Those next few days in the Weasley home were some of my most treasured moments. Every second I spent with Ron was blissful, yet heart-wrenching. I could tell that although he remembered me, he was an empty frame. He didn’t know who I was or how he knew me “ simply that I existed. I was a name, and nothing else.
Still, this was the first time I had had true family in a very long time. This was a family where I would not be judged because I was different. Those years had home had been spent with my parents talking about their work in dentistry, and me about Wizarding school. To be fair, they couldn’t quite understand the immense heaviness on my heart about such topics as Voldemort and the safety of the Wizarding world, of which they were not a part. All the same, those summers as home had been painfully awkward, and I would not relive them if given the chance.
I suppose it all went to show me how much a part of the Wizarding community I had become. I was no longer the bushy-haired girl with buck teeth and a special need to constantly be right. I was now a witch, highly respected among a community of my own kind. I had been accepted into the most prestigious of medical schools, and I had begun my career as a Healer.
Now I knew what had been missing in my love. I had been an ambitious woman, with high thoughts of power, prestige, and fame. Never had I given a thought to the one who loved me, that one that if I looked deep enough, I would find I had loved all along. I had never had enough reason to give him a second glance “ not until I lost him.
Now I had him back, and I was determined that no matter what might come at us in the raging storm that was War, I would not let him go. The second he could hear me, I would tell him I loved him. I would tell him how much I truly cared.
The time had now come for me to carry out that promise to myself. I owed it to him. He had stood by so many years, waiting for me to come to my senses, praying that one day I would realize that I needed him. I was now living in the same house as he was, by invitation of his family. Now was the time for me to fulfill my promise to the man I loved so well.
But what if he doesn’t remember? I asked myself over and over. What if he’s given up long ago? I found excuse after excuse, and soon I had given up all hope of ever telling him. Love was enough.
“Hermione?” A timid knock came on my door. I sat up straight and smoothed out my shirt.
“Come in,” I said hurriedly, standing up. “Ginny!”
Sure enough, Ginny Weasley came into the room. I expected to see Harry following behind her, but he wasn’t there. “Gin,” I said. “What’s up?”
“I need to talk to you,” she said. “Ever since you came here, you’ve withdrawn.”
It was true; since I had come here, my life had been less centered on the workplace. I could usually be found there “ putting in extra hours, visiting friends, wandering around looking for something to do (and occasionally working) “ but ever since Ron had been taken out of the hospital, I found little reason to be there. I still worked the day shift four times a week, and the night shift twice, but I did not stay there past that.
“I guess so,” I said pensively. “What do you need to talk about?”
Ginny sat on the edge of what had once been her bed. “Hermione,” she said, looking me in the eye. “When are you going to tell him?”
“Tell him what?” I asked, avoiding her eyes.
“Tell him you love him,” said Ginny, not fooled by my elusiveness. “You do … I can see it.”
“What’s the point in that?” I asked. “He doesn’t know who I am anyway.”
“You’re the only one he remembers!” Ginny said, her eyes filling with tears. “Hermione, you don’t know what most of us would do to be in your position! Mum goes around the house all day with her son in it. He doesn’t even know who she is, Hermione. She wants to comfort him, but to him she’s a stranger. If you ever want to tell him, tell him now.”
I sat there for a moment, taking it all in. What Ginny said made sense, but I knew better than that. I looked at her solemnly.
“I’m not sure I’m ready,” I said, pushing a lock of hair behind my ear. “I mean, I’ve thought about it.” I paused. “But telling him I love him is so much harder than I thought it would be.”
Ginny stared. I knew she didn’t mean to be rude, but she had never known such confusion. I continued heavily.
“I’ve never told someone that I love him,” I said. “It’s a lot for me, and I don’t know if I’m ready to give it all up for him.” Tears were forming in my eyes. Even if I was going to ignore all feelings for him, no man had ever made me this emotional. Not ever.
Comprehension dawned on Ginny’s face. “Hermione,” she said. “Just do it. You’ll regret it if you don’t.” She glanced quickly over her shoulder. “Look at Harry. He would never have woken up if I hadn’t done something.”
I swallowed, in my heart knowing that she was right. Ginny was always right. She was daring, outgoing, and totally calm around men. People always said that after marrying one lost all shyness or negativity toward the opposite sex, but Ginny had never had problems around men to begin with. I, however, was not so lucky.
“Ginny, you don’t understand,” I said, looking down at my hands. “I know I’ll regret it, but I can’t just throw everything I’ve worked for away.”
Ginny scooted a little bit closer. “Hermione,” she said, “you already know that he won’t be in your way. He loves you; he really does. He’s told me so countless times, and I’m sure that if he knew who I was, he would tell me again. He loves you, Hermione. Don’t take that for granted. You’ll end up hurt.”
I sat there for a moment, wondering. I knew that she was right, but I couldn’t open up my heart again. “I’m broken, Gin,” I said. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Go,” she said, standing up. “He needs you now more than ever.”
She left me alone in the room. I knew he was waiting for me, staring at his ceiling, waiting for me to go and talk to him. I was the only one he would talk to nowadays, and I felt the same way about him. He was everything.
Resolutely I stood. I would tell him, whether he understood me. My walls had fallen down long ago, the ones I had built so carefully. He was my everything; my all. I needed him. If only I could get this off my chest, I would feel better. This would be my last resort. Ginny had said that he needed me “ I needed him! Now more than ever.
I was ready. I knew it in my heart. Thinking back, from the second I saw him on the train “ that little boy with dirt on his nose “ that we were meant to be, and somehow, someway, he would be mine. I had loved him with a fire all those years, until I learned to suppress my unreturned affections. I knew now that I loved him. I knew now that my career, my health, my life didn’t matter “ not unless I had him.
I opened the door to find him on his bed. He was sitting there, staring at the gigantic toad in the aquarium on his bedside table. I smiled as I saw it had developed a few new eyes since I had last seen. My attention was not focused on that, though, as soon as I saw Ron.
His eyes were looking clearer. “Hermione,” he said, pushing his fingers through his hair so that it stood on end. “Do you remember?”
“I do remember, Ron,” I said, coming to sit beside him. “You loved me once.”
“I did,” he said tonelessly. Thinking he was only agreeing with me, I continued.
“You kissed me once,” I said. “Do you remember the time we were down by the lake?” I asked tentatively.
“Which time?” he asked. “I remember the lake.”
Time was short. I had to get him to remember now, or he would never know. “It was in the first days of spring,” I said, picturing it clearly in my mind. “You were holding my hand, and we could smell the white blossoms on the Whomping Willow.”
“The Whomping Willow,” Ron repeated. I was very close to breaking through. I scooted closer and squeezed his hand, trying to help him remember the feeling.
“You told me you loved me,” I said, trying to avoid getting lost in his eyes. “You said you’d never leave me.”
I waited. Nothing happened. Maybe he wasn’t going to remember … ever. But something in his eyes kept me going. “You said that you would die if I left you,” I said. “And I left you. I’m sorry.”
Something behind his eyes clicked. “I forgive you,” he said. “I forgave you long ago. There was more to your life than me.”
He was remembering! There had to be more to life than this!
“Then after all these years, we’ve come together again,” I whispered, my breathing growing shallow. “And you showed me that I love you.”
His eyes widened in astonishment, and then he blinked.
“Where am I?” he said, rubbing them. “The last thing I remember we were going into battle …”
“You lost that battle,” I informed him, tears welling up in my eyes. “You were hurt and you came to St. Mungo’s with me. It’s autumn now. You went into battle in the spring. You’ve been awake for three weeks now, but you haven’t known anyone until just now.”
“Hermione,” he said, looking at me. “You didn’t let me die.” He pulled me into a familiar bear hug and we swayed back and forth. “Thank you.”
I couldn’t control myself. I began to sob, tears pouring from my eyes. He was back. Ron was back. My Ron was back, and he remembered! “Go,” I sobbed. “Your mother will be wanting to have you back.”
I stood and watched him go all the way downstairs by himself. He didn’t need any help, and he hadn’t gotten lost on the way. I heard Mrs. Weasley’s squeals of delight downstairs as she called her husband. I was left leaning in the doorway of Ron’s bedroom, hiccoughing silently.
I had been left slightly disappointed. All that time, energy, and emotion for nothing. He remembered me, but he did not remember my confession of my undying love for him. For the first time in my life, I was no longer in control of our relationship, which sharpened my appreciation for the hurt I had put him through. I knew there was no reason to cry anymore, but something told me I had great reason to. I knew the great hurt of love, and I needed him.
I followed him blindly down the stairs, where I was greeted by a flock of happy Weasleys. I smiled reluctantly.
“What’s the matter, dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked, stopping her attack on her son. “You look very tired.
Ron pulled away from his father for a moment. “Are you all right, Hermione?” he asked. I opened my mouth to speak, but Mrs. Weasley cut me off.
“She stayed here and took care of you, Ron,” she said, taking his arm. Ron looked down at me with real concern in his eyes for the first time in months, and it nearly broke me.
Ron cleared his throat gruffly. “Thank you,” is what he said, but the glimmer in his eyes told me he wanted to see me later. He longed to talk with me. Lucky for me, I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk to him. It was too much too soon, and I wasn’t sure what to say to a Ron that remembered who I was. “I guess your healer training came to good use after all.” He smiled weakly. As his parents flocked back around him, a look came into his eyes that said very clearly, “I love you.”
A happy bubble rose inside me. I remembered the old days when he was mine. I needed him greatly, I couldn’t live without him. I needed him now more than ever.
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*A/N- Thanks, you guys! You've all been so patient while I'm being a butt and not updating. You get the idea. Anyway, the one-shot I wrote the better to concentrate is up. It's called "Regret." Check it out. I'm rather proud of it.