Hello all!

This is mainly a filler chapter before things go….uh…south for Ron (insert sobbing face)

I'm sorry for the wait and thank you for your patience. Life has been so hectic lately and finding the time/energy to write is rare, unfortunately. In terms of word count, this chapter is relatively shorter than the others, but considering there isn't much happening with Ron at the moment, it makes sense. Happy reading :)

oOo

"Fuck!" Ron swore as he dropped a heavy box onto the waist-height shelf in his brothers' shop, the bottom corner landing on and pinching his thumb. Shoving the wounded digit in his mouth, he muttered another curse, irritated at the shit day he was already having.

"Poor ickle Ronniekins having a bad day?" Fred asked as he walked into the small storage room, more boxes that appeared significantly less heavy than Ron's had been cradled in his arms.

Ron glared at his brother. "Now even more so since I'm forced to help you unload all your junk."

His brother rolled his eyes. "You're so dramatic. I asked for your help because George is at the dentist. I'm paying you too, ickle, it's not like I'm forcing you to do anything."

"Well, I'll blame George, then. The stupid git," Ron said with a halfhearted smile. He knew his pissy mood wasn't anyone's fault but his own, and felt bad for snapping at his brother.

Fred studied him for a moment before setting down and straightening the stacked boxes, then moving some more from the floor to the shelf. "You know, Ron, you've been in a right foul mood for a while now. Ever since-"

"Don't even say it," Ron interrupted. It had been almost nine months since he'd last seen Hermione, nine months since she'd up and moved away, leaving him feeling empty. He was tired of everyone he knew bringing her name up, tired of the constant questions he repeatedly dodged or outright refused to answer.

"What happened between you two, Ron? It's just you and me here now. I promise not to tell anyone… even George," Fred pressed.

Ron paused. For nine months, he'd been determined to not talk about Hermione with anyone. Hell, he hadn't even said her name aloud because it hurt too much, as pathetic as that was. But he'd been silent for so long and right now, with just Fred around, a part of him wanted…needed to unload. Maybe if he did so, the heavy weight on his chest would be lifted- at least somewhat.

"I," he started.

"You're in love with her," Fred finished. "Already knew that, so there's no need for you to force those words out. See, I made it even easier for you." He nodded. "Now, go on."

Ron glared at his brother but didn't deny it. "We…we um..."

"Wow. Pulling words from you is hard, Ronnie. The dentist who is currently pulling George's wisdom teeth out of his skull is probably having an easier time than I am."

"You're not letting me bloody talk!" he snapped.

Fred held his hands up in surrender. "Right. Fine, sorry. I'll shut my trap."

Ron sighed. "Hermione and I went to prom together, you know." He swallowed. "Afterwards we…we.." His throat wouldn't even allow him to utter the words, the memories of that night coming back in crystal-clear clarity, despite the months of forcing himself not to think of it.

"Hooked up?" Fred asked hesitantly, obviously too impatient to wait for Ron to finish.

Hooked up. The words made Ron grimace. He'd had hookups before, but what had happened between him and Hermione…it hadn't felt like a hookup, not at all. That night had been more than just sex…so much more. Ron felt as if he'd bared his soul to her, and she to him. Though not a lot of words had been spoken between them, Ron felt as if he'd never been closer to Hermione, never been closer to anyone. The high he'd been on…he'd been a thousand feet up in the clouds only to fall down and hit the cold, hard earth. It was no wonder the whole thing had fucked him up so bad.

"Sort of, yeah," he admitted.

"Sort of?" Fred frowned. "How do you 'sort of' hook up?"

"It was…more than a hookup," Ron said, his face growing hot.

"Ohhh," Fred replied, drawing the word out. "I think I get it. Not that I've ever experienced it because I've never been in love or anything. I've come close, though, I think. There was this one girl, and she was-"

Ron snorted, and Fred had the decency to look abashed. "Right. We're talking about you."

"I thought we would, you know, talk about things…after. For the first time, it felt like we were on the same page. To me, it seemed that Hermione felt for me as I did for her but then-" he paused, gulping, the words stuck tight in his throat and not wanting to come out. "She must've changed her mind at some point because the next morning she didn't want to talk to me... could barely even look at me. She was crying, and I didn't have any idea why she-" he broke off, not wanting his words to turn into tears. Though it was clear from the look of concern on Fred's face that he wouldn't take the piss on him, Ron still refused to cry in front of his brother.

"Did she say why?" he asked.

Ron shook his head. "She said it was a mistake," he choked out. "She regretted it. She didn't say so, but I think being with her that night made her hate me. Or that's what it felt like, anyway."

Fred let out a low whistle. "Did you get a chance to tell her the truth about how you felt about her?"

"I tried, but she didn't want to bloody listen! Besides, she said she already knew what I was going to say and didn't want to hear it."

He grimaced. "Harsh. Doesn't seem like Hermione would say something like that."

"Well, she did. Almost word for word."

"I'm sorry, Ron. That's gotta be tough."

"And then I-" Ron let out an unamused laugh, "a few days later, I fucked up and made things between us even worse."

Fred raised an eyebrow, urging him to go on.

"I brought a girl over to the side of the house and kind of…we started messing around in clear view of Hermione's window."

"And I gather she saw?" his brother guessed as he rubbed at his temple.

He nodded. "Hermione yelled at us. She told the girl I was with that I was using her." He sighed. "and to be perfectly honest, she wasn't wrong about that. Then, when I was walking away, she screamed at me and called me disgusting. And that's only after she cut down the pulley system with a pair of bloody scissors."

"She did that?" Fred asked, eyes wide. "I thought you said you took it down because she moved?"

"Yeah, well, I lied."

His brother pursed his lips. "Something isn't adding up though," he remarked slowly. "If Hermione didn't have feelings for you in that way, why would she get upset about you bringing another girl round? To me, that sounds like she was jealous. If she truly didn't want to be with you, shouldn't she be relieved that you were with another girl and not pining over her?"

Ron shrugged. The same questions had been plaguing him night and day for months. The truth was, Hermione's emotional responses weren't logical. Why had she wanted to have sex with him only to immediately regret it? Why would she be furious seeing him with Lavender if she didn't want to be with him? He couldn't comprehend it at all, and thinking about it 24/7 only left him feeling more confused and upset.

"Who knows," he said, "but I'm done trying to analyze everything she does. She told me flat out that being with me that night was a mistake, so I guess in her eyes, it was."

"No, really," Fred went on, looking as if he hadn't even been listening. "That doesn't make sense," he said again. "She wouldn't just cut down the pulley system because you were with another girl unless your feelings for her were reciprocated. As far as I know, Hermione has always been pretty level-headed unless she's really upset about something."

"Well, it's not like I know what was going on in her head," Ron snapped, starting to feel agitated, "and it doesn't even really matter, anyway. Regardless of anything you might think, she left and wants nothing to do with me. That's all there is to it."

"I wonder why she would say it was a mistake, though," Fred continued, almost as if talking to himself. "Did you say or do anything that night that would piss her off? Was the sex bad or something?"

Ron glared at his brother, and Fred threw his hands up in defense. "I'm not suggesting it was, I'm just trying to get to the bottom of this."

"There's nothing to get to the bottom of." While part of Ron felt a bit lighter for finally unloading some of the things he hadn't told anyone, Fred's insistence to figure out the reason for Hermione's anger felt like little knives to his heart.

"I disagree," Fred said resolutely. "You're missing something, Ronnie. My guess is that Hermione wants to be with you as much as you want to be with her, but there was some kind of miscommunication that happened somewhere along the wa-"

"Stop," Ron cut him off. "I'm done talking about this. You wanted me to tell you what happened, and I did. Thanks for listening or whatever, but I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Fred looked as if he wanted to say more about it, but to Ron's relief, he didn't. "Alright," he said with a sigh. "Let's get this shit done, then," he said, gesturing to the boxes.

oOo

A few weeks later, Ron found himself in the grocery store, making a quick stop on his way home from work to pick up a few ingredients for his mum. As he reached for a wrapped head of iceberg lettuce, he heard the distinct sound of a throat being cleared behind him.

"Ron. Hey."

He turned to see Dave standing there, looking just as awkward as Ron felt. "Hey," he said, forcing a smile on his face. "How's it going?"

Dave shoved his hands in his pockets. "I've been good. Haven't seen you around in a long time."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Ron said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've been…busy.." he trailed off, well aware the words sounded like an excuse.

And they were, of course. Lately, he'd been too wrapped up in himself to even think about any of his friends. He knew it was shitty of him, but the thought of attending one of Dave's parties made him feel nauseous. Though he still cared about Dave, Charlotte, and several others, he didn't feel like the old Ron anymore. The old Ron had always been up for a party, but the new Ron preferred to stay in his bed and watch reruns of old sitcoms. It was pathetic, he knew, but something inside of him had shifted significantly when Hermione had left, and he was almost certain it would never revert to the way it had been before.

"Just tell me this. Is it something I did?" Dave asked in a hard voice, a hurt expression on his face. "Because it feels like I don't even know you anymore."

"It's not you," Ron said honestly. "I've just been a shit friend."

This made Dave smile a little. "The fucking worst," he replied. "You know, I'm having a party this weeken-"

Ron cut Dave off with an adamant shake of his head. "Sorry, mate, but no. I'm through with partying. It's only complicated things for me in the past. Drinking makes me do stupid shit I regret."

Dave pursed his lips but thankfully didn't question Ron further. "Well, maybe lunch sometime, then? Char really misses you," he added.

"Yeah, definitely," Ron said, fully intending to have lunch with his old friends.

The two said their goodbyes, and the thought of catching up with Dave and Charlotte had lightened his mood considerably. When Ron made it home and walked in the door, he was tackled by the twins, who were there for dinner.

"There he is!" George yelled happily. "The dinner savior!"

"The lettuce king!" Fred added, ruffling Ron's hair.

Ron shoved them both away, but he was smiling. "Bloody gits," he muttered.

Fred placed both hands over his heart, his mouth dropping open dramatically. "Did you hear that, George?" he asked incredulously. "He loves us!"

"I heard, Fred," George said with a nod, pretending to wipe a tear away. "I'd even wager that we're his favorite siblings!"

"No." Ginny, who was coming down the stairs, cut in loudly. "Everyone knows I've always been Ron's favorite."

"Bill's my favorite," Ron said, laughing. "You three are at the bottom of the list."

George blanched. "There's no way that we are lower on that list than Percy is."

Ron shrugged. "Percy doesn't take the piss on me every time he sees me."

"But that's how we show our affection," Fred exclaimed. "Taking the piss is our love language."

Before Ron could retort, Mrs Weasley stepped in the room, her hands on her apron-clad hips.

"What's taking so long, Ronald?" she scolded before walking forward and taking the three heads of lettuce from his arms. "I just need to make the salad, and then dinner will be ready."

She shuffled back into the kitchen, Ron and his siblings following along, driven by the delicious aroma coming from the table.

Amidst the meal and conversation with his family, Ron found himself unable to suppress a smile. It had taken a long while, but for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope that things would eventually be okay. He still hurt, and though he didn't think it would dissipate anytime soon, that didn't mean he couldn't find joy in the things he did have.