Oh don't fuss," Hermione shushed him. "I have plenty of sun potion, and between that, a hat and a t shirt you will be perfectly fine. Pink, probably, but a fine pink," she added with a giggle.
"Thanks, love," he said with an eye roll as the inn keeper laughed and headed back to the kitchen.
She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "So, it's a plan then?"
"Absolutely!"
Within the hour they found themselves at the magical entrance to The Baths. The witch at the ticket counter said that they were the first people there that morning and should have the place to themselves for a few hours. She noted there weren't lifeguards out this early, but that if there was a problem to send up red sparks with their wands and the security wizard would come help. Finally, she demonstrated a charm to place on their feet that would help them not slip on the rocks as they climbed and explored. With that she gave them a map charmed to stay dry and directed them to the lockers where they could leave things they didn't want to take with them. Hermione insisted on keeping her beaded bag with her as always, but she charmed it to be water proof as well.
Decked out with sun shirts and hats over their suits, they made their way along the route indicated on the map. Hermione was busy taking in the view as she felt Ron slip his hand into hers. He just gave her a loving smile, but said nothing. Her heart clenched at the love she felt for him. But it didn't help settle her nerves about some of the difficult things they needed to wade through that weren't gorgeous tidal pools.
They were able to walk hand in hand along the sandy path until they came to where the boulders were jutting out into the sea. Following the instructions, they set into the area created by the boulders.
"Holy shite, this is incredible," Ron said as he tilted his head back and turned to take in the scene around him. They were standing in crystal clear water up to Hermione's hips. The sun was coming through the cracks between the boulders and dancing off the water and white sandy bottom, but they were mostly in the shade and protected from the sun.
Hermione was absorbing it as well, her head tilted as well. "Don't swear. And yeah, couldn't agree more."
Ron decided he could see more if he went ahead and floated on his back for a bit, and she quickly joined him. They floated quietly there, hands loosely grasped and heard nothing but wind, waves and the stray call of a bird.
"Perfection," she whispered.
"Really is," he nodded. "Shall we keep going and then pick our favorite spot to float after we've seen them all?"
"Good idea," she grinned as they stood up and continued on the route. They crawled over boulders and shimmied through some crevices to make their way into the different spaces. One looked like a church, one like a ship and others just like the peaceful paradise that it was. At one point Ron was floating peacefully with his eyes closed and then realized Hermione was singing softly, letting the sound echo in the hidden cavern around them. He quietly sat up, slightly gobsmacked listening to her. It was beautiful, and he couldn't ever really remember hearing her sing anything other than Happy Birthday or a Christmas carol before. She seemed lost in the moment, eyes closed, enjoying the sound resonating around the chamber. He didn't know the song, but it had to be an older religious hymn of some kind he thought. As she finished singing, she stood there perfectly still letting the last of the echoes wisp away until she finally opened her eyes.
The blush on her face as she caught him staring at her made it evident she had momentarily forgotten he was there.
"Sorry," she said, looking down, "just had to hear the sound echo."
With his jaw still slightly slacked in awe he made his way over to her. "How is it possible that I didn't know you could sing like that?"
"Oh I can't really sing, it's just the acoustics in here are amazing."
"Hermione, you can too sing, I just heard you. I didn't just forget you being in the school choir or something, did I? I mean I know I was a bit dense back in our Hogwarts days, but I really don't remember you singing."
"No, I didn't join the choir in school. I didn't, well..."
"You didn't want to miss the chance to take more classes and be in the library," he added knowingly.
"Right. And in the later years you can add on keep Harry alive. Should have been its own extra-curricular club, you know. We could have been in the yearbook and everything. Co-Presidents of the 'Don't Let Voldemort Kill Harry' Club, official Hogwarts branch."
"Right," he chuckled. "Problem was we were too busy actually doing that to make a club about it, weren't we?"
"Yes. But I could have made buttons, I suppose."
"Like S.P.E.W?"
"Hey, you said it right!"
"Well, of course, first time you kissed me was after I mentioned something about elfin welfare, so of course I am a big fan," he chortled.
She laughed and turned to walk to the next part of The Baths, but he reached for her hand and pulled her back towards him.
"Let's get back to the other point – how is it you can sing like an angel and I didn't know it?"
"I don't sing like an angel," she protested.
He rolled his eyes at her, "I just heard you not two minutes ago! It was beautiful, but I've never heard you sing like that – not even in the shower or anything."
"Well, when we are in the shower together I am most assuredly too distracted to be singing," she teased.
Not to be dismissed, Ron tried again. "Well, I am glad I got to hear it, wherever you learned to sing like that. And, I hope I don't have to wait another decade to hear it again."
She blushed and looked down, and finally looked up and caught his eyes. "I've actually always loved it," she finally admitted. "And I never learned, so to speak, it was just something I could do. When I was little I sort of thought about it the same way I would think about what I now know is my magic. It was there. It was different than other kids, but I could always do it, and it was like a special little treasure I could take out by myself and enjoy."
"But, I understand why you hid your magic from others, but why hide singing?"
She shrugged and started walking slowly, so he followed. "No good reason, I suppose. They were both secrets for so long in my mind, that when I realized one didn't need to be a secret anymore it was kind of protecting on last secret piece I could keep to myself."
"So, you sing when I'm not home?"
"Sometimes," she admitted. "I don't do it often anymore. It's peaceful, relaxing really. Calms me sometimes."
"Did you sing at school? Not in a choir, I mean, but for yourself?"
She nodded. "The first few years I would find abandoned classrooms in the evening and sing, or in old musty hallways because the acoustics were so amazing. Professor Flitwick caught me one time third year and pestered me terribly to join the choir, but I told him I couldn't possibly add one more thing to my plate."
"Right," he snorted, "seeing as you already needed a bloody time turner to try and handle what you already were signed up for! You know, I am still quite upset at Dumbledore and McGonagall for letting you do that. So dangerous, and for someone just 13 years old it was mad."
"Well, I was practically 14 when school started."
"Oh yes, much better. You still nearly had a nervous breakdown."
"Well, anyway, after Flitwick caught me I never sang in the corridors anymore. But once we found the Room of Requirement I was able to sing in there. Actually," she beamed thinking of a particular memory, "the room created some amazing places for me to sing – concert halls, old monasteries with perfectly curved walls for the sound. It was definitely a place of renewal for me during those difficult stretches."
"Wow. I can't believe I never knew. I spent so much time secretly studying you back then you'd think I would have caught you."
"Well, I would always look like I was going to study, and I often went when you were playing quidditch. Not to mention," she smirked, "I was spending quite a bit of time secretly studying you as well."
He turned to beam at her. "Touche," he said as he kissed her cheek. Then he added, "I do hope you'll let me hear you again at some point. But, even if you don't I hope you take the time to sing more. If it calms you and makes you happy, it seems like a great plan."
"Maybe," she shrugged. "One of those things where I just do it when the inspiration hits, like in a place like this."
"I get that," he said as they sloshed through a particularly narrow area and then scrambled up over another rock to get to another area.
"So, now you know my little secret," she said as she jumped down off the rock into the clear water. "Do you have one? Or one you want to share?"
"Do I have a what?"
"A secret thing that you've just kept to yourself all these years. Something even Harry and I don't know?"
"Does Harry know you sing?"
"No, I don't think he does," she said, pondering the question and smirking at the smile he tried to suppress.
"Oh come on, not that again," she laughed.
"No, not that again. I just like knowing these secret parts of you, that's all. Makes me feel special or something."
"Well, you are special. And you've definitely had access to parts no one else has," she teased as she gestured down her front.
"And for the record, I love having such elite access to all those amazing parts, thank you very much," he laughed as he slinked his arms around her waist, rubbing his hand over her bum.
"Cheeky wizard," she laughed as she turned to keep walking. "But, back to my question. Do you have something I don't know? Some hidden talent or secret dream you care to share? Obviously you don't have to share even if you have one, I'm just curious."
"Lemme think a moment," he said as he tried to consider the question. "You already know my talent for consuming three chocolate frogs at once," he said as he wagged his eyebrows.
"Ugh. That was not a memory I needed to recall," she laughed.
"Well, it's a talent."
"So is your ability to crush folks in chess, but that one doesn't make me nauseous. And, of course, it isn't a secret."
"Fair point. It's a good question, and I can't come up with anything at the moment, but I promise to keep pondering."
She smiled at him and they headed up some metal steps into another portion of the rocks where they entered what felt like a private room.
"Don't you wonder what the first people who discovered this place thought? I mean, it's pretty amazing, but we knew where to come and which way to go. But, to just stumble across this place. I can't really imagine that."
"Maybe it felt like stumbling upon the existence of magic," he suggested.
"Certainly must have felt magical," she agreed. "But for me discovering magic was a gift because it explained so much. It made me realize I wasn't crazy – well," she laughed self-deprecatingly, "at least not how I thought I was crazy then. And-"
"You're not crazy, Hermione. Don't say that kind of thing."
She eyed him carefully and then said, "I might not be certifiably crazy, but not even you can deny that the state of my mental health over the past few years has been less than perfect, even if it is improving."
"I just don't like hearing you put yourself down. You're so amazing, which you often don't seem to see or comprehend. And the fact that you are still doing incredible things after all you've been through – after what we've both been through – well, it's incredible. And anyone who was actually crazy wouldn't have made it. Just shows me how strong your mind was to start that it can even function let alone thrive as I see it doing."
"Thank you," she said as she reached to take his hand and squeeze it. "I guess I should have known you would stick up for me even when I wasn't. But, I guess I was using the word crazy to mean different. Before I knew about magic I just felt so unlike everyone else I knew. Things I couldn't explain would happen, and I would know without a doubt that I had somehow caused them and yet didn't know how. So, in the end, I felt so isolated and different that I did wonder if my mind was utterly unlike everyone else."
"And then I came along and made it worse," he said sadly, head hung down.
"Well, for one afternoon, yes, you did make it worse. But then you and Harry both did what not one single person had ever done for me before. You not only came to check on me, but you saved my life and then tried to take the blame. I don't think you can really comprehend how much it meant to me to have actual friends for the first time in my life. I was so, so alone then. And I know I came on strong back then, but that was because I was trying to be the perfect friend. I was going to do anything not to lose the first friends I had ever had."
He chuckled. "Well, I am guessing at the time you hadn't really considered that 'anything' would include three headed dogs, psychopathic dark wizards, horcruxes or Azkaban-escaped convicts."
"True," she said. "But I also never considered that I not only had found friends to sit with and talk to and help, but the one person in the whole world who I would fall in love with. I couldn't have even dreamed that back then."
"Me either," he conceded. "But I am thankful."
"Me too," she said as she closed the space between them and kissed him deeply. His arms wrapped tightly around her and he held her tightly to him.
As they stood in the maze of rock rooms in the crystal Caribbean waters they started to hear distant voices.
"Sounds like our private experience at The Baths is over," she said sadly.
"That it does. What if we keep making our way out, lounge on the beach a while and then head up to that restaurant at the top of the hill that smells so good."
"Sounds brilliant," she smiled.
A few hours later, a very relaxed Hermione and a relaxed though slightly sunburned Ron found a table in the shade on the patio at the restaurant. They let the breeze off the water dry them off and blow off any lingering sand they'd brought with them from the beach. They both decided to be adventuresome and try some local favorites, so a conch salad and a fried conch sandwich were ordered along with drinks, chips and a large fruit salad for them to share.
Hermione leaned back in her chair, closed her eyes and took a long gaze soaking in the view. "I know we've been here less than 24 hours, but I feel both the most relaxed I have felt in, well, maybe ever. And, I feel like I have gotten to spend more real time with you than I have in months, maybe longer. Thanks for making it happen."
"I feel the same," he said as he placed his hand over hers and squeezed it gently. "I'm just sorry things had to get so tense to make it happen. And I'm sorry I said those things at George's party."
She looked at him with a resigned smile. "So are we doing this now?"
"No sense putting it off," he shrugged. "And I am kinda ready to be on the other side of the conversation. Aren't you?"
"Yes," she admitted. "I am, but I am also really nervous that I will say something the wrong way or not explain something clearly and that you'll get the wrong idea of how I really feel. I love you so much and don't want to hurt you or say anything that would make you think otherwise. And, my track record at explaining things in these kind of conversations isn't so great."
"Neither is mine," he said, looking down at his feet and pretending to focus on dusting off the sand. "But, until we jump in and get it over with, we're both just worrying about it, yeah?"
She nodded, and was grateful for the interruption offered by the waitress bringing their drinks.
"So, ok," she said with a deep breath. "At the party you made some comments that concerned me. And, really it's not so much about those comments as much as its about what I worry – what I've been worrying about for a while now, honestly – what I worry is simmering underneath. And I feel like unless we deal with it, it will get worse for both of us and we could unintentionally hurt each other."
He looked at her, slightly confused, but used to needing additional explanation from his witch. "Not sure I followed all of that completely, wanna keep talking for a minute 'til I catch up?"
She sighed, trying very hard not to let it sound like the huff her 13 year old self would have done. "It's not catching up. There are only two of us here, if we aren't in the same place it's not that one is behind and one is ahead, it's just that we aren't together. I guess I was trying to say I have noticed some things, some behaviors I guess, and I've worried that they meant some things, and then when you made those comments at the party, it signaled to me that maybe I was right to worry. And it isn't as much about what you do but more about why you do them. I don't want you to resent things – or more importantly, I don't want you to resent someone."
"I don't resent you, Hermione. I love you."
"I know. I know. I do. And I think we should just acknowledge for this conversation that we both love each other. I really don't think either of us have any doubts around that, right?"
"Right. OK."
"But, I am worried that if you don't take some time to intentionally put yourself first again that you will eventually grow to resent me or George or whoever else you have put in front of yourself. And I worry because I want to be with you for the rest of my life, and while I know you say you don't resent me now, I am very concerned that if we stay on the current trajectory that we could end up in a very unhappy marriage, and I don't want that."
He stared at her for a bit, trying to take in what she was saying but not totally on track with all of it. She looked at him with worry clearly painted across her forehead, but he wasn't sure how to handle it.
Unable to sit out the silence any longer, Hermione tried again, "I don't – is it that you disagree or am I not explaining things well enough to communicate my concern or is this a completely different conversation than the one you thought we needed to have?"
"Uh, dunno. Maybe the last two? Or I don't know. I, well, I just know that things have shifted at home. We aren't who we used to be. The war changed both of us. A lot. And I look at my life now and it is really different than I ever expected it to be, but it isn't all different in a bad way. Some of it is better than I could have ever dreamed. And some of it is so much harder than I ever thought. And maybe that's the war, or maybe it's being adults, or maybe it's just me. But I don't resent you. I worry about you. I am concerned sometimes about decisions – but then often I am proven wrong, which of course isn't different than before the war," he laughed, trying to lighten the tension.
"Ok, well, let's start with that. Because I could say the same thing I guess. I don't resent you. I worry about you, and again sometimes I am concerned about your decisions, which just like earlier in our lives, prove often to be the right ones after all."
He crinkled his face in confusion, and again was glad to see the muggle waitress approaching with a tray full of food and refills for their drinks. They both took advantage of the break to make some small talk about the food, try the different types of conch and re-settle into the difficult conversation.
"Yano," Ron mumbled, mouth still full.
"Can you PLEASE try to not talk with your mouth full, at least on vacation? Please?"
"Isn't it comforting to know that some things are the exact same as they were before the war?" he teased, kissing her cheek. She rolled her eyes as he chuckled and continued talking. "What I was trying to say was that maybe this would be easier if we didn't try to stay talking about hypothetical phrases and just got down to the specific things we're worried about."
She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Why? Why is that bad?" he asked.
She shrugged and said, "well, then, you first. What is it I am doing that you don't like?"
Oh, he thought. That's why it's bad. Shite. Why had he opened his big mouth?
"Uh, well, it's not..." he stammered as his ears turned a deeper shade of red.
She laughed at his struggle and patted his hand. "Relax, it's not that bad. I was just trying to show that it is hard to dish out the specifics at each other. Doesn't mean we shouldn't do it, just means it's tough."
"Yeah, I see that," he said, sipping his drink in an attempt to stall.
"OK, I'll be the bad guy first then. Let's start with our conversation at the party since it was more about you and George than you and I, at least the first part anyway. I don't recall your exact words, but in the moment what it felt like I heard you say was that you were tired of being the adult, exhausted from working so much and a little bitter that you'd more or less put your life on hold to pull George back together. Not that you said that, mind you, but it was certainly the feeling I was getting from it. And, I got upset, which I think you understood too, because I immediately jumped from that to you being bitter that you had to put your life on hold to keep me together. And I know you didn't say that and it was a lot of jumping and assumptions on my part, but that's what I left the conversation with. Am I totally off?"
He sighed and for once made a point to chew slowly and not start talking until every speck of food in his mouth had been chewed, swallowed and washed down with a drink.
He winked, "Didn't wanna talk with my mouth full."
"Uh huh," she deadpanned. "More like stalling for every possible second. I have known you for almost half of your life, you know?"
"Oh I know," he teased. "OK, but seriously, I was exhausted the night of the party. And I don't recall exactly what I said either. But I know between the work exhaustion and worry over George that night I was more than testy, and I'm sorry about that. But I also know that none of this was forced on me. I could have gone to the Auror Academy with Harry. Or I could have gone back to school. But I didn't choose those things. And I don't regret my choice for one minute. I chose to focus on something other than chasing dark magic for the first time in my life since meeting Harry. And even if Fred had lived or if George had been healthier or you had been healthier or my parents had been healthier, I still wasn't ready to go chase dark witches and wizards."
"OK," she nodded. "But, choosing to stay and help get Wheezes back open is different than suddenly being the one person that every single relative and friend relied on for everything for years."
"Well, that's a bit of an overstatement."
"I don't think so. You brought me back to the land of living multiple times. It wasn't fair to be on you, but I am grateful it was you. And that happened with George too. And then having to do everything on top of all of that – well, I worry that not only are you working yourself into the ground physically but that you are losing yourself in the exhaustion. I don't want you to lose sight of living your life and chasing your dreams too. Because that is what dims the light I see in those amazing blue eyes of yours, and I can't handle that, Ron. I love you too much to lose you to the chaos of life."
For the first time he was beginning to understand what she was saying, and he was both aggravated and touched. Aggravated that he seemed to be in trouble for doing the right thing, and amazed that she cared enough to fight for him.
"I was a lazy git for a long time. Remember me telling you about how that night I discovered I'd lost you and Harry that I realized how I wanted to be different? Well, since the war, for the first time in my life I was in a position to be the one giving and supporting and leading instead of the one taking and whining and slowing things down."
"But there is a difference between being that man you want to be and working yourself to the ground so much that you are miserable."
"I feel like I have years to make up for, Hermione. I've nowhere near made up for everything."
"It's not penance, Ron. You don't owe anyone anything – there is nothing to make up for. You weren't evil. You weren't bad. You were a little boy, and then a teenage boy who was just trying to make his way in a very difficult situation. And you don't need to make up for that any more than I need to make up for being a swotty know-it-all in school. It's just who we were. We were doing the best we could. And we've both grown from it, but we don't have to repay some debt to the universe."
"I guess I don't agree that it's the same, really. But, even if I did – what would you have me do? Not work? Not keep the business open? I couldn't live with myself if I let it fold. Just like I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you when there was anything I could have done about it."
"Ok – there it is – that's the problem. I think you are trying to own the burden of carrying everything or bearing the guilt of not fixing things that aren't yours to solve. It's not that the problems aren't important or that the issues don't need to be solved by someone, but I am not convinced you are the one who has to carry them all."
"Huh. Well, after the war when we all ended up at The Burrow, it just seemed like that there was stuff that needed doing, and for the first time in my life I just stepped up and did it. And it felt good to do it – good to know I was doing the right thing and people were depending on me and I was finally helping them instead of the other way around."
"Right – and we did, or at least I did, depend on you. But at some point everyone has to stand on their own two feet, right- me, George, all of us? You can't just carry both of us, or even just me, forever."
"I would, you know. If you needed me to."
"I know you would. And I would do the same if you needed me to. BUT, I think maybe you aren't seeing where you no longer need to do it. George isn't on the verge of suicide and financial ruin. I am not on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Doesn't mean I won't screw up. Doesn't mean George won't screw up, but at some point we have to learn to fall down so that we can learn to get back up again."
"So, if I get what you're saying – you are concerned that I don't let you and George fall down enough?"
"Yes."
"You are concerned that I am too helpful?" he said, sarcasm and doubt dropping in his words.
"Well, more or less, yes. But its two fold, George and I need to learn to fall down and get up on our own more. But you also need to be able to live your own life and pursue your own dreams more. And you can't do that if you are hovering over George and me protecting us from every bump or bruise."
"You think I hover?" he asked, clearly hurt by her words.
"See, this is where I was worried I would say something wrong and hurt you by mistake, because I don't want to do that at all. You've been everything to me, Ron. You ARE everything," Hermione said, her voice cracking with emotion. "But I can't watch the spark in your eye slowly dim because you've put me first. I can't do that. I want you happy again. I want you to thrive just like you want me to, I think. But it's your turn."
He didn't say anything, just kept eating his sandwich as he tried to wrangle the emotions swirling in his heart, mind and stomach.
"Are you mad at me?" Hermione finally asked after pushing the food around her plate for a while.
He swallowed the bite in his mouth and said, "No, I'm not mad at you. I'm frustrated and aggravated and confused, but I'm not mad."
"Wanna tell me what you are frustrated and aggravated and confused by?"
"Not really," he admitted with a sad chuckle. "But mostly because I haven't figured it out myself. If I am angry about anything it's that we have to have this situation at all. Why is it that at our age we are carrying the weight of so many problems? But, what's happened has happened and it's done, and I am just trying to move on with that. But, I am confused because I don't know how to do this partway. I don't know how to help the people I love but only up to a point. I don't know how to say to George, 'yeah, glad you aren't offing yourself, but since you look like you aren't dying tonight I'll just leave your drunk arse here to close up the shop, good luck with that.' And I don't know how to not worry about how much you eat or worry about you when you get quiet or how to not be scared if you aren't home when I thought you'd be," he admitted, his voice now cracking as well. Blinking furiously so he wouldn't cry he added, "I don't know how to only love you a bit, Hermione. I'm all in - that's all I know how to do."
Hermione wiped away a tear on her own face before trying to do the same for him, but he brushed her off.
"I really don't want to start crying like a tit here. And you don't seem to be eating anyway, so can we just go?"
She nodded as they left the muggle money on the table and walked back to the magical entrance where the lockers were.
"I'm sorry," she finally said as they were a few minutes down the path. "I didn't mean to upset you or bring everything up like that."
"No – it was my idea to go ahead and start talking at the restaurant," he said curtly, avoiding eye contact.
Hermione was trying hard to not panic, to not let herself retreat into her mind. She'd gone over this with Becky and had anticipated this type of defensive response from Ron. But it's always easier to deal with theoretical responses instead of the person you love most hurting in front of you. But, she tried to bite her tongue and to not keep poking the bee hive when clearly Ron needed a minute to regroup. They made their way to the lockers and collected their things in silence, and then said a pleasant good bye to the folks at the magical entrance.
"You apperating or me?" Ron asked briskly.
"You, please," she said taking his hand securely.
He nodded, and then they were off, pulled through time and space to land in their hotel room. As soon as they landed, he dropped her hand and turned to put away his things. She watched him, her heart hurting at the pain between them.
"Um, I have an idea," she offered. "Seems like we could use a break from our conversation anyway. Why don't we each do our own thing for a bit. I want to take a shower and then either read or take a nap for a little while anyway. Then we can regroup around tea time and maybe go for a walk before dinner. How does that sound?"
She saw his back still, and then take a deep breath that he slowly released. Finally he turned around and finally caught her eye.
"I think that's brilliant," he said softly. "And definitely nothing either of us would have suggested two years ago. Cheers to Becky, yeah?" he added with a wink.
"Oh yeah," she agreed.
"Possibly my favorite squib ever. Even beats that crazy cat lady Dumbledore had watching out for Harry."
"Couldn't agree more," she grinned. "Do you want to use the loo before I shower?"
"No, I'm good," he said. "I think I may go for a bit of a run. Clear my head some."
Hermione started to remind him about sun potion but caught herself. "Ok. Well, I love you. And I'll see you in a little while."
"I love you too," he said as he bent to kiss her. "And don't worry. I'll put on fresh sun potion and wear a hat," he added with a knowing smirk.
"Thank you! I was trying sooo hard not to say it," she laughed.
He shook his head laughing at her and went to find his trainers and to put on more sun protection as she gathered her things for her shower. He heard her shut the door to the loo, and then he put his head briefly in his hands. But before he let himself get too angsty, he laced up his trainers, threw on a hat and headed out the door.
The woman at the front desk gave him some coordinates to a park that had a nice running trail in the shade with water fountains in several locations. She said it was not all ocean view, but that a large portion of it was. Thanking her, he apperated to the spot she suggested and walked the block to the park entrance.
It was a lovely park, and the trail seemed to wander through a mixture of palm trees and then loop out to an area overlooking the ocean. Taking a deep breath, Ron started jogging and forcing one foot in front of the other. He'd never really liked running per se, but in the past year or so he had begun to really take up the habit. He knew Harry had started running at the Auror Academy and had to still pass regular fitness assessments to keep his position. Since Ginny was playing professionally, she had to run regularly as well, and he had joined the two of them on many an occasion. But he found that when his head was truly getting overloaded with thoughts and emotions that sometimes the best possible thing he could was to just start running and sweat it out.
With each footfall he ran the panic and voices churning in his mind started to slow. And, after half an hour, he couldn't hear either his or Hermione's voices echoing in his mind but could only hear his rhythmic breathing. And every time he started to re-hear the words "hover" float into his mind, he simply increased his pace until he was running so fast he was gasping as he sprinted along the path. When he couldn't keep up the sprint one more step, he finally stopped, bent over, hands on his knees as he tried to get oxygen into his lungs and to prevent his heart from beating so hard it burst open his chest.
He shrugged his shoulder up so he could wipe the sweat from his face as he continued to pant and recover. He caught a glimpse of the water fountain the innkeeper had mentioned and made his way over to it, grateful for the cold, clear liquid bubbling from it. He swallowed it in gulps and then splashed some up on his face, then wiped it again with his shirt.
Thanks to the sprints, the tension and anger that he'd carried in his shoulders and muscles had vanished from his body. It wasn't that he had resolved everything, but he was simply too exhausted to feel the emotions. The only ability his body had after that level of physical exertion was for making his heart beat and his lungs breathe. As his heart beat began to return to normal and his breathing became less labored, he straightened back up and stretched a few minutes. Then he decided to walk down along the overview over the bluff overlooking the ocean. Eventually he saw a bench in the shade where he could sit and cool off in the ocean breeze and still (hopefully) not get burned.
He was still trying to sort out everything Hermione had said. He heard it all, and felt it all, but now he felt like he could finally actually THINK about what she said instead of to just react to it in the midst of his emotions. He'd thought he was coming on this trip to apologize for letting it slip that he was starting to feel a bit bitter towards George. He thought he'd assure her how he felt about George had absolutely no relation to how he felt towards her, and that he didn't and couldn't ever resent her. He also thought they might spend some time talking about his concerns about how much she was drinking. He'd assumed she'd apologize, they might talk about how she could be a little healthier and then they'd spend some quality time together and things would be better. But now...
Hermione was worried about him. And she was feeling both smothered and hovered over by him. Those were the words he and his brothers used to describe his mum! He'd never once thought he was like his mum. Sure, he loved his mum. Admired even. But that didn't mean he needed the woman he loved to think of him the same way she thought of his mum. And he really didn't think he did those things. He didn't shove food at people. Well, ok, he did at Hermione but that was different. She needed to gain weight to be healthy. But he didn't do that to anyone else anymore. Not since his mum had started cooking again after the war. And it wasn't like he went around insisting on a clean house or forcing people to de-gnome the garden.
Yet while he wanted to be defensive or to argue all of the reasons she was wrong, he knew he needed to really absorb what she'd said and try to understand if there was truth at its root. Yes, he'd been the self-appointed grown up figure with both his brother and his girlfriend, but both of them would literally have been dead if he hadn't. And neither of them could see or understand what that felt like. He'd rather they feel smothered than dead. And he would chose that every damn time. Hermione hadn't had to find George lifeless on the floor. And she couldn't have any idea what it was like to find her unconscious and collapsed in the corner of a dungeon when she was kidnapped, not to mention what it was like to have to listen to her be tortured by Bellatrix. He may have taken on Voldemort and even killed a horcrux, but he knew he couldn't face that kind of agony of watching those he loved be so close to death again.
He closed his eyes for a few minutes to let the breeze blow on him while he just listened to the birds. And only once he felt himself totally relaxed did he allow himself to get back up and head back to the inn to get cleaned up. As he opened the door to the hotel room, he walked in to find a note magically charmed to hover in front of the door.
"Ron, I decided to go read outside. I'm not sure exactly where I'll end up, but I'll start on the terrace near the dining room and meander about until I find a good shady spot. Hope you had a great run. Come find me later, and we can explore a bit before dinner. I love you always, H"
Relieved to find Hermione's words so positive, he decided to shower and kip for a bit before finding her.
A couple hours later, a refreshed Ron headed off to find his witch. He started at the terrace as the note had said, but the innkeeper saw him and said he'd seen her headed towards the hammock just down the hill a bit. So, off to the hammock it was.
He grinned when he saw her. If it had been him in the hammock he would either be asleep or watching the waves and clouds. But Hermione, on the other hand, wouldn't be Hermione if she wasn't reading one book while carrying several others. And, true to form, she was sitting back in the hammock, her mad hair twisted in a bun held up by her wand, two books on her lap and a third open in her hands that she was reading with rapt attention.
"Afternoon, love," he said as he approached, not wanting to startle her.
Since the war, all of them had learned to not accidentally sneak up on someone if they didn't want to find themselves at wand point. She still jumped at the noise, but looked up and smiled as she saw him approach.
"Hi, did you have a good run?"
"I did, thanks. But I ran so hard I needed a bit of a kip after my shower."
"Good. So you're probably hungry, huh?"
He laughed and nodded his head in admission. "Well, it's not audible yet, but yeah, I could definitely eat something. And if I don't, I'm sure to be a bear in about half an hour or so."
"Well, we certainly don't want that. Do you want to grab something here or maybe head into town and walk around and grab something there?"
"Let's head to town. I ran in a park earlier and the parts of the town I could see looked cute, but I only saw what was along the running path."
"Town it is," she said as she minimized her books and stashed them in her ever-present beaded bag.
Soon they were wandering along a wobbly looking road with a cobblestone street and brightly colored homes and storefronts. It didn't take them long before Ron sniffed out a small bakery and had purchased some local specialties to hold him over 'til dinner. He "got some for Hermione" to have as well, but they both knew she would only have a nibble. With drinks and pastries in hand, they wandered over to people watch at the local marina where they parked themselves on a park bench in the midst of the action. There were fisherman coming in with their catches, muggle tourists out and about, and even local school children in their smart uniforms heading home for the day.
"Can you imagine what it would have been like to go to school here? Blimey, if I'd had to pass beaches and ice cream shops on the way to and from school I never would have done any homework."
"Unless I'd been there to lecture you about sweets and give you a revision schedule."
"Right," he snickered. "There is that."
"But really, I loved our time at Hogwarts, even if our experience there was rather unusual. I wouldn't have traded it for anything."
"Unusual?" he laughed. "Well, isn't that the understatement of the century? I can't even imagine what we are going to tell our children one day. I mean, I am sure they'll sneak around and cause trouble, but I sure as hell don't want any kid of mine running into the likes of Fluffy or Aragog!"
"Right," Hermione agreed flatly, Ron not missing the sad tone in her voice.
"What? What I'd do?"
"No, you didn't do anything," she said sadly. She then took a moment to gather her thoughts before adding, "I guess it's just that I am not as confident that we will have children at Hogwarts."
"Rubbish," Ron said. "We will. I know we will."
"You sound so confident when you say that."
"S'pose it's because I am confident. Look, you are getting better. I know you're not there yet, but blimey, Hermione. You've come so far! And we're still only 20. In five years if it's still a concern, then we can start looking into adoption or surrogacy or other options. But for now, I just don't see any point in worrying."
Hermione went to say something and found herself biting her lip.
"What?"
She shook her head.
"Oh come on. If we can't talk about this stuff in this ridiculously gorgeous place then we surely can't do it back at home. Spill it."
She looked at him as if carefully considering what she wanted to say. Then she took a deep breath and said, "I guess I worry that there are a lot of things that you are giving up that you say not to worry about that one day you will regret. And whether that is joining the aurors or having biological children, I really, really, really don't want to be the reason you give up two of the biggest dreams in your life. And I know that you say now it's not a problem, and I believe you. I do. I just don't know that I believe you will feel the same fifteen or fifty years from now. And at the party, your comments about George and you not getting to live your own life, well, I just honestly believe you will have one of those moments down the road if you give up on those dreams. And that breaks my heart."
With that she reached her arms around his waist and leaned her face into his chest. She wasn't crying, but Ron knew she was close to it. He moved his arms to hold her tightly to him, almost rocking her as he kissed the top of her head. Feeling that she was trying to manage her breathing he softly rubbed her back.
"It's going to be ok, Hermione."
She just shook her head but didn't pull back. Still with her face against his chest he heard her muffled voice say, "You can't give up your dreams, Ron. It's not right."
"I, I haven't. Not really. You are the only dream that matters. I have you, right now – in my arms. If you'd told me that at 16 I would never have believed you."
He felt her chuckle before she added, "well, you did have Lavender's tongue down your throat at the time."
"Well, yeah, but I was still dreaming of you. But you knew that already. Point is I am happiest with you. You are my dream come true. Everything else is a distant second. Yes, I want to have kids, but I am 100% confident that will happen somehow. And, yeah, I wanted to be an auror. Never really thought it would happen because of my school marks. Still think about Kingsley's offer from time to time, but I just think that maybe the time has passed. And I'm ok with that. I never dreamed I'd be a successful businessman at 20. So, it's not giving up on a dream but just having new dreams."
She sighed and turned her head so her cheek was against his chest and she could look up and see his face. "I think you and I have had to give up too much as it is, and I don't think either of us should believe that at 20 we have missed our opportunity to pursue lifelong dreams. In the muggle world I wouldn't even be out of university yet. To say we're too old for a shot at something, well, I just think it's absurd."
"Aside from parenthood, where we can agree to disagree on the likelihood, do you feel like you have given up lifelong dreams?"
She considered his question before answering. "Well, I agree that our dreams change, but usually the root core of it stays the same. Before I knew about magic I thought I might study at university to become a professor. But that's really just because I thought professors got to go to school and study longer than anyone else. But, I think I am sad about school being over. In the muggle world I would have gotten to attend university. But, that doesn't really seem to be an option."
"Why not?"
"What do you mean why not? I'm not going to go to a muggle university. They probably wouldn't even recognize Hogwarts as a school, and I never studied so much of the required subjects for muggles like history, literature, science and maths."
His eye roll told her he was unimpressed with her argument.
"Seriously, Ron. I am telling you muggles learn all kinds of things we never got to study."
"Oh I believe that part. I just am not sure I believe that you never went back and did all the reading on your own. Are you honestly telling me you haven't studied and read the books required for muggle history and literature and whatever other subjects?"
"Well, those, um, I may have read some of the literature and history and books," she admitted meekly. "I just found it so interesting."
"Uh huh. And the sciences or maths? You didn't read those books?"
"I haven't studied calculus."
"I don't even know what that is."
"Very advanced mathematics."
"OK. So, you know just up to the very super advanced maths that normal muggles don't know anyway?"
"Right."
"And science?"
"Well, chemistry just had so much that overlapped with potions, so I may have done a lot of reading in the summers to try and understand the similarities."
"Logically. And let me guess, something matched herbology?"
"Biology," she admitted. "BUT, I didn't study physics at all."
"OK, well what is it."
"It's the science of motion and how things move with energy through space."
"Oh, like flying?" he said, his attention piqued.
"I guess so," she laughed. "Probably why I didn't want to learn it."
"See, now there is something we could learn about together. And I could take you up on a broom and we could study how things move through the air."
She laughed and shook her head against his chest. "You're awful."
"No, I'm right. Go ahead, say it. It won't kill you. You have studied more than enough to get into a muggle university if you really wanted to. The question is, do you want to?"
"I guess I don't know the answer to that."
"Ok then. But whether you choose to or not – it is still possible."
"But what about you? What about the aurors?"
"Do you want me to be an auror?"
Hermione blanched at the thought. "Well, when you put it that way, I don't love the idea of you being in danger. But, I guess I think you and I will always be in at least a little danger. Either way, I would rather you do what you want to do and be happy than to live a safe, unhappy life in a bubble. But, like you said, the question is do you want to be an auror?"
"I just don't see how that would be possible anymore," he said.
"That wasn't the question. The question is do you want to be an auror?"
After a few minutes he finally said, "I would have liked the chance to try it. But I can't say that I would definitely want to be one. I don't think it would make me happier than I am working at the shop."
"But if you don't try, don't you think you will always wonder?"
"I suppose, but I can just see folks saying I was just following after Harry or only getting good assignments because I was his friend. And I don't want that at all."
"Oh please, you and George found me when the entire auror force, including Harry, couldn't do it. They already know you are better at that stuff than they are with or without Harry. And I know Kingsley asks you regularly to come join."
He stared at her. "How'd you know that?"
"He got tired of you ignoring his pleas and wrote to me asking me to convince you to consider it."
"So is that why we are having this conversation?"
"No. I ignored him too. But he still tries every few months. Point is that it doesn't matter what Kingsley wants or what Harry wants or what George wants. You need to do what you want. And I think you want to try."
"Nah, I think I would like to have tried, but at this point I don't want to leave you and go live in a dorm for a year for training. That just wouldn't work."
"Don't use me as an excuse. I love living with you. But I'm a big girl, I would be ok. I'd cling to you when you were home, but I would be ok."
"I'm not going to do that to us, Hermione."
"Well, I think you should keep considering it."
"OK – realistically – what would you do? Live at Grimmauld with Harry? Can he help you after nightmares? Or George? Or one of our parents?"
"That is my problem, not yours, Ron."
"That's utter bollocks," he snapped.
"No, it isn't," she huffed back. "I know you love me and want what's best for me, but I have to be able to fall and get back up on my own. What if I am so dependent on you and something happened to you? Then what? I'd be in such trouble because I'd never learned to be self-sufficient."
"Well, I'd be in huge trouble if something happened to you too, that's just being in a relationship, don't you think?"
"Well, I mean if either of your parents had died in the war, I think that both your mum and your dad would have been able to go one without the other. They'd have been devastated. They'd have grieved terribly. But they wouldn't have just stopped living. And, well, I love you so much that I would want you to have a full life if I died. And I think you would want the same or else you wouldn't have tried to get Bellatrix to let you trade places with me."
He looked at her, his eyes revealing how he thought that was a low blow shot.
"But it's true," she protested. He just gave her another glare.
"Just promise me you'll think about it. You need to put yourself first more or you will be a bitter, grumpy old wizard before you hit 30. And as someone who plans to spend my whole life with you, I don't want to be bound to a bitter, grumpy wizard."
"I promise I'll think about it. And I know I need to work less. I already talked to George about it. I'll be around more, Hermione. I promise."
"I don't need you around more. I need you to put yourself first more often. Utterly different things."
"Ok, well, I promise to try. But, if we are promising things, I need you to promise to think about some things too."
"Like?"
"Well, I'm not saying it's all bad, but you are getting pretty pissed a heck of a lot more than you ever did before. And I'm the first to say that a firewhisky every now and then is great. And I know we've acknowledged that neither of us will ever be who we were before the war. But, when you're drinking can you maybe just think about why? If it's to cut loose and have a fun night, then that's great. But, lately, it's felt a lot more like its escaping or hiding or something. And that makes me so, so sad, Hermione," he said as his voice cracked.
"I'm nothing like where George was," she protested.
"I know. But this has nothing to do with George. It's about you. Just - just promise me you'll watch yourself and observe it for a while, ok? If I'm off base, then just say so. But, the next time you find yourself reaching for a second, third or fourth firewhisky, can you just ask yourself if it's to celebrate or to numb, ok? And if it's to numb, will you consider talking to Becky about it or maybe cutting back a smidge?"
She looked at him, tension in her face, and Ron worried he'd crossed a line. But then a look of resolve crossed her eyes and she said, "I promise to limit myself to one drink an evening if you promise to go meet with Becky and talk about you, not about me."
His eyebrows shot up. "Me?"
"You. About how you are not putting yourself first, going so fast we worry you'll work yourself into the ground. Just, can you go once?"
"Um, how about we go together once, each telling Becky what we are concerned about with each other, and then we each agree to meet with her and talk about those issues one on one."
"Deal," she said quickly, and promptly kissed him.
The rest of their trip went well, alternating between enjoying the island and enjoying each other. But, neither of them ventured back to discussing the hard issues still between them, both feeling that waiting to meet with Becky was a good next step.
They arrived back home on a Thursday afternoon, and they both knew Ron would have to go back to work the following day. But, they were able to enjoy a last night just the two of them since Harry was off in Wales with Ginny, The next morning Ron was up with the sun and readying for a busy day at the shop while Hermione was making breakfast.
"Since I'm not going back to work at the library until next week I thought I'd call Becky and see when she could see the two of us together. Could you jot down some potential times next week that could work?" Hermione asked as she plated the sausages she'd fried up for him.
"Sure. I'll do that right now before I forget," he said as he snagged a sausage and looked for a quill and parchment.
"Want me to bring lunch by later?"
"I'd never turn that down," he smiled. "But you definitely don't have to."
"I know. But I want to. I'll bring sandwiches and crisps by for you and George"
"Sounds great, love. Ok, I've got to run. I love you, you know?"
"I know. And I love you too. Thanks for making it happen. I feel so much better than I did before we had our vacation."
"Me too," he said with a grin as he leaned to kiss her.
He'd intended a peck on the cheek, but she turned at the last minute and caught his lips in a real kiss. He responded quickly, his hands coming up to cup her face as he lingered over her, and she let her hands run up to his neck. Finally needing to pull away for a breath, Hermione leaned back a bit and grinned at him.
"Have a great morning. See you soon," and with that she let him head off, loving that she could elicit the light that was dancing in his eyes when he grinned at her before heading to the floo.
Ron was still grinning, thinking of his witch as he flood to his brother's flat above the shop.
"Well, good morning, sunshine," George smirked. "I must say, your goofy grin sure makes it look like you has a bloody fantastic vacation."
"Piss off," Ron said with a smile.
"Welcome back."
"Thanks. Was it busy?"
"Not too busy, but better than I had expected, so that was good. But I think the pace will pick up this weekend with the pre-Easter shopping."
"And how are you? How was it being back in the shop by yourself for a few days?"
"I'm good. But also glad you're back. Not that you need to go back to working every day, mind you. Just glad you're back in town."
"Thanks."
"You two good? Work things out?" George asked tentatively.
"Oh yeah. We're good. Just had let some things go too long without dealing with them. And, well, trying to handle it better than we did back at Hogwarts."
"Not to be crass," George crooned as he wagged his eyebrows. "But making up is better now, too, isn't it?"
Ron's ears turned deep red as he shot his brother a look.
"Thought so," smirked George.
The morning started slow, but by midday they had steady flow of customers coming through the shop. Hermione had come by with sandwiches and endured the loving teasing from George as well. But when Ron had gone back to the storefront to help some customers, George gave a Hermione a knowing stare.
"Sooo?"
"So?"
"Well, you seem as chipper as he does. But, while sparing me the gory details, did you get to talk at all about the, uh, hovering issue?"
Hermione considered him for a moment before saying, "You know me well enough to know I am not telling you about the private conversations between Ron and myself."
"Yes. Yes, I do. But I also know you well enough to know that you'll figure out an above board way to answer me anyway."
She rolled her eyes at him, but he persisted, "So?"
"Sooo, it wasn't like flipping a switch and everyone is perfect. We're all fucked up, George. It's just a matter of being honest about it and what we all need help with. But, I'll say I am feeling much more hopeful about all of it."
"Well, then that is brilliant."
"Hope so."
The following Tuesday, Hermione and Ron met at Becky's office midmorning. They were sitting in the waiting room prior to being called back. Hermione realized they were both fidgeting nervously and finally laughed.
"What?" Ron asked.
"It's just – well, between the way your leg is bouncing and the way I am fidgeting with my watch clasp, we both appear more anxious and nervous than the first time we came."
Ron chuckled as he realized she was right. "S'pose so."
But soon they were in Becky's familiar office, nervously holding each other's hands.
"Well, it's been a long time since I got to see both of you together. So, do you want to start with telling me what prompted the joint appointment or do you just want to start with telling me how your trip was?" Becky asked.
Hermione smiled at her. "The trip was wonderful. And, we had some great conversations while we were there. And, at one point we sort of reached an agreement that we both had concerns about the other. And we agreed that coming here and saying what they were in front of you so that the other person could then meet with you one on one to talk through them more at a later time was the best approach. This way we both get to sort of set the agenda, or at least highlight some areas of discussion for those conversations."
"Interesting," Becky nodded. "Did you determine who had to go first?"
"No," Ron admitted. "And honestly, this seemed like a much more brilliant solution at the time than it feels now. But, having you to sort of referee seems like a good plan. We haven't fought a lot since we've known you, but we were rather infamous for our rows in school."
"Really?" Becky asked. "Hard to picture from my exposure to the two of you. But, to be fair, you have been facing extreme circumstances in that time."
"Oh, you can ask anyone and they would confirm how bad we were," Hermione answered. "We were terrible. And, I suppose we want to be sure it stays a past tense description. But, at the same time, neither of us are any less stubborn than we were then."
"Stubborn makes us sound so bad," Ron said. "Maybe we're just passionate?"
"Uh huh," Hermione said as she rolled her eyes with a laugh. "Realistically we are both. And, our history of pointing out areas of potential opportunity for growth in each other seemed like a minefield, so to speak."
"Oh, don't get me wrong. I think it's brilliant. I just haven't had the opportunity to see you two fight. So, I am just trying to picture it. But, no matter - who's going first?"
Silence permeated the room while they both tried to wait the other out. After several awkward minutes she finally sighed.
"OK, fine. I'll go first," Hermione sighed.
"Thanks," he said quietly as he looked at her.
"Alright, well, I don't want this to come across as a negative list or anything," she said nervously.
"Well," Becky said in an encouraging tone. "From what you have said to me before, it sounded like less of a complaint and more things coming out of genuine love and concern. So, try approaching it that way. What has you worried or concerned?"
"You're right, it is concern. I am worried that Ron has done such an amazing job caring for me and caring for George and for his parents, and even my parents that he hasn't had any chance to live his own life and work towards his own dreams. And, while I adore how incredible he is with me and am so grateful for what he has done, I worry than he will eventually be bitter or resentful for not having had a chance to pursue his own dreams."
"Ok," Becky said. "So, Ron, based on the expression on your face you two have talked about this at some point already, so I gather it isn't new to hear. Do you feel she may have a point or that she is off base?"
"Well," Ron shifted awkwardly. "We have talked about it. I have tried to explain that I don't regret a single choice about caring for Hermione or the rest of my family. And, while my dreams changed from when I was younger, I could never resent the people I love. Sure some of the past few years have been really hard. But, honestly, our lives have been pretty hard since we were eleven years old. The difference is that now I am not the total fuck up I was when I was younger."
"So, why do you feel he resents or will resent you, Hermione?"
"Um, Ron works so, so hard. He refuses to let anyone fail in anything, which is incredible. But, it exhausts him. He is physically worn down. Some of the time he feels like he treats George and I more like children than equals. And I would say that is totally fair for him to feel that way. He has had to literally bring both of us back from the edge, so I'm sure that makes him terrified he could lose us. But, at some point we each have to fall down so we can learn to pick ourselves back up. And it changes the dynamic between us when he is worried I will get hurt or not eat right or get too stressed."
"I think the exact word was that I 'hover,'" Ron said flatly.
"Just sometimes," Hermione said defensively. "But at George's party when you were worried about him drinking and flirting with Angelina we had some charged interactions. I said he needed to be able to make his own mistakes and live his life. But then Ron made some comments about how he wondered when it would be his turn to live his own life, and it made me worried that he feels or will feel that way about me."
"It was a tough night..." Ron started, but Becky cut them both off.
"Ok, I think I get the idea of the issue here. I don't think we are going to get anywhere by arguing back and forth about it now, though I am beginning to see what you were talking about earlier. Am I right that you will each be coming to see me one on one later and that is when we can get into these things on a deeper level?"
They both nodded.
"Good, well, then, is there anything else on that we need to say at this point?" Becky asked.
Ron looked at Hermione who was nervously wringing her hands and chewing her lip.
"What?" Ron laughed. "Just say it, you are clearly thinking it, and if we can't handle discussing it here then where could we?"
"I just worry you will take this the wrong way, and I mean it as a good thing, not a bad thing."
"OK..."
"Well, um," she looked up at Becky with pleading eyes, but both Becky and Ron simply waited for her to continue. "Argh. OK, well, it's not really a different issue, just a pattern I have noticed that I don't think you have. It's just - you have always been incredibly loyal..."
"Not when I left," he said looking down at his lap.
"Ron! We've talked about that, everyone involved has said that you were forgiven for being possessed by a dark, evil wizard. I can't help you forgive yourself, though. That's all you. Or, maybe something you and Becky can discuss later, I suppose. But, anyway, I feel you are one of the most fiercely loving and loyal people I know. And, while you often try to play yourself off as a sidekick or the second fiddle or comic relief, you are an incredibly powerful wizard of amazing ability. And while you had to use that to chase evil for a while, outside of the war you have used those skills to carry your friends and family. But sometimes you can be a bit blustery or overbearing in how that is expressed when you are really stressed. And when you are super stressed you don't seem to stick to the healthy boundaries you stick to when you are not weighed down. And, well, it, um..."
"Just say it," both Ron and Becky said as Hermione stalled.
"Well, it reminds me of someone who we know who is incredibly similar in that pattern – someone who is incredibly powerful and fierce and loving and a force you can't ignore."
"Who?" Ron said, truly confused.
"Your mum," Hermione said softly.
"You think I am like my mum?" he yelped, his eyebrows shooting up under his fringe. "I remind you of a middle-aged witch who has never worked outside of the home and shoves food down people's throats and knits people sweaters in colors they don't like? Really?"
"Well," she said, trying to find her confidence. "Yes. Actually, I would say you are like your mum. Not that you make me think of a middle-aged mother. But – you do remind me of an amazing and fiercely powerful witch who put both Harry Potter and Dumbledore in their respective places and was the only one who could take down Bellatrix Lestrange. But you also remind me of her in that she constantly puts herself last and juggles amazing responsibilities to care for the people she loves. She wouldn't understand how to say no to anyone asking for help, and she rarely waits for people to ask. She blusters about and puts herself last and even puts herself down at times. But she notices EVERYTHING that happens around her; the Order wouldn't have survived without her, and she would do absolutely anything for someone she loved, even if they had hurt her like Percy did."
"I'm not like that," he said quietly.
"Well, let's examine the evidence, shall we? If memory serves, the first time you volunteered to physically sacrifice your life for your friends was when you were eleven years old. Even when you had not a knut to spare you asked your mum to make sure Harry was sent a present at Christmas. Your one fear is spiders, and you went into the Dark Forest as a child following a trail of spiders to find Aragog. You always take on more work, you always sniff out what needs to be done to help people you love, and you don't recognize how incredibly powerful you are."
"I'm not that powerful."
"YES YOU ARE! You are. Bellatrix broke out of Azkaban and managed to out-duel every single witch and wizard who tried to take her out, but your mum stepped in and she was gone in less than five minutes. Reminds me of how many aurors tried to take out Greyback. They couldn't do it. Lupin couldn't do it; Bill couldn't do it; Harry couldn't do it; But, Ron - you did. You and your mum are lethally powerful with your magic when you chose to be, but most of the time you find honey works better than vinegar. You love fiercely and care for all of us without being asked. And I adore you for it. Both of you. But, as you know, sometimes your mum can be a bit much to take, and we see from the outside that she just needs to take a break, to treat herself, or even just to take a night off. I guess what I am really trying to say is that I think your behavior in caring for and protecting those you love reminds me a lot of your mum. And I think your mum is amazing, but I don't know that the way she never lets others dote on her is healthy, and I hope you can find a happy medium somewhere because I love you so, so much."
Ron looked at her, a mix of defensiveness, fury, adoration, gratitude and confusion all flowing across his face.
Becky looked again between the two of them. "OK then," she said. "I think that is plenty for Ron and I to talk through another time. Is that alright with you, Ron?"
"Um, yeah. Ok," Ron stammered.
"Good. Alright then. So, Ron, what are the issues or behaviors or patterns you are concerned about?"
He suddenly felt a bit frozen, but then looked at Hermione who was encouraging him to speak. Once he swallowed and took a breath he began, "It isn't that she is doing something wrong. I just worry about her because I love her so much, and I really don't know that I could physically survive if something were to happen to her – well – again anyway."
"But..." Becky encouraged.
"Not a but, really. I know the experiences we've had both in the war and since then have to change us in many ways. And – well, Hermione, I don't know if you remember a conversation we had on the hunt after I came back. It was when we first started talking again. But you said you were worried that 'your Ron' hadn't returned."
"How could I forget that, Ron? I remember every word of that conversation. It was the first time in months I had actually felt hope about anything," she said as she wiped a tear off her cheek as she used her free hand to reach for his.
He nodded, squeezing her hand, eyes glassy but not crying.
"Right, well, in many ways we've both been trying to figure out what parts of who we each fell in love with are still there and what has changed. And we've both noted things that if that component changed would concern us for being too different. Like if Hermione didn't read, that would be a problem. And if I didn't eat like a bottomless pit or love sweets or adore quidditch it wouldn't be me. And so maybe some of the patterns I see now are just part of the new her. All that said, I worry that some things maybe are so different that it feels like something to at least question. The Hermione I knew for a long time was tight laced – a rule follower to the extreme. And that certainly caused more than a little friction between us over the years, and it has been somewhat startling to watch her evolve into someone who cuts loose more than I ever could have imagined. And some of that is great – wonderful, even, to see her allowing herself to have fun. But when it started to tip into behaviors that, from the outside anyway, look like numbing instead of celebrating I get concerned."
"Like what?" Becky asked.
"Well, like drinking mainly," he sighed, looking down at their clasped hands. "A few drinks is one thing, but then when it's more than that I get worried. And, well, there is a fine line between cutting loose and being overly risky."
"Do you have an example?" Becky asked.
"Um..." Ron started.
"The party?" Hermione asked.
"Well, yeah, I guess, but I was really thinking more about how I could work all day in the shop and come up to the flat to find both you and George so pissed you had no idea the whole day had passed."
"Oh," she said meekly.
"Hermione?" Becky asked.
She nodded, taking a moment to collect her thoughts. "There are times I feel like he is overly cautious, that's where the hovering comment came in. And I was a rule follower. I lived by tight rules so long, but then I almost died without enjoying so many things. Yet, there is probably some truth to his concern about numbing. But figuring out where the line is, understanding what is cutting loose and what isn't – well, I haven't figured that out yet I guess."
"OK, well then we'll spend some time working on that when we meet together. Are there other things as well?" Becky asked.
"Well, it's not so much a behavior, but it is a concern. I know we talked about how she is nervous I will regret not pursuing being an auror and all that. But, I get worried at how often she brings up thinking I will regret being with her long term. She knows I love her, that's not the issue at all. But, well, I don't know how much you two have talked about it, but there is a possibility she won't be able to get pregnant, and she seems to keep convincing herself that I will resent that someday, when I really won't."
"It's just I know how much you want a family..." Hermione started to say.
"Hermione," Becky cut her off. "Let him say what he needs to say."
She nodded and took a deep breath.
"I do want a family. But Hermione is my family. And I don't know how to get her to understand that. We may have biological children, and we may not. We can't know that right now. But we can certainly explore adoption or surrogacy or other possible ways to parenthood. But she doesn't seem to let herself consider that, and that really, really concerns me. Hermione has always been so confident and fiercely stubborn as she worked towards something she wanted. I am not really sure I understand where this doubt and negative talk around children is coming from, so it concerns me. I think she's amazing, and I know she will be an amazing mum. But on the off chance that none of those possible paths to parenthood pan out, I still don't want to go into a future without her by my side."
He looked over at her and saw she had a tear rolling down her cheek, so he reached over and wiped it off tenderly, causing her to give him a watery smile.
"Ok," Becky said softly. "We'll look into that as well. Any other concerns?"
"No," said Ron quietly. "Not from me anyway."
"Nor me," sniffed Hermione.
"Alright. I want you two to know that I am incredibly impressed with you both as individuals and as a couple. It takes a couple truly in love and where each is dedicated to what is best for the other to be courageous enough to have this type of conversation."
"Courageous to point out each other's possible flaws?" Ron scoffed.
"Courageous to risk rocking your relationship boat because you are worried about the one you love," Becky corrected.
"OK, I can see that," Ron conceded.
"And I think that's definitely where we are both coming from," Hermione said softly.
"Good – so we'll each talk one on one at later times, and then eventually if you want to meet as the three of us again that's easy to make happen."
Ron chuckled.
"What?" asked Becky.
"Just - not one bit of this is easy," Ron conceded. "Important, worth it, the right thing to do – yes. But not easy."
"Fair enough," agreed Becky. "And on that note, I think you have both worked hard enough for today. So, let's stop there. And if that means you two have enough time left over for coffee or a pastry or something, then that's just a bonus."
"I knew I liked you," Ron grinned.
Hermione smiled too. "Come on, let's get you some food before you go back to the shop."