Hi! Why yes, this is actually an update! I really do want to finish this one day, so thank you for still reading…I know it requires patience.

This chapter is going to be the 'letters' chapter from the original. I didn't want to go that route here, and this is what happened when I sat to write. It has little dialogue, and I feel it's kind of rushed, but hey, a chapter is a chapter, right?

oOo

The next few weeks, Ron threw himself into keeping his family afloat. Losing Fred was devastating, but George and his parents had, understandably, taken it the worst. It was obvious his dad tried to be a rock for the family, but the days usually ended with him retreating to his shed, telling everyone he wanted to be alone. His mum was even worse, spending most of her time shut away in her bedroom, with he and Ginny taking turns bringing her meals and checking in on her. On the rare occasions she did leave her bed, she seemed to be in a zombified state, her eyes glassy as she stared at the many family photos lining the walls of their home.

George was much the same as his mum, though he was also using alcohol to help numb his pain. To everyone's worry, he would sneak out of the house late at night to walk to a nearby liquor store, and whenever he was confronted about this, would blow up and yell that it wasn't their business. His brother hadn't been back to his and Fred's flat since Fred's death, and Bill had been the one responsible for making the trips back and forth to bring some of his things to the family home.

Ron took on more cooking and cleaning than he'd ever done before, with Ginny at his side as he did so. Most days seemed to drag on forever, and other than part-time shifts at his job, Ron didn't even leave the house. As the weeks went by, a part of him grew more and more resentful. Fred's loss was so profound and unfair, and something he, nor the rest of his family deserved or would ever get over. Ron knew he was needed at home, knew that his mum needed him, but part of him, the selfish part, wanted more than his current life. He felt like he'd aged 10 years in just a matter of weeks and it was doing a number on him mentally and emotionally.

The brightest part of his life was, as it probably always had been, his friendship with Hermione. Though she didn't live near and he ached for her nearly every second, the fact that he was again on speaking terms with her was something Ron treasured and leaned on daily. They talked on the phone a lot, sometimes several times a day, and he always felt lighter after hearing her voice on the other end of the line. On a whim one night, he'd also started writing her letters, and to his immense pleasure, she had reciprocated. While he didn't want to come across as needy, Ron was relieved that she didn't mind the near-constant contact with him, though he knew it shouldn't surprise him, they'd been inseparable since they were 12 years old.

oOo

Ron woke to the sound of knocking. Out of instinct, his first thought was that Hermione was trying to wake him by using the pulley, but it didn't take long for reality to set in and realize that someone was knocking on his door.

"Come'n," he mumbled, his voice groggy from sleep.

To his surprise, it was George who stuck his head in. "You have a minute?"

Sitting up in bed, Ron nodded. His brother walked in, shutting the door behind him. George had lost a significant amount of weight the last few months, and had a general unhealthy look about him. To Ron's (and everyone's) relief though, he had stopped drinking so heavily, and only touched alcohol about once a week.

"I need to talk to you."

"Alright. About what?" Ron asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"I can't run the shop by myself."

Ron froze. "You're gonna sell it?" The shop had been closed since Fred's death, but no one had had the heart to ask George what he wanted to do with it, though they'd been hoping he'd be able to re-open it someday. The shop had been the twins' dream, something they had built from the bottom up, and the thought of George getting rid of it like it was nothing made Ron feel sick.

George rolled his eyes. "No, you numptie, I'm asking you to run it with me."

"Run it with you," Ron repeated, the words not making sense.

"Yes. Are you interested?"

"I'm…" Ron yawned. "Merlin, George, I've just woken up."

"You'd have to quit your mechanic job," George went on, "but they pay you shit over there so I assume it shouldn't be a problem."

"How much would you pay me?" Ron asked, still in disbelief he was having this discussion. George gave him an estimate and Ron's eyes bulged. "Bloody hell." He shook his head, his brain still lagging. "Are you sure it's me you want?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't sure. I've been thinking about it for a while now, you're the only one other than Fred I'd want to run it with."

Ron swallowed the lump in his throat. As much as he felt like crying, he knew he had to hold it together for his brother. "Then, yeah, of course I'll do it."

George sniffed, the moment apparently emotional for him as well. "There's something else too. I…I want to move back to our- to my flat. The thought of living alone is…it's depressing as fuck."

"You want me to move into-"

"Fred's room, yeah," George cut him off. I think that's what he would have wanted…he wouldn't want me to be there alone."

Though they weren't the kind of brothers who usually hugged, Ron stood from his bed to embrace George.

"Yeah…of course."

oOo

While Ron was fully on board with the idea of moving out, he hesitated when it came to leaving his parents and little sister behind—he felt they still needed him. To his surprise, Ginny was the first to encourage him when he confided in her about his plans. She assured him that their parents would be fine and promised to look after them. More than that, she reminded him that he deserved to live his life without putting everything on hold. He was nineteen, after all—it was time for him to spread his wings.

Telling his parents was much harder. He knew his mother would struggle with the idea of him leaving, and the last thing he wanted was to add to her worries. But with George by his side for support, he finally found the courage to break the news. As expected, his mum was emotional, her concern evident in the way she fussed over them both, asking if they were sure, if they were ready. It took a great deal of reassurance—promises that they'd visit often, that they weren't abandoning the family—before she finally came around.

His dad, on the other hand, took it in stride. He placed a firm hand on both Ron and George's shoulders, his eyes filled with pride. "You boys have been through a lot," he told them. "Taking this step—it's a big one. But I'm proud of you both." His words settled something in Ron's chest, easing the last bit of doubt lingering there.

oOo

When moving weekend arrived, Hermione was there to help, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Ron could finally breathe. Just seeing her again settled something deep inside him, making him momentarily forget the chaos around him. A part of him didn't want to work at all on the move—he just wanted to spend every second touching her, talking to her, looking at her. But, true to form, Hermione arrived ready, armed with lists, an organizing plan, and even a label maker. Ron didn't stand a chance.

Still, he made sure to stay as close to her as possible, brushing against her whenever he could, stealing little moments amid the work. She huffed and nagged him every time he tried to sneak too many breaks, but she never once protested when he pulled her in for a quick hug.

That last night, after everything had been unpacked and the flat was finally starting to feel like home, Hermione stayed over. She ended up falling asleep on the sofa first, her back pressed against his chest as he curled around her, warmth and familiarity wrapping around them like a cocoon. As exhaustion pulled him into sleep, he realized he hadn't felt this kind of quiet happiness in longer than he could remember.

Sometime in the middle of the night, as sleep blurred the edges of his thoughts, he let himself do something he hardly let himself do and imagined a world where this was his every night—where he could fall asleep with her in his arms, where she was always there, always his. The idea settled deep in his chest, a longing so fierce it ached.

oOo

About a month after moving in, Harry came by for a visit. They spent the afternoon catching up, talking about everything and nothing, when Ginny unexpectedly stopped by the flat to grab something from George. The moment she stepped inside, Ron could practically see Harry's eyes turn into hearts. It was so blatant that Ron almost winced, already sensing where this was going.

What made it worse was that Ginny's expression mirrored Harry's almost instantly. There was no denying the intrigue in her gaze, the quiet but unmistakable curiosity about this stranger she'd just met. What was supposed to be a quick in-and-out trip for Ginny stretched into an entire afternoon and well into the night, the two of them completely engrossed in conversation, as if no one else existed.

Ron sat through it all, torn between amusement and mild disgust at their obvious interest in each other. He spent most of the evening feeling like an awkward third wheel, watching his best friend and his little sister flirt right in front of him. And yet, despite his discomfort, he couldn't bring himself to be upset. They were happy, genuinely happy it seemed, and even if his own love life felt like it was hanging in limbo, he supposed it was nice to see someone getting it right.

oOo

When Ron turned 20, he couldn't help but feel disappointed that Hermione was too busy to spend his birthday with him. He understood—he really did—but that didn't stop the sting of her absence. Still, he kept himself occupied, throwing himself into work as George continued teaching him the ins and outs of running the shop.

Hermione had at least sent a package… a box filled with assorted chocolates and a heartfelt letter that Ron read so many times he practically had it memorized. It wasn't the same as having her there, but it was something.

That year, his birthday happened to fall on a Friday, so George, Harry, and Ginny insisted on taking Ron out to the local pub. With a few drinks in his system, the night turned out to be more fun than he expected. Laughing, dancing, and, for the first time in a long while, feeling a little lighter.

Then came Meagan.

When a girl around his age caught his eye, for the first time in a long time, Ron allowed himself to flirt, to enjoy the attention. His head and his heart still belonged to Hermione, he knew that much, but reality had already made one thing clear: she was never going to be his, at least not in the way he wanted. So maybe it was time to move on. Maybe he had to at least try.

Meagan was great. More than great. She was smart, kind, easy to talk to, and, for some baffling reason, she seemed to really fancy him. There was attraction, a spark even, but no matter how hard Ron tried, the feelings she evoked never came close to what he felt for Hermione. Still, he convinced himself that if he gave it time, he could fall for Meagan.

But it never happened because the Hermione-shaped shadow in his heart never let it.

For a little over a month, he tried. He wanted to be present, to give Meagan the kind of relationship she deserved, but deep down, he felt like he was leading her on—and betraying himself in the process. Worse, he couldn't bring himself to tell Hermione about Meagan. Their daily conversations continued as normal, filled with letters and late-night chats, but the fact that he was keeping something from her gnawed at him. It made him feel like he was living a lie.

Meagan sensed it too.

One night, she confronted him, her expression filled with quiet frustration and something like hurt. "You're in love with someone else, aren't you?"

Ron opened his mouth to deny it. But the words never came and the silence spoke for him.

Not long after, he ended things. It wasn't dramatic or explosive—just a quiet, mutual understanding that whatever this was, it wasn't enough. Meagan deserved someone who could love her fully, and Ron… well, he wasn't sure he'd ever have what he was watching unfold between Harry and Ginny.

The thought haunted him.

Whenever work wasn't keeping him busy, he found himself dwelling on it more than he cared to admit. And the more he did, the more pathetic he felt.

oOo

When summer rolled around, Hermione informed him that she'd be spending most of it with her parents, including going on a cruise with them. A part of Ron had been happy for her, but the other part was filled with jealousy that he wouldn't be able to see her nearly as much as he wanted to.

Not only that, but the first—and most persistent—image that popped into his head was of Hermione in a bikini, standing on the deck of some fancy cruise ship, sun-kissed and glowing, catching the eye of some ridiculously charming, well-traveled bloke who would sweep her off her feet. He imagined her falling madly in love under the twinkling lights of the ship, sharing deep conversations under the stars, completely forgetting about him, her friend.

It was ridiculous. Ron knew it was ridiculous.

Hermione wasn't like that—she wasn't the type to just meet someone and abandon everything else. But the truth still remained, she could easily find love with someone who wasn't him. Someone who could give her everything she deserved without hesitation or baggage. And the thought made his stomach churn.

Not that it should matter. It wasn't like he'd be seeing much of her anyway—between work at the shop and helping George, his summer was going to be packed. But even knowing that, the jealousy still settled deep in his chest, heavy and unshakable.

oOo

As Ron had suspected, the summer flew by in a blur of work, late nights, and exhaustion. Though he managed to see Hermione a handful of times, it was never enough. Their meetings were brief—stolen hours between his busy schedule—and every time they parted ways, he was left wanting more.

The shop was busier than ever, and while Ron was proud of the work he and George were putting in, the constant demands were wearing him thin. Eventually, he managed to talk George into hiring someone to help out, arguing that if they wanted to keep up with the increasing customer flow, they couldn't keep doing everything themselves.

Enter Verity.

George hired her on the spot, and from the moment she started, things at the shop ran much smoother. With Verity's extra help, Ron seized the opportunity to take an entire weekend off for an impromptu surprise visit to Hermione for her 21st birthday. The idea struck him suddenly, and before he could talk himself out of it, he packed a small bag, and drove down, excitement buzzing in his chest the entire way. It had been too long since they'd had real time together, and he couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she realized he was there. For once, he wasn't going to let work or distance keep them apart, at least not this time.

The bewildered look on Hermione's face when she opened the door was more than worth the long drive. For a split second, she just stood there, eyes wide, mouth slightly open in shock. Then, with a scream loud enough to make his ears ring, she launched herself at him, jumping on him and wrapping her arms around his neck. Ron laughed, holding her just as tightly, reveling in the warmth of her embrace. If he could have bottled up that moment and kept it forever, he would have.

The weekend that followed was, without a doubt, the best he'd had in recent memory. They spent every waking moment together, making up for lost time with endless conversation, inside jokes, and laughter that made his stomach hurt. It felt effortless, natural, just them. The way it had always been.

And yet, beneath all the fun, Ron struggled. He was hyper-aware of every little thing about Hermione, the way she smiled at him, the way she absentmindedly chewed on her lip when she was deep in thought, the way she fit so perfectly by his side. It was all he could do to stop himself from kissing her at every available moment.

The tension only increased when Hermione's roommate started subtly flirting with him. It wasn't anything overt, just a few lingering touches, a bit of extra attention, compliments that felt just a little too suggestive. Normally, Ron might have been oblivious, but what really clued him in was Hermione's reaction.

She was clearly not happy about it.

Every time her roommate so much as batted an eyelash at him, Hermione's scowl deepened. She interrupted conversations, pulled him away to do completely unnecessary tasks, and even rolled her eyes when her roommate giggled at something he said.

Ron wasn't sure what to make of it, but he couldn't deny that it put a smug sort of satisfaction in his chest.

As always, time with Hermione passed too quickly. Before he knew it, the weekend was over, and he was back in his car, gripping the steering wheel as he drove away from her yet again.

oOo

It was around this time that George started seeing Angelina Johnson, a familiar face from school who had, surprisingly, dated Fred years ago. Ron was once again a reluctant witness to another couple falling in love right in front of him, and while he was, of course, happy for his brother, there was a familiar ache in his chest every time he saw them together. Watching George and Angelina laugh, hold hands, or simply enjoy each other's company reminded Ron of the kind of connection he longed for but wasn't sure he would ever have.

He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, not just for what George had, but for the fact that he seemed to have found someone who understood him, someone who fit into his life so naturally. Ron couldn't help but wonder if he would ever find that with anyone, especially with the way things seemed to be going with Hermione.

As things progressed, and it became clear that George and Angelina were serious, she began staying over more and more often. Soon enough, her things started to appear around the flat, and then, one evening, when she casually mentioned moving in, Ron's stomach twisted.

It wasn't that he didn't like Angelina. She was kind, fun, and easy to talk to, but the thought of another couple moving in together, creating a life of their own, made Ron feel like he was falling further behind. It also made him realize it was time for him to start thinking about his own future.

He was making good money, had a steady job at the shop, and it felt like the right time to finally take that step. He needed his own space. He couldn't keep living in a flat where his brother and girlfriend were constantly making things awkward.

The final straw came one night when Ron, trying to cook a late night meal, was forced to rush back into his bedroom to drown out the sounds coming from George's room. His face burned with embarrassment, and though he tried to not think about what was happening, he could still hear and the noise was unmistakable. It was a familiar agony that Ron had learned to live with, but he was starting to realize he couldn't ignore it anymore. There were only so many late-night walks around the block he could take before he started to lose his mind.

It was time. Time to find his own place, to stop pretending he wasn't affected by the closeness he saw between others. Ron knew it was the right move, even if it meant facing the loneliness that sometimes crept in when the laughter and the love of others seemed to amplify his own yearning.

oOo

When Hermione told him she was coming to spend two weeks with him for the holidays, it also solidified his resolve to find a place of his own. The thought of having her there, in his own space, made Ron's heart race. He could already picture the evenings spent curled up on the sofa, talking for hours or simply enjoying each other's company without interruptions. And of course, there was the undeniable pull towards her, the way her presence seemed to fill the empty spaces in his life.

Just the idea of being alone with Hermione, in a space that was his, where they could relax without anyone around, tempted him to imagine what it might be like to share something more with her, to let the unspoken tension finally unfold. But as soon as that thought crossed his mind, Ron pushed it away. He knew he couldn't go down that road again—not after what happened the last time. He couldn't risk building up hope only to have it shattered…again. The one night they'd shared was something he'd never forget, but he also knew it couldn't be repeated.

Still, even though he was trying to keep his mind from wandering too far, it wasn't just sex he was thinking about. It was more than that. Much more. He wanted her, yes, he wanted her body, to again bring her pleasure, to feel the way her naked skin pressed against his. But he also wanted her love, to feel how every glance from her made him feel seen, understood, and valued. He wanted everything she could offer, all of her heart, her trust. And yet, he also understood that it was complicated…far more than he had the courage to admit.

With Christmas coming up, Ron made a silent vow to himself. He was going to make this the best Christmas Hermione had ever had. He wasn't sure how, exactly, but he knew it would involve more than just giving her a gift. It would be about showing her how much she meant to him, creating memories that would last beyond the holiday season. He didn't want to just be her best friend, he wanted to be someone who made her smile in ways no one else could, someone who could make her feel just as special as she made him feel.

As Ron ruminated on what he could do to make that happen, a sudden idea flashed in his mind, a simple yet powerful one. It was the kind of gesture that could convey everything he was feeling, even if it made him feel a little exposed, a little vulnerable. With a burst of determination, he rushed to his closet, the idea taking root more firmly with each step. Moving aside some junk, he began rummaging through things, his hands quickly finding the shoe boxes he hadn't opened in ages.