“I’m bloody serious, Ronald! I swear to you, I will leave and never come back!”
Hermione Jane Granger shrieked across the room as her fiancé laughed at her silly threat. They were in the middle of a terrible row, though neither of them could remember what it was about. But anyone could tell it was terrible, because Hermione rarely used the expression bloody. Or made threats to leave and never come back.
“You know very well you would never do that, Hermione,” Ron Weasley responded coolly, eyeing her with annoyance, not quite rage. It was an odd situation, because the fiery red-head was usually the one yelling threats and losing control. His coolness melted away with the bushy haired woman’s next comment, however.
“When Harry and I fought, and I threatened to leave, he told me he would die if he left,” she said, looking down and losing her fervor momentarily, “He didn’t scoff it off.” She looked up at Ron, and was suddenly terrified. She saw the explosion growing behind his eyes. It was moments, seconds, away. And then suddenly….
“BLOODY HELL!” he roared, as he, literally, jumped over the table he was standing behind and ran forward to Hermione, “Would you give it up already?!?! HARRY IS DEAD! Could you quit bloody comparing me to him?”
Their eyes locked, he was but a few feet away now. Calmly, Ron delivered his next incredibly hurtful comment, right to the sad girl’s face. “And anyway, you not leaving him didn’t do much to stop him from dying, now did it?”
He regretted it as soon as he finished speaking. His earlier rant could be forgiven, as could her threat. But, he knew at once, reminding Hermione that she didn’t, couldn’t really, do anything to help Harry, was unforgivable.
At least, it would’ve been for most people. But, after years of verbal wars with this boy, Hermione knew what to expect. Calmly, she turned away from him, walked to the couch, and sat down.
“What are we doing, Ron?” she asked, her voice totally and completely depressed. Ron was hurt by its very sound. There was no hope in that voice. Just total confusion and insecurity.
Ron, can I talk to you?” It was a Saturday morning, late in the seventh year of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. The three of them were about to go visit the village of Hogsmeade, but Harry pulled Ron aside before they left the dormitory.
“What’s up, mate?” Ron asked, sitting next to Harry on his bed.
Harry sighed, and slowly began. “Ron,” he said slowly, and then continued, “You know how much I care about Hermione, right?” He looked up at this point, only to see a totally confused Ron.
“Harry,” he almost laughed as he spoke, “Harry, I’m the one who told you how you felt about Hermione. Without me, there would be no you and Hermione. Of course I know how much you care about her. What’s the deal here?”
“I want you to promise me, Ron, that if anything happens to me, ever, you’ll take care of Hermione. Look after her, make sure she’s happy. Will you do that for me, mate?” Harry looked Ron in the eye, waiting eagerly for his friend’s response.
“Of course I will, Harry,” Ron said, putting his hand on his best friend’s shoulder, “But nothing is going to happen to you.”
He slowly walked over and sat down in the chair across from Hermione, still feeling too guilty to sit next to her. “What are we doing?” He repeated, considering his answer carefully.
“Well,” he said, “Harry made me promise to take care of you; I’ve told you that before. And, well, you told me you loved me, and that you would marry me. And I just figured that this would be the best way to take care of you, don’t you think?”
Hermione sighed. “I know, Ron, I know. But I’m just not sure anymore.” She paused here, fingering the ring on her finger. It had a tasteful, but large, emerald green stone on it. She knew that Ron had chosen green as a tribute to Harry, probably the most thoughtful thing he’d ever done. She slipped it off, and glanced at the inscription.
‘To Hermione Granger, a truly amazing friend…With all my love, Ron’
“Ron,” she asked suddenly, surprising even herself with her sudden perkiness, “Ron, do you love me?”
He stared back at her, caught totally off guard. “Of course I love you,” he stammered out, unsure of what she wanted to hear, “Why else would I be marrying you?” He paused here for a moment, and then asked, “Do you love me?” Before Hermione could answer in the same manner he had, he added, “As more than a friend?”
“No,” she said, after only a moment of thought, and she looked down, not daring to meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, Ron.”
“Hermione, sweetheart,” he said smoothly, moving from the chair to a seat on the couch next to her. “I love you more than anyone else in the whole world,” she sighed, and he quickly continued, “But the person I love right now is my best friend.”
For a moment, Hermione continued to seem depressed. And then, she slowly turned her bushy brown haired head, and met Ron’s eyes with her own. “That’s the best news I’ve heard in three years, Ron,” she said, smiling him and hugging him.
He sighed as she pulled away. “So,” he began, scratching his head absent mindedly, “If we only love each other as friends, how did we get here?”
“Don’t you remember?” she asked, grabbing his hand, “It was right after Harry died, after the funeral.”
A/N; Keep reading, please, I promise, the twist at the end will SHOCK you.
Also, this is my first fic with some romance in it, so please be kind in your reviews