“Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation� – Kahlil Gibran

It was the chiming clock that woke him. That stupid, darned carriage clock that Harry had given Mr Weasley for a birthday present. And now it was chiming. Very loudly. At midnight. Ron was not impressed.

“Shut up, you stupid thing!� he moaned, turning over in bed to bury his head beneath the pillow. Soon enough it would stop chiming. He waited for the blessed silence to return. But it did not. The clock kept on insistently chiming, and seemed almost to be getting louder. Ron groaned once more, before sliding out of bed and grabbing his wand.

“Right,� he said grimly, grasping the wand as if it were a spear. “You asked for it, clock.� He left his room and made his way to the chest of drawers by the large bay window, where the offensive clock was still chiming away happily as if its life depended on it.

“Silencio!� Ron muttered, waving his wand at it and, finally, it shut up. “Thank you!� Ron sighed, as his ears filled with – music? Who was playing music at this hour? Everyone else in the house had gone to bed, yet he could definitely hear some kind of music playing. It took him a moment to realise that the sound was not coming from inside the house but from outside. Strange. Ron moved to the window to discover the source of the haunting melody.

The moon was full and bright, casting silvery ripples over the land. Forgetting about the music for a moment, Ron grinned as he thought of what lay ahead. He could hardly believe that it was a whole week since he had set foot in Hogwarts for the final time. It still felt as though it had been that long since he had first set foot on the Hogwarts Express. But now Voldemort had gone; the darkness that had hung over them all since first year had finally gone, to be replaced with light. Just like the silvery moon in the sky. And tomorrow would be Ron’s first day as Keeper for the Chudley Cannons Reserve Team. He could hardly wait. Everything would be different. He planned on telling Hermione exactly how he had felt about her for the past four years. He would be everything she wanted him to be and more. As long as she liked him too, of course.

Now, however, his thoughts returned back to the music. He didn’t recognise it, but it was a very beautiful song. He could see someone on the grass dancing, dressed in as long white dress. He couldn’t quite make out who it was, but he had a shrewd suspicion.

Quietly, so as not to wake anyone else, he crept down the flights of rickety stairs and let himself out of the backdoor. He could see her dancing barefooted on the dewy grass, her long white nightie whirling about her bare ankles, while her hair flew around her face. She didn’t seem to notice him; she was too absorbed in her dance. Ron never knew how long he stood watching: it might have been minutes, it might have been hours. When there was a slight pause in the music, however, he moved forward slowly, calling her name.

“Hermione?� She jumped and spun round to stare at him, her face almost as white as her gown. When she recognised the intruder, however, she smiled, although something wistful seemed to linger in her eyes.

“Ron.� She seemed pleased to see him, but a little embarrassed. “Don’t creep up on me like that, you startled me.�

“Sorry,� he said apologetically. “It’s just – why are you dancing?� Hermione laughed.

“I love dancing,� she said simply. “When I was a little girl, my parents paid for me to have dance lessons, and now whenever I go back to the Muggle world I go back and practise my dancing. I danced a lot at Hogwarts, you just didn’t see.�

“You dance very well. But you still didn’t answer my question. Why are you dancing?�

“I told you. I love dancing. In fact,� Hermione looked away from him into the starry sky, “I always felt rather like I’d been neglecting my dancing a little, all the time when I was practising my magic. And that’s why…� Her voice seemed to drift away on the breeze.

“That’s why what?� Ron asked, puzzled. Hermione sighed, still determinedly not looking at him.

“That’s why I have to go.�

“Go where?�

“Tomorrow I take up my position at the Royal Ballroom Academy. I’m going to train for three years and then take it up professionally. It’s always been my… my dream.� It didn’t look like it had always been her dream. Her eyes filled with tears as she said the words and she turned back to look out over the moonlight landscape.

“You’re going to live as a Muggle? After everything that’s happened? Gods, Hermione, you just graduated as a fully-fledged witch a week ago! And now you’re throwing that away?�

“What has the wizarding world given me, Ron?� she asked shrilly, turning to face him. “Seven years of abuse from idiots like Draco Malfoy, seven years living in fear from an evil tyrant, seven of what should have been the best years of my life wasted worrying about my friends and, oh yeah, it gave me two dead parents! Oh, how could I not want to stay?!�

“It gave you me and Harry,� Ron said quietly. “Aren’t we enough?�

“Too much pain,� Hermione whispered, shaking her head dejectedly, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Too much suffering. I can’t take it anymore. I’m going to become a dancer. End of story. I promise I’ll write.� She switched off her music and hurried away into the house. Ron stood silently, shocked, before making his way to the small bench overlooking the valley. He didn’t know how long he spent there. But when he awoke dawn had broken, and Hermione Granger had gone.

“To fear love is to fear life, and those who fear life are already three parts dead� – Bertrand Russell

10 years later

Screaming. He couldn’t stand anymore screaming. He couldn’t stand waking every day to more screams. Groaning, he rolled out of bed and dragged himself across to the window and opened it.

“Go away!� he yelled hoarsely. “Leave me alone!� After yelling a few choice swear words at the gaggle of hormone-infested teenage witches outside his apartment building, Ronald Weasley crawled towards his bathroom, through the mass of beer bottles and pizza boxes that seemed to amass more and more every night. Particularly the beer bottles.

Not like he couldn’t afford it. As Chudley Cannon, England and now Europe goalkeeper, he could afford anything he liked. The only problem was that he had nobody to share it with. True, he’d had his fair share of girls. More than his fair share. But none he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He couldn’t stand the thought of it. Every time he looked at his latest girlfriend, Heavenly-Paige Shuffle-Gordon, he saw her fake blonde hair transform into frizzy brown curls and her vacant blue eyes become brown and earthy. He could never love anyone the way he’d loved Hermione.

She’d kept her promise. She’d written once a month to both him and Harry, and had recently told them that she could add Wizarding European Ballroom and Latin Champion to the numerous Muggle titles she had already won. Harry wrote back with news of his and Ginny’s wedding, and subsequent birth of young daughter Charlotte. Hermione had not been able to attend the wedding, due to a competition in Belgium. Ron thought whether this was a good or bad thing. Perhaps it was best she hadn’t seen his drunken display on that particular occasion. Or any occasion since. Hm.

It really was useful, Ron thought, that he was now the face of Healey’s Happy Hangover Cure. Before being supplied with dozens of boxes of the stuff free of charge, he’d had to make do with puking his guts out every morning before forcing down his own home-made remedy of ketchup, ice cream and gherkins. He now grabbed a bottle from his plentiful supply and took an enormous swig, feeling his headache and nausea disappear almost at once. He looked at the clock. He would be late again. Not that it mattered: his coach wasn’t about to sack the ‘greatest goalkeeper that ever lived’. Or at least that was what the Daily Prophet called him. The same Daily Prophet that so stupidly printed his address in the paper only a week previously. Hence the screaming fan girls outside his apartment morning till night. Ron frowned out the window at them, then even more at the mess that was his flat. He was a complete wreck.

Sighing, Ronald Weasley changed into his Quidditch robes and Apparated to his training ground.


~~*~~


When he returned home at half past four, Ron was dismayed but completely unsurprised to find his flat exactly the same as he’d left it. He manoeuvred his way to his phone to find six messages waiting for him from Heavenly-Paige, each more sickly-sweet than the last. There was one final message left for him, which turned out to be from his agent, Estelle.

“Ron, it’s me, Estelle. Just thought I’d remind you that it’s the Masquerade Ball tonight to celebrate Wizarding Sports Personality of the Year, for which, I might remind you, you are an honorary guest with a chance of picking up Sportsman of the Year. So you will be there at half past six, and you will not get drunk until after receiving your reward. There’s something else I want to talk to you about, but I’ll wait to tell you in person. See you there.�

Ron groaned.


~~*~~


“And the winner is,� the blonde haired Quidditch Seeker announced, “Ronald Weasley!� Booming cheers and storms of clapping erupted as Ron got up to graciously accept his award, smiling as falsely as he could.

“Thank you, thank you, it’s very kind of you all, thank you so much,� he uttered, before taking the award back to his seat and wiping the grin from his face once he was sure no cameras were on him. Estelle was sitting beside him.

“Nice acceptance speech,� she said acidly.

“Oh whatever, just pass me a beer,� Ron muttered. Estelle sighed, but obliged. Soon the award ceremony was over, and everyone was ushered into a huge room decorated with enormous silver drapes. They all adorned masks and thus the Masquerade Ball began.

Ron, of course, made for the bar.

“One large vodka,� he ordered of the pretty bar girl. “And whatever my good friend here is having,� he added, as a tall girl wearing a long sparkly red dress appeared beside him. She looked appraisingly at him.

“I can get my own drinks,� she told him, curtly.

“Yes, but I can get your drinks too,� he told her, wagging a finger.

“Yes, but I don’t want you to buy my drinks for me,� she pointed out. Ron stared at her. No girl ever turned down an offer of a drink from him.

“Don’t you know who I am?� he asked, incredulously.

“No,� she replied. “You’re wearing a mask. And I don’t want to know, thank you.�

“Tell you what,� Ron said, raising an eyebrow. “I won’t buy you a drink. I won’t even talk to you for the rest of the evening. Just give me one dance.� At that very moment, the DJ began playing Chris de Burgh’s ‘Lady in Red’.

“Come on, they’re playing your song!� Ron said enthusiastically. He could just see one of her eyebrows raised.

“Fine,� she said, getting up and stalking over to the dance floor. “Come on then.� He hurried over to her and put his arms around her, and they began moving in time to the music. Ron tried to look into her eyes, but they were firmly fixed on a point over his shoulder.

“You’re a good dancer,� he said, hopefully.

“Thank you,� she replied, the eyebrow raising once more. “But how can you tell, when all we’re doing is moving from side to side?�

“Er…� He supposed she had a point.

“How do you know Muggle music, anyway?� the girl asked, clearly looking for some conversation.

“This girl I used to like played this song all the time,� Ron admitted, thinking of Hermione.

“It is a nice song,� the girl admitted grudgingly. Then, for the first time, she looked into his eyes.

There was something about her eyes. He couldn’t say what it was, but some kind sparkle glittered in the bright brown eyes behind the mask. Neither of them spoke again until the end of the song; the girl appeared to be lost in thought.

“So,� Ron said hopefully, leading the way back to the bar, “what about that drink?�

“I’ll have a small Fire whiskey, then,� she said, finally. As the bartender went to fetch their drinks, a man appeared between them, placing his hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“Oh,� she said, suddenly startled and a little flustered, “this is Alex,� she told Ron. “My long-term boyfriend.�

Ron looked Alex up and down. He was shorter than Ron, but had deep blue eyes, spiky blond hair and a strong jawline. Dammit.

“Long term?� Ron asked sourly. “Why don’t you just go ahead and get married?�

“I don’t believe in marriage,� the girl said quietly.

“Come on, love, let’s go and dance,� Alex said, pulling the girl away. Ron caught one last fleeting glimpse of her brown eyes behind the mask before suddenly she was gone.

“Best make that a large one,� Ron told the bartender bitterly, indicating the girl’s untouched Fire whiskey. “It’s going to be a long night.�

~~*~~


By the time Estelle found Ron several hours had passed. He attempted on several occasions to try and count the numerous beer bottles lined up in front of him, but they had an irritating habit of moving from side to side so he lost count.

“I thought you’d be here,� Estelle said reprovingly as Ron downed half a bottle in one gulp.

“Eh? Oh, it’s you!� He pulled her into a tight hug. “You’re not gonna leave me, are ya? Cosh, everyone does, but you are like, my best mate, yeah? Whoa!� Ron nearly toppled off his stool but grasped the bar top for support.

“You’ve got an invitation to appear on a reality TeleWizion show,� Estelle said slowly. “You’ll have to dance, and-“

“Dance?! I love dancing!� Ron proceeded to show off his ‘dancing’ skills, but merely succeeded in falling flat on his face with a groan. Estelle suppressed an eye roll, as nearby photographers hurried to get yet more shots of the plastered Quidditch star making a fool of himself. Yet again.

“So you’ll do it then?�

“I’m in!� Ron shouted gleefully.

“Great, you start tomorrow. Now let’s get you out of here, so you can fall into your drunken stupor in private.�


~~*~~


When they reached Ron’s apartment, he was singing loudly, accompanied by the odd giggle and occasional loud belch. Estelle enlisted the help of the taxi driver to heave Ron, whose feet appeared to have failed him, up to his apartment.

Once Ron was safely inside his flat, Estelle and the cabbie left. Inside, Ron staggered about drunkenly until he found his bedroom and, with a final thought of the mystery girl, passed out on the bed.

“The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed� – Carl Jung

It was not the screams that woke Ron next morning. It was the shrill ring of the telephone.

“Ron Weasley, you get yourself to Pine View Studios within 10 minutes or you get yourself another agent!� Estelle shrieked at him by way of greeting. He winced – he had not yet taken his Happy Hangover Cure.

“Whoa, ‘stelle. Too. Loud. Bad. Head. Gonna. Puke.�

“I’m not surprised, the amount you drank last night, but at least you got more publicity, you made the front page again. Anyway, you get to the studios now. Your partner’s already waiting and you can’t back out now. I’ve signed the contract for you.�

“Whoa, whoa – partner?!�

“Yes, I forgot to mention – it’s ballroom dancing.�

Pause.

“My partner is a girl, isn’t she?�

“Yes, of course she is, just get your butt over here now and meet her.�

Wahey, Ron thought gleefully as he put the phone down and scrambled for a bottle of Hangover Cure. A girl. A dancer girl. In pretty dresses. You, Ronald Weasley, have hit the jackpot. Note to self: dump Heavenly-Paige.


~~*~~


So what’s the show about?� Ron asked Estelle when he met her in the reception of Pine View Studios.

“Your partner teaches you how to ballroom dance, you perform live on a Saturday night and the worst couples get voted off each week,� Estelle explained in a bored voice, as she led him into a large dance studio.

“Wait here, I’ll go and get her,� she instructed him before departing. Ron looked around the huge white room and noticed one wall was panelled with mirrors. Ron immediately hurried over to fix his hair.

He was interrupted from his preening by a slight, very deliberate, cough from the near the door. Hurriedly he jumped round to meet his partner for the first time.

Or not, as it turned out to be.

The girl standing in front of him was quite tall and slim, with bright brown eyes and lots of frizzy brown hair. It was Hermione.

It was at this moment that Ron’s jaw became acquainted with the floor.

“Ron!� she shrieked joyfully, running to him and hugging him. “It’s you! It is you, isn’t it?� she asked, suspicious at his lack of greeting.

“Yeah, it’s me,� Ron managed to say. He was dumbstruck. The first thought that ran through his head was, ‘I’m gonna need a stiff drink tonight.’

“It’s good to see you,� Hermione said, breathlessly. “I’ve, er, seen a lot of you in the papers,� she added cautiously.

“You seen this morning’s?�

“No, I’m afraid not.�

“Oh, it’s a classic – spectacular vomit all over the World Cup winning Quidditch coach. Fantastic.�

“Oh. This is a pretty regular thing?�

“What, me getting wasted? Oh, every night.�

“Why?�

“What?�

“I asked you why you do it,� Hermione said, in a hard voice. “What happened to the fun-loving Ron who never went too far?�

“He’s probably gone with the happy Hermione who never deserted her friends.�

“I never deserted you,� Hermione said, shocked.

“Er, correction, I think you did. You left the wizard world for seven years before finally deigning to return and not meet up with us for years. No desertion there, clearly.�

“Oh shut up, Ron, and let’s get on with this,� Hermione spat, acidly.

“Fine. What dance are we doing?� Ron asked bitterly, folding his arms.

“The waltz. Now, the waltz has its history rooted in a peasant dance from the Provence area of France in 1559, from a piece of folk music called The Volta. Partners had to hold each other in such a close embrace that many declared it immoral, and Louis XIII even banned it from his court for a while.�

“A close embrace?�

“Yes, like this.� Hermione proceeded to move Ron’s arms into the correct position. Ron attempted to shift himself: this embrace was definitely rather too close for comfort, especially when it was with a girl he’d spent over half his life dreaming about yet hadn’t seen for 10 years.

“Why the hell did I agree to do this?� Ron muttered under his breath.

“I’d blame the beer,� Hermione replied smoothly.

~~*~~


By the time Ron reached home at half past six that evening, he was absolutely shattered. His feet were aching from having leapt around the floor, his legs were aching from standing up all day and his head was aching from Hermione shouting at him all day. Not to mention that time she’d hit him round the head for not co-operating. He didn’t understand how she could enjoy this sort of painful torture.

Normally Ron would have headed directly for one of his crates of beer, but something stopped him. Perhaps it was seeing Hermione again, but something in his head was telling him to stop. Instead, he decided, he would call for a Chinese and get an early night. As he thought this, Ron shook his head slightly, wondering if this dancing business was affecting his brain. The earliest night he’d gotten recently was about two in the morning, and that was only because he’d been thrown out of the club he’d been at and had nowhere else to go.

After placing his order with the Chinese takeaway round the corner, he decided he would follow Hermione’s advice to listen to some music. She had given him a CD which had three songs on it, and she wanted him to choose one for them to waltz to. After several minutes of trying to work his CD player, Ron finally managed to get it working. The first song that came out was sung by someone with a very powerful voice, but he did not know who it was, for it was a Muggle singer. He glanced at the piece of paper that Hermione had listed the tracks on and saw that it was called ‘I Have Nothing’ by some singer called Whitney Houston. It seemed to be ok, but a bit soppy for Ron’s taste. He flipped to the next track.

The next track was called ‘Moon River’. It was a very orchestral version that Hermione had chosen, and Ron didn’t find himself particularly enthralled by it. He sat through one minute of it before skipping to the final track, which was called ‘Love Don’t Live Here Anymore’. This was the only song Ron sat all the way through, listening to the words running through his head. It seemed so true to his life at that moment that he didn’t think there was any way he couldn’t pick it. This was the track.


~~*~~


That week Ron had to juggle training with his Quidditch team with dancing lessons with Hermione. The first day back at work he’d had a bit of stick for doing ballroom dancing, but when he reminded them that he was spending possibly the next ten weeks in close proximity with a dancer, they shut up. In fact, they seemed rather envious. Ron didn’t mention that his partner just happened to be his long lost love of his life. All too soon, however, the first live show came upon them, and Ron was facing the prospect of dancing live to millions of wizards up and down the country.

He spent every spare moment practising steps. He didn’t want to let Hermione down, and couldn’t face the thought of being voted out in the first week. She kept promising him that wouldn’t happen, but he wanted to make absolutely sure.

He arrived at the TeleWizion studios early, and was surprised to find Hermione there also. He found her in the ballroom studio where they would be dancing, as she looked around at the amount of space and the positions they would have. Ron gulped as he saw the rows and rows of gilt backed velvet cushioned chairs, the huge orchestra stand and enormous expanse that was the dance floor. To one side was a long gilt table with four seats behind it: this was where the judges would sit.

“Merry Merlin’s aunt,� he muttered softly. At the sound of his voice, Hermione turned round.

“Ron! Don’t creep up on me like that, you startled me!� she gasped.

“Good morning to you too,� he replied. She laughed.

“Hey, you want a quick practise now?� she asked, gesturing to the dance floor. He agreed gladly, and soon they were waltzing around the floor. Ron began to marvel at how quickly and easily he had become used to Hermione’s presence once more, and how the unnaturally close grip no longer felt uncomfortable. He smiled at the thought that he would be dancing that evening with the long lost love of his life.

“Knut for your thoughts?� Hermione asked, softly, as they twirled round and round.

“I was just thinking, er,� Ron cast around for something to say, “that, er, you’re going to look very pretty in your dress tonight.� Curse you Ron Weasley! You’re not supposed to say what you actually were thinking!

“Oh,� Hermione said, surprised, blushing slightly. “Erm, thank you. Have you seen what you’re wearing yet?�

“No,� Ron replied, startled. “Can’t I just wear a suit?� The music finished and Hermione collected her CD player, laughing.

“No, Ron, you’ve got to wear proper dancing gear. Come on, I’ll show you. I’ll show you my dress at the same time,� she added, glancing at him. Ron caught her glimpse, and the two of them hurriedly looked away again, not speaking until they reached the dressing rooms. Hermione went into hers and retrieved two large clothes bags, one of which she handed to Ron.

“Here’s my dress,� she said, lifting the bag and showing him. It was floor length pale blue material, with dark blue shimmering material veiled across it in several places.

“It’s er, very nice,� Ron said, lamely. Hermione grinned.

“Wait until you see yours,� she said slyly. Slowly, Ron took out his costume: and yelled in shock. The trousers were going to come up way too high, and even had stirrups on the bottom to keep them attached to his dancing shoes. On top of that he had a pale blue shirt with ruffles down the front, and a dark blue bow tie and waistcoat.

“I. Am not. Wearing. That.�

“Yes. You. Are. We have to go together, Ron, and the blue on your outfit matches my dress. Don’t complain.�

“Don’t complain?! You don’t have to wear this thing! I’ve never worn anything so hideous!�

“What about those dress robes in fourth year?� Hermione asked pointedly, a grin creeping up her face once more.

“I didn’t have to wear those on national TeleWizion!� Ron yelled.

“Complain all you like then, but it’s not changing. You are wearing those, and that is final.� Hermione stalked off into her dressing room, slamming the door behind her and leaving Ron standing with mouth wide open and hideous dance costume in his arms. This show was not going to go well. He could feel it.

“We can only learn to love by loving� – Iris Murdoch

Throughout the course of the day, Ron met the other celebrity contestants. They were mostly TeleWizion stars, although there were also a famous singer, two comedians and – Gilderoy Lockhart. Ron and Hermione had returned to the dance floor to find Lockhart swanning around it dragging his partner, who looked scared out of her wits. Consequently Ron spent the majority of the day avoiding Lockhart. All too soon, however, the evening’s performance was upon him.

The presenter of the show was an old wizard called Bruce, and a young lady called Tessa was helping to co-present. When they greeted Ron he managed a quick grunt before scooting off to attempt to calm his nerves. Normally, of course, he’d have reached for the brandy, but he was under strict orders from Hermione not to touch a drop.

Finally, they were all dressed in their (in Ron’s opinion) ridiculous outfits, made up in thick foundation for the bright lights with their hairstyles coiffed and held rigidly in place with a gallon of hairspray each. All ten couples were nervously hanging around in the green room as the opening notes heralded the start of the show. There was a bit of banter from the presenters before the first couple came on: it was an international Gobstones player, Terence Blackworth and his partner, whose name was Camilla. Ron and Hermione watched nervously on the monitors in the green room as the pair of them performed a Waltz, to great acclaim from the judges. After their performance, they returned to the green room, beaming broadly as they should with a score of 27 points.

“You know what I’m going to do after this?� he whispered to Hermione, trying to keep his voice steady.

“What?� she whispered back, looking nervous herself.

“Go out and get absolutely smashed.�

“You most certainly are not,� Hermione replied, firmly. Ron glanced at her, angrily.

“Since when did you become She Who Must Be Obeyed?� he asked, irritably.

“Since I became your dance partner,� she hissed back. “Don’t you know how much that stuff affects your concentration?�

“That’s why I have boxes of Healey’s Happy Hangover Cure stored in my kitchen,� Ron replied pointedly. “Works a treat, you know, next time you’re drunk I’ll give you a bottle.�

“I don’t drink,� Hermione told him primly.

“Oh, sorry, you never do anything that’s anywhere near related to fun. Come on, Hermione, you’re a dancer. I’ve been through hell this week – and this is what you do for a living?! Live a little.�

“Just because you ‘live’ by getting out of your head every night and sleeping with any piece of skirt that comes your way-“

“Yes, well at least I get some!�

“Excuse me?!�

“Ron, Hermione, you’re up next!� shouted the backstage manager, beckoning them to the edge of the curtain from which they would appear.

“Smile – you’re on camera!� said a small witch with pink cheeks, and Ron forced a smile to his furious face as quickly as possible. Hermione seemed to achieve it with no effort.

“Gods, Ron, try to look happy, not constipated!�

“Shut up, you have no idea how nerve-wracking this is for me,� Ron hissed back, fake grin still plastered to his face. Hermione fell silent. She seemed to be thinking.

“Ron, I-“ she began, but she was interrupted by the announcing of their names by the presenter. A storm of applause greeted them as Hermione quickly grabbed Ron’s hand to give it a quick squeeze, and then led him out onto the dance floor. Ron was slightly stunned – he had just had a big argument with Hermione, and insulted her too, and yet she was still trying to make him feel better and more confident. Sometimes, no, all the time, he just couldn’t work her out.

The opening notes of ‘Love don’t live here anymore’ were played by the orchestra, and Ron began dancing for his life. Well, metaphorically anyway. His brain seemed to be working overtime just trying to remember all the steps, yet something was distracting him. Quite possibly the fact that he was holding Hermione in his arms, just like he’d always dreamed.

After what seemed like an age of twirling around, they gracefully drew into the final pose, to which the crowd began to cheer once more. Ron bowed, looking embarrassed, and Hermione curtseyed, beaming, before they made their way to Bruce and the judges. He stopped, his arms by his sides, but Hermione quickly grabbed them and held both his hands on her shoulders.

“Look happy,� she muttered, moving her lips as little as possible. The fake smile was re-attached.

“I thought it was a good effort,� the first judge said in a slightly bored voice, “but you were rather wooden and clunky.�

“You didn’t seem to be concentrating on the steps too much, and I think your feet ran away with you a couple of times, but there was some good choreography there,� the female judge agreed. The man sitting next to her nodded.

“I think that for one week’s work, it was a tremendous effort,� he said, smiling at the pair of them, “and I think I can sense a bit of chemistry between you already, but you did seem a little tensed up.�

“Yes, try to relax into your lower back more,� the final judge said. “It will give you better turns and make it more gentle and fluid.�

Was that good or bad? Ron couldn’t quite tell. He just wanted to leave the dance floor and get a stiff drink. Finally, after waiting agonisingly to get their score of 21, before leaving the floor.

“Well, that didn’t go so bad, did it?� Ron sighed as soon as they were out of sight of the cameras. Hermione said nothing, she merely gave him a frosty glare.

“Look, I’m sorry for what I said earlier,� Ron sighed. “Can I make it up to you? I’ll take you out for dinner next week?�

“If you think that I’m just going to fall into your lap like all the other girls then you’ve got another think coming!� Hermione replied angrily, pink spots appearing on her cheeks.

“I’m not saying that, I’m just asking you out to dinner next week,� Ron said, trying to keep as calm as possible. She glared at him.

“I’ll see.� The rest of the evening was not pleasant for Ron. Hermione spent it talking to her professional partner, a smarmy guy called Ira, and his partner, while all the other couples were chatting between themselves. Ron was extremely conscious of the fact that he was the only one with no one to talk to. After around 40 minutes of waiting, all the couples were called back to the dance floor for the final result.

Being back on the dance floor meant the fake smile had to make a return. Ron could feel his jaw aching as Hermione held his hands like the other pairs were doing. Instead of being warm and friendly, however, she was gripping his hands in a cold vice-like grip. She still wasn’t pleased with him.

Eight of the ten couples were to be announced as having got through to the next week. Hermione’s grip on Ron’s hands grew tenser and tenser as more and more couples were announced, until finally only Ron and Hermione remained along with one other couple.

“Now,� Bruce was saying, “I’m afraid we’re going to say goodbye to one pair, and I’m afraid that couple is…�

The wait before he announced the names seemed like an eternity to Ron. He could feel Hermione’s hands in his growing tighter and tighter, and he held his breath, hoping, praying, although he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t enjoy the dancing, yet he wanted to carry on with it. He knew it was probably because he wanted to spend more time with Hermione. She’d been gone from his life for 10 years, and had only been back for a week, yet he could feel their old selves, the ones that had spent so much time together as children. He hoped that he could maybe get her to feel something for him, if only he learned to be loving towards her.

“Marlene and Eric!� Bruce cried, and the audience broke into applause for the first couple to leave. Ron, however, was in shock. Hermione had flung her arms round his neck, and he could feel her heart racing. Something within him told him he did not want to put Hermione through all those nerves next week. Something within him made him determined to work as hard as he could that week, and to achieve top marks with the judges for their next dance. He was not going to risk being voted off next week.

“There’s a lot to be said for self-delusionment when it comes to matters of the heart� – Diane Frolov and Andrew Schneider


“This week’s dance is the Jive,� Hermione told Ron on the first Monday back in the dance studio. “It’s kind of like rock and roll – you know what rock and roll is, don’t you?�

“Put it this way, Hermione, if it’s a Muggle dance, then the answer’s no, if it’s a wizard dance, the answer’s still no. So what’s the chances of me saying yes?� Ron said sourly. Hermione still had not mentioned his invitation to dinner.

“Alright, alright. What’s got your goat, latest little tart won’t jump into bed with you?� Hermione replied derisively. Ron said nothing, he merely glared at his reflection in the wall length mirrors. He’d had to put up with Heavenly-Paige’s constant whinings for him to take her back, that they could work things out, that she could change.

“Anyway, the jive started in the 1920s, and soon became known as a dance for younger dancers. Older adults disapproved of it and tried to ban it from dance halls, claiming Jive was non-progressive and disturbed other dancers who were progressing anti-clockwise around the floor. It was bought to Europe by American G.I.'s during WW2 but was danced underground due to its ‘Corrupting Influence’,� Hermione explained while Ron pretended to listen politely.

“This is one of the Latin dances,� Hermione continued. “And it’s very fast with lots of sharp actions. There’s lots of kicks and flicks and stuff. I thought the music we could use this week is Jailhouse Rock, by Elvis Presley. Heard of him?� The raised eyebrow on Ron’s face told her that no, Ron had never heard of the King of rock and roll. She supposed she should have guessed he wouldn’t have.

“The hold for the Latin dances is much looser and freer,� Hermione told him, grabbing his arms to demonstrate. Ron had not forgotten his promise to himself to make it through this week, and so did not complain.

Ron soon learnt over the next few days that if he had thought the waltz was difficult, he’d had another think coming. The jive was so much faster, with much more complicated footwork, even to the point where Hermione decided to get their costumes made early, so they could get used to them and make sure there were no problems with skirts or anything. She had explained to Ron about how, during her first professional competition, her heel had caught in her jive skirt and torn half of it off, as well as making her stumble to the floor and end up disqualified. Ron wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be sympathetic to this, so he settled for what he hoped was a understanding grin.

So it was that, two days before Saturday’s performance, Hermione entered the studio with a large cardboard box in her arms. Ron opened it to discover yet another horrifying outfit. He had a sleeveless shirt in bright mid green, along with a bright blue tie covered in – sequins. His trousers (again with stirrups) had a blue stripe of sequins down the outside of each leg. He held them up, looking sickened.

“Hermione, I thought I warned you about horrific costumes?� he said angrily. He glanced at Hermione’s dress that she was now wearing.

“How come your outfits are always alright?� he asked indignantly. Hermione’s dress was bright green fading to a bright blue skirt, which was quite short and spun out when she twirled around. The top section had blue straps and blue ribbons criss-crossing, and her dress also had sequins on.

“Oh, come on, Ron, it’s not that bad. At least you haven’t got frills this week,� she pointed out, although she was attempting to stop a grin. “Go and put them on, I’m sure you’ll like them once you’re wearing them.� As Ron departed to get changed into his shocking outfit, Hermione broke into laughter.

“I can hear you, you know!� Ron bellowed angrily from outside the door. He returned inside and Hermione lost control – she bent over double from laughing so much.

“You look very, er, dashing, Ron,� she giggled, gasping for breath.

“I look like I’m on the turn!� Ron yelled back, his ears going red. “I’m not wearing this.�

“You are too,� Hermione told him firmly, her giggles subsiding. “And I don’t want to hear another word of complaint. Now, let’s practise.�

~~*~~

Ron was gradually learning to fear Saturday nights. By that Friday night he was sitting amid pizza boxes on his living room floor, bottle in hand, watching some shopping channel, in which a very seedy looking wizard was trying to flog a ‘real’ gold watch. A sound at his front door made him look up sharply, but upon thinking about it, decided that he really couldn’t be bothered to go and see if it was burglars. They could take what they liked, he could afford more. He returned to the TeleWizion.

“Ronald Weasley, how can you live in a pigsty like this?!� Ron groaned. It was Hermione.

“Because I am a bloke, I like mess, and because I’m lazy. Is that enough for you?� he replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“No. Scourgify!� Hermione waved her wand at the mess, making pizza boxes soar into the bin and bottles fly into an empty cardboard box.

“Hey!� Ron shouted. “That was my mess!�

“I’m sure you will manage to recreate the look in no time,� Hermione said pointedly, sitting down on the floor next to him. “And I thought I told you no alcohol?� She pulled the bottle from his hand and put it in the box with the other empty bottles.

“I learnt long ago, Hermione, if I want to survive in this world then I don’t listen to you. If I did I’d be in an asylum by now.�

“Well, if you want to survive this weeks contest then you’d better start listening to me,� Hermione told him shrewdly. “Oh my goodness, it’s Bagman!� Sure enough, Ron now recognised the seedy wizard to be none other than Ludo Bagman.

“Ha! Look at him! He looks like a wreck!�

“Remind you of anyone?� Hermione said under her breath.

“Hey, I’m better off than he is!� Ron said, indignantly. “He looks like he hasn’t had any in years!�

“Is that all you think about?� Hermione asked, angrily. “Is there nothing else in the world that you value? Or is life all about seeing how many girls you can do before you die, is that it?�

“You know nothing about my life!� Ron retorted heatedly. “You walked out of my life for 10 years! Now you come waltzing back in and decide you need to sort out my life for me!�

“I don’t want to see you throwing your life away! You’ve got so much to give and living like this is just going to make your life disappear!�

“My life disappeared the night you walked away from me!� Ron shouted. Then he realised what he’d said.

“What did you say?� Hermione asked in a whisper.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter now anyway,� Ron muttered mulishly.

“If it doesn’t matter then why won’t you talk to me about it?� Hermione said quietly.

“Because there’s no point,� Ron replied, stubbornly. “It’s over. It’s not going to change.�

“Look, Ron,� Hermione began, going pink. “I did like you too. But you never said anything about how you felt. Granted, neither did I. We were both too close-minded and obstinate to do anything about it. But I’ve got my life sorted now. I would give up everything for you. If you must know I, I’ve got a boyfriend. I love him, but not as much as I used to love you. You don’t have a girlfriend, do you?�

“No, not at the moment, but you’d just dump him, for me?!� Ron asked, astonished. Was this the same Hermione Granger he’d gone to school with?�

“It’s almost like I’ve been waiting for you to come back into my life,� Hermione said softly, almost more to herself. “I’ve put him off for so long, and now I know why.� Ron stared at her. She stared at him. Perhaps it was from the days he’d spent watching her as a teenager, but there was something familiar about the way she was looking at him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was… something.

She was moving closer and, without meaning to, so was he.

A sudden noise made them start and turn around. As Ron saw who had entered, he cursed her silently for her timing. He watched Hermione’s face grow slightly pink with anger, and her eyes became cold and hard. Standing in the doorway was a tall skinny girl, with long, bleached blonde hair and very blue eyes. She was wearing a short lycra dress and very high heels. Heavenly-Paige.

“Ronnie!� she exclaimed. “I’ve been dying to see you again!�

“Hermione,� Ron began, as she got to her feet.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Ron,� Hermione said coldly, sweeping past Heavenly-Paige and slamming his front door behind her.

“Curse you, woman!� Ron bellowed at Heavenly-Paige, who batted her eyelashes, confused. “What are you doing here?�

“I came to see you, pumpkin,� she replied, in a pathetic, hurt voice. “You haven’t replied to any of my messages. Did you get them all?�

“YES!� Ron yelled. “I got them! All of them! All 23 of them! Did you not get the message that I didn’t want to see you again?!�

“But Ronnie,� Heavenly-Paige began.

“Don’t call me Ronnie!� Ron shouted. “Just get out of here and don’t come near me again or I’ll get a restraining order put on you! Now do you get the message?� Heavenly-Paige blinked stupidly at him, before turning and shuffling away. Frustrated, Ron kicked his sofa hard, achieving nothing but pain. He had been so close to getting together with Hermione. She had been willing to give up everything. He had promised her, truthfully, that he didn’t have a girlfriend, and now she thought he’d lied to her. He’d had that one opportunity to give his life some meaning, to bring something of worth into it, to make it complete in the way that only Hermione could.

He somehow didn’t think he’d ever get the opportunity again.

“Love is everything it’s cracked up to be… It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for.� – Erica Jong

Ron was quickly learning to associate Saturday nights with a tense silence-filled gap between him and Hermione. The day’s rehearsals went well: he remembered all his steps and even got through the dress rehearsal in front of all the other contestants while wearing his sequined outfit, without complaining once. Yet Hermione had not said a word to him for the whole day. He knew he had hurt her: she had been on the brink of giving up everything for him, and now thought that he had lied to her. She just didn’t realise that he was prepared to do the same for her.

He and Hermione were dancing last this week. They sat nervously throughout the evening, while the other couples performed and were awarded their marks, before finally the floor manager pulled them up to wait behind the curtain once more. Hermione still said nothing to Ron, instead he merely stood there with his fake grin plastered to his face, hoping it was successfully hiding the torment he was feeling inside.

This jive was going to go well, it had to go well. If it didn’t, he might get voted out and then he’d never see Hermione again. He needed at least one more week to make her talk to him again. He couldn’t leave it like this.

And then they were out on the dance floor, and their music began. Ron worked furiously to keep his feet going and keep his smile on his face. It looked to be no effort for Hermione, but she would not look him directly in the face. He felt like he was dancing with someone he didn’t know, someone who was there because she had to be, and not because any part of her wanted to be. All too soon the dance was over, and they were waiting by the judges table once more, nervously awaiting the results. Hermione did not take Ron’s hands this week, and they fell limply by his sides instead.

“All the steps were secure,� the first judge began, looking in interest at Hermione, who was smiling quite weakly and looking more at the floor than at him, “but there was something lacking there, I don’t know what it was, but-“

“There wasn’t any connection,� the next judge added, and the others nodded. “It seemed like you’d had this enormous row and were only dancing because you had to.� The judges laughed but Ron shifted nervously from foot to foot.

“Again there was some good choreography, but I think what it comes down to is that your heart just wasn’t in it.�

“I don’t think that’s entirely true,� the head judge interrupted. “I think neither of their hearts were in it: Ron, I think you were probably thinking of what steps to do!� Ron gave a mute nod, not trusting himself to say anything. He and Hermione waited for their final score (23) before returning to the middle of the floor to await the results.

It did not take long to count up the public vote, and after only five minutes, the nine couples had been reduced to just two once more. Unfortunately, Ron and Hermione were once again in the final two. Ron closed his eyes. Please, God, he prayed, don’t leave it like this. If we go out this week, Hermione will walk away from me again, and I’m not going to get another chance. Please don’t let it end like this.

“The second couple to leave Strictly Come Dancing is,� Bruce cried, and a drum roll sounded… “Craig and Anastasia! Bad luck, you two, but well done to Ron and Hermione!� Ron was so dumbfounded and overjoyed that he fell to his knees in shock. The audience were laughing but Ron simply could not find the strength to stand up. He’d done it. He had another chance. He was going to fight for Hermione, and he was going to make sure that he won this time.

He was so busy thinking that he didn’t see a hand extended towards him. Looking up, he saw Hermione looking down at him, tears in her eyes and small smile on her face. He took her hand and she pulled him up.

“We did it, Hermione!� was all he could say.

“Yeah,� she said, in a quiet but happy voice. “We did. Well done.� She turned to go offstage, but Ron called her back.

“Hermione! Erm, I’m sorry about what happened yesterday,� he began, awkwardly. “About Heavenly-Paige, I mean, I wasn’t seeing her, honestly. She came round to try and patch things up, but I didn’t want to know, I sent her packing afterwards, honestly…� his voice trailed off. Hermione was still smiling, but a tear trickled its way down her cheek.

“It’s ok, Ron. It doesn’t matter now,� she said, quietly.

“D’you, er, want to go out for that meal yet?� Ron asked hopefully. He could tell by her face what the answer was. She didn’t look angry, but there was a firm resoluteness set in her face.

“I’m sorry, Ron,� she told him. “But from now on, our relationship is strictly ballroom. That’s all.�

“But I’ve said I’m sorry! I’d give up everything for you, Hermione, I swear I would!�

“It’s too late, Ron,� she said, more tears falling. “I… My boyfriend asked me to marry him. He’s asked me a couple of times before but I said no, but this time, I said yes. I’m sorry.� And with that she left the dance floor. Ron felt like he’d seen this scene once before.

~~*~~

Ron was angry. He was angry at Heavenly-Paige, angry at the judges, angry at Hermione’s boyfriend… but most of all he was angry with himself for making Hermione walk out again. After the end of the Saturday night show, he hurried to his dressing room, threw his stupid jive outfit into the corner of the room and changed back into his jeans and shirt. Without even going home first, he headed straight for the nearest nightclub he could find, determined to get as wrecked as possible.

The loud noise that hit him when he entered deafened him, and the bright coloured lights blinded him, but he did not care: if anything, he was glad of them. With noisy basses pumping through his head it was difficult to think about Hermione. He pushed his way through to the bar to order the most alcoholic drink he could.

~~*~~

Ron couldn’t be blamed. He hadn’t known what he was doing. It really wasn’t his fault. But the fact remained: he had tried to hit on his own sister.

Of course, he didn’t realise it was her; he was so wasted he couldn’t tell a lamppost from a person, but when, through some amazing stroke of luck, Harry and Ginny had turned up at the same club, he had tried to chat up Ginny while she waited for Harry to return from the bar. And now he was lying sprawled on the sofa in their front room, watching the sun rise while his head throbbed and he felt mortally embarrassed at what he had done.

“Morning, Ron!� Ginny said cheerfully as she swept into the room with a tray of breakfast for him. “Did you sleep well?�

“Oh yeah,� Ron grunted hoarsely. “Fantastic. Look, Gin, I can’t apologise enough for some of the things I said to you last night. I didn’t realise it was you, and, well.� He broke off, his ears bright red. Ginny laughed.

“You’re just lucky I realised it was you,� she said, pointedly, sitting down next to him on the sofa. “If I hadn’t told Harry who it was, you’d have a nice black eye right now.�

“I should apologise to him too,� Ron muttered, groaning.

“Never mind about him, he found it hilarious once he found out what was going on. Anyway, he’s more concerned about you.� Ron looked at his younger sister, and saw worry blazing in her warm brown eyes.

“Concerned about me?� Ron asked. “Why?�

“Because you go out every week, almost everyday, and drink yourself stupid,� Ginny said gently. “You’re not yourself. It seems like you’re trying to drink yourself to death. You made the papers again with your performance last night.�

“It’s not my fault this time,� Ron muttered mulishly. He explained everything to Ginny, all about Hermione, and Heavenly-Paige, and Hermione’s boyfriend. Fiancé. And all the time he spoke, his little sister watched him quietly. She didn’t like the way Ron lived his life, and for months now had been constantly worried about him and his health. She wanted the old Ron back, the older brother who she would always look up to. But now he seemed like an empty shell.

“You really love Hermione, don’t you?� she asked quietly when he had finished. Ron paused, and then nodded defeatedly.

“Fat lot of good it’s done me,� he sighed.

“If you really do love her as much as you say you do,� Ginny said, slowly, “then I believe that you won’t give up on her. Work at it. Win her back. Even if you have to gatecrash the wedding, you can get her back. If you love her so much, and I honestly believe that you do, then fight for her. Don’t let her walk away again. Go back and find her, and win her heart.�

“You really think it’ll work?� Ron asked, doubtfully.

“I don’t know,� Ginny told him, sensibly. “But it’s worth a try, isn’t it? Better to try now, or you might just end up regretting it forever.�

“When someone allows you to bear his burdens, you have found deep friendship.�

That weekend Ron did something he had never done before. He cleaned his flat. From corner to corner in every room he washed, cleaned and dusted, until by late Sunday evening the apartment was unrecognisable. There was not a beer bottle in sight: empty or otherwise, although Ron hung onto a box of Hangover Cure. Just in case.

He was so determined to start afresh and make things up with Hermione that he arrived at the dance studios ten minutes earlier than usual, and practically skipped up the stairs into the studio. Finding it empty, he threw back the curtains at the windows and opened wide the windows, letting sunlight stream forth into the room. He was just practising his turns with an imaginary partner when a small cough from the door made him start.

“Looking good, Ron,� Hermione said, grinning. “Who’s a better dancer, me or your imaginary girl?�

“Oh, I don’t know,� Ron grinned back sheepishly, pretending to be thinking hard. “It’s a very hard call, that one.� Hermione shook her head, laughing. Ron beamed still further at making her smile.

“So, what dance are we doing this week?� Ron asked Hermione, eagerly. “I can’t wait, I’ve been looking forward to it.� Hermione looked suspicious.

“Really?� she asked sceptically. “You know, Ron, if you want to talk about the whole getting married thing, then-“

“Oh, no, it’s cool. Really, I’m happy for you. You deserve to be with him if he’s the one. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.� Hermione was still scrutinising him closely.

“Yes, well, I suppose,� she muttered, more to herself than to him. After a brief moment, she seemed to return to herself and was businesslike once more. “Right, this week we’re doing the Tango. Have you heard of it?�

“Of course,� Ron replied indignantly, although he had secretly been brushing up on his ballroom vocabulary over the weekend, to further impress Hermione. “It was a dance for lonely Argentinean peasants. The gauchos of Argentina wore chaps that hardened from the foam and sweat of the horse's body, causing them to walk with flexed knees. At night they would go to crowded night clubs and ask ladies of the night to dance but since the gaucho hadn't showered, the lady would dance in the crook of the man's right arm, holding her head back. Her right hand was held low on his left hip, close to his pocket, looking for a payment for dancing with him.� Hermione stared, her mouth slightly open.

“Erm, yes, that’s right but – how did you know all that?�

“Doesn’t everybody?� Ron asked with a maddening smile. Hermione had clearly been caught off guard.

“Well, er, I suppose, but anyway, the steps, yes, um-“

“The Tango is a very emotional dance, and there should be lots of clipped movements, with staccato action and lots of sharp head turnings and stops. It has a different hold which is tighter and there should be no rise and fall. It is as very flat dance, and therefore the knees are always slightly bent,� Ron recited, parrot fashion. Hermione was plainly gob smacked. Ron saw his opportunity and went for it. “I found a song we could dance to as well, it’s very good and full of, er, passion,� he added, his ears reddening slightly.

Turning away from Hermione, he hurried to the CD player she had left by the door and put Ginny’s CD into it. Immediately the strains of ‘Roxanne’ began to play through the room. He turned back to find Hermione staring at him intensely.

“Are you sure everything’s alright, Ron?� she asked slowly.

“Oh yes,� Ron replied, grinning happily. “Never better.�

They spent the rest of the day learning their routine, and to Ron’s surprise, he picked up the steps a lot quicker and easier. Perhaps it was because of his newfound enthusiasm, but he didn’t find the dancing quite so difficult this week. In fact, he was almost enjoying it, so much so, that he offered to collect the costumes from the store cupboard at the top of the building at the end of the day, but Hermione just laughed and told him to go home.

As he pushed open the front door of the studios to blinding sunlight, he inhaled a great breath after a proper hard day’s work. His nostrils filled with the scent of trees and fresh air and – smoke? Ron sniffed again. Yes, something was definitely burning. Cautiously, Ron stepped forward and glanced at the buildings around, but he caught no sign of fire. He hurried to the end of the street and looked further, but still saw nothing. Perhaps someone had a bonfire going, and that was what he could smell.

Ron turned back around and his gaze was drawn to something high above him, something bright against the cool blue of the sky, and in that moment he forever after believed that his heart actually turned over. He now saw the source of the smoke – it was issuing in thick clouds from the top of the dance studios, filling the sky with an old foggy gloom contrasting against the bright red flickering flames of the fire. He began to sprint as fast as he could back towards the building, barrelled through the doors and pelted up the stairs. The smell of the smoke had not reached the lower levels yet, although Ron could not understand why the fire alarms were not ringing. He ran up flight after flight of stairs, not concentrating on anything except the fact that Hermione was at the top of that building in the store cupboard full of costumes.

When he finally reached the top level, he could hardly see, for the smoke was thick and black. He bent his head and battled through, and realised that the fire itself was in an old boiler room of sorts that was next to the store cupboard. So far it seemed to be the only room in flames, but he knew it wouldn’t last long. He could hear someone calling out for help and kenw it was Hermione.

Ron pulled his jacket over his nose and mouth and kicked the door to the store cupboard open to see Hermione on the floor trying to escape the smoke, and coughing furiously. Her face was dark and ashen and she could hardly speak, but Ron pulled her to her feet.

“Come on!� he yelled hoarsely, “we’ve got to get out of here!� He half led, half dragged Hermione from the room and together they ran down the flights of stairs, as the smoke began to thin as they reached the lower levels. They stumbled out of the building into the clean air outside, where a large crowd was gathering to stare at the burning building. Sirens could be heard from far away as fire crews sped to the scene, but Ron concentrated in getting Hermione over to a bench so she could sit down. Her face was still blackened, and her breathing shallow, but she smiled at him.

“Don’t speak,� he told her, when she opened her mouth. “Come on, let’s get you to St Mungo’s. Are you alright to Apparate?� Hermione paused, then nodded, and the two of them Disapparated from the scene and appeared in a small backstreet in London. The pair of them sneaked their way to Purge and Dowse, and made their way into the magical hospital.

Half an hour later found Ron and Hermione cleaned up and Hermione lying in a clean white hospital bed. She was to stay the night for observation, although it seemed that the worst of her smoke inhalation had been prevented by Ron’s rescue. Now Ron was sitting by her side in the hospital, and the pair of them were lamenting about losing their dance studios.

“We’ll have to practise our routine at my house,� Hermione was saying. “We’ve got a small studio in our basement, that’ll have to do.�

“Will your boyfriend be alright with that?� Ron asked quietly. Hermione looked at him, puzzled.

“Of course, but – why wouldn’t he?�

“Oh, no reason,� Ron said, hurriedly. “Just thought he might not like me invading your home.�

“Well, he won’t be there when we practise, or else he might object. He can get a bit, odd, about that kind of stuff,� Hermione said quietly, staring at her hands.

“What d’you mean?� Ron asked, confused.

“Oh, he just doesn’t always like me dancing. You know, because you have to hold your partner close, and he can get quite jealous and, well, possessive. But that won’t be a problem anymore, once we’re married.�

“Why not?� Ron asked. “Surely it’d just get worse if you’re husband and wife?�

“Oh, erm, he asked me if I’d marry him on one condition,� Hermione mumbled. “After we’re married I’m going to give up dancing. Because it gets him so riled sometimes, you know. I mean, it’s for the best.�

“What are you talking about?� Ron said, bewildered. “You love dancing! It’s your life! You gave up your whole magical career just so you could be a dancer. Do you love him more than dancing?�

“Well,� Hermione muttered, “I don’t have much choice, do I?� Ron stared at her.

“Of course you have a choice! You don’t have to give up your dream because he wants you to. Why marry him if you can’t live the life you want to?�

“I want to marry him. If I marry him, then everything will be alright. All the other feelings will go away,� Hermione said hoarsely.

“What other feelings?� Ron asked quietly. Hermione looked at him, thinking.

“The confusion, the decision-making, just – just everything,� Hermione looked tired and sad.

“Before you do anything rash, Hermione, please make sure you are getting exactly what you want and that you are happy. If I could ask you anything, I would ask you to make sure that you choose wisely. I’m still here, you know,� Ron added, staring at her. Hermione lifted her eyes to his, looking deep in thought.

“We’re friends, Ron. Just friends. That’s all we can be. That’s what started this whole mess in the first place.�

That evening Ron left the hospital for his flat thinking hard. Hermione had claimed that the feelings between him and her were what had started ‘this whole mess’. Was she only marrying her boyfriend to stop any feelings she might have for Ron? Was she really willing to give up her dream of dancing just to stop her feelings resurfacing?

However, her relationship with her boyfriend did not seem quite as sturdy as Ron had supposed. Perhaps it would be easier to win her back, Ron surmised. And, when asked whether she loved her boyfriend – Hermione had not replied.

“A love that has not friendship for its base, is like a mansion built upon sand.� – Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Hermione was permitted to leave hospital the next day, but she wasn’t to do any dancing until at least one day’s further bed rest at home. Therefore, Ron did not see Hermione until Wednesday, when all the other couples were well into practising their routine. Added to that, the fact that all their costumes had gone up in flames meant that Ron and Hermione were really behind schedule.

They rehearsed at Hermione’s house, as planned, but Ron noted that whenever they were there, the boyfriend was not. He made no mention of this to Hermione, who had made a full recovery from the fire and was back to her usual bossy self.

“We need a way to make the judges like us this week,� she was muttering. “I suppose the best way is to really project into our dancing, you know, show real, strong emotions. But how are we going to do that?�

“We could put a story behind it,� Ron suggested enthusiastically. “It could be like, some hidden love or something, and then at the end, they realise who each other are.� Hermione stared at him, and then burst into peals of laughter.

“You don’t know how weird it is to hear Ronald Weasley making a statement like that,� she giggled. Ron looked rather put out.

“Well you think of a better one then!� he retorted, irritably. Hermione laughed and put a placating hand on his arm.

“No, it’s quite good really. We can have character names and everything, and then you’ll feel more in the dance, won’t you?�

“Uh…� Ron replied, dumbly.

“Ok, I shall be, um, Roxanne, you know, from the song, and you shall be,� Hermione paused, searching for a Spanish name, “Carlos!�

“Carlos?!� Ron spluttered. “Carlos?!�

“I think it suits you,� Hermione told him teasingly. “Anyway, we were going to have red costumes, so we need to sort out some replacements. I’ve got an old red dress somewhere, do you have a red shirt?�

“Er, possibly,� Ron replied, making a mental note to go out and buy a red shirt as quickly as possible.

“We’ll borrow some dance trousers from Ira, and then we just have to jazz up your shirt a bit.�

“No glitter,� Ron said quickly. “I’m allergic to the stuff.� Hermione laughed again.

“Ok, fine, no glitter. But we’ll add some black piping or something, anything to make it look more jazzy.�

~~*~~

By Saturday night ‘Carlos’ was standing in the wings once more with newly jazzy shirt and sweaty palms. He was getting used to dancing in front of thousands of viewers at home, and in front of the judges, but tonight was different. He was dancing in front of his best friend. Harry had come to watch – and mock. Ron knew he was never going to live this down, even thought part of him kept reminding himself that Harry had seen all the shows on TeleWizion. Even so, no guy wants to be prancing around in dance trousers and flaming red shirt in front of his best mate.

“Nervous?� Hermione asked, slipping her hand in his. Ron gulped and nodded, he couldn’t speak.

“You two are on next,� the floor manager told them. “Smile for the camera.�

Ron was determined to get through with flying colours this week. The judges were going to like him. They had to.

“I brought an extra prop for the dance,� Hermione said suddenly. “It’s just a red mask, I found it when I was looking for my dress. I’m going to wear it through the dance, and then you take it off at the end, as if you’ve ‘found’ me, alright?�

“Righto,� Ron said hoarsely. “Take off mask, got it.�

“But not until the very end,� Hermione told him sternly. “Come on, we’re on.�

Ron led the way out, Hermione following behind. They took up their positions on the floor, back to back, and Ron felt Hermione putting the mask on.

The music started, and Ron began to dance. A few bars of solo violin, while Ron and Hermione mirrored each others’ movements while still back to back.

As the first chord struck, they spun around simultaneously to take up their tango position. And Ron nearly yelled out loud in shock.

He had seen that mask before. And the eyes that were shining through it.

Hermione was his mystery girl.

And he couldn’t believe it. He stood stock still for a split second, before remembering where he was, and he continued his dancing. All the while he stared at Hermione, watching her eyes as they watched him. He felt something in the dance that he had not felt in any of the others, but he knew that something had changed.

The music drew to a close, and Ron slowly brought his hand to Hermione’s face, to pull off the mask, to do what he had wanted to do ever since meeting the mystery girl.

Underneath the mask was a smiling face, with pink cheeks, and those bright, shining eyes. Ron couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Hermione led him over to the judges’ table, and he noticed, rather uneasily, that they were sitting there in stunned shock. Had he really been that bad?

“That was,� the first judge said slowly, “absolutely beautiful. Practically perfect. What an amazing transformation!�

“I completely agree,� said the next judge, nodding happily. “There was a real passion and drive behind that, and you were certainly not wooden this week!�

“It amazes me that it takes the burning down of your studio and the hospitalisation of your partner for you to finally dance like a professional!� laughed the third judge. “Something has changed about you, although I’m not sure what.�

“That was without a doubt one of the best dances of the series so far,� the final judge told them, smiling.

They received their score of 33 and left the stage to rapturous applause, both of them elated and beaming happily.

“We did it, Ron!� Hermione squealed, throwing her arms around him.

“Well, we have to wait for the public to vote first, dear,� Ron reminded her, reddening.

~~*~~

They needn’t have worried about the public vote: for the first time in the series, they were kept in straightaway.

“D’you want to go and celebrate?� Ron asked, his arm around Hermione’s shoulders. She looked at him suspiciously.

“No alcohol involved, I promise,� he told her, solemnly. He led the way out of the studios and all the way through the streets to the beach. Walking along the pier, licking chocolate ice creams and still in their dancing costumes, Ron turned to Hermione.

“So, when’s the wedding?� he asked. Hermione looked startled.

“Sorry?�

“When are you getting married?� he asked, slowly, but grinning.

“Oh, um, in about two months or so, Alex said,� Hermione told him.

“That was quick,� Ron muttered. “So, can I come?�

“Well, er, yes, I suppose so,� Hermione said, puzzled.

“Only two more months of dancing then?� Ron fired at her. “You must be looking forward to chucking it all in for your boyfriend.�

“Ron, that’s my decision, not yours,� Hermione reminded him quietly. “Besides, it’s not just what I want that I have to think about.�

“Yes, I agree, but you do have to take it into account, it’s important for you to be happy, you know,� Ron said firmly. “If you don’t want to give up dancing, and I know you don’t, then tell Alex that.�

“How do you know I don’t?� Hermione asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Hermione, I know you better than anyone. Trust me, I know you don’t want to give up dancing,� Ron told her, finishing her ice cream. “But, like you said – it’s your decision.�

“If you limit your choices only to what seems possible or reasonable, you
disconnect yourself from what you really want, and all that is left is a
compromise,� – Robert Fritz

As they walked back down the pier, neither of them spoke, but neither of them
needed to. Hermione knew what Ron had said was right, and Ron knew that Hermione
believed him. Wondering if this might be his opportunity to share his evening’s
revelation with Hermione, Ron tried to decide what would be best to do.

It might make everything better – but it might make everything worse.

‘If you don’t decide now, Ronald Weasley,’ he thought to himself as they reached
the end of the pier and Hermione turned to say goodnight, ‘then you could regret
this for the rest of your life.’

“Wait here,� he said suddenly, coming to his decision abruptly. “Don’t move.�
And before Hermione had the chance to ask him any questions, he had Apparated to
his flat. Once there, he began searching desperately through the neatly piled
boxes in his closet, searching…

And then he found it. A small plastic bag with something cardboard tucked inside. Holding it tightly in his hand, he Apparated back to the
pier to find Hermione still there, looking suspicious.

“What are you up to, Ron?� she asked impatiently. “And what’s that you’ve got
there?�

“You’ll see,� he told her, grabbing her hand and dragging her back towards the
direction of the TV studios. “You’ll see.�

As they rounded a corner onto the street where the TV studios were, they saw a small café ahead of them. At a small round table outside it, sat
Harry and Ginny sitting and talking. Neither of them had noticed Ron or Hermione
come in, but were deep in discussion. Both of them looked extremely happy.

“Hi!� Hermione called, pulling Ron over to them, as he hastily stuffed the thing
he was holding back in his pocket. Harry and Ginny looked round and waved,
beaming; well, Ginny was beaming, but Harry’s face took on more of a wicked
grin.

“Hey Ron,� he called back, standing up to draw up chairs for them and doing a
mock pirouette in the process. “Nice dancing, mate.�

“Ha ha,� Ron said sourly, sitting down in one of the chairs. “What are you two
looking so happy about anyway?� Ginny opened her mouth, ready to tell all, but
Harry stopped her.

“We can’t tell you just yet, but you’ll find out on Monday night. We’re having a
party to let everybody know, just a little celebration, really.�

“Can’t we tell them now?� Ginny asked stubbornly, her bottom lip protruding ever
so slightly.

“We agreed to wait!� Harry replied, but he was grinning.

“But I want to tell everyone now!� Ginny sighed, resting her head on Harry’s
shoulder. “Fine, I’ll wait until Monday night.�

Ron and Hermione looked at them, puzzled and intrigued.

“Gin, what-“ Ron began, but Hermione cut across him.

“Ginny, are you-“

“Anyway, must be off,� Harry said loudly, cutting Hermione’s question off. “Nice
seeing the dancing Ron,� he added, doing another pirouette. Ron would dearly
have liked to punch him at that moment.

Harry helped Ginny up and the two of them walked out of the bar hand in hand,
still smiling happily. Ron turned to Hermione.

“Do you know what they’re on about?� he asked, pointedly. Hermione’s cheeks went
slightly pink.

“I don’t know for sure,� she said shiftily. “You’ll find out on Monday, but I
won’t tell you what I think, just in case I’m wrong.� Ron snorted.

“You? You’re never wrong,� he told her, putting his arm round her shoulders and
leading her towards the studios, which were luckily still open. Hermione sighed.

“Sometimes I am,� she said quietly. Ron made no reply. The ballroom was
mercifully empty, and Ron told Hermione to take off her coat, put on her mask,
and wait in the middle of the floor while he prepared something. When Hermione’s
back was turned, he quickly slipped a CD into the music player, and took the cardboard thing wrapped in plastic out of his pocket.

It was a mask. The mask that Estelle had given him to wear for the Masquerade
Ball. He slipped it on and called to Hermione, “Close your eyes!� She obliged
immediately, and Ron pressed the Play button, before hurrying over to her, and
taking her in his arms. The song ‘Lady in Red’ began softly playing.

“You can open your eyes now,� he told her quietly. She did so, and he saw her
mouth open slightly with surprise at suddenly recognising him.

“It was you?� she asked, finally. “It was you?�

“Yes,� Ron replied. “It was me.�

Neither of them spoke for a very long time, but, once again, neither of them
needed to. They simply moved slowly on the dimly-lit dance floor, while the soft
music filled their ears. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Hermione spoke.

“The music’s finished,� she whispered. Ron nodded.

“That it has,� he replied. Hermione smiled.

“You know, you always made me laugh,� she told him, still not letting go. “And
you’re right. You really do know me better than anyone.�

Ron looked down at her soft brown eyes, and saw the warmth and love in them. And
once again, he was faced with a decision.

He could walk away. He could leave it like this forever, just a happy memory.

Or…

Something in him told him that walking away would be the greatest mistake of his
life. Hermione had walked away from him once before, and he knew that he
couldn’t walk away. Not now. Not after everything.

She was still looking at him.

But what if everything went horribly wrong? This could be the moment he’d been
dreaming about for years – but it could make everything more complicated.

She was still looking at him.

He had to decide.

And, suddenly making up his mind, he bent down and kissed her.


For a moment, he didn’t think at all. In fact, feeling only seemed to return to his body as Hermione pulled sharply away.

“Ron?� she asked. His ears were going red, he could feel them.

“I’m sorry, Hermione,� he apologised in a rush. “That was stupid of me, just… just forget it.� Hermione shook her head.

“It’s not your fault, Ron,� she sighed. “It’s just that, I can’t. Well, not while I’m still with Alex. It’s all confused and messed up, and I have to decide what to do. I’m sorry.�

And Ron watched her walk away from him once more, feeling his heart sinking to the floor.

“We all have big changes in our life that are more or less a second chance� – Harrison Ford

Ron was not looking forward to Monday morning’s dance lesson. He felt mortified by what he had done. He couldn’t believe that he had been so stupid. Therefore he wasn’t surprised when Hermione turned up looking equally sheepish, with a large box in her arms.

“Morning,� she said, trying to act as if nothing had happened.

“Morning,� Ron mumbled. It was a mark of how embarrassed he felt that he didn’t protest when Hermione showed him his outfit for the Samba: an all-in-one lycra jumpsuit style thing, complete with thousands of sequins, ruffled chest and all in the most disgusting shade of violent yellow.

“No complaints?� Hermione said with a small smile. Ron merely shrugged.

“It won’t change anything,� he muttered. Hermione stared.

“The costume, I mean, it doesn’t matter if I don’t like it, I don’t really have a choice,� Ron hastened to explain. “In the costume,� he added lamely. Hermione was still looking at him, and didn’t take her eyes off him for a long time.

“I asked Alex to postpone the wedding,� she said finally, in little more than a whisper. Ron jerked his head up to look at her, open-mouthed. Did this mean…?

“Was that alright with him?� he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Well, he wasn’t happy about it, but he’s agreed. I said that it wasn’t his fault, but that I just had to straighten a few things out. I told him getting married is such a big deal, and I don’t want to rush into it. And when I say I’ve got to straighten a few things out, I guess what I really mean is,� she looked Ron steadily in the eye, “we’ve got to sort things out.�

Ron gulped.

“I’m sorry,� he said hurriedly. “I was just…� but Hermione shook her head.

“Like I said, it wasn’t your fault. Look, you remember that night when I came round to yours, and the blonde plastic girl came round for you?�

“Heavenly-Paige?� Ron said, nodding.

“If she was more plastic than skin, then yes, it was her,� Hermione replied, grinning. Ron muttered something along the lines of, “that doesn’t narrow it down.�

“Anyway,� Hermione continued. “Moving off the subject of your synthetic girlfriends’ assets, you remember how I told you that I’d liked you at school?�

“Of course you liked me at school, we were friends,� Ron said, puzzled. His memory wasn’t as good as Hermione’s and, although he remembered the conversation taking place, he wasn’t entirely sure of what had been said. This bit seemed to be the part he thought he’d dreamt.

“That I’d liked you in That Way,� Hermione said, irritated, flushing slightly. “Well, those feelings never really went away, no matter how much I tried to make them. Even though I’m with Alex, and I love Alex, I really do, I can’t stop thinking about you. And even though I don’t believe in fate,� she scoffed, and Ron recalled a rather frazzled teenage girl storming out of a Divination class in third year, “it seems too strange to be true that we’ve ended up together again like this. What do you think?�

“I guess…� Ron said slowly, wondering if this was going to be good news, or whether she was building up to let him down gently.

“Well,� Hermione pressed on, rather irritated at his lack of involvement in this conversation, “I’ve put off my wedding to decide what I really want to do. Because, at school, I never felt like I had a chance with you, not when everything was hectic with Harry and everything. And then, when I walked out, I thought I’d given up my chance of ever being with you. But now, you’re back in my life, and you’ve turned it on its head. And part of me can’t help feeling like this is my second chance, Ron,� she finished desperately. “Oh, say something!� she snapped, as he sat there musing in silence.

“What if this was your second chance?� he asked her, finally. “You know how I feel. I understand what you’re saying, and I know that your situation’s difficult, but something will have to be done about it sometime, and you are the one who is going to have to make the choice, Hermione. I can’t do it for you.�

“I know that,� Hermione sighed.

“What would you do if you decided that this was your second chance?� Ron asked her. She thought for a very long time.

“If I knew, properly knew, that this thing with you was for real, and that it wouldn’t slip away from me again, and if, somewhere inside me, I knew that I feel more for you than Alex, then I couldn’t go through with the wedding, and I would have to leave Alex.�

“And if you felt more for Alex than me?� Ron asked quietly. She glanced away. He knew what the answer would have been.

“There’s something inside me, telling me what I should do, but I can’t understand it,� Hermione said, crossly. Ron grinned wryly.

“That’s your heart, Hermione,� he told her. “You’re too used to thinking with your head, that you’ve never bothered to listen to your heart. Now me, I don’t have that problem,� he said proudly, tapping himself on the forehead. Hermione snorted.

“That’s because you never think with your head, Ron Weasley,� she said, smacking his arm.

“What a pair we are,� Ron said, laying back on the floor. Hermione lay down next to him. There was a pause.

“How exactly does one listen to one’s heart?� Hermione asked.

* * *

“Will we be expected to dance?� Ron shouted to Hermione, as they entered Harry and Ginny’s house, greeted by loud music.

“Yes, Ron, it’s part of the job description of being a dancer,� Hermione called back. “Always be prepared to be forced to dance at any party.�

And sure enough, within minutes Ginny had dragged them up to the dancefloor in the middle of the lounge, where all the furniture had been stacked against the walls.

“At least you won’t make a fool of yourself dancing now you’ve had some training,� Hermione muttered to Ron, as they whirled around to whoops and clapping.

“What do you mean?!� Ron replied, indignantly. “I’ve never made a fool of myself dancing!�

“First lesson with me seems to contradict that statement,� Hermione told him, grinning wickedly.

“Now that is just unfair!� Ron protested. “I’m sure you were rubbish in your first lesson!�

“Ron, I was five in my first lesson, and I danced better than you did,� Hermione teased him.

“How dare you,� Ron replied, shaking his head. “The nerve of it…�

The song finished and so did Ron and Hermione, who attempted to make their way back into the crowd and out of the limelight. As they did so, however, a slow, romantic song came on. Ron groaned, as all the people around them paired up, completely blocking their way to a table to sit down.

“Excuse me, look could you just, fine, get in the way, now really!�

“Ron, stop making a fuss,� Hermione muttered to him. “Come on, we’ll dance this one, then we might be able to get out.�

Reluctantly, Ron put his arms around Hermione’s waist while she slipped hers over his shoulders. Ron felt distinctly awkward, but Hermione seemed to be enjoying herself.

“You know,� she said, “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About listening to my heart. And you’re right. The subjects I’ve always failed in: flying, Divination, have all been stuff that you just can’t learn out of a book. And, much to my disappointment, you can’t learn about love in a textbook.�

“Did you try?� Ron asked, grinning.

“No!� Hermione replied defensively. “Well, ok, just once. Completely useless it was too. But there is no book anywhere that tells a girl what to do when she loves two guys. Or rather, when two guys love her.�

“So what has your heart been telling you?� Ron asked her.

“It’s been telling me all sorts of things that I never knew before,� Hermione explained. “I love you because you love me for me. I love the way your hair is never tidy. I love the way you’re prepared to listen to me.�

“Yeah well, Harry would do all those things too,� Ron said coyly, wanting to hear more. “How come you don’t love him?�

“Oh, I do love Harry, but as a friend. Because, there’s just something about you, Ron. It’s no one, single thing – it’s just you. What would you say if I asked you why you love me?�

“I love the way you always do what you believe in, and that you always do what’s right,� Ron said, slowly. “And I love the way you believe in me.� Hermione was grinning.

“Harry does all those things for you, too,� she said, smirking. “Do you love Harry too?�

“Hermione, I am not gay!� Ron yelled, at the exact point when the music stopped. Everyone in the room turned to stare. Hermione began to giggle.

“Er, not that I’ve got anything against people who are gay,� Ron hastened to explain to the room. “She just got a bit, er, confused, and…� Hermione, still giggling hysterically, pulled him away out of the limelight, until everyone had turned back to dancing.

“Thanks a lot,� Ron said mulishly. Hermione waited for her giggles to subside, before continuing on with their conversation, and amused smile still dancing around her lips.

“Look, what I was trying to say to you up there was that I feel differently for you than I do for Alex,� she told him. Ron stared at her, wondering which way this conversation would go. At that moment, the music stopped again, and everyone turned to look at Harry and Ginny, who were standing at the front looking very pleased. Ginny looked positively glowing.

“Ladies and gentlemen,� Harry called. “Thanks to you all for coming, we hope you’re enjoying yourselves. Now, following on from my friend Mr Ronald Weasley’s announcement just now,� Harry grinned wickedly as Ron buried his face in his hands, “we would like to make our announcement. Ginny?�

“We’re going to have a baby!� Ginny cried, delightedly, throwing her arms in the air, which was suddenly filled once more with loud cheers. Hermione and Ron forgot their conversation as they went to congratulate their friends.

“It’s great news!� Hermione shrieked, hugging Ginny wildly.

“Yeah, it’s good to know there’ll be some redheaded Potters running around,� Ron grinned, shaking Harry’s hand.

“Yes and, er, good to know you’re not gay,� Harry replied, laughing. Ron hit him, but not too hard.

“Well, have you told him yet?� Ginny asked Hermione quietly.

“Not yet, I’m waiting for things to die down. I don’t want him to make a scene,� Hermione whispered back.

“Hermione, how can he not make a scene? I still can’t believe you’re going to do this, I mean, all his dreams will be-“

“Nice one, Ginny!� Ron beamed, giving his little sister a hug. “Hermione, can we finish our conversation?�

“Er, sure,� Hermione said weakly, and they returned to their table.

“So, you were saying that you feel differently for me than for Alex?� Ron prompted her. Hermione sighed, knowing that this was it.

“I’ve made my decision, Ron,� she said, finally.

“And?�

“And I’m going to call off the wedding.�

“O beware, my Lord, of jealousy! It is the green eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on.� – William Shakespeare, Othello



Ron felt almost as if all his dreams had come true during the remainder of the week. Every morning, Hermione would greet him with a kiss, sometimes just a short peck, sometimes a longer, more meaningful kiss.

Hermione had told Alex that she was calling it off on Monday evening, after Harry and Ginny’s party. That same evening she had turned up back at Harry and Ginny’s door with a large bag, asking meekly for a place to stay.

Ron had been outraged when he’d heard that Alex had thrown Hermione out, and had been all set to storm round to tell him what for. Hermione had only just managed to stop him; trying to persuade him that Alex really wasn’t worth the effort.

“I thought you said you loved him,� Ron had said, frowning. Hermione had merely shrugged, looking rather angry.

“Well, that was before he threw me out and refused to let me go back to get the rest of my stuff,� she said. “I know that it’s not his fault, and I really shouldn’t be angry with him. Anyway, we’ll concentrate on other things for the moment.�

They had a lot of fun learning the samba, an energetic dance which was rumoured to send people into a trance with its wild excitement. It was the annual dance of the Rio carnival and thus, Hermione had chosen a carnival-style Muggle song called ‘Copacabana’ for them to dance to. Now that things were so much less awkward between them, Ron found it much easier to pick up the routines, and Hermione would often comment on how much his dancing technique was improving. However, she was still inclined to giggle whenever he landed flat on his back after tripping over his own feet.

“Who invented stupid ballroom dancing anyway,� he muttered to himself as he got gingerly to his feet again, Hermione in peals of laughter.

“Well, it’s been a Muggle tradition for hundreds of years now, but it’s only recently caught on in the Wizarding World. Antonius Beeduk, a wizard, stumbled across a Muggle dancehall in the late Fifties, and decided to try and introduce it into our world. Of course, all the wizards thought he was crazy and he was taken to St Mungo’s for insanity. But he taught his granddaughter whenever she came to visit him, Erin Pollux, you know, she’s now the Head of the WDC. The Wizarding Dance Committee, Ron,� she sighed when she saw his confused expression. “It still hasn’t become too popular, mind you, but that’s one of the reasons for this show. They’re trying to get more wizards into ballroom dancing. I think they feel that the Wizarding world is too Quidditch orientated.�

“It is not!� Ron said indignantly, but Hermione merely laughed.

“That, my friend, is a matter of opinion. Now, come on, let’s try that turn again. I think you’re starting to get the hang of it.�

Despite Hermione’s encouragement, and her insistence that he would be fine, Ron couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed before going out to perform on Saturday night. The Samba might be a fun dance, but dancing with lots of wiggling, as well as outstretched arms and everything, in front of thousands of viewers and, in particular, in front of his brothers who had come to watch that evening, was not going to be fun. His palms were sweaty as he gripped Hermione’s hand backstage, grinning inanely at the cameras before he went on.

“I hate Antonius Beeduk,� Ron muttered mutinously. “And Erin whats-her-name too.�

“Nervous?� Hermione asked, grinning. Ron nodded and gulped. Hermione stood on tip toe and kissed him gently.

“Don’t be,� she told him, poking him playfully on the arm. “We’ve got chemistry now, Mr Weasley.�

The gesture was exactly what Ron needed to calm him down. His fingers wrapped around hers tighter, and, as their names were called, he felt her squeeze his hand gently, before leading them out to wild applause. After their stunning tango performance, they seemed to be a much more popular couple.

Ron was vaguely aware of some manic cackling coming from the direction of a lot of red-headed wizards, and tried to ignore it, horribly conscious that he was dressed in a lurid yellow Lycra suit. Hermione took both of his hands in hers as the music began to play. Her brown eyes stared into his, and he saw the passion and excitement within them. As he danced around the floor, never taking his eyes off Hermione’s short, bright yellow dress, decorated with red sequins in the shape of a lightning bolt, he felt as though his limbs were on fire, not to mention the hip wiggling action he had going on. Hermione’s feet moved as though they were on hot coals, and finally they came together at the end in a dramatic final pose, to rapturous applause and whistling from the appreciative crowd.

Beaming proudly, Hermione curtsied while Ron bowed, before making their way to the judges for their verdicts.

“Now,� said the presenter, winking at them, “we’ve got a few things to clear up with you two, so don’t go straight away after getting your results.� Ron felt his stomach drop several feet, and felt Hermione’s hand tense slightly in his.

“That was an incredible samba,� the first judge said, clearly shocked. “It seems you’ve finally become professional about the whole thing, and there was real drive and passion behind that routine. Well done.�

“There were definitely sparks flying,� the second judge agreed, nodding appreciatively. “Absolutely amazing.�

“Practically perfect in every way,� the next judge said, looking stunned. “Two weeks in a row, keep this up and you’ll win this competition, no worries.�

“I can only agree with what the others have said,� the final judge said, also nodding. “An incredible achievement.�

To round it all off, they gave Ron and Hermione their highest score yet, of 36, along with the first score of 10 out of 10 in the whole series. Ron glanced down at Hermione’s face and couldn’t help but grin at the wide smile on her face.

“So, we’ve noticed in these recent weeks that you two have become very, er, close,� the presenter was now saying. Ron gulped. His brothers were here, and this was a highly embarrassing conversation to be having in front of them.

“Well, er, yes,� Ron muttered, feeling that he ought to say something. He glanced at Hermione again, and saw her cheeks turning slowly pink.

“Is it true that you’re a couple now?� the presenter asked. Ron swallowed and opened his mouth. No words were coming out. He looked at Hermione, who also seemed to be struggling for a response. He heard a distinct cat call from a redheaded twin, but, thankfully, couldn’t make out what was said. The rest of the room was silent, waiting on tenterhooks for their answer.

“Erm, yes, it’s true,� Ron said finally, stuttering badly. He glanced back at Hermione, muttering, “We are, aren’t we?�

“Yes,� she said quietly, squeezing his hand. The audience, meanwhile, were applauding their delight, and there were definitely some wolf whistles coming from the direction of his family.

Ron’s Mental Note: murder Fred and George in most painful way possible.

Everyone was so delighted, that at first they didn’t notice the man storming onto the dance floor from behind Ron and Hermione. They heard footsteps, and turned round, but before they had registered recognition, Ron was flat on the floor, stars popping before his eyes, the right side of his jaw aching painfully from where the man had hit him.

Hermione screamed and dropped to her knees beside him, helping him to sit up as he gingerly touched his mouth where blood was now dripping down. Ron could hear more screams coming from the crowd, and lots of shouting. The presenter, highly flustered, was trying to keep a grip on things, while his co-presenter was shouting for security.

“He stole my fiancée!� the man was shouting, and Ron looked up to see the livid face of Alex glaring down at him. “He stole her from me!� Ron tried to get up, but Hermione got there first.

“He didn’t steal me from you!� she shrieked at Alex, equally angry. “I chose to leave, Alex, I am, and never was, your possession, and I am a human being capable of making my own choices! And I chose Ron, so you had better get used to that!�

The hall had suddenly become quiet again, as Alex’s furious blue eyes stared into Hermione’s enraged brown ones. He was about to reply, when two large SecuriWizards grabbed hold of him by the arms and hauled him off.

“You’ll pay for this, Weasley!� he yelled back as he was dragged out of the hall. “I’ll make you pay! Nobody makes me look like a fool!�

“You do that all by yourself!� Hermione shouted back, pink spots on her flushed cheeks. Then she turned her attention back to Ron, who was back on his feet now, a dark bruise beginning to form around his swollen lip.

“Are you ok?� she whispered gently, wiping away a trickle of blood.

“I’ve had worse,� Ron joked feebly. “I’ll survive.� They left the stage hurriedly, while the presenter desperately tried to get the show back on track.

“D’you think this will affect our chances of winning?� Ron asked Hermione several minutes later, an ice pack on his face until the MediWizard arrived. “I mean, do you think that viewers will think I really did steal you, and that I’m an evil, engagement-wrecker?�

“I don’t know,� Hermione said quietly, removing the ice pack to see how his swelled face was.

“This is all my fault,� Ron muttered grimly. “Your life was all neatly organised before I came and messed it up for you. And now you won’t even win the competition because of me.�

“Ron, I don’t care about the competition!� Hermione said, earnestly. “All I care about is you. And you’re not the one who showed himself up as violent and jealous. Anybody could see why I chose you, after Alex’s performance. And besides, who wants a neatly organised life? I’d choose a mad and hectic life with you over a dull and predictable life with Alex any day.�

“That’s good to know,� Ron replied, grinning, before stopping hurriedly because it hurt his mouth.

* * *
It turned out that Hermione was right; the incident didn’t damage their voting prospects after all. Nobody dared mention the incident when Ron and Hermione returned to the stage, Ron’s mouth returned to its normal shape and size thanks to the MediWizard. They made their way through to the next round easily and, as the show went off air, Ron turned to Hermione and said, “So, what about that meal I offered you several weeks ago?�

“Not tonight, Ron,� Hermione sighed. “I’m really tired, and I need to get my stuff sorted out at Harry’s.�

“You don’t have to stay there, you know,� Ron told her. “You can stay at my flat; I’ve got a spare room.�

“Thanks, but I don’t want to take this too fast,� Hermione replied. “I mean, it’s still kind of, early days, isn’t it? Let’s just take it slowly from now on.�

“If that’s what you want,� Ron said compliantly, throwing an arm round her shoulders. He suddenly spotted a redheaded clan bearing down on him, and hurriedly whisked Hermione away before he could face their jeers.

Outside, they said goodnight with a brief kiss, before they each Apparated quietly away to their respective abodes. Neither of them noticed the pair of bright blue eyes glaring at them through the darkness, and neither of them knew that the mind behind those eyes was plotting revenge at that very moment.

“When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love� – JK Rowling, Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince




Luna Lovegood had always been a bit, well, eccentric, to put it mildly, but even Ron, previously fully-fledged bachelor man, was surprised that she decided to send out the invitations to her wedding only a week before the actual event. But so she did, and Ron awoke on Monday morning to find a luminescent green invitation on his doormat, with flashing purple and pink writing declaring:

‘Mr Phileas Lovegood is proud to announce the forthcoming wedding of his daughter, Miss Luna Lovegood, to one Mr Colin Anthony Creevey, and would like to invite you, Ronald Weasley, to the occasion, to take place on Tuesday September the 6th, commencing at half past noon at St Ignatius’ Church, Brighton. RSVP ASAP’

Stunned, Ron turned the invitation over to see Luna’s swirling writing:

‘Dear Ronald, I hope you can come, you are so funny, and always make me laugh, except when your jokes aren’t funny, of course. Hope to see you there! Love Luna xx’

Ron couldn’t help but laugh, there really was nobody else like Luna. He scrambled in a drawer for a piece of parchment, dunked his quill in some ink and scribbled, ‘Sure I’ll come, see you Tuesday, looking forward to it! Ron.’ He sent it off and, feeling cheerful, set out for a new week’s dancing.

“Morning,� Hermione greeted him with a beaming face and swift kiss. “Take a look at this, it should lay your fears to rest.� She handed him that morning’s issue of Witch Weekly, Ron glanced over the glossy cover. The moving picture on the front had been taken from Saturday night’s show, and showed Alex, Ron and Hermione. Ron was pleased to see that the photographic Alex was being restrained by SecuriWizards while photographic Ron and Hermione looked on together, holding hands and looking shocked. The cover bore the large shining headline, ‘Jealous Ex-Fiancé Tries To Destroy Golden Couple!’ Ron flicked to the article inside and scanned through it, happy to discover that the reporter was completely on their side, citing Alex as being ‘driven mad by jealousy’.

“Why aren’t they laying into me as an engagement-wrecker?� Ron wondered out loud. Hermione smiled, and pointed at the reporter’s name. Ron stared, then grinned. He supposed that the article would be rather biased if it was written by his sister.

“And now we’ll get on with the dancing,� Hermione said, tossing the magazine aside. “Because there’s not so many couples left, we’re learning two dances this week: the Quickstep, and the Cha Cha Cha. That means twice as much work to do, twice as many steps to learn, and two sets of costumes, so we’ll get started fitting them right away.� She Summoned a large cardboard box with her wand, set it on the floor, and pulled out two dresses. One was very long, in green and yellow with small sleeves, but the other was, in Ron’s opinion, rather too small. It was pink, and while the top half was more of a leotard, with three holes cut into it down the front, but the skirt part was merely strands of material. Hermione shook it as she held it up, so the strands swung about, and grinned up at Ron.

“What’s wrong?� she asked, seeing his less-than-happy expression.

“Nothing,� Ron muttered, feeling his ears going red. “It’s just… well, isn’t that dress a bit… revealing?� He looked at the floor and scratched his neck, avoiding her eyes. Hermione lowered the dress and sighed.

“Ron, it’s a dancing outfit, of course it’s revealing,� she said quietly. “The Cha Cha Cha’s Caribbean, and it’s really fast with lots of turning, which is why this dress is ideal. A dancer’s costume isn’t just thrown together, it has to be considered so as it actually adds to the dance. The dress is part of the dance, and this style of skirt looks fantastic during a Cha Cha Cha.�

“Yeah, but still…� Ron still looked uncomfortable. “If you’re turning about and these… strands fly about, then you’ll be able to see…� he trailed away.

“You won’t be able to see anything, Ron, except my dancing shorts underneath,� Hermione told him, firmly but gently. “Please, Ron, there’s nothing to worry about. Alex would never believe me, but I know you will.� Ron looked up at her and sighed.

“Ok, but it’s just that, well, since you’re my,� Ron paused, “girlfriend, I kind of feel protective.� Hermione smiled.

“And I’m happy that you are,� she told him, folding the dress back up. “Just don’t worry about it. I just gave up everything for you, I’m not going to leave you so soon. Don’t worry. Besides,� Hermione’s face cracked into an evil grin, “you haven’t seen your outfits yet.�

Ron looked questioningly at her. Hermione grinned still further, and pulled out a black shirt and trousers. Ron stared. They were merely plain black.

“What’s wrong with them?� he asked, confused.

“That’s your quickstep outfit,� Hermione told him, laying it carefully on the floor. “This is your Cha Cha outfit.� She pulled it out of the box and Ron’s jaw dropped in horror.

“No,� he said. “No way. There is absolutely no way you are going to get me wearing that!� Hermione smirked. She was holding up another all-in-one lycra suit, but this one was shocking pink. And it seemed half the front was missing; the neckline seemed to scoop dangerously low.

“Oh, come on, Ron, it’s not that bad. The neckline’s not so low, I promise, you won’t even be able to see your belly button,� Hermione said, earnestly, but clearly trying not to laugh.

“Hermione, it’s lycra, it’s pink, it’s a hideous design, it’s got ruffles, lace, glitter and fake jewels stuck on. You are never getting me wearing that.�

Hermione glared at him.

“Why do you always make me wear the worst outfits?� Ron muttered, slouching off to the dressing room.

*

After the costume debacle, Ron emerged back in his usual clothes, for Hermione to tell him all about the two new dances.

“The Quickstep is like a fast foxtrot,� Hermione began. At the bemused look on Ron’s face, she continued, “We’ll be learning the foxtrot the week after next, but for now, we’ll concentrate on this. It’s a light, bright dance, and has tricky footwork, so you’ll have to work especially hard. You’re supposed to look like you’re dancing over hot coals, and you’ll need to be on your toes a lot. Here, let’s give it a try.�

They took up ballroom position, and Hermione began going through some simple steps. Soon enough, Ron had got a rather shaky gist of the dance, and Hermione turned her attention to the Cha Cha Cha.

“The Cha Cha came from Cuba, and has similar steps to the rumba, which we’re doing next week. However, the rumba is romantic, but this dance is much brighter and livelier. It’s quite a sort of cheeky dance, and there won’t be much dancing together, it’ll be more individual. Come on, I’ll show you.�

The Latin dance was much trickier for Ron to get the hang of, mainly because he wasn’t so used to dancing steps on his own, especially as Hermione wasn’t leading him. According to her, however, this was a good thing.

“I think you need a bit of practise at leading,� she told him, as they packed the things away at the end of the day. “The man’s supposed to lead the woman in dancing, so it’ll help you get used to it for the next few dances.�

“Will there be two dances to learn again next week, or just the one?� Ron asked, massaging his ankles. Learning two different dances, both very quick, in one day, had been extremely hard work. But, to his relief, Hermione shook her head.

“No, we’d just be doing the rumba, which is a romantic Latin dance, but there will be a group dance next week, the Viennese Waltz, where all the remaining couples dance together on the floor at the same time.�

Hermione flicked the switch on the lights, and slowly they made their way downstairs and out of the studio. Outside the wind was up, and it was raining hard; it seemed a storm was on its way.

“I hope it’s nicer weather than this for Luna next Tuesday,� Hermione said grimly, pulling the hood up on her jacket. Ron turned in surprise.

“You got an invitation too?�

“Yes, Ginny told her I was back, and apparently she loves the show. Who’d have thought, eh, Luna Lovegood and Colin Creevey? So you’re going, aren’t you?�

“Yeah, Tuesday afternoon,� Ron grinned shaking his head. “Who gets married on a Tuesday afternoon?�

“Luna does,� Hermione replied simply, smiling. “Although if it was me, I’d probably have given my guests at least a month’s notice, rather than a week.�

“So,� Ron said, flinging a casual arm around her shoulders. “What about that meal I promised you several weeks ago? You feel like going tonight?� Hermione gave him a half-appraising, half-amused look, then nodded, a grin curling over her face.

“Yes, I think we’ve put it off long enough, Mr Weasley,� she told him. “Where are you going to take me?�

“There’s this great place only a few streets away from here, they make great pizza,� Ron told her, leading the way across the deserted road.

“Ron!� Hermione screamed suddenly; Ron jumped and stared around to see a car almost on top of them, lights blazing in the dusk, the dark shape of the driver just visible hunched behind the wheel. Hermione leapt aside, grabbing Ron’s arm and dragging him with her just in time; the car missed by inches and sped off away into the darkness.

Ron stood, shell-shocked on the pavement, Hermione still clinging tightly onto his arm, shaking and looking pale.

“That was close,� Ron said finally, once he’d got his breath back.

“Are you ok?� Hermione asked him, shakily, and finally loosening her grip on his arm.

“Yeah, I… thanks,� Ron muttered sheepishly, running a hand distractedly through his hair. “You saved my life.�

“I… well… yeah.�

“Where did that car come from though?� Ron mused aloud. “I checked the road, and it was definitely clear.� Hermione shook her head.

“I thought so too. We must’ve missed it, or something.� Ron nodded and swallowed.

“Come on, there’s definitely nothing coming now,� he said, taking Hermione by the hand and leading her across to the safety of the pavement the other side.

It wasn’t far to the restaurant, and soon Ron and Hermione were sitting down to share a large pizza together, discussing how the rest of the competition would pan out. Just as they began to tuck into ice cream, however, there was a high-pitched scream; the pair of them looked round in time to see a rough, gritty brick smash into the large plate glass window. The tables nearest the window were showered with shimmering specks of glass, and Ron had to jerk his head sharply sideways to avoid being caught by the brick. It landed with a loud cracking noise on the tiled floor, while the manager came hurrying out to try and calm down his customers, as an alarm blared overhead.

Ron stared around, feeling a breezy draught blowing in through the large hole in the window, but soon he felt Hermione tugging on his arm.

“What?� he asked quietly, noticing that she had picked up the brick. She unwrapped a piece of parchment that was wrapped around it, read through it, and blanched.

“What’s the matter?� Ron repeated urgently. Hermione didn’t say a word, but mutely handed the parchment to Ron. Ron grabbed it, and saw two lines scrawled there in black ink.

‘I’ll get you, Ron Weasley.
I’ll get you.’

*

Luckily Ron managed to make it to the end of the week with no more assassination attempts. He and Hermione had avoided wandering around outside anywhere, preferring to Apparate back to their own places of residence straight away after a day’s training. Hermione was still living at Harry and Ginny’s, despite Ron’s protests, but he was much heartened by her promise that she would consider living with him.

Now, however, they were waiting in the wings once more, Hermione dressed in her pink dress, and Ron in his hideous pink suit. They had already danced their quickstep, and been praised for it, and were minutes away from dancing their Cha Cha Cha.

“Ron, where are your shoes?� Hermione hissed suddenly, noticing Ron’s bare feet.

“Oh, I took them off, my ankles were sore again,� Ron exclaimed, leaving Hermione’s side and hurrying back to the dressing room where he’d left them. He was back within a minute, and hurried to tie them up.

“Are you sure you’re warmed up enough in them?� Hermione asked, critically eyeing the shoes.

“I’m fine, Hermione, look-“ Ron went through the first few steps of the dance – or at least he would have done, had his feet not given way beneath him; he skidded over, falling spectacularly into a rack of costumes.

“Ron!� Hermione dropped to the floor to help him up. “Are you alright?�

“Yeah,� Ron said, wincing slightly. Nothing seemed broken, in any case. He pulled his shoes off again, and stared at the soles. Hermione let out an audible gasp.

“But that’s-“

“Oil,� Ron muttered, running a finger across the slippery surface. “They’ve been polished up too, look.� Hermione held a shoe in her hand, biting her lip. Ron frowned at her.

“What are you thinking?� he asked curiously.

“Nothing,� Hermione mumbled, turning the shoe over. “It’s just that, well, you’ve been pretty unlucky this week. The car nearly knocking you down, that brick through the window – we know that was meant for you. And now this, I mean, this was deliberate.� Ron scrutinised her anxious face.

“You think this was Alex, don’t you?�

Hermione paused, but Ron could see the answer in her worried brown eyes. At that moment, however, they had more to worry about; the previous couple, Ira and his partner, had come off stage, and Ron and Hermione were being called forwards.

“What am I going to do?� Ron asked urgently. “I can’t dance in these!� Hermione looked around, then leapt to her feet and flinging herself on Ira.

“Ira! Ira, we’ve had a bit of an accident, well not so much an accident but anyway – can we borrow your shoes?� Ira stared at her, confused.

“My shoes?� he repeated slowly. “Well, yeah, I suppose so, but why-“

“Can’t explain now, sorry, we’ve got to go!� Ira handed his shoes over to Ron, who slipped them on and tied them up tightly; Ira’s feet were least a size bigger than his.

Dancing the Cha Cha Cha in his own shoes was usually hard enough, but Ron found himself struggling to stay upright half the time as he tried to dance. He did his best, but his feet were just that bit longer than he was used to, and he knew it was showing in his dancing. They closed the dance, and Ron waited with baited breath for the judge’s sentence to fall.

“What was going on, Ron?� said the first judge, flabbergasted. “You had a near perfect quickstep, but that Cha Cha was terrible!�

“He had to borrow Ira’s shoes,� Hermione piped up quickly. “His own shoes, er, broke, and there wasn’t time to find another pair in his size. It was the best we could do.�

“Well, that explains it,� said another judge, “but, wrong size shoes or not, you can’t expect a high mark from that performance.�

He was right; Ron and Hermione got the lowest mark of the show, and, once again, it was up to the public to save them. As they waited nervously at the end of the show, Ron bent down to whisper in Hermione’s ear.

“D’you think this was what Alex wanted?� he muttered. “To get us out of the show?�

“I don’t know,� Hermione whispered back, shaking her head slightly. “It could be that he thinks if we’re out of the show, I won’t see you anymore, and I’ll go back to him.�

“He’s a nutter,� Ron muttered darkly, but, to his surprise, Hermione sighed deeply.

“There’s more to Alex than you realise, Ron,� she said sadly. “It isn’t his fault he’s like this.� Ron made to inquire further, but the marks were being announced, and at a shush from Hermione, he fell silent.

As the other couples were granted safety into the next round one by one, Ron felt his heart sinking right to his stomach. He thought about what Hermione had said, ‘perhaps he thinks if we’re out of the show, I won’t see you anymore, and I’ll go back to him’. Would she? If she wasn’t forced to spend every day with him rehearsing, would she still want to see Ron, or would she think she had made a mistake and go back to Alex?

Ron was so wrapped up in his internal thought, he didn’t realise that the presenters had made their final announcement. He only realised the show had finished when Hermione let out a sob and flung herself on him, crying. Ron felt his heart sink further, but sighed resolutely.

“Never mind,� he said to Hermione, patting her shoulder. “So what if we didn’t get through? We’ll still see each other, right?� Hermione pulled away from him, looking confused.

“But… Ron, weren’t you listening?�

“Er…�

“We got through, Ron! We just made it through! We’ve got another chance!� Hermione hugged him tightly as Ron let the words sink in.

“We got through?!� he said finally, delighted.

“Yes!� Hermione said, laughing. Ron laughed too; it would all be alright, they were still in the show and Hermione wasn’t going to leave him for Alex! Feeling elated, Ron grabbed Hermione’s middle and swung her round, while she shrieked at him to put her down, although admittedly between laughs. Ron set her down and hugged her tightly, beaming: they were through.

“When love is in excess it brings a man nor honour nor any worthiness� – Euripides



“So, the Rumba,� Ron said brightly on Monday morning. “The Latin dance of love between a man and a woman, full of romance and good interplay between the dancers and-“

“Ron, can you stop with the I’m-so-knowledgeable-about-dancing act!� Hermione laughed. “That’s supposed to be my job!�

“Ah, you, my dear, are just jealous because I know more about it than you do,� Ron replied easily, with a dramatic toss of his head. Hermione laughed again.

“I doubt that somehow. Anyway, come on, let’s get on with it. I have the perfect song for us to dance to.�

“What’s it called?� Ron asked suspiciously.

“Against all odds,� Hermione told him, flicking a switch on the CD player.

“Why do we always have to dance to Muggle music?� Ron muttered mutinously, but Hermione shushed him, and they remained silent, listening to the music ringing around the room. When the song finished, Ron let out a breath.

“Uh, yeah, that’s, er, appropriate.�

“Exactly,� Hermione told him, slipping her arms round his waist. “I walked away from you once, and I’m never going to do it again.�

“Good to know,� Ron replied, sticking his tongue out. Hermione laughed and released him to go through some of the steps.

“I like this dance,� Ron declared as they spun around the dance floor.

“Comes naturally, doesn’t it?� Hermione said softly. “So, looking forward to Luna’s wedding?�

“Yeah, should be fun. I haven’t seen Luna for ages, or Colin for that matter. And you’ll be there, of course.�

“That I will,� Hermione agreed, a small smile playing around her mouth. “All alone, because nobody will come with me…�

“What?� Ron asked, bewildered. “But you… me… I thought…�

“You have to ask me to come with you,� she whispered in his ear.

“Oh! Well, er, in that case, Miss Granger, would you do me the very great pleasure of accompanying me to our dear friend Luna’s wedding tomorrow afternoon?�

“Of course, Mr Weasley,� Hermione replied, grinning. “I would be delighted.�

*

Tuesday morning dawned cloudy but calm, with the wind dying down and the sun attempting valiantly to peek through. Ron Flooed over to Harry’s house before leaving; he was going to get to the ceremony with Harry and Hermione, Ginny having already gone on ahead, as she was to be a bridesmaid. The wedding itself was taking place in a small church by the sea, and the reception afterwards was to be in an old castle nearby.

When he arrived, Harry was snickering about something that Hermione apparently didn’t find very funny. She seemed to be telling him off, but both looked round as Ron flew out of the fireplace in Harry and Ginny’s living room.

“What are you laughing about?� Ron asked Harry with a suspicious grin, as Harry helped him to his feet.

“Ginny’s expression when she put on her bridesmaid dress,� Harry chortled. “It’s very, er, Luna style material, and it rather, er, accentuates the bump.�

“It’s not funny, Harry!� Hermione scolded him. “Ginny’s going through a very serious and emotional time at the moment, and what she needs is for her husband,� she put a great deal of emphasis on the word, “to remind her how much he loves her and will think she’s the most beautiful person in the world even when she’s the size of a baby whale, and not for him to snigger at her insecurities.� Harry looked rather abashed.

“Yeah, but she knows I love her and think she’s beautiful, doesn’t she?� he reasoned slowly. Hermione sighed and shook her head in an expression that clearly gave him up as a lost cause.

“Come on, you two get your suits on; I’m going to go and put my dress on and I expect the pair of you to be back here in ten minutes exactly.�

The boys were indeed obediently in the living room ten minutes later, waiting patiently as Hermione dashed around, making sure that they had everything from their invitations to several packs of tissues. Finally she was ready, and the trio Apparated to the small area of woodland just beyond the small church where the ceremony was taking place.

“Come on, quickly, we’re late!� Hermione hissed, dragging the pair of them by the elbows into the church and scurrying up the aisle to find their seats.

“You haven’t changed, Hermione,� Harry laughed, as Hermione yanked him along. “Good luck with her, mate,� he added to Ron, who raised his eyebrows in response to his friend.

Colin Creevey was standing at the front of the church, quietly exchanging words with his best man, the ever present Dennis Creevey. Colin’s side of the church seemed fit to bursting with Muggle relatives, but Luna’s side seemed comparatively empty. There were several members of the DA, along with some adults that Ron supposed were Lovegood family friends, and finally the three of them, and Ginny, who he could just see hovering near the entrance to the church.

At the starting notes of the bridal march, Ron, Hermione and Harry all turned as one to watch as Luna Lovegood entered on the arm of her father, an extremely tall man wearing the same dreamy smile as Luna. She seemed to float up the aisle, and when she reached a beaming Colin, she greeted him with a vague, “Hello.� Colin merely stared happily back, and Ron and Harry exchanged a knowing grin.

*

“It was a lovely ceremony, wasn’t it?� Hermione said to Ron at the reception, for what he suspected was the twentieth time.

“Yes dear, it was fabulous and Luna looked beautiful but no, you don’t have to worry that I think she’s beautiful because I only have eyes for you,� he intoned monotonously. Hermione glared at him.

“Alright, don’t blame me if I-“

“Shall we go and dance again?� Ron suggested quickly, seizing her elbow and preparing to drag her to the dance floor, but they were accosted along the way by Luna herself, accompanied by Ginny and her baby bump.

“Hello,� Luna said happily. “Are you having a nice time?�

“Yeah, it’s great Luna, congratulations!� Ron told her, patting her shoulder genially.

“It was a lovely ceremony, Luna,� Hermione gushed, as Ron groaned. “And your dress is beautiful. Is it from Madam Malkin’s?�

“Oh, no, it was my mother’s wedding dress,� Luna told them plainly. “She used to dress me up in it when I was little, every year, on her and daddy’s wedding anniversary.�

There was a sniff from Luna’s other side and they turned in surprise to see that Ginny was now rummaging for a tissue, tears streaming uncontrollably down her cheeks.

“Cheer up, Ginny, you’re supposed to be happy, not wailing like a banshee,� Ron said bracingly.

“Ron!� Hermione scolded, pulling Ginny into a hug. “It’s an emotional time for her!� Ron shrugged and, with a sigh, gave the two women up as a lost cause. He turned instead to head back to the bar, where Harry seemed to have taken refuge from his wailing wife, but found himself face to face with Luna again.

“You really love her, don’t you?� she said serenely. Ron glanced back at Ginny, who was now flapping around for another tissue, and Hermione, who was attempting to comfort her and glare daggers at Ron at the same time.

“Which one?� he asked gingerly.

“Both of them,� Luna replied. “In different ways, obviously, but you love them a lot.�

“Yeah,� Ron shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I do.�

“Which one do you love more?� she asked, twirling the flamingo stirrer in her drink. Ron stared.

“Luna! You can’t ask me that!�

“I know. But what if you had to choose?�

“Why are you asking?� Ron asked, curiously. Now it was Luna’s turn to shrug.

“I just wondered whether someone could love their brother or sister as much as the person they want to spend the rest of their life with.�

“Well, what if I had to ask you to choose between Colin or your dad? Which would you choose?� Ron fired back at her. Luna looked vaguely thoughtful for a moment.

“Colin,� she said calmly. Ron stared at her again. “My dad’s older anyway, and I know he’d choose my happiness over his. But then again, if it was a choice between life or death, I’d let him go to be with my mum.�

“But wouldn’t Colin choose your happiness over his too?� Ron asked, getting more confused by the second. He wasn’t even sure why they were having this conversation.

“Yes. But he’s got a whole family here, and if Dad went, well, it’d just be me left here, rather than a whole family grieving for Colin.�

“So you’d be choosing Colin’s happiness, your Dad’s happiness, and all of Colin’s family’s happiness over your own?� Luna shrugged again.

“I’d just be doing what was right. And it’s not like I’d be unhappy. I’d still have Colin, wouldn’t I? Oh, here he comes, I want to dance with him. I’ll dance with you later if you like,� she added, beaming at him before floating over to where Colin was waiting with open arms. Ron watched her go, trying to take in what she’d said.

At that moment Hermione brushed past him, a frosty look still on her face, heading for Harry. Ron followed in the hope of apologising for the heinous sin he had supposedly committed.

“I want a word with you, Harry,� she was saying sternly as Ron reached them. “Alright, with you as well,� she added to Ron as she noticed him skulking at her shoulder.

“What have I done now?� Harry sighed.

“It’s what you’re not doing,� she told him, hands on her hips. “You should be giving Ginny support, not sitting here at the bar all night, nursing a Butterbeer and deliberately avoiding her!�

“Hermione, this is as much a new experience for me as it is for her; how am I supposed to know what to do?� Harry argued back angrily. “Anything and everything I do is wrong! I try and be nice, she yells at me for patronising her! I try being blunt and she yells at me for being nasty! I even went to Hogwarts last weekend just so I could get exactly the right kind of treacle tart for her, and when I got back she’d changed her mind! And when I tried to get her to eat it anyway, she just screamed at tried to hex me! What exactly am I supposed to do, Hermione?!�

“Just love her! Give her hugs, reassure her! Show her you love her!�

“She knows I love her!�

“Yes, I know that, but-“

At that moment, they heard a scream echoing from somewhere on the opposite side of the room. Everyone fell silent, shocked, for a moment, then someone cried, “There’s a madman! He’s grabbed a girl, I think it was one of the bridesmaids!�

Ron glanced from Harry, whose face had gone stark white, to Hermione, whose hands had flown to her mouth. The room was still deathly silent, then another scream was heard, and this time it screamed a word, a name…

“HARRY!�

Harry leapt to his feet, sending his bar stool flying, and shot across the room, Ron fast behind him with Hermione bringing up the rear. Ron bounded up the winding staircase behind Harry, taking the steps three at a time. They emerged at the top onto the battlements of the old castle, and across from them, standing perilously on the wall, which on the other side fell away into a 40 feet drop, was Ginny. Her arm was twisted behind her, and was being gripped by a tall man, who was holding a silver knife in his other hand, pressing it to Ginny’s throat.

Harry charged forwards but Ron held him back; he had just recognised the man. And, judging by the sharp intake if breath behind him, Hermione had too.

It was Alex.

He had a manic look in his eyes as he stared from the terrified Ginny to the shocked crowd.

“Your sister, Weasley?� he yelled at Ron. “I thought so. You’ve taken something from me, now I’m going to take something from you. Eye for an eye, and all that.�

“That’s my wife!� Harry roared, trying to break free from Ron’s grip.

“I don’t care, it’s his fault. I wouldn’t have had to do this if he hadn’t taken my Hermione! Blame him!�

Harry’s head snapped round to Ron, who was stunned and horrified to see a spark of accusation in his eyes.

“We can come to a deal, Weasley,� Alex called. “Just come over here and we’ll arrange something.�

“I don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to say!� Ron yelled. But Alex grinned a bit more and moved the knife to Ginny’s stomach, where her baby bump seemed plainer than ever.

“No?�

Harry broke free and charged forward before Ron could stop him. Hermione screamed, “Harry, no!� but Alex seemed too stunned to have registered what to do. While Alex’s eyes were fixed on Harry, coming at him like a raging bull, Ginny grabbed Alex’s wrist and twisted the knife away, but in doing so, she lost her balance. Harry leapt forward to catch her before she fell over the edge, allowing Alex just enough time to slip past him. Alex ran; he shoved Ron aside, but paused for a second at Hermione.

He gave her a slight nod, and stroked her pale cheek, then pushed his way through the crowd, who all seemed too shocked to do anything, and disappeared from sight. Ron scrambled to his feet and hurried over to Ginny, who was pale and shaking, still in Harry’s arms.

“This is all your fault!� Harry said angrily to Ron. “Why did you have to go messing with that maniac?�

Ron had no answer; he just stared wordlessly at Harry, who pushed roughly past him, practically dragging Ginny with him. The crowd seemed to have dissipated back downstairs, leaving Ron and Hermione standing alone at the top of the battlements.

He could see in her eyes what she was going to do.

“No,� he whispered. “Please. No. No.� But she shook her head.

“I’m sorry, Ron,� she said softly. “But I have to. You know I have to, for everyone’s sakes.�

Ron knew she was right, but it didn’t stop his heart from breaking. He knew, as well as she did, that if she didn’t go back to Alex, this same thing, or worse, would happen over and over again. More people would get hurt. He nodded.

“Goodbye, Ron.�

And Hermione walked away from Ron, leaving him all alone once more.

“Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up.� ~ James Baldwin

Hermione seemed tired and sad at Wednesday morning’s rehearsal. Ron was determined not to let it affect their friendship, but it was much harder to hold Hermione and talk to her whilst all the time knowing that she’d never be his again. The day dwindled slowly on, both of them keenly avoiding discussing the previous day’s events.

“That was a really good practise, Ron, well done,� Hermione said absently as she packed her equipment away. Ron watched the subdued look on her face and wondered whether he should say something.

“Hermione,� he said finally. “I… er… where did you stay last night?� She took a few moments before answering.

“Harry and Ginny’s,� she replied quietly. “Ginny spent the night at St Mungo’s, and Harry stayed with her. She’s alright, but he’s -�

“Is he still mad at me?� Ron asked, uneasily.

“He’s not mad at you, Ron,� Hermione said. “He was scared for Ginny, that’s all. I’m sure he’ll apologise next time he sees you.�

“It’s not really my fault though,� Ron protested weakly. “Is it?�

“No, Ron, it’s not your fault,� Hermione replied quietly, looking away.

“It’s Alex’s fault!� Ron exclaimed angrily. “I’m going to report him to the Aurors, you know, maybe I’ll tell Tonks…�

“No!� Hermione said shrilly. “Ron, please don’t do that!� Ron stared, confused and slightly suspicious.

“Why not?�

“Just… please, Ron, I’m begging you, don’t report him!� Hermione pleaded.

“Why are you defending him?� Ron asked, his temper rising in spite of himself. “He’s a maniac who tried to kill my sister and her baby!� He watched her as she struggled to respond. “You still have feelings for him, don’t you?�

“No! No, Ron, I don’t.� Ron wanted to believe her, and her eyes told him that she was telling the truth, but something still didn’t seem to ring true.

“What is it, Hermione?� he asked, this time more calmly.

“Ask me again sometime, Ron,� she replied cryptically. “Just don’t report him. For me, Ron.�

*

Ron didn’t feel brave enough to raise the topic again, and they made it through to Saturday night’s show being careful not to mention Alex. Ron couldn’t help but think to himself how beautiful Hermione looked in her rumba dress: a dark blue and green outfit with silver beading sewn around the waist. His own outfit was much better than normal; just plain black trousers with a shimmering navy blue shirt.

“Come on, Ron, we’re next,� Hermione said, tugging his hand to pull him along. They waited nervously in the wings, not talking and avoiding each others’ eyes. Whenever Ron did glance at Hermione, she seemed to be working up the courage to say something.

“Ron,� she said finally, speaking quickly as the previous couple left the dance floor, “I’ve got something I really need to tell you before-�

“Here’s Ron and Hermione!� the announcer shouted, and before Hermione could finish, they were pushed onto the dance floor by the floor manager.

As they strode to the middle of the floor, Ron glanced around the crowd nervously. None of his family had been able to come this week, and neither Harry nor Ginny had spoken to Ron since Tuesday’s incident. As his eyes flicked past the judges’ table, he caught sight of a horribly familiar face grinning at him from the audience. His jaw dropped in horror.

“No,� he muttered. “No. No, Hermione, no…�

“Ron, the dance!� she squeaked, and Ron realised that their music had started, and they should be halfway through the first move by now. He clumsily attempted to rectify the situation, but only succeeded in nearly falling over and pulling Hermione down with him. He felt Hermione’s hands gripping him, jerking him round to position, and finally they caught up with the music, but still Ron could not concentrate. Every time he looked at Hermione’s petrified face he saw that grinning face smirking at him in his mind’s eye.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hermione steered the dance to its end, and the music finally finished. The crowd applauded, but neither Ron nor Hermione spoke, walking silently to the judges’ table instead. Hermione seemed to be trying as hard as she possibly could not to collapse into tears. The four judges all seemed shocked. Ron couldn’t help but look past them to Alex’s smirking face, which seemed triumphant.

“I’m sorry,� the first judge said when he found his voice, “but that was quite possibly the worst rumba I’ve ever seen.�

“There was no passion, your feet were all over the place and your entire frame was just stiff and wooden,� agreed the second judge.

“I don’t know what’s happened to you this week, but if you come back next week you need to do some serious work,� the third judge told them, looking thoroughly disappointed.

“But it was good choreography,� the final judge added weakly.

They exited the floor after receiving their lowest mark of the series, before having to sit through the agonising hour of waiting before the final results.

The only thing Ron could see as they lined up ominously to await their results was Alex’s sneering face. It took him a moment to realise that Hermione was tugging on his sleeve.

“Ron. Ron!� she hissed hurriedly, as the floor manager counted down the seconds till they went on air. “There’s something else I have to tell you, Ron, something really important!�

“What is it?� Ron asked quietly.

“Alex is going to let me keep dancing, and keep in touch with Harry and Ginny on one condition… that I never see you again. Ever.�

“Don’t marry him then!� Ron hissed, horrified by what he was hearing. “Why do you have to marry him?�

“You know why!� Hermione whispered back. “To keep everybody happy! It’s the only way to sort this all out, and you know that, Ron!�

“Yeah, because we’re really happy, aren’t we?�

“This stopped being about us a long time ago, Ron,� Hermione told him sadly. “Too many people are involved now, and too many people are going to get hurt.� Ron stared at her sad brown eyes in horror as the lights flickered on to show they were on air. One by one, the final few couples dwindled, leaving Ron and Hermione in the final two. Ron gripped Hermione’s hands tightly, hoping and praying silently.

‘Please, one more week with her…’

“The couple leaving this week is…�

‘I can’t say goodbye to her again…’

“Ron, I love you no matter what, you know that, right?� Hermione whispered urgently. Ron was about to reply, when-

“Ron and Hermione!�

Hermione let out a sob and Ron felt his knees hit the floor. It was over. They were finally out. There would be no more dancing, and he would never see Hermione again.

*

Ron stood outside of the studios with his bag slung over his shoulder, his dancing shoes held in his hand. Behind him the crowd continued to stream out, chattering, laughing and joking, but Ron didn’t think he’d ever feel happy again. He felt numb. He couldn’t understand Hermione’s decision – why didn’t she just leave Alex? There must be something stopping her. Whatever it was, Ron was now truly alone; Harry and Ginny hadn’t spoken to him for nearly a week, and he would never see Hermione again.

He began to trudge slowly down the street, scarcely noticing where his feet were carrying him. Soon he heard loud music, and looked up, squinting, to see that he was outside the same club he’d found himself at weeks before. Ron paused, half wanting to go in, but half knowing he shouldn’t. He hadn’t drunk any alcohol in weeks, let alone go into a club. As the memory of Alex’s leering face flashed before his eyes, his mind was made up. Ron stormed through the doors into the club.

Coming back here felt strangely like coming home, or like waking up after a dream. It felt as if he had never been away, as though it had been only yesterday that he had got drunk here and tried to hit on his own sister. He forced his way through the crowds to the bar, where he ordered a large double whiskey. As he downed it in one, he heard a horribly familiar voice say, “Ronnie!�

Turning slowly to his right, he saw, with a pang of horror, Heavenly-Paige’s beaming face beside him. He groaned, and shouted for another whiskey.

“How are you?� he asked weakly, as the bartender slammed his drink down.

“I’m wonderful!� Heavenly-Paige gushed. “I’m getting married!� Ron choked on his drink, almost spitting half of it out.

“What?!� he asked, still coughing. Heavenly-Paige’s beam became even wider.

“I’m getting married in two months’ time in the Seychelles,� she explained. “Sorry, Ronnie, but I just don’t think we were right for each other.� Ron stared.

“No,� he said blandly. “No, I’m afraid that I think you’re right.�

“You’re not too sad about it?� Heavenly-Paige asked with something close to concern.

“Heartbroken,� Ron replied wryly. “But I’ll survive.�

“You’ll find that person, Ronnie,� Heavenly-Paige told him warmly, kissing his cheek noisily. “She’s out there right now, waiting for you to sweep her off her feet and marry her. Just you wait and see.�

“Right,� Ron said with a weak grin. “Sure,� he added quietly, as Heavenly-Paige flounced away with a man who must be her fiancé.

After a couple more whiskeys, Ron decided it was time to head home. He made his way out of the club and along the high street. As he passed an off-licence, he paused. What did he have to lose? It wasn’t like Hermione or Ginny was there to lecture him about it. Ron reached into his pocket to find the Muggle money he kept in case of emergencies, and headed determinedly into the shop.

*

“Harry, it wasn’t his fault.�

“If he hadn’t… you could’ve…�

“It’s nobody’s fault,� Ginny told her husband, as they sat curled on the sofa together. “And I think you know that, don’t you?� Harry was mutinously silent for a moment.

“Yes.�

“We can’t stay mad at him forever. He’s my brother, and your best friend. Besides, he’ll need us now more than ever,� Ginny said quietly. They had watched in horror the disastrous dancing that evening on the TeleWizion, and, despite his ill feeling towards Ron, Harry couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“Well, why don’t we go round in the morning?� Harry suggested. “We should be going to bed soon anyway really, you’re supposed to be resting.� Ginny waved his suggestion off.

“I want to go and see him now, Harry, just to make sure he’s alright. Can we go?� She looked up at him pleadingly, and Harry sighed.

“Fine,� he grumbled, getting up from the sofa and stretching. “Grab your coat, and let’s go. Probably best to walk, bit late for Flooing in.�

Within five minutes they were ready and out of the house, hurrying along the dark streets of London. It took them a fair while to reach Ron’s flat, and it was very late by the time they finally arrived there, but they could see a light on through the windows. Ginny knocked on the door. No answer. She tried again. Still nothing.

“Ron!� Harry called loudly, giving the door and bang. “Ron, we’ve come traipsing over here in the middle of the night just to-� A window opened above them and a stringy-looking woman poked her head out.

“Do you mind?� she screeched. “We are trying to sleep!�

“Well, we are trying to get in!� Harry yelled back. “And if you’ve got a problem with that, then I suggest you-�

“Er, we’re very sorry,� Ginny interjected, glaring at Harry. “We just, er, lost our key.� The woman looked suspicious but withdrew her head, shutting the window with a snap. Ginny looked at Harry, whose face now looked rather anxious. He looked at the lock on the door closely, then took a few steps back.

“Harry, what are you-� With a loud BANG! Harry rammed himself against the door with all his might. It didn’t move. The woman opened the window again.

“Look!� she cried shrilly. “Perhaps you enjoy making lots of noise at this time of night, but the rest of us actually prefer-�

“SHUT UP!� Harry and Ginny yelled at her simultaneously. The woman looked affronted, but slammed the window shut once more. Ginny looked up at Harry again, with fear in her eyes.

“Try again, Harry.� Harry again slammed himself into the door – and this time the lock broke; the force of his move made Harry go flying into Ron’s kitchen, his shoulder aching painfully. Ginny hurried inside, trying to make the door close somewhat, and helped her husband to his feet.

“Come on,� she whispered. “Let’s find him.� They crept slowly through the flat, finding every room deserted. Finally they approached Ron’s bedroom, and Ginny gently swung the door open. Looking around, Ginny could not see Ron anywhere. Suddenly Harry grabbed her arm, and indicated something over by the radiator, on the other side of the bed. Ginny looked at where he was pointing, and let out a scream. They could just see a pair of long feet.

“Ron!� Ginny squealed, running forwards and throwing herself down on the floor next to her brother’s still form, Harry close behind her. Harry glanced around, and saw that the floor was littered with beer bottles. He turned his attention back to the body on the floor; Ron's lips were blue, his face pale, and Ginny was now cradling his head, tears running down her face.

“Harry, he isn’t breathing!� For a brief moment, Harry stood motionless, trying to take in the picture of his seemingly lifeless best friend lying on the floor in the arms of his sister, then he hurried to the fireplace. He seized a handful of Floo powder from the shelf and tossed it into the grate.

“Here, give him to me.� He prised Ron from Ginny’s grip and, half-carrying him, half-dragging him, pulled him to the green flames in the fire.

“Don’t leave me behind!� Ginny shrieked after him.

“Follow on behind me then,� Harry told her. “I’ll see you in a minute.� And with that he cried, “St Mungo’s Hospital!� and was gone.

“Hurry!� Ginny called as her husband and brother disappeared in a whirl of flames. She hastened to follow, her hand trembling as she took a handful of powder and threw it in. As she cried, “St Mungo’s!� she had one final glance at her brother’s wrecked, bottle-strewn bedroom, before it whipped out of sight.

She just hoped they weren’t too late.

“There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness.� ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Three Years Earlier

“And how are we this morning, Alex?� Hermione Granger breezed into the recovery ward in the psychiatric department of St Mungo’s hospital. The blond man sitting on the edge of his bed looked up at her, excited to see her.

“Great!� he said, enthusiastically. “I can’t wait to just get out there and start living my life again!� Hermione beamed happily at him, and sat down next to him.

“Yes, we’d all like that,� she said, with a wan smile. “You’re lucky to have the chance, you know.� Alex nodded, the grin subsiding slightly, replaced by a more serious look.

“I know it, believe me. But…� his face was reddening slightly, “I just wanted to… well, I wanted to say thank you. I wouldn’t be leaving today if it weren’t for you, you know.�

“Of course you would,� Hermione replied shyly, glancing away and feeling her own cheeks growing hot. “You weren’t destined to be cooped up here forever. I just opened the door for you, you’re walking out of it yourself.� Alex nodded, then slowly reached his hand across. To Hermione’s surprise, he gently took hold of her hand and clasped it tightly.

“You could have a chance to start again, you know,� he said quietly. “We could start together.� Hermione sighed.

“I tried it before, Alex. It didn’t work.�

“We can try it together,� Alex repeated earnestly, watching her carefully with his blue eyes. “Us against the world. We’ve come this far.�

Hermione was silent for a moment. The touch of Alex’s warm, secure hand in hers made her heart soar in a way it hadn’t done for so long, and the knowledge that he would always be there for her comforted her.

“Maybe last time I wasn’t ready to start again,� she mused softly. “You know, after mum and dad died. I just had to get out; I didn’t care where or how.�

“You weren’t ready to take on the world even two years ago,� Alex told her gently. “I know, Hermione. That day you told me about your parents, that was the day I think you started to accept it.�

Hermione nodded slowly. Her dancing career in the Muggle world had skyrocketed, her excellence in whatever she turned her mind to (with the obvious exceptions of Divination and flying) paying dividends as she soared through the ranks at the London Dance Academy. But despite her professional career, she felt empty and alone, so isolated from the rest of the world. That was when her dance teacher had suggested visiting the patients in St Mungo’s. At first Hermione had been sceptical; after all, she didn’t want to hang around in the hospital where her parents had finally died. But eventually she decided to take up the challenge, and had been offered a voluntary position in the Psychiatric Ward. And that was when she met Alex, and he had changed her life.

“There’s something I never told you, Alex,� Hermione whispered softly, stunned to feel a lump rising in her throat. “About the day we met. Do you remember it?�

“Of course,� Alex said immediately. “I’d run off again, and was hiding on the steps to the roof. You were lost and came across me, and we just sat and talked for hours, until eventually they found us.� Hermione nodded, carefully not looking at Alex’s earnest face.

“I wasn’t lost,� she muttered hollowly. “I was heading for the roof.� Alex didn’t say a word, but merely sat very still, his blazing blue eyes still fixed on Hermione’s face. Then, without a word, he released his hand from hers and slipped his arm comfortingly around her shoulders.

“I know,� he whispered finally. “I guessed.� Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t find the words. She felt a tear leak down her cheek, and hurried to wipe it away.

“I think,� She said eventually, “you may have saved my life.�

“And you saved mine,� Alex replied at once. “So we’re quits.�

Hermione smiled in spite of herself, and rested her head on Alex’s comforting arm. She remembered clear as day that afternoon they’d spent together on the stairs. She had opened up to Alex, then still a complete stranger, about her parents’ deaths and how she had left the wizarding world. She had told him about how she had been forced to leave her two best friends in the whole world, simply because being with them reminded her of all she had lost. In return Alex had told her how his mother had abandoned him, leaving him and his poverty-stricken father alone; how his Hogwarts letter had come but his father refused to let him go because he was ill and needed Alex’s help. How his father had died while Alex had sneaked out of the house to meet friends from the local estate, and how he had subsequently scraped a living on the streets of London, before finally catching pneumonia and nearly losing his mind.

“You’re still welcome to stay at my house until you find a place. Do you want any help carrying your stuff?� Hermione asked, sitting up straight once more and looking around for Alex’s bags, but he smiled wryly.

“This is it,� he said, holding up one small duffel bag. Hermione nodded.

“I’ve still got a few more hours I’m supposed to be doing here,� she said awkwardly, but Alex shook his head, smiling.

“Come with me,� he said, standing up, slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder and stretching out his hand. “Let’s start a new life, just you and me.� Hermione stared at the proffered hand, and felt a slight tremble. In a few moments, she could be beginning life over again, free from the pain of her teenage years, her parents’ murders and her lonely life of her early twenties. Alex was offering her a life of security, a life where she would be loved, and there would be no hurtful bickering or pointed barbs. She smiled at him in return, and took his hand.

“Let’s get out of here,� she said happily and, hand in hand, they headed for the door.

Two years later

“I love you, Hermione.�

The words hit Hermione like a ton of bricks. She hadn’t heard them in so long. In fact, she knew exactly the last time she’d heard them, and who it was that had said them. It had been her mother, as she lay dying in her hospital bed. By that time, Hermione’s father had already passed away, although Hermione didn’t have the heart to tell her mother this. Instead she had just sat quietly beside her mother, clutching her hand as she had when she was younger, resting her head on her mother’s shoulder. And as her mother’s life slipped away from her, Mrs Granger had found the strength to say only a few words – “I love you, little girl.� They had also been, Hermione knew, the first words her mother had ever said to her, moments after she was born. It was only in that moment, as her mother died in her arms, that Hermione had understood the true depth and strength of those words: the power, the fear and the courage of those words. And here was Alex, saying them to her. She didn’t know what to say.

“I… Alex, I-�

“It’s alright,� he sighed, although he looked disappointed. “I understand. Perhaps someday you will?�

“I know I will,� Hermione told him, firmly. “I promise you.�

“You’d better keep that promise!� Alex warned her jokingly.

“I don’t make promises lightly,� Hermione replied philosophically. “It’s from a Muggle song,� she added, as Alex looked bemused. “But you know what, Alex? We’ve done alright, haven’t we? I mean, here we are, living when a couple of years ago, we felt we had nothing to live for.�

“I live for you,� Alex told her quietly, lying down on the swing seat they were sitting on, and resting his head in Hermione’s lap. Hermione smiled and stroked his hair.

“You are the best thing in my life, did you know that?� she asked him gently. “I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you.�

“Every warrior receives a victory prize,� Alex said solemnly. “I just hope I wasn’t the consolation.� Hermione laughed, bent down and kissed him tenderly.

“You weren’t. I’m just not ready to tell you that I love you yet. Those words are important, and once said, they can’t be taken back.�

“That’s why I said them,� Alex said. “I can’t imagine my life without you. Don’t ever leave me.�

“What in the world could make me leave you?� Hermione asked with a laugh, but Alex was looking serious.

“Another man,� he suggested. “Or dancing. Please, promise me you’ll never leave me alone again. Everyone else in my life left me, but you’re different.�

“I’d give up anything before I gave up on you,� Hermione assured him.

“Even dancing?�

“Even dancing.� But Hermione was reminded of another promise that she’d made, in what would have been her seventh year at Hogwarts, had she not been searching the country for Horcruxes. The words came as easily as if she had spoken them yesterday – ‘I’ll never give up on you, either of you. You’ve been my world for so long now, and I’ll never leave your side.’ She had said them to Harry directly, but both had known that they applied to Ron as well. Her heart sank as the thought crept unbidden into her head – would she ever give up Alex as easily as she had Harry and Ron? If they were ever to need her again (not that they had for the past nine years) she knew in her heart of hearts that she would go running back to them. Because that was where she was supposed to be; her place was with them as a witch, not with Alex as a dancer; her heart knew it. But Hermione was Hermione, and, being Hermione, she listened to her head, not her heart. Alex symbolised the warmth and security that had been missing from her life for so long, and she wasn’t prepared to give that up.

“Then I’ve got something to ask you,� Alex said, interrupting her thoughts.

“Ok,� Hermione replied, startled but looking back at him. “Shoot.� Alex took a deep breath, and then got off the swing seat. Behind him the sun was setting over London, the bright golden beams reflecting off the silvery rooftops of the skyscrapers. Hermione watched Alex curiously. He was taking a step back, searching his pocket. He was – oh my goodness! – he was getting down on one knee! Oh no, Hermione thought, this was all wrong! She couldn’t marry Alex!

“Hermione,� Alex said, his blue eyes more serious and solemn than she’d ever seen them. They showed warmth, passion and sincerity. He would never leave her. He would never be taken away from her. He would always be by her side. But it was wrong.

“Y-Yes, Alex,� Hermione stuttered, fiddling nervously with the hem of her dress.

“Will you marry me?�

An eternity passed in the moment of silence. Hermione was torn. Her head was telling her that it was the sensible thing, that Alex could give her everything she thought she needed, but her heart was screaming in protest, so loudly that even cool, rational, reason-driven Hermione could hear it.

“I… I can’t, Alex,� she whispered, tears springing to her eyes. Alex was still for a moment, then looked at the floor.

“Why?� he asked quietly. Hermione wondered what to say; he looked so utterly defeated in that moment that she did not have the heart to tell him the truth.

“I don’t believe in marriage,� she lied quickly. “I don’t feel the need for a piece of paper to legalise the bond between two people. I’m sorry.� Alex was still, but then nodded. He looked back up at her, and she was relieved to see that he was smiling, albeit a little strained.

“I understand,� he said, putting the diamond ring back into his pocket and sitting back down on the swing. “We don’t need to get married to show our love.� He took her hand in his, and Hermione felt once again that comfortable feeling of security. There was no danger of getting stuck with Alex but, as long as she remained with him and did not think about whatever life she might or might not have had with Harry and Ron, she would be safe. The faint cry of her heart fought to be heard, but she stifled it quickly. If she ever returned to the life she’d once had, she knew that all that would face her was pain and heartache.

“Tis better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all� ~ Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Ron didn’t think he could take any more visitors, especially if they were going to be in the same vein as his mother. Mrs Weasley had entered, face white as a sheet, but as soon as she discovered that her youngest son was alive and well, her face had proceeded to turn a bright red with extraordinary speed, as she raged mercilessly at him.

“What did you think you were doing?! Did you mean to give your father and I heart attacks?! Terrifying your sister like that, when she’s had all the stress she can take already?! Do you realise how irresponsible and childish you’ve been?!� and she had carried on like that for much of the visiting session, never allowing Ron to answer with more than the first syllable of his reply. After she left, Ron remained sitting back against his pillows dejectedly, doing nothing more than staring out of the tiny window opposite at Muggle London. He had been unconscious in the hospital for several days, but even now he was awake, he could not summon the energy to do anything. Even the sound of the door creaking open, despite it being well past visiting hours, did not make him look round. He barely even blinked until he heard someone speak.

“Ron?� It was a female voice, and one he knew very well. Finally he moved, and saw, to his great surprise, a worried-looking Ginny, accompanied by her unusually sombre husband.

“Hi Ginny, Harry,� he replied hoarsely. His vocal chords felt like they hadn’t been used in years.

“How are you doing, mate?� Harry asked, edging closer to the bed.

“Fine; I can go home the day after tomorrow,� Ron replied, unenthusiastically.

“Why did you do it, Ron?� Ginny asked suddenly, her eyes a little too bright in the dim glow of the candles. “Why?� Ron was silent for a moment, watching his sister’s anxious face carefully.

“I’m sorry, Ginny,� he said finally, in little more than a whisper. “I’m sorry if I scared you.�

“Yes, you bloody well did scare me!� Ginny shouted suddenly. “We thought you were going to die! Do you realise that everyone’s been blaming themselves?! They all think it’s their fault you nearly died when you have so much to live for – what?� she added indignantly, for Ron had made a dismissive noise at this last bit.

“What have I got to live for, Ginny? You wouldn’t speak to me, Harry wouldn’t speak to me, the family wouldn’t even see me, and I’ll never see Hermione again. Tell me, Ginny, which part of that is worth staying alive for?�

“You idiot,� Harry told him angrily. “Did you honestly think that we weren’t going to speak to you ever again? Do you know why we came to your flat last night? We came to apologise for treating you unfairly! Instead we find you lying on the floor practically at death’s door! Ron, haven’t you seen enough death and destruction in your life at the hands of other people to realise how much life is worth? Why would you want to die a coward when we’ve seen so many die as heroes?�

“You don’t have to apologise,� Ron muttered. “It wasn’t your fault; it was all mine, and I could have gotten you and your baby killed. I’m sorry.� And he had never been more sincere in his life. At this, Ginny gave a sob and threw herself on her brother. Ron winced slightly at the sudden impact, but then he realised there was something soft and warm pressing against his stomach. It was Ginny’s baby bump. Lifting Ginny off him gently, he put his hand out to touch it. Ginny smiled and put her hand over her brother’s.

“Don’t do anything like this ever again, Ron,� she told him firmly, but still smiling.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t miss seeing this little one for the world,� Ron replied, happy to see her smiling again. Harry clapped him on the shoulder genially, then he and Ginny left, Harry’s arm casually thrown around Ginny’s shoulders.

Ron sat back, smiling in spite of himself. He couldn’t do anything now to get Hermione back, but the tiny baby growing inside his sister was a pinprick of light at the end of this long, dark tunnel. Finally Harry would have a family of his own, and Ron was determined to be around to see it.

*

He was still lost in thought several hours later. He was thinking about the times the three of them had spent together at school: him, Harry and Hermione. Everything was different now: he could not contemplate a life without the three of them together. Ron sighed – maybe he’d just have to finally grow up, and learn that there were some things that even money and fame could not buy.

A noise from the doorway made him glance round surprised: the sun had set on the horizon long ago, so who would be visiting him now?

It was Hermione. Her face was white, though her eyes were red, but she gave him a tired smile.

“Hi, Ron.�

“Hermione,� Ron replied, stunned. “What are you doing here? Does Alex know you’re here?�

“Calm down, Ron. Alex knows I’m here, I told him I was going to come. And why do you think I’m here?� When Ron remained silent she carried on, perching herself on the end of his bed as she did so. “I didn’t realise I meant that much to you.�

“Mm.� Ron fidgeted with his bedcovers, feeling inexplicably embarrassed. “I’m sorry.�

“Don’t apologise,� she said quietly. “It wasn’t your fault. It’s not anybody’s fault, it’s just… life.�

“It’s Alex’s fault!� Ron said angrily, but Hermione shook her head. “Oh, don’t go defending him again,� Ron cried accusingly. “What, then, Hermione? What is it that makes him so special? Why isn’t it his fault?�

“Ron, it isn’t his fault.� She settled herself more comfortably on the bed. “He can’t help it. Do you know where I met him?�

“No,� Ron muttered. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear this; blaming Alex had been the only thing stopping him from blaming himself.

“I did some voluntary work a few years back, at St Mungo’s, to try and ease back into the wizarding world again and to connect with people again. Alex was there at the hospital, because he had psychological issues, Ron. He tried to kill himself, just like you, and he nearly succeeded… just like you. Anyway, he had no one in his life; he had nothing to live for. I talked to him. That was all, nothing more, I was just his friend. And once he had a friend, he became a different person. He was given the all clear and released a few weeks later, and we stayed friends. He stayed with me for a while, when he was looking for somewhere to live, and we sort of, well, we started again together. I could talk to him about what happened to mum and dad, you see, because he wasn’t involved. Then it spiralled from there. But what I’m trying to say, Ron, is that you are a threat to him in a bigger way than you realise.�

“Because you’re the only person who loves and believes in him?� Ron asked quietly.

“Exactly, Ron. Alex is frightened that he’ll be alone forever, if I leave him for you. He doesn’t know how to deal with his fear, and that’s why he lashes out. I’m the only person that he has in his world.�

“How did he get his ‘psychological issues’?� Ron asked, intrigued.

“His mother left when he was young, and his father died several years later. He would have been the year above us at school, but he stayed to take care of his father. Dumbledore offered to sort out care for him until he finished school, but Alex was scared and didn’t trust anyone. When his father died he lost the flat they’d been living in, and ended up roaming the streets. So he’s been alone for years now, and one winter, when he got very ill with pneumonia, he was taken to St Mungo’s by some Healers who happened to pass him. While he was there, they diagnosed his psychological problems, and kept him in a ward there. He was there for a whole year before I met him, still lonely and afraid. He has a deep-rooted fear of being abandoned; in his eyes, both of his parents left him alone in the world, and those years he spent alone on the streets were the worst of his life. When I met him, I was lonely too, and we just sort of connected, it felt like there was a link between us. He needs me, and I hadn’t realised until now how much, and I can’t leave him alone in the world, when everyone else in his life has.�

Ron sat in silence for a few minutes, contemplating this fresh information. At least now he could partially understand why Alex behaved as he did, although it made him sad to think that Hermione’s compassion and desire to help those less fortunate had got her into this mess.

“Stay with Alex, Hermione,� Ron said finally, staring her directly in the eye. “It’s what’s best for everyone, well, except maybe you,� he added wistfully.

“And you,� Hermione said quietly. Ron shrugged as casually as he could.

“I’ll live,� he told her firmly, and they both knew he meant the words literally. “What about you?�

“It’s my decision, and I’m going to make the right one, not the easy one. That’s what Dumbledore said we should always do. But I do want you to know, Ron,� she added hurriedly, “that I’ll always love you. You’re the one for me, and we’ll always be together in here,� she said, gently touching her heart. Ron nodded; he couldn’t trust himself to speak. Hermione leaned forwards and kissed him on the cheek.

“Goodbye, Hermione,� Ron said, and, as she smiled at him for a final time and slipped out of the room, he felt a tiny twinge of happiness that she was not walking away from him this time, but that he was letting her go.

*

Ron couldn’t believe it. Someone else was trying to get into his room, even though it was nearly midnight! He’d never felt so popular, he thought wryly. This particular person, however, seemed to have decided to enter through the window, rather than opting for the door, probably for some reason best known to themselves.

As whoever it was jumped into the room, Ron felt a pang of fear – they were dressed all in black including a black balaclava! Just as he was searching desperately around him for some sort of weapon with which to defend himself however, the balaclava was removed, to reveal a tumble of stringy blonde hair and protuberant silvery eyes.

“Luna! What the hell are you doing here?�

“Colin and I only got back an hour ago, so I’ve only just heard what happened. How are you?� she asked, sitting herself cross-legged on the end of his bed.

“Er, fine thanks,� Ron replied, slightly nonplussed.

“Good, because it was rather a silly thing to do, you know,� Luna told him matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, so I’ve been told,� Ron grumbled.

“I mean, how on earth are you going to get Hermione back if you’re dead? She’d be here and you’d be there.�

“I’m not going to get Hermione back, Luna, whether we’re here or there,� Ron snapped.

“But you love her,� Luna protested plaintively.

“Yes, I know that thank you, but she’s got to do the right thing,� Ron replied through gritted teeth.

“Which is marrying you.�

“No it isn’t.�

“But it is.�

“Who said anything about marriage anyway?� Ron exploded angrily. “Look here, Luna, me and Hermione have talked about this. We’ve agreed, and I’ve let her go because I love her. So there’s no point in false hope.� Luna did not reply; she just looked at him interestedly. After a few seconds, she said simply, “No hope is false.�

Ron stared at her but said nothing. It was tiring to have his hopes raised and then dashed time and time again, but he could not ignore or try to block out Luna’s words, now that they were there, hanging in the silence between them.

“I brought you this,� Luna said finally, when it was obvious that Ron was not going to reply anytime soon. She pulled from her pocket a lurid pink, shiny ball, about the same size as a tennis ball.

“Thanks, er, what is it?� Ron asked, accepting the ball with some trepidation.

“It’s a Fibilius Fig,� Luna explained happily. “You eat it, and it makes you feel better.�

“Wouldn’t a bunch of grapes have been better?� Ron asked, eyeing the Fig suspiciously.

“Oh, no!� Luna said frantically, shaking her head and looking horrified at the very idea. “Grapes have often been infected with the juice of the Lachrimus Bug, which makes you feel worse. This is much better! I’ve got to go now, I told Colin I was only popping out for some food for Tiberius.�

“Who?�

“Colin, my husband, don’t you remember-�

“No, not Colin, Tiberius!� Ron said loudly, beginning to wish that he hadn’t asked.

“Tiberius – oh, you don’t know yet! We found a Crumple-Horned Snorkack when we were on honeymoon, so we brought him back and named him Tiberius. See you soon, Ronald.� And with that, she bounded to her feet, waved at him, slipped her balaclava back over her head and clambered out of the window, before he had a chance to reply.

“Thanks, Luna!� he yelled as she disappeared. Alone again, he looked at the pink ball still clutched in his hand. Hoping that he wouldn’t get any more late night visitors, Ron turned onto his side to try and get to sleep. The last thought in his head was an echo of Luna’s mystical, ethereal voice:

“No hope is false.�

"The supreme happiness in life is the conviction that we are loved - loved for ourselves, or rather, in spite of ourselves." - Victor Hugo

Ron remained in hospital for the following day, inexplicably receiving no visitors, after the influx of them during the night. Several of his brothers sent messages, mostly letting Ron know what an idiot he was, but adding that if he ever did want to talk then they were only an owl away. Even Fred and George wrote and told him to drop into the shop whenever he felt like it (although they said that this was only because they wanted a new test subject, Ron knew their true meaning, and was grateful for it). The Fibilius Fig remained untouched on his bedside table; Ron was rather unsure as to how to approach eating it, and for the moment preferred to stick with the hospital food.

Despite his having no visitors, Ron’s day was far from quiet, largely thanks to the hoards of screaming witches running through the hospital, trying in vain to find his room. His Healer told him that all the staff had been warned not to let on where Ron was staying, but nonetheless his fans kept coming, often cursing themselves to give them an excuse to go to St Mungo’s. Ron tried to apologise, but the Healer merely laughed good-naturedly.

“Don’t worry about it, dear boy,� he said, clapping Ron jovially on the shoulder. “The only inconvenience is having twice as much work to do, and the occasional turfing-out of over-enthusiastic groupies, but apart from that…�

“Well, I’ll be out tomorrow, so you can have some peace and quiet again,� Ron said, rather glad that he himself would get some of the same.

“As much as there ever is at St. Mungo’s,� the Healer remarked wryly. “Well, I’ll check you over before you leave tomorrow, but for the moment, could I ask you a favour?�

“Sure, name it – you saved my life after all,� Ron said with a grin.

“Would you mind signing a picture for my daughter? She’s a huge fan.� It was the Healer’s turn to look sheepish now, but Ron merely laughed and reached for the picture he was proffering. It showed Ron making his most spectacular save, against Ecuador in the last Quidditch World Cup. “Her name’s Abigail,� the Healer added helpfully. Ron signed the picture and handed it back, and the Healer pocketed it gratefully.

“Thanks for everything,� Ron called as the Healer backed out of the room, waving cheerfully.

Ron laid back on his pillows and looked out of the window at the London skyline. The sky was a bright blue, with a few clouds scudding across it, and the sun shone brilliantly onto the silvery roofs of central London offices. His thoughts turned to an idea that had occurred to him early that morning, and began to explore it in more detail. He had been thinking about how he would be moving back to his flat the next day, back to the lonely, dirty flat that now probably smelt horribly of stale beer. The thought depressed him greatly. Consequently, the idea of buying a new flat, perhaps even a house, was becoming more and more appealing; he could get a house in the country, not too far from Harry and Ginny’s. Due to his ‘accident’, as the press were calling it, he would not be returning to work for at least three months. The club said that it was because they wanted him to recuperate fully, but Ron knew that they were considering sacking him; they had tolerated their star player’s drinking for as long as they could, but a drink-fuelled suicide attempt was a step too far.

Perhaps it was for the best, Ron mused. He had a sufficient amount of money to live off for a good while, and the stress of having to constantly perform, along with travelling around the world, had contributed greatly to his drinking problem in the first place. He could retire from international and league Quidditch, and instead maybe train younger witches and wizards during their summer holidays. If he bought a house with large enough grounds, he would be able to set up a training ground where Muggles would not find it. The more he thought about it, the more Ron knew that this was the right course of action. He would announce his retirement before the club could sack him (the best thing for the images of himself and the club), buy a country house with lots of grounds, and advertise for his holiday Quidditch training scheme before Hogwarts broke up for the summer.

The only thing that threatened to burst the happy bubble that had welled inside of him was the thought of Hermione. He would simply have to learn to live without her, Ron supposed glumly. Perhaps he would occasionally owl her, let her know how he was getting on. And besides, he had Harry and Ginny, and maybe he would even one day find someone for him. For the moment, however, Ronald Weasley was merely glad to be alive.

*

Ron sent an owl to Harry and Ginny within ten minutes of arriving home the next day, letting them know of his plans, and asking them to keep a look out for any houses for sale near them. Only an hour after having sent it, however (during which Ron shoved the numerous beer bottles into bin bags with a slightly nauseous look on his face), there came a banging at his front door, and, upon opening it, Ron discovered the pair of them standing on his doorstep.

“What are you doing-�

“You are coming to live with us,� Ginny announced happily. “Until you find a place of your own; you will not spend another night in this hell hole, Ronald Weasley.�

“Come on, I can’t do that.�

“Why not?� asked Harry, suppressing a laugh with difficulty. “The old Ronald Weasley never minded kipping on my floor, usually after nights out when you were in no fit state to get home or refuse, yes, but nevertheless…� Ron grinned sheepishly.

“If you’re sure?�

“Ron, I am not asking you if you would like to come and live with us,� Ginny told him sternly, pushing past him into the flat and rolling up her sleeves. “I am telling you that you will come and live with us, from this very day. And when are you going to get the hang of cleaning spells? Scourgify!� The spilt beer on the floor disappeared, Ginny waved her wand again and the rubbish all over the floor flew into the bin bag Ron was still holding. Harry and Ron both watched, half-amused, half-slightly ashamed, as Ginny strode over to Ron’s closet, yanked out a tatty suitcase, waved her wand around the room, making all Ron’s clothes and possessions fly neatly into it.

“Does she do this at home?� Ron muttered to Harry, who nodded gravely.

“I am afraid so.�

“I have to do it at home,� Ginny interrupted loudly in a very Mrs. Weasley-ish way, making both boys jump, “because, due to some apparent genetic defect, males of the species are incapable of looking after themselves and tidying up, and unfortunately this defect even extends to the saviour of the world, better known to some as my husband.� Harry looked suitably abashed, but Ron spoke up.

“That’s untrue and unfair, Ginny, not all males are untidy and messy; Luna says that Colin’s very domesticated.�

“Yes, and he always cleans up after Tiberius,� Harry interjected helpfully. Ginny rolled her eyes, now attempting to close Ron’s suitcase.

“And Bill is very neat and tidy,� Ron added.

“True, although that’s because he doesn’t dare get on the wrong end of Fleur’s temper,� Harry admitted. “Anyway, I got the worst deal; I’m the one married to a female Weasley, your brothers don’t have to suffer the famous Weasley temper from their wives, but as for me – OW!� Ginny had thrown a shoe at him. “As for me,� Harry continued hastily, “I get the joy and blissful happiness of being married to the love of my life, who is absolutely wonderful in every way and never, ever loses her temper with me, especially when fuelled with pregnancy hormones.� He smiled winningly at Ginny, who merely threw the other shoe at him and tossed some Floo powder into Ron’s grate.

“Love you!� Harry called after her as she and the suitcase disappeared in a whirl of green. “And you can stop sniggering!� he snapped at Ron, who struggled to obey.

“Should I take the furniture?� Ron asked finally, once his fit of giggles had subsided. Harry surveyed the tattered cupboards and shelves around the room, then shook his head.

“You can always get some more, and we can’t have all this round our house anyway, not now we haven’t got a store room,� he told Ron.

“How come you haven’t got a store room?� Ron asked curiously. Harry shrugged.

“All the junk in the spare room is going in there to make room for a nursery,� he said pensively. “A nursery that I’m supposed to be decorating, when I get a spare moment from hunting down Dark Wizards, apparently. Well, according to She-Who-Must-Be-Obeyed, namely my wife, your darling sister.�

“Nothing like being under the thumb, eh?�

“Shut up.� The pair of them took a final look around the flat, checking cupboards and boxes to make sure that nothing was left behind. Finally, Harry threw more Floo powder into the grate and disappeared. Ron followed swiftly behind, holding the shoes that Ginny had thrown at Harry and, with a final look at the flat where he had been so miserable, was swept up in a flurry of green fire.

Moments later he came skidding out onto the stone flags of Harry and Ginny’s kitchen. Ginny was nowhere in sight, but Ron could hear her huffing about with his suitcase somewhere in the house; Harry, meanwhile, was brushing ash off his sleeve and straightening his glasses.

“Shouldn’t you be moving the suitcase?� Ron asked Harry, not without a trace of accusation. Harry stared at him as though he was mad. “She is pregnant,� Ron pointed out.

“Exactly,� Harry replied cryptically. Ron frowned, then decided to go after Ginny himself. He found her in the living room, attempting to drag the case across the room to slide it behind the sofa.

“Don’t you want me to do that, Ginny? I mean, shouldn’t you be taking it easy?� he asked helpfully. Behind him, Harry shook his head emphatically, but it was too late.

“I’m pregnant, Ron, I’m not an invalid!� She looked so fierce that Ron physically took a step backwards onto Harry’s foot.

“Alright!� he said hurriedly (he distinctly heard an ‘I warned you’ from Harry, along with numerous curses as he cradled his injured foot). “Well, can I get you anything? A cup of tea or something?� Ginny stared at him, and he could practically see the steam coming from her nostrils. He braced himself. Then suddenly, inexplicably-

“Oh, yes please, Ron, if you wouldn’t mind. Actually, could I have a banana with it, please? I think I’m going to like having you around, you’re far more use than that husband of mine,� Ginny said, beaming warmly at him. Ron stood frozen on the spot, mouth slightly open, then decided that it was probably best to just do what she said. Harry’s face, Ron saw when he turned round, was one that indicated that he was far too used to this behaviour by now to be surprised by it.

“That husband of yours that’s standing right here?� he called to his wife who had flopped down onto the sofa.

“That’s the one,� she shot back pointedly, her arms folded as she stared determinedly ahead of her.

“That husband of yours who’s offering to take you out to dinner tonight?�

“Yes, that one too,� Ginny replied, her voice softening. “That husband of mine who puts up with me and all my mood swings and is really quite wonderful, all things considered - do you know him?�

“I believe we’ve met,� Harry grinned, and he sat down on the sofa next to her. Ron returned a few moments later carrying three cups of tea on a tray and a banana. Ginny accepted the latter with a look of utter delight on her face, and proceeded to gobble it down as if she hadn’t eaten in days. Ron put her cup of tea down on the coffee table, passed Harry his, and then sat back on an armchair with his own.

“So what are you planning to do with your life?� Ginny asked her brother, struggling to swallow a rather large bit of banana. Ron explained all about the Quidditch training programme.

“What do you think?� he asked apprehensively. Ginny nodded appreciatively, her mouth full of banana, and gave him the thumbs up.

“It sounds like a great idea, Ron,� Harry said encouragingly. “I’m sure you could get McGonagall to advertise it at Hogwarts, and you could set up a Floo network to get the kids to you easily. I’ll help you out when I’m not busy.�

“You mean when you’re not busy hunting down Dark Wizards, finishing the nursery, and looking after the newest member of the Potter clan?� Ron said, chuckling. “You can come down as a celebrity coach for a time if you like. Ginny, you could come too, if you like. Maybe Fred and George too, then we’d have expert Chasers, Beaters and Seeker, plus me.� Ron’s face became more excited and alive with every passing moment, and this did not go unnoticed by Ginny and Harry.

“Harry, you wouldn’t mind getting me another banana, would you?� Ginny asked, smiling hopefully at her husband. Harry sighed, then heaved himself off the sofa. Ron jumped to his feet suddenly, spilling a few drops of hot tea down his t-shirt.

“I’ll help you,� he offered, hurrying to the door.

“Er, Ron, it’s one banana, not the whole tree,� Ginny shouted after him, but he merely waved in reply and disappeared down the passage to the kitchen. Harry shrugged and followed him, leaving Ginny alone in the living room. Ron waited until Harry was inside the kitchen, then hastened to shut the door behind him.

“Ron, what are you doing?� Harry asked curiously, reaching for one of the several bunches of bananas that lay on the kitchen work surface. “I can manage a bunch of bananas by myself.�

“Ginny said she only wanted one,� Ron pointed out; Harry was carrying six or seven bananas. Harry gave him a look that said, ‘Trust me, I know what I’m doing’, and Ron nodded wisely.

“So what’s going on?� Harry asked, watching Ron closely. “Is everything alright?�

“Oh, yeah, everything’s grand,� Ron said, his voice lowering to a whisper. “I just wanted to say thank you.�

“Er, ok…�

“Why don’t you and Ginny go out tonight, and I’ll pay,� Ron suggested, fishing in his pocket for a bag of Galleons.

“Ron, it doesn’t cost this much to go out to eat, even in London,� Harry said, trying to hand the bag back to Ron, but Ron was still talking.

“Stay in a posh hotel after, just don’t come home until tomorrow at noon,� Ron said, pushing the bag back at Harry. Harry took the bag, but was scrutinising Ron very closely.

“Why?�

“Ginny deserves some time to herself, and so do you,� Ron shrugged. Harry was still staring at him.

“Ron…� he began with a sigh. Ron looked questioningly at him. “Ron, don’t do it. Haven’t you learnt by now that it doesn’t do you any good?� Ron opened his mouth to interrupt but Harry held up a hand and went on. “If you do, and Ginny finds out, it will break her heart, and you won’t be able to stay here anymore. Ron, just-�

“I’m not getting you out of the house so I can drink, Harry,� Ron said quietly. Harry looked slightly embarrassed.

“Oh,� he said, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry, it’s just that… well, I know it’s the semi-final tonight, and I thought you might… you know…� his voice trailed off. Ron was not angry, instead he felt acutely embarrassed and ashamed.

“Natural reaction,� he muttered, waving away Harry’s apology. “No, there’s something I want to do to say thank you to both of you, but it’ll take me a while, so I’m just getting you out of the way, right?�

“Alright, but promise me, no alcohol?�

“I swear on my life.� Harry looked pointedly at him, and Ron realised that had probably not been the best phrase to use. He opened his mouth to attempt to rephrase it, but it was Harry’s turn to wave him aside.

“I trust you,� he said simply, then he left the kitchen, pocketing the bag of Galleons and carrying the bunch of bananas with him. Ron, on second thoughts, took another bunch of bananas, just in case.

*

Ginny was suspicious of Harry’s motives when he told her that he was taking her to a swanky hotel. His feeble excuses did not seem to cut the mustard with her and, in the end, Harry ended up practically forcing her out of the front door, carrying an overnight bag and patting his pockets for Ron’s bag of Galleons.

Ron waved cheerily as they left the house, and watched them all the way down the road until they rounded the corner. As soon as they were out of sight, he grabbed his jacket and hurried out of the house, locking the door with the spare key that Harry had given him.

He ran down the road in the opposite direction to Harry and Ginny, following the directions Harry had given him that led to the 24 hour hardware store. The clerk at the desk looked surprised to see him burst in, but, after a brief look up and down to check that Ron was not about to rob the store, he returned to his newspaper. Ron, meanwhile, was hurrying down the aisles, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. Upon the paper was a scribbled plan: Ginny’s plan for the nursery (he had seen it tacked to the wall in the empty spare room, and slipped it into his pocket). Below the plan was a list of items that needed to be procured – paint, carpet, curtains and so forth. Ron found the aisle full of paint, and quickly found the specific shade that Ginny had noted down on the piece of paper. Then he darted around the rest of the shop, gathering up various items, before paying for them with some Muggle money borrowed from Harry. He spent the next hour visiting various shops and purchasing all the things that Ginny wanted, plus a few extra of his own choosing. Finally, he headed back home, laden with bags and thinking that he would probably have been best buying the carpet first and taking it back to the house before buying everything else.

Eventually he made it back, and lugged all his purchases up to the spare room. Just as he was staring around, pleased with himself, he heard a sharp tapping on the window. Ron jumped and looked up: there was an owl rapping at the window, a large package tied to its brown legs.

“Excellent,� he muttered, hurrying to the window to let the owl in. Taking a scrap of paper, Ron scribbled, ‘Thanks’ and attached it to the owl’s leg, removing the heavy package as he did so. The owl hooted in an efficient sort of way, and took off again, soaring into the night. Ron closed the window, and opened the parcel to reveal a large, heavy spell book – ‘Charming Rooms’. He knew that Hermione would have had some kind of book on the subject, and she had not disappointed.

Ron set to work, charming paint onto walls, carpet onto floors and flat-pack furniture together. While he was waiting for the paint to dry, Ron wandered downstairs to get some tea. He noticed that Harry appeared to have taken several bananas as a wise precaution, and suddenly he remembered what Harry had mentioned earlier. It was the semi-final today. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Ron noticed that he was just in time to catch the end of the programme. He hurried to the living room and switched on the TeleWizion, where Bruce’s cheerful face beamed back at him. With a slight pang, Ron realised that he’d been in that very studio only one week before, with Hermione by his side.

“So you, the public, have voted for the three couples that you want to see in the final next week, but now we have a twist to announce!� Bruce seemed so pleased and excited he looked as though he might burst. “The lines are now open for you to choose your Wild Card Couple, that is, the one couple from the whole series that you want to see in the final next week! Yes, from the couple sent home in the first week to Gabi and Michael going home tonight, you, the viewers, have the power to vote one couple back into the competition! We’ll be back in one hour to announce the results!�

The closing credits began to roll, but Ron did not move. He was staring in horror at the set, thoughts coursing through his head, emotions colliding in a confused tangle. One couple was going to be voted back into the competition? Would it be… No, it couldn’t be him and Hermione, it simply couldn’t be. Besides, it wasn’t like they had done a great last dance the week before; their rumba had been terrible. Ron didn’t even think he wanted to be back in the competition, after all, the situation between Hermione and himself had only just settled, and he couldn’t face it all again. And yet…

Ron sighed, and mechanically switched off the set. Forgetting all about his dinner in the oven, he walked as if in a dream back to the spare room, the walls of which were nearly dry. Absentmindedly, Ron waved his wand around, generating a breeze in order to dry the paint more quickly. Once it was dry, he set to work on the rest of the room, laying the carpet and arranging the furniture. Finally, the sound of the smoke alarm reminded him of his dinner, and he hurtled downstairs before he set the house on fire (he didn’t think that Ginny, especially a pregnant Ginny, would take too kindly to returning home to a pile of ash). Twenty minutes until the results. Ron cleaned the mess that he had made of Ginny’s oven, then made himself a sandwich instead. As the clock chimed to say that it was time, he moved slowly to the living room, afraid of what the result would be.

“Welcome back to our semi-final!� Bruce beamed.

“Shut up, Bruce, and get on with it,� Ron muttered darkly.

“We now have the results in, and can tell you who your Wild Card Couple is! A very popular couple, both on and off the screen, with drama and passion in their dancing and in their own lives off the floor. This couple has seen more ups and downs than the rest put together, and surely this last twist will prove the greatest of all. The couple coming back to the competition for the final next week is…�

Ron buried his head in his hands. He had a horrible feeling…

“Ron and Hermione!�

“Oh no,� Ron groaned aloud, collapsing onto the sofa. Whatever happened, this would not go well.

“Immature love says, ‘I love you because I need you.’ Mature love says, ‘I need you because I love you.’� – Erich Fromm

Ron awoke the following morning curled up on the newly carpeted floor of the nursery. Stretching his aching joints, he looked around him with pride: Ginny and Harry could not fail to be pleased with his efforts. When he shuffled, yawning, to the kitchen to make some breakfast, he heard a loud tapping on the window. Turning to squint in the direction of the bright sunlight streaming through the window, he glimpsed a feathery something outside, banging to come in.

When he opened the window and let the owl in, Ron realised it was an official owl of some sort: it had a tag around its left leg emblazoned with a brilliant blue logo. Shifting his eyes into focus, Ron recognised the logo as that of the TeleWizion company, and he groaned, plonking the owl down rather unceremoniously on the work surface. It seemed that the owl was not prepared to wait for Ron to get around to releasing the letter it was clutching in its beak, instead preferring to zoom at his head in a bid to get his attention.

“Ow! Alright, alright, I’ll take the letter,� Ron yelled, grabbing the owl and snatching the letter. “There, happy now?� The owl soared out of the window and Ron, irritated, slammed the window behind it. He proceeded to open the letter, slightly wary of what it might tell him, but it was only a few lines long.

‘Dear Mr Weasley,

We are pleased to inform you that you and your partner, Miss Granger, have been voted back into the final of our esteemed dance competition, Strictly Come Dancing. You may perform three dances in the final, two from your existing repertoire, followed by a final freestyle show-dance, in which you may perform a maximum of four lifts.

However, we have so far been unable to communicate this message to Miss Granger, as our owls appear unable to locate her. We hope that you will kindly inform her yourself, and we look forward to seeing both you and Miss Granger on Saturday morning at 8:00 am for rehearsals.

Congratulations and keep on dancing!’

Ron read through the letter once more, then screwed it up and threw it in the bin. Why couldn’t they get through to Hermione? They were ‘unable to locate her’? What did that mean? How did they expect him to contact her, when he no longer had an owl (Pigwidgeon having taken rather a liking to the female owl belonging to Gabrielle Delacour, and apparently preferring her company to Ron’s)? Of course, the owl the previous night had managed to get Hermione’s book from her, but if the TeleWizion company couldn’t contact her, it seemed unlikely that the same bird could find her now, especially since Alex was probably doing his utmost to cut off all contact. He couldn’t use Hedwig, she was too old for deliveries now, and Ginny did not have an owl. But he needed to let Hermione know about the final, or he’d be turning up on Saturday morning alone. There was nothing for it: he’d have to go and drag Pig back from his ladylove.

Ron found a small pinch of Floo powder in a pot on the mantelpiece and, with some trepidation, threw it in the grate and shouted, “Maison d’Amore, London!� Trust Fleur to name her house ‘House of Love’ in French, even though it was a modest detached house in central London. Gabrielle, he knew, had been living with Bill and Fleur since coming to England, working alongside her sister at Gringotts.

Ron shot out onto the rich mahogany wood floor of his brother’s living room, causing a shower of soot to settle on a lush cream rug

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Ron!� said a familiar voice. Ron looked up to see his eldest brother in a dressing gown, staring aghast at the mess on the rug.

“Morning, Bill,� Ron muttered, getting to his feet and brushing more soot off himself (onto the rug). Bill groaned and glared irritably at his youngest brother.

“You’d best get out of here quick, unless you want a scorned French woman’s wrath coming down on you,� Bill told him, slipping out of the room and returning with a dustpan. “What are you doing here anyway?�

“I need Pig,� Ron said breathlessly, and he proceeded to explain about his urgent need to contact Hermione. Bill waved his wand casually and the dustpan proceeded to sweep up most of the soot.

“Come back in about three hours or so, Gabrielle generally doesn’t surface until around lunchtime�

“I really need him as soon as possible,� Ron pleaded. “Come on, Bill, can’t you sneak him out of her room?� Bill sighed, but finally nodded.

“I’ll see what I can do,� he muttered, heading resignedly out of the living room. Ron heard his heavy footsteps striding up the stairs, followed by silence. Then, suddenly, there was an ear-piercing shriek, a loud cry of “OW!� and several painful-sounding bangs. The next thing he knew, Bill’s footsteps were hurrying down the stairs again, and moments later, he was back in the living room, clutching a feathery bundle in one hand, and holding the other to his head.

“Er…� Ron began uncertainly, as Bill limped towards him and thrust the bird into Ron’s hand.

“Gabrielle woke up and thought I was a burglar,� Bill groaned, sinking onto the sofa gingerly. “Though why she keeps a fire poker under her bed I shall never know. Anyway, you really had best be off, unless you want the joint wraths of two French women on your head, and, trust me, you don’t.� Ron grinned, gave a cheery wave to Bill, then threw some Floo powder into the grate and headed for Harry and Ginny’s once more.

Once he was back, Ron hastened to find parchment and ink, and set about writing the following letter:

‘Dear Hermione,

I know we agreed to stay apart and everything, but I have to let you know that we’ve been voted back into the competition. I know, I’m not chuffed about it either, believe me, but the viewers have spoken. We’ve got to do two of the dances that we’ve already done, and a new ‘show-dance’ or something, we can do lifts in it and everything!

I’m sorry about this, I know it would be easier for everyone concerned if we just kept away from each other, but what can I do? They’re expecting us at 8 on Saturday morning, but we’ll need to rehearse in the week – where do you want to rehearse? (I’m guessing your house is out of the question, all things considered). The TeleWizion company tried to contact you, but I know that if anyone can get in touch with you, Pig can.

Let me know ASAP.
Ron

PS Thanks for the DIY book, you should see the nursery, it’s brilliant!’

Ron read the letter through twice before he was satisfied. Finally he rolled it up and turned to the fluffy little owl pottering happily about the writing desk.

“Pig, come here, mate.� Ron snatched Pig up and the tiny owl cooed joyfully, pleased to be back with his master. Ron tied the scroll to Pig’s foot, then held him up to his face, looking serious. “I need you to take this to Hermione, OK? She might be difficult to find, but you’ve always managed to find her before, so don’t fail me this time, alright?� Pig let out a tiny hoot and bit Ron on the nose. Satisfied that his owl had got the message, Ron opened the kitchen window once more and threw Pig out into the breeze. He watched until he could no longer see the owl, then pensively closed the window.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of the front door opening. Upon entering the hall, he saw Harry struggling up the front steps with numerous shopping bags, Ginny following behind carrying the smallest one.

“Have a good time?� Ron asked, staring in perplexity at the mass of bags. Harry gave him a look that clearly said, ‘Don’t ask.’

“Harry took me shopping!� Ginny said brightly. “We bought lots of things for the baby, look…� She proceeded to drag things out of various bags that Harry had now dumped on the hall floor, and showed them to Ron – toys, books, and very small clothes.

“Speaking of the baby,� Ron said, interrupting Ginny’s flow and patting her bump, “I have something to show you.�

Intrigued, Harry and Ginny followed Ron up the stairs as he led them to the nursery door. On the door was a plaque that simply said, ‘Room’.

“You charm it to say whatever name you like once you’ve decided,� Ron explained at Harry and Ginny’s perplexed looks. Finally, he pushed the door open to reveal his masterpiece.

Ginny screamed. In delight she bounded into the room, followed (at a steadier pace) by Harry. Both stood in the very centre of the room, staring around them in wonder.

“It’s just like the design!� Ginny squealed, leaping over to Ron and throwing her arms around his neck. “Thank you so much!�

“Well,� Ron muttered, slightly embarrassed but secretly pleased, “it was to say thanks to you, really, for putting up with me.�

“I’ll put up with you for as long as you like if this is what I get in return!� Ginny said, muffled. Ron got the strong impression that she was crying into his shoulder.

“Thanks, mate,� Harry said fervently, running a finger along the edge of the newly-built crib. “You’ve saved me a job.� Ron grinned in reply and, with difficulty, extricated himself from Ginny’s grip. He was just about to start showing them the finer points of his handiwork when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,� Ron offered, leaving the two of them still gawping around the room in awe. “I’ll bring up the stuff you bought when I come back.� Pleased with himself, Ron strode out of the room and down the stairs. His good mood was significantly dampened, however, when he opened the front door.

“Hello, Ron.�

It was Alex.

For a moment, Ron stood there, mind blank, staring at Alex’s perfectly expressionless face. Then, in a snap decision, he swung the door shut again.

“Ron!� Alex banged on the door. “I have to speak to you!� Ron stood motionless at the bottom of the stairs, trying to decide what to do. “I got your owl!� Ron glanced up the stairs, wondering how Harry and Ginny would react to finding Alex in their house. Just as he opened the door again to tell Alex he would meet him somewhere else, he heard footsteps behind him on the stairs and, when he spun round, saw Harry’s stunned face staring behind Ron to where Alex was standing. For a moment, nobody spoke. Harry descended the last few steps in silence, the look on his face indecipherable.

“You’re Harry Potter,� Alex said finally. “You defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.�

“You nearly killed my wife,� Harry growled in reply. “And child,� he added as Alex opened his mouth to speak again.

“I’m sorry about that,� Alex said, and Ron was shocked to hear a faint note of sincerity in his voice. “I just needed to get back what was mine.� He said this absurd sentence with such casualness that Harry was momentarily stunned, taking a step back away from the threshold.

“Hermione is not yours,� Harry said forcibly. “Neither is she Ron’s. Hermione is her own person, not a possession to be fought over like a toddler’s toy. You’ve got five minutes,� he added to Ron. “Find out what he wants, then get rid of him. I’ll make sure Ginny doesn’t come down, if she sees him…� his voice trailed off. Ron shook his head.

“I’ll take him somewhere else, Harry, we don’t have to stay here,� he began, but Harry cut him off.

“I’d prefer it if he were here, where we can help you if he tries anything,� he said pointedly. “And if you do try anything,� he added in a louder tone to Alex, “not only will you suffer my wrath, but you will also have a quick-tempered, pregnant, female Weasley to contend with, and, believe me, my wife in a temper is a force to be reckoned with.� With that he turned on his heel and hurried back up the stairs, from where they could hear Ginny calling his name.

“Five minutes,� Ron snapped at Alex, pointing him into the living room and shutting the door behind him.

Alex sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa, but Ron settled for standing by the fireplace. What did Alex want? Why hadn’t Pig delivered the note to Hermione? Had Alex done something to her?

“Hermione won’t be able to come on Saturday,� Alex said calmly and evenly. “She is otherwise engaged.� Ron scrutinised him closely. His face was still completely blank.

“What have you done to her?� The question burst forth before he could help it. Alex turned his head slowly to look directly into Ron’s face.

“I’ve saved her life, I’ve helped her get her life together, and I’ve given her the security that you never could,� he said simply. “And on Saturday, we’re getting married.� Ron gaped, lost for words.

“W-What?� he spluttered finally.

“This Saturday, at half past one, Hermione Granger and I will marry,� Alex repeated slowly and carefully, as if he were speaking to someone very dense.

“But Hermione doesn’t want to marry you,� Ron said bluntly. “She doesn’t want to be your wife.�

“She’ll be saying some vows on Saturday that rather contradict that statement, Ron.�

“Look, Alex.� Ron was talking quickly, although he wasn’t quite sure why; there was a distinct yet inexplicable urgency in his voice. “Hermione told me about how she met you and how you got to be together. And, actually, I should thank you.�

“What?�

“You gave her what she needed at the right time, and when neither Harry nor me could give it to her. But do you know why that is?� Ron’s voice was becoming louder, full of confidence and (he realised, quickly trying to repress it) emotion. “It’s because we’d all been through too much together. Hermione, Harry and I, it was like we’d been to the end of the world and back again; for seven years we’d struggled together, through death and disaster, and it was too much for Hermione. It was too much for all of us – none of us could give the others what they needed once it was all over. We were too close to everything that had happened. We’d stood on the edge of that precipice and now had to step back, and we all ran away, in different directions. Harry found Ginny. And Hermione found you. But that doesn’t mean she wants you.�

Alex was watching Ron closely. For a moment, Ron thought he detected a shift in Alex’s blank expression, as if he were letting a mask slip, but soon his face was smooth and inscrutable again.

“Hermione is marrying me,� he repeated, more to himself than to Ron.

“You say you saved her life,� Ron went on. “Do you really want to take it away? I know about your past, Alex, I know that you’re afraid of being left alone. But if you force Hermione into this life with you, then you will be subjecting her to a life of misery and loneliness. She can never be truly happy with just you in her life, Alex, and I think you know that.�

“I need Hermione,� Alex said suddenly, and his voice had become more of a whine.

“You need help,� Ron replied quietly. “If you marry Hermione, you’ll lose her forever. If you think she’ll be able to love you even when you’ve forced her to do that, then you’re more deluded than I thought.� There was silence, in which Ron could hear faint voices from upstairs; clearly Harry was trying to stop Ginny from coming downstairs and discovering Alex.

“I’ve seen it in her eyes,� Alex muttered finally. “She loves you. She always has. Whenever she spoke about you… Her eyes, they say more than her mouth does. They would light up whenever she spoke about her time with you and Harry. I’ve known it for so long. But I love her.�

“If you love her, and want her to be happy, then won’t you make the biggest sacrifice for her?�

“You mean, if I love her, let her go?� Alex asked, a note of disdain in his voice. “That doesn’t work in real life.�

“It can,� Ron said heavily. “Harry and I could have gone after her to bring her back from the Muggle world, but we didn’t. Because we love her.�

“You don’t mean any of this,� Alex spat. “You just want her for yourself.�

“Nothing in the world would make me happier,� Ron agreed. “But this isn’t about me, or you. This is about Hermione. We both care for her, and we both want her to be happy. The only difference is that you have the power to make that happen. It’s out of my hands.�

Suddenly there were the sounds of rapid footsteps on the stairs, a shout of, “Ginny!� and the door flew open. Ron and Alex both looked up to see the shocked face of Ginny standing there, staring at Alex in disbelief. A brief pause.

“Harry!� Harry came skidding into the room behind Ginny just as she called his name.

“Ginny, I’m sorry-� he began.

“Why is he in our house?� Ginny asked, sounding inexplicably calm. The calm before the storm, Ron figured.

“Er…� Harry began, looking to Ron for help.

“Why are you in our house?� Ginny said, now talking directly to Alex. He paused for a moment, unsure of whether he should reply or not.

“I came to tell Ron that Hermione and I are getting married,� he said finally. Ginny’s face showed no reaction.

“How nice for you,� she said, in a tone that suggested she felt rather differently. “When is this happy union taking place?�

“Saturday at half past one.�

“And whereabouts?�

“Well, I don’t know if I should-�

“Hermione is my friend, and I would like to go to her wedding. I know I would have liked her at mine,� Ginny said, still dangerously calm.

“Perhaps she would rather,� Alex began, but Ginny picked up the large umbrella propped against the sofa, wielding it like a sword, “er, perhaps she would rather let you know by invitation,� he finished hastily.

“Or you could tell me now,� Ginny prompted, drawing her wand in the umbrella-free hand.

“Before you discover whether it really is unlucky to have an umbrella up indoors,� Harry added helpfully. Alex looked desperately at Ron, but he was standing with arms folded, looking expectant.

“She has a mean Bat-Bogey Hex,� was his only contribution. Defeated, Alex sighed.

“The registry office in the town,� he said finally. “Ron knows where the house is.� Ginny looked to Ron for confirmation, and he obliged, nodding swiftly.

“That’s wonderful; I’ll see you there on Saturday,� Ginny told him, smiling winningly but maintaining her grip on the umbrella nonetheless. “You can get out of this house now.� She now pointed at the open door with the umbrella.

Alex did not need telling twice. He jumped to his feet and rushed out, Harry obligingly holding the front door open for him and slamming it behind him. Ginny turned to look pointedly at Ron.

“I’m sorry, Ginny, I shouldn’t have let him in.� Ginny shrugged, and sank onto the sofa with a sigh. Harry helpfully took the umbrella from her to put it back in its place, and she returned her wand to her pocket.

“Harry, we’re going to need to go shopping again,� she said finally. Harry looked questioningly at her. “We’re going to a wedding, dear,� she explained, “and I need a new dress.� Ron and Harry both stared in disbelief.

“You mean you’re actually going to the wedding?� Ron asked incredulously.

“Well, I’m going to the registry office,� Ginny mused, looking around for something. “Harry, have we got anymore bananas?�

“Er…� Harry slipped out to the kitchen, but returned empty-handed. “No, you, er, ate them all.�

“Would you mind?� Ginny asked, a hopeful smile on her face. Harry sighed, but nodded.

“Anything for you, light of my life,� he muttered, heading to the hall to pull on his coat. As the front door swung shut, they heard a rumble of thunder.

“He’s not half bad, my husband, is he?� Ginny wondered aloud, settling back into the sofa. “But what are we going to do?�

“What?� Ron saw the look on Ginny’s face that did not bode well; it was a face which told him she was plotting and scheming.

“About the wedding,� Ginny said, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, obviously we can’t actually let Hermione marry him… What about kidnap?�

“Ginny, we are not going to kidnap Hermione.�

“Well, let’s look at the facts, ok? You do not want Hermione to marry Alex. I do not want Hermione to marry Alex. Harry does not want Hermione to marry Alex. Most importantly, Hermione doesn’t want to marry Alex. Alex is wrong in the head. Alex needs help.�

“And Hermione has to dance on Saturday with me,� Ron added thoughtfully. Ginny looked up at him, surprised, and Ron remembered that he hadn’t told her yet. He explained about the competition and Ginny’s eyes seemed to light up with each passing second he talked.

“She can’t marry Alex if she’s at the dance show with you,� she pointed out, once Ron had finished.

“But she doesn’t know about the dance show,� Ron explained. “I haven’t been able to contact her; I sent Pig but Alex intercepted him.�

“Well, I’ll owl her from the Post Office and see if we get a reply. If not, we’ll go and find her when we know where she’ll be, we’ll explain about the competition and she will at least have to postpone the wedding,� Ginny said reasonably, but Ron was shaking his head.

“She won’t come, because she thinks she’s doing the right thing by everybody by marrying Alex, and Alex probably won’t let her. Besides, where are we going to find her? Even if she is at the house, Alex will be there and will throw us out quicker than you can say foxtrot.�

“We know where she’ll be at half past four on Saturday afternoon,� Ginny said slyly. “At the registry office.� Ron was silent, wondering if she really meant what he thought she meant.

“You mean,� he said finally, “we’re going to go to the wedding on Saturday, corner Hermione before it, tell her about the competition, get her to cancel or postpone the wedding, whisk her across London to the studios, where we have all of three hours or so to come up with a whole new routine and practise three new ones?�

Ginny nodded, beaming. Ron groaned.

“Ginny, I don’t think-�

“Faint heart never won fair lady, Ron,� Ginny said gently. “I know that you say you’ve let Hermione go, and I respect that. But you getting back into the competition is, frankly, a miracle. I don’t hold much store in Divination, but I really think that this is actually the best thing that could have happened. It's a sign. You’ve been given a final chance, Ron, and the last thing you want to do is blow it. Who cares if the plan’s farfetched? Isn’t she worth it? What have you got to lose?�

Ron sat down in an armchair and thought in silence for a good long while. The sound of the front door opening echoed through to the living room, and Ginny hurried to greet Harry, but did not return. Ron was left alone with his thoughts, watching as the grey sheets of rain pounded the window, pondering Ginny’s final words. He really did have nothing to lose, and possibly everything to gain. Luna’s words came floating back to him, “No hope is false.� Perhaps the splinter of hope that had burgeoned alongside the anxiety about any trouble caused by being back in the competition, perhaps it could be real, genuine. Maybe Ginny was right, and this was a final chance given to him to sort out this mess once and for all.

One thing was now certain: Ronald Weasley was going to do everything he could to stop that wedding.

“Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you have to be involved with them. Love is not a bandage to cover wounds.� ~ Hugh Elliott

Just as Ron suspected, the Post Owl that Ginny sent to Hermione returned with no reply. When Ginny determinedly maintained that she would march over to Hermione’s house and bang on the door until it was answered, Ron was forced to take her to the house, but again they received no answer.

“Well, we’ll just have to turn up on Saturday and hope for the best,� Ginny said as she sat on the sofa, a bunch of bananas on the table and an open jar of peanut butter in her hand. Ron stared at her morosely.

“Hope for the best?� he repeated hollowly. “That makes me confident.� Ginny snorted.

“What else are you going to do? Don’t you remember what Dad always said?�

“You mean apart from, ‘I love Muggles and I’m going to go and be one’?� Ron grumbled, reaching over to eat some of the peanut butter.

“Apart from that; he always said, ‘What’s the use of giving up when you haven’t tried everything?’ Of course, that was always when he was attempting to encourage wizard-Muggle relations, but still, I feel it’s applicable.� She scooped out a lump of peanut butter and examined it closely. “And he also said, ‘So things went wrong once, twice, seven times, it doesn’t mean they will the next.� Ron looked at his sister, a puzzled look on his face.

“He never said that to me,� he said slowly, eyeing her shrewdly. Ginny shrugged and ate the peanut butter.

“He said it to me all the time,� she replied nonchalantly. “He used to write it in letters to me, all through second year and some of third.� Ron was silent, still carefully contemplating his sister. Ginny’s face was smooth and unreadable, her eyes looking out of the window ahead, the peanut butter jar in one hand and the other resting subconsciously on her bump. The index finger was lifted into the air so as not to get the sticky peanut butter on her clothes. He’d never really spoken to her about what had happened in her first year. She never brought it up, and he didn’t like to mention it. He wondered suddenly what it must be like to go through something like that, to live knowing that a whole year of your life had been stolen by someone, all of your thoughts and memories taken, manipulated and abused. And suddenly Ron felt ashamed, ashamed that he’d never asked his sister whether she was alright, never offered her a big brother’s shoulder to cry on, never just given her that warm, comforting smile.

“Do you still think about it?� he asked now, softly. “About, you know… Riddle.�

Ginny did not look surprised. Instead she let out a tiny, knowing sigh, and her fingers gently rubbed her bump.

“Sometimes,� she said finally, still staring out of the window. “Not as much as I used to. But back then, in my second year… Everybody knew, you know. I’d walk into the Great Hall and I could feel people looking at me, and even if they’d only heard it as a rumour, I just felt that they knew. I felt so guilty, so ashamed.�

“It wasn’t your fault,� Ron reminded her quietly. Ginny shook her head.

“I know, and I can tell myself that. But back then, I was spending all my time thinking about it. I wouldn’t walk down that corridor, the one where I left the messages. I never went back down it in all my time at Hogwarts. Stupid, I know. I just kept trying to remember what happened, and I would see the people that I knew I had attacked, and I’d be wondering, ‘What did I do to you?’ And I couldn’t trust anyone, not even myself… not for years.�

“But you trusted Harry,� Ron pointed out. Ginny smiled happily.

“Yes. When we went off to the Department of Mysteries, and we were riding those Thestral things in mid-air, I just thought, ‘You’re doing it again, Ginny, putting your life in the hands of some guy and just hoping that he won’t take it away.’�

“Harry wouldn’t do that to anyone,� Ron said, almost harshly. “He could never do it, especially to you.�

“I know,� Ginny said quietly. “And then I knew that was the difference between him and Voldemort. Plain and simple. They’re both powerful, they’re connected by that Prophecy, they’re both half-bloods… They’re so similar in so many ways. But then I knew the most important difference between them; Harry loved and respected people, he loved and respected life. Even though Voldemort desired life so badly that he split his soul to keep it, Harry cared about living the one life given to him, using that life, and he cared for the lives of others. So I knew that I was safe with Harry.�

“You do have a way with words,� Ron told her, laughing to cover the true feelings he was experiencing. He couldn’t tell Ginny that he understood completely what she had just said, that she had expressed more eloquently, succinctly and simply everything that made Harry who he was. “You’re lucky.�

“Yeah, I am,� Ginny sighed, rubbing the bump again. “Let’s just hope that you get lucky with Hermione. She means just as much to you, I know.�

Ron made no reply to this, but no reply was necessary. He was still processing the sudden realisation of just how much his little sister had grown up and he had never noticed, as if one day she were a little girl, and the next a woman.

“Love’s a funny thing, isn’t it?� Ginny said now, leaning back into the sofa. Ron let out a slight humourless laugh.

“It certainly is,� he muttered. “What if Hermione does marry Alex?�

“Then I think we’ll either have to think of another plan, or… we accept it,� Ginny said firmly, patting him on the knee. “But I think this might just work. I’ve got a feeling.�

“In your waters?� Ron asked jokingly. Ginny swatted at his arm.

“In my heart,� she assured him and he stuck his tongue out at her.

“Speaking of our favourite saviour-of-the-world,� Ron said, glancing at his watch, “where is the Chosen One?�

“He went out to do the shopping,� Ginny replied, looking slightly worried. “I felt a bit tired, so he offered to go. I wrote him a list, and it’s not that I don’t trust him, but still…�

“He can save the world but can’t find his way around a supermarket?� Ron quipped.

“Something like that.�

At that moment there came the sound of the front door opening, followed by the sound of someone who was clearly trying to negotiate their way inside with many shopping bags. A few moments later and Harry entered the room, rain dripping from his coat onto the floor.

“Horrible weather,� he said in greeting. Ginny leapt up to help, but then clutched at her side suddenly with a painful wince.

“Ginny? What’s wrong?� Ron said hurriedly, grabbing her elbow and lowering her back down to the sofa, as Harry quickly set the bags down and came to her side.

“It’s nothing, I think I must have pulled something,� Ginny said, waving him away but still with a slightly concerned look on her face. “I’m fine, honestly. Here, let me help you.�

“You’re staying there,� Harry told her firmly, looking concernedly down at her. “We’ll do this. You can entertain our guest.� Ginny stared at him, eyes narrowed.

“Guest?�

“I invited someone around, just for a short while,� Harry said, with a mysterious grin on his face. “She should be arriving in a few seconds…� Just then there was a bang from the fireplace and a short, middle-aged witch appeared in the grate.

“Mrs Potter?� she asked cheerily, brushing ash from her robes.

“Madam Malkin!� Ginny exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing here?�

“Well, you said you wanted a new dress, I thought I’d pay for some new dress robes for you. She’s here to measure you, then I can pick up the robes tomorrow morning,� Harry told her. Ginny beamed at him excitedly.

“I wasn’t being serious!� she laughed, but still (with the help of Ron) got to her feet. “But I’m not complaining.�

Ron and Harry carried the shopping through to the kitchen, and they could hear the sounds of Ginny and Madam Malkin already chatting away, about the baby and when Ginny was due and what names they’d been thinking of.

“Nervous about tomorrow?� Harry asked Ron, as he piled peanut butter jars into the larder. Ron shrugged.

“I feel like it’s all or nothing,� he admitted, emptying an entire bag of bananas into the fruit bowl. “Tomorrow’s ‘The Day’, you know?�

“You’ll be fine,� Harry told him. “I bet everything works out.�

“Let me guess, you’ve got a feeling in your heart,� Ron said sarcastically. Harry shook his head and clapped his friend on the shoulder.

“Nah. In my waters.�

*

Dinner at the Potters’ that evening was a quiet affair; Ron, Harry and Ginny all seemed to be preoccupied with the prospect of the next day’s events. Ginny in particular seemed distant, eating hardly any of the shepherd’s pie that Harry and Ron had managed to cook. Harry, scrutinising his wife closely, ordered her to go and sit down in the living room while he and Ron cleared away. They were successful insofar as clearing the table, but when it came to actually washing all of the pots and pans, both boys bailed. Leaving the dishes in a sink full of boiling soapy water, they joined Ginny in the living room. Ron thought the smile she gave the pair of them was a little forced, but was too preoccupied with thoughts of Hermione to bring it up. The three of them merely sat quietly, until Harry dozed off in his armchair, leaving Ron and Ginny both staring thoughtfully into the fire. A sharp intake of breath from Ginny made Ron look up. She was clutching her side, a pained wince etched on her face.

“What is it?� he asked quietly, not wanting to wake Harry. He suspected that this was what had been preoccupying Ginny all evening, but knew how irritated she got when she was fussed over.

“I keep getting this pain right here.� Ginny indicated the right hand side of her bump, still frowning. “I thought it was just a strain, but it just won’t go away.�

“Do you want to go to St Mungo’s?� asked Ron, as calmly as he could. He didn’t want her to fly off the handle.

“Not yet,� Ginny said slowly, and Ron saw her glance at the sleeping Harry. “It’s just a twinge. If it’s still there in the morning, we’ll go then. I don’t want to worry Harry over nothing,� she added suddenly. “Everything’s so busy at the moment and you know what he’s like.�

“If there’s something wrong he should know,� Ron told her firmly. “He’d hate it if something happened to you or to the baby. He’d hate himself for letting it happen.� Ginny nodded, turning back to the fire.

“If it gets any worse at all, even in the middle of the night, I promise I will wake him up and make him take me to St Mungo’s,� she assured him. “I think it’s time for me to go to bed, big day tomorrow and all that.� Ron helped her out of her chair and she shuffled, yawning, over to where Harry was sleeping.

“Harry?� She shook his elbow gently and kissed him tenderly on his forehead. “Harry, love, are you coming to bed?� Harry jerked awake, his glasses slipping to the end of his nose, and glanced around to see his wife smiling back at him.

“I might stay up for a while,� Ron muttered. “Stuff to think about.� Ginny nodded and, as Harry got up and stretched, yawning widely, she surprised Ron by giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Ron was left alone, watching the few remaining flames dance and flicker in the grate. He allowed himself to get lost in thought; thoughts of Hermione, thoughts of the dancing competition, thoughts of his sister and of Harry. He realised suddenly that so many things rested on tomorrow. Would Ginny be alright? Would he dance in the show? Would Hermione get married? It seemed that there was only one day in the world that mattered and Ron was counting down the seconds to its dawn.

And so it was that he awoke early with the dawn next morning slouched on the sofa, having fallen into a restless sleep somewhere around one o’clock. The sun was just peeking through the trees around Harry and Ginny’s house, casting slanting silvery rays across the living room. The house was silent; Ron supposed Harry and Ginny were still asleep. With a stretch, he got up from the sofa and shuffled out to the kitchen, where he was greeted with the sight of last night’s washing up still sitting in its – now freezing cold – bowl of water. Ron set to work with a resigned sigh, unable to remember the charm for washing up; better to force himself to wash the dishes than face Ginny’s wrath when she realised that they hadn’t done them. By the time he’d finished, the sun had risen properly and Ginny and Harry had emerged though, luckily for the two boys, Ginny arrived in the kitchen moments after Ron had put the last glass away in the cupboard.

“Did you get any sleep?� Ginny asked incredulously as she opened the fridge to get the milk. Ron shrugged.

“A little,� he admitted, truthfully. Ginny said nothing, but raised an eyebrow as though she didn’t believe him. Harry was sitting at the breakfast table, looking possibly more tired than he had the night before. He and Ginny had a pact that, since she was not allowed to drink coffee, Harry too would abstain for the duration of the pregnancy, and it was safe to say that he seemed to be feeling the effects more than Ginny. Apparently having found no milk in the fridge, Ginny glanced at the calendar and, with a sigh of realisation that Ron took to mean that the milkman was making his delivery today, she closed the fridge with an irritated snap.

“D’you want me to-� Ron began, but Ginny had already marched from the kitchen and out towards the front door. They heard the sounds of the front door opening, bottles clinking and the door shutting again. Then, suddenly-

“OH!�

The crash of glass sent both Ron and Harry sprinting to the hallway, all tiredness forgotten. Ginny was clutching the bottom banister of the staircase, doubled over and grimacing in pain, while the milk bottles she had been carrying lay smashed on the floor around her feet, milk oozing into the carpet.

“Ginny?� Harry asked urgently, rushing to her side and grabbing her arm. “What is it?� Ginny did not reply; her face contorted with pain as she shook her head wordlessly. Ron stood motionless in the kitchen doorway, stricken, unsure of what he should do.

“St Mungo’s,� Ginny managed to gasp, gripping onto Harry’s shoulder with her free hand. “Please…� She didn’t have to say anymore; Harry half-carried his wife into the living room, where Ron was now already throwing Floo Powder into the grate.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want, mate. We don’t know how long we’ll be,� Harry said hurriedly to Ron, looking around at the clock, but Ron shook his head firmly.

“I’m coming with you,� he said resolutely, barely glancing at the time. “She’s my sister.�

“If you love somebody, let them go. If they return, they were always yours. If they don’t, they never were.� ~ Kahlil Gibran

The reception at St Mungo’s was crowded; apparently Saturday morning was the time everybody was injuring themselves. Harry, supporting Ginny, managed to push his way to the reception desk, where the blonde receptionist was looking exceedingly harassed.

“We really need to see a Healer,� he gasped at her, “it’s urgent.� The blonde witch looked deeply unimpressed.

“You and everyone else here,� she snapped irritably. Then her face changed slightly as a look of recognition crossed it. “Are you Harry Potter?� Her eyes flicked to his forehead. Harry groaned.

“Yes, I am. Will that get us seen to quicker?� he asked hopefully. The witch raised an eyebrow.

“No, Mr Potter.� At that moment Ron struggled through the crowds and finally emerged at Ginny’s other side. The receptionist glanced indifferently at him, then did a double take.

“Ron Weasley?!� she asked, excitedly. Ron looked a little puzzled.

“Er, yes,� he muttered, his ears turning slightly red as a couple of people turned to stare.

“Are these with you?� she asked, waving a hand at Harry and Ginny. Ron nodded, still looking confused. “In that case, if you’ll give me an autograph, you can go right up!� the witch exclaimed with delight. “You see, I was on my week off last time you were in here, and I was so jealous because Melanie said she’d seen you and Linda managed to get your autograph, so it would absolutely make my day if you could sign something for me!�

“Uh, sure,� Ron said dazedly. “Have you got a quill?�

The witch seized an abandoned quill from the desk top and looked around for anything she could get Ron to sign. As she glanced up, she noticed Harry and Ginny still standing looking a little dumbfounded.

“Oh, you can go and see Healer Sharp; she’s in maternity,� she gestured towards Ginny’s noticeable bump, “just down that corridor there.� Harry gave Ron a stunned look and hauled Ginny off in the direction indicated, just as the receptionist decided that the only suitable autograph material was a patient’s record that happened to be on the desk.

“There you go,� Ron mumbled, scribbling his signature and pushing the quill and parchment record back towards the witch; he made to follow Harry and Ginny but the witch began gabbling at him again.

“Oh, thank you ever so much, my brother will be so jealous, he’s such a Cannons fan, is our Kevin, but me, I just like watching Quidditch for the view, know what I mean?� She gave Ron a very obvious wink and snorted with laughter. “Stop whinging, I’ll get to you in a moment!� she snapped at a wizard whose nose seemed to have disappeared. “Honestly, we get all sorts in here!� she beamed back at Ron, who was still trying to edge away.

“Look,� he said finally, “I’ve really got to go and see how my sister is… I’ll see you around… sometime…� he trailed off and ran before she could reply, practically sprinting down the corridor until he reached the wing with ‘Maternity’ sparkling in silver letters in midair above the door. He found Harry and Ginny in a small cubicle with a thin, bony woman with a pointed nose, wearing Healer robes and scribbling on a clipboard.

“And you are?� she asked, turning towards Ron.

“I’m her brother,� Ron panted, rather out of breath from his escape from the receptionist. The Healer turned to Ginny, who nodded to indicate that Ron could stay.

“So, how does it feel to be more famous than me?� Harry asked Ron with a slight grin, though his eyebrows remained slightly furrowed with concern for his wife. Ron grimaced.

“I never thought I’d see the day,� he muttered darkly. “D’you want to swap back again?�

“Oh no, mate, you enjoy it,� Harry said, patting Ron on the back. They turned their attention back to Ginny, who was now answering a stream of quick-fire questions from the Healer, who continued to scribble notes on her parchment.

“Well,� the Healer said finally, after what seemed like an hour of questioning, “it doesn’t look like there’s anything seriously wrong, but in my opinion, you’re dehydrated. Here.� She waved her wand and conjured a plastic cup from midair and, with another flick, water spouted from the tip of her wand, filling the cup.

“That’s it?� Harry asked, incredulously. “Just give her a cup of water?� The Healer looked sharply at him.

“This isn’t any plain old water, Mr Potter, this is Rehydration Water,� she snapped, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’ll give you an extra supply before you go, just in case. For now, drink this and sit quietly, and I’ll be back in an hour.�

Ron glanced surreptitiously at his watch. It was already half past eleven; Hermione’s wedding was in two hours.

“You can go, Ron,� Ginny offered, also looking at her watch. Ron shook his head.

“I’m not leaving you until I’m sure you’re 100% ok,� he said firmly, ruffling her hair.

“With you two looking after me, how can I be anything other?� Ginny asked in mock philosophical tones.

*

By the time Healer Sharp had returned and satisfied herself that Ginny was perfectly alright again, it was well over an hour later. As the arms on his watch neared one, Ron was immensely relieved to finally be told that they could leave; they forced themselves through the crowds in the reception to the Floo point and returned to Harry and Ginny’s living room. It wasn’t until that moment when Ron realised the flaw in their plan.

“How are you planning on getting to the registry office, Ginny?� he asked her slowly. “Harry and I can Apparate, but you’re not allowed to past three months.� Ginny sighed as though Ron were irritatingly thick.

“We’re going by Floo,� she said, as though this was obvious.

“It’s a Muggle registry office, Ginny, it’s not on the Floo network.�

“Yes, it is,� Ginny said simply. “I owled Dad and persuaded him to get it put on for this afternoon.� She sighed, looking down at the old clothes she was wearing. “We haven’t got time to change, we’ll have to go as we are.�

“Are you sure you’re ok now?� Harry asked Ginny seriously, eyeing her closely. She sighed, looking a little exasperated.

“Yes, Harry,� she said gently, patting his shoulder. “Well, I shan’t be doing any running around or Quidditch for a while, but I’ll do. Besides, I’ve always wanted to crash a wedding, you are not going to deprive me of what may well be my one and only chance. Come on, or we’ll miss it.� She reached past Ron for a handful of Floo powder, which she cast into the grate before turning to look at him expectantly.

“What’s the name of the town?�

“Little Fletchley.�

“See you on the other side.� Ginny stepped purposefully into the green flames, calling, “Little Fletchley Registry Office!� as she was whipped out of sight. Harry followed suit and Ron, with a deep breath, did the same.

*

He slid out of a large stone fireplace on his back, staring up at the ceiling, which was covered with old oak beams. Coughing to get rid of the mouthful of soot he seemed to have accidentally swallowed, Ron clambered awkwardly to his feet, looking around for Harry and Ginny. As his eyes found them, he noticed that they were not looking at him; he followed their gaze and jumped in shock. The fireplace, as it turned out, was right in the actual ceremony hall itself, and, most unfortunately, it was positioned right behind the minister – at the very front of the hall. The people sitting on rows of little white chairs were silent, open-mouthed at the three people who had just materialised out of the fireplace. Ron’s eyes flicked past them to the two people standing before the minister and he stared at the woman in her simple white dress.

“Hermione,� he croaked, taking a step forwards. “Hermione, don’t do this-� His voice broke off as the woman looked up at him and he was stunned into silence. She looked absolutely beautiful.

But she wasn’t Hermione.

“Uh…� Ron heard Harry’s voice from behind him, struggling to find something to say. The people in the hall, particularly the nonplussed bride and groom, were still staring at them. Even Ginny seemed at a loss for what to say or do. Ron glanced up at the clock on the wall – it was five past one. This must be the wedding before.

“Er, sorry,� he muttered, ears scarlet, to the minister. “We’re, er, a bit early. We’re here for the next wedding.� The minister frowned slightly.

“There isn’t a ‘next wedding’,� she replied quietly, as the people in the hall strained to hear the conversation. “This is the last one today.� Ron opened and closed his mouth silently, struggling to comprehend.

“But… we’re supposed to be here for the wedding of Hermione Granger and Alex… someone,� he said finally. The minister’s frown deepened.

“They were booked in for this morning,� she told him firmly. “I’m sorry, I really can’t help you. Now, please, would you mind leaving so that I can get on with this wedding?�

Ron nodded and beckoned to Harry and Ginny; with a profuse apology – and good luck wishes from Ginny - to the bride and groom as he passed them, Ron led the way down the aisle between the rows of people, who were still staring in bewilderment, and out of the double doors at the back of the hall.

On the other side the three of them stared wordlessly at each other. Ron’s brain was trying to process what he had just been told. Hermione and Alex’s wedding was that morning. They were already married. He was too late.

“Ron,� Ginny said finally, resting a hand sympathetically on his arm, tears in her eyes, “Ron, I’m sorry.�

“Yeah,� Harry said solemnly, clapping Ron on the back. Both of them seemed at a loss to say anything else. But Ron was thinking.

If Hermione and Alex were married (and it seemed pretty obvious that they must be), then he surely wouldn’t be such a threat in Alex’s eyes, for in Alex’s eyes, he had won – he had married Hermione. Perhaps Alex wouldn’t refuse Ron one last conversation with Hermione; Ron suddenly felt a burning desire just to talk to Hermione one last time, to see her face, to tell her that he loved her. Perhaps Alex wouldn’t deny him that.

“I’m going to find her,� Ron said decisively and, before Harry or Ginny could reply, he was striding out of the building into the sunlight beyond.

“Ron!� Harry was running along after him, Ginny walking as quickly as she dared behind. “Ron, don’t be an idiot!�

“I can’t help it!� Ron shouted back, and he was surprised to hear himself laugh as he said it. “I’ve got to see her, Harry.�

“But-� Harry caught up with Ron and grabbed him arm tightly, “But it’s over, Ron, she’s married Alex.�

“I know,� said Ron, breathlessly. “But I just want to speak to her, one last time.� He pulled his arm out of Harry’s grip and set off at a sprint down the road, fully aware that Harry would not be able to follow him, since he would not leave Ginny behind. He heard their shouts as he rounded the corner but ignored them and ran on, pounding the streets, passing shoppers laden with shopping bags, past children screaming at their parents, past people of all ages, as he headed down the road that led out of town to the green. The shoppers became less as he ran out of the centre of town; more and more trees lined the streets and finally he came to the main road, on the other side of which was a small wooded pathway, with a sign saying, ‘Birchwood’ pointing up it. He ran across the road, narrowly avoiding a motorbike that he had not seen coming, and hurtled up the path, heading for the house that he knew lay at the end of it.

The path veered steeply uphill, but Ron was not deterred by this, for he knew that at the top of the hill he would be able to see the whole house and gardens. Sure enough, as he reached the hill’s peak, he looked down and saw a sizeable white marquee in the garden and heard the faint strains of music. Ignoring the pang in his heart that this sight gave him, Ron ran on, down the hill and through the trees until he was standing in front of the large house, just as he’d stood there so many weeks ago when he and Hermione were to rehearse there. He was inordinately out of breath and rued his recent lack of exercise as he massaged the stitch in his chest, looking around for where Hermione might be.

“You’re late.� A voice that Ron recognised immediately spoke from somewhere behind him. He wheeled round to face Alex, still panting, but his face set.

“I just want to speak to Hermione, Alex,� he gasped. “Just give me one last chance to speak to her. Come on.�

Alex was staring at Ron with an odd expression on his face. Sympathy? Ron couldn’t quite tell. He seemed as though he were trying to make up his mind about something.

“She’s quite a girl, isn’t she?� he said finally. “She’s had us running around like a pair of lunatics.�

“She’s worth it,� Ron shrugged and Alex, inexplicably, laughed.

“Yes, she is,� he said softly. “She’s so warm and giving, all of the time. I bet she was a wonderful friend at school, wasn’t she?�

Ron could not see where this conversation was going and was getting very annoyed at its continuance; he decided not to answer.

“There’s something about her, right?� Alex went on. “Whenever she’s around you know she’ll be the one to make you feel better about yourself. And she’s so determined, she’ll just plough on with something if she feels it’s the right thing to do. She always wants to do the right thing.�

“Look,� Ron interrupted him angrily, “I can see where this is going, alright?� The sight of people milling happily around in the reception marquee was almost too much for him to bear. “She always does the right thing, she’s married you, ergo marrying you was the right thing to do, yes?�

“You need to listen more, Ron, and talk less,� Alex said pointedly. “Hermione didn’t marry me.�

It was as if a weight had been smashed into Ron’s face; he took a dazed step backwards and struggled for words. Hermione hadn’t married Alex?

“Don’t try and pull that one on me,� Ron growled finally. Alex looked puzzled. “You think I’ll believe she didn’t marry you so that I’ll… I’ll…� Ron was at a loss to think why Alex would say this if it weren’t true.

“It’s true, Ron,� Alex said with a somewhat impatient sigh. “Or perhaps the truth would be, I didn’t marry her.� Ron stared at him, his mind spinning. “We had a call the other day saying that a couple had pulled out, so would we like an earlier wedding. Our guests were all staying here anyway so we said we’d marry at half past eleven instead of half one. But when I got to the registry office…� Alex looked rather wistful, although it was mingled with something that looked inexplicably like pride, “I was there early, but, as it turned out, so was she. I saw her sitting on the wall outside; she looked beautiful. But she was crying.�

From somewhere behind him, Ron thought he heard the sound of hurried footsteps, which he guessed meant that Harry and Ginny had finally managed to find the house. They said nothing to him, however, but hovered a few feet behind, cautiously watching the two men in front of them.

“I went and sat beside her,� Alex continued. “We talked for a while. And I realised that you were right.� Ron looked more surprised than ever. “If I forced her to marry me, she’d be lonely. I’d be… caging her, if you like. I could never make her happy.� Alex looked directly into Ron’s eyes and Ron felt a pang of pity for the man before him. “There’s only one person who can make her happy, and we both know who he is,� Alex finished quietly.

“So you definitely didn’t get married?� Ron said, still trying to make his brain understand.

“They called our names. Hermione assured me that she was fine and that she’d see me inside. She left to go into the hall. I left in the other direction.�

“You jilted her?� Ron asked incredulously. Alex nodded.

“I couldn’t do anything else,� he said simply.

For a few moments, Ron just stared at Alex in disbelief. Alex had freely and willingly given up Hermione. He was letting her go. There was a squeal from behind him and Ron jumped as Ginny streaked past him and leapt on Alex in a hug. The three men seemed equally thrown by this; Ron stared in amazement at his little sister, Harry opened and closed his mouth like a fish, and Alex, looking totally shocked, appeared quite unable to decide what he should do. Finally Ron prised Ginny off of Alex and she just stood there, beaming widely.

“You’re not so bad after all,� she said brightly, bobbing up and down on her feet.

“Er, thanks,� Alex muttered, scarlet. “Are you, er, alright?�

“Never better!� Ginny said happily, patting her bump contentedly.

“Listen, mate.� Ron thought he’d better say something before the opportunity disappeared. “Thank you.� Alex shook his head.

“Not necessary,� he assured Ron. “I guess I’ve put you and your family through hell these weeks. I’m sorry.� And he looked completely genuine as he said it. “I’m going back to St Mungo’s,� he added, looking away from Ron. “Just for a while, you know, get back on my feet and all that.� Ron nodded silently. “You should go and talk to Hermione,� Alex told him, smiling now. “We’d paid for the reception so we thought we’d let the guests enjoy themselves anyway, but Hermione went off for a walk by the lake.�

Ron nodded again and, with a brief pat on Alex’s shoulder, set off in the direction that Alex had indicated. As he left, Alex called after him.

“Ron?� Ron turned.

“Yes?�

“Make her happy.�

Ron gave him a thumbs up and broke into a run down the grassy slope towards the shimmering water at the bottom of the hill, upon the opposite bank of which he could make out a figure wearing a long white dress.

The scene reminded him irresistibly of the night when Hermione had left the Burrow ten years earlier. As Ron walked closer, he noticed that she was dancing, slowly and sadly, the simple train of her white gown flaring behind her as she twirled and her brown curls flying round her head. A weeping willow bent its fronds towards the water’s glimmering surface and Ron watched, entranced, as Hermione moved beneath the tree, parting the branches, causing the water to ripple gently.

“My good lady!� he hollered across the lake. Hermione looked up, surprised, a smile creeping up her previously wistful face as she recognised the voice. “May I have this dance?�

Ron began to stride purposefully around the banks of the lake towards where Hermione was now standing still, watching him, still smiling. She began to walk towards him, then broke into a run, the hem of her dress trailing in the mud at the lake’s edge. Ron stopped as she neared him, grinning widely as he took in her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, and she suddenly looked more beautiful in that single moment than Ron had ever seen her look before. She threw herself upon him in a bear hug which nearly knocked him flat. For that moment, there was no need for either of them to say anything; they remained there, Hermione practically strangling Ron as she clung on for dear life and Ron quietly chuckling inexplicably.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then?� he said as Hermione finally let him go and she stood back to look him up and down.

“Of course it’s a yes,� Hermione said happily, taking him by the hand and leading him in a waltz-type movement. “You’ll always be my favourite dance partner.�

“Obviously,� Ron scoffed sarcastically, and Hermione swatted his arm. They continued waltzing around the edge of the lake as they spoke, a comical sight to anyone watching, but, in their eyes, it was the natural thing to do.

“You came back then,� Hermione said, smiling widely. Ron grinned even wider and shrugged.

“So did you.�

“I’m coming back for good,� Hermione told him earnestly. “I’m coming back into the wizarding world properly. I want to start a dancing school for wizards and witches.�

“Funny that,� Ron mused, “because I want to start a Quidditch training school for wizards and witches.�

“Fancy that,� Hermione said quietly, her smile becoming impish and a little mischievous.

“So, when you say you’re coming back,� Ron said slowly, “might I be so bold as to ask you… if you might consider… coming back to me?� Hermione looked him right in the eye, just as firmly as she had that night at the masked dance so many weeks earlier.

“Do you even need to ask that question?� she answered, softly. “If you’ll have me, of course?� she added, looking a little nervous. Ron leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

“How could I say no?�

“No Heavenly-Paige?�

“She’s getting married.�

“Really?� Hermione looked taken aback but amused. “I bet you were gutted.�

“Heartbroken,� Ron said, with a melodramatic sigh. “But I battle onwards through the pain.�

“No more beer?� Hermione asked, her voice serious once more.

“No more beer,� Ron told her firmly.

“No more cheap cracks about dancing costumes?� Hermione’s wicked smile had returned.

“Come on, you’ve got to give me something!�

“Ok, ok, I’ll agree they are a bit… effeminate,� Hermione conceded. “But very flattering on the male figure.�

“Is that Hermione Granger referring to the male anatomy in such a crude and vulgar fashion?� he asked in mock scandalous tones. Hermione laughed.

“They make your legs look longer,� she said playfully. Ron laughed this time. They fell silent for a few moments more as Ron, without thinking about it, rested his chin on the top of Hermione’s head.

“I’m glad you’re back,� he said finally.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,� Hermione assured him. “Or with anyone else,� she added. Ron was thoughtful for a moment.

“I love you, Hermione,� he said quietly. “I mean it, I really, actually, properly love you. I’m not just saying it because it’s the kind of thing you’re supposed to say in a moment like this. It just happens to be true.�

“And it just so happens to be true that I really, actually, properly love you, Ronald Weasley,� Hermione said with a laugh.

“That’s handy.�

“Convenient, really.�

“Exactly.�

“Tell me, Ron,� Hermione said after a few moments of silence, “once we’re together again, will you still dance with me?�

“Every day,� Ron promised with a grin. Then he suddenly remembered. “Hey, did Alex tell you about the competition?� Hermione frowned.

“What competition?�

“The one we’ve been competing in for the last however many weeks,� Ron reminded her.

“I know it’s the final tonight, but really I think I’d rather not watch it,� Hermione muttered, her smile fading.

“No, no, it’s not that – we’re back in it!� Hermione stared at him, open-mouthed, their waltz coming to a halt.

“What? How?�

“They had the audience vote a Wild Card couple back in, and it was us,� Ron explained quickly. “I sent you an owl but Alex got it instead; we do two of our previous dances and a freestyle dance. We get to do lifts and everything!� Hermione was still gaping at him, then seized Ron’s wrist to look at his watch.

“It’s half past two already! The show starts in a few hours!�

“We could not do it, if we’re not going to be ready,� Ron suggested, but Hermione was shaking her head.

“We’re dancing tonight, Ron, even if we have to make it up on the spot!� she said determinedly. “One last time, and if we win or lose, who cares? We’ll go down together – you with me?� She held out a hand, a wide grin spreading across her stunned face. Ron couldn’t help but beam in response; he seized her hand and shook it firmly.

“Let’s go for it then!� He took her hand and led her back around the lake and up the hill at a run; they sprinted across the gardens - Hermione holding up her dress with her free hand - until they reached where the marquee was, when Hermione pulled Ron to a halt.

“Let me just go and speak to Alex,� she said, panting. “Please?� Ron looked across to where Alex was sitting alone on the front step of the house and nodded. Hermione kissed him lovingly and, with a smile, departed. Still slightly out of breath, Ron glanced into the marquee, where he saw Ginny and Harry sitting eating some of the wedding cake. He strolled over to join them.

“Everything sorted?� Harry asked, as Ginny licked icing from her fingertips. Ron nodded, unable to stop a grin returning to his face.

“She’s gone to talk to Alex, then we’re off to the studio,� he explained. Harry and Ginny looked round; the three of them saw Hermione sitting on the sunny steps next to Alex, deep in conversation.

“Isn’t it nice when everything works out?� Ginny mused happily, reaching for another slice of cake.

“How many pieces of cake have you had?� Ron asked, curiously.

“Three,� Ginny said, biting a cherry from the top.

“Five,� Harry corrected her, patting her bump.

“Really?� Ginny sounded surprised, and a little impressed with herself. “What? It’s good cake!� she added defensively, as Harry and Ron looked at her with raised eyebrows.

“And you’re sure you’re feeling better after this morning?� Ron asked, eyeing her closely. Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Harry’s been asking that all afternoon,� she grumbled.

“Understandably,� Harry protested. “You were screaming incoherently and barely able to walk or talk this morning.�

“Dehydration, like the Healer said,� Ginny shrugged. “It’s been a hectic week, that’s all. That Rehydration Water works wonders though. Look,� she added, when Harry continued to frown, “I’m asking for next week off, just so as I can lie down all week and have a bit of rest. I’ll bring some stuff home to write up. Happy?�

Neither Harry nor Ron looked completely convinced, but there was no time to reply, for at that moment Hermione appeared beside them.

“Ready?� Ron asked. She simply nodded.

“Alex ok?� Harry said, glancing towards where Alex still sat on the steps.

“He will be,� Hermione said, nodding again.

“Let’s get out of here then,� Ron said, taking her hand comfortingly. “You guys Flooing back to your house?� he asked Harry and Ginny.

“Yes, but we’ll be front row tonight,� Ginny assured him as she got to her feet; Ron thought he saw her slip another piece of cake up her sleeve. With a nod and a final look back at Alex, Ron and Hermione Apparated away.