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His hand tightens around the bottle of Butterbeer he’s suddenly lost the taste for. He knew she’d be here; why wouldn’t she? But he still hoped she wouldn’t show.
To make matters worse, she walks in with another man. And not just any man, but the one she knows will cut him the deepest: Viktor Krum. The Quidditch star’s hand is splayed across the small of her back and her eyes shine as she glances up at him, laughing at a joke that Ron is sure isn’t funny at all.
It’s sick and twisted irony at its finest. Two years ago, they were here in this same spot for the same occasion, only now there is no unknown looming in the midst of a full-fledged war. Now, there is no Hermione in his life either. She’d made certain of that.
It didn’t take her long to pack her things and leave for Australia shortly after the war ended. She’d given no explanation, no goodbye. She took everything he thought they’d fought for and left him alone to pick up the pieces.
Maybe it wasn’t love after all.
Memories of Bill and Fleur’s wedding flit through his mind as he watches Vicky lead Hermione to an empty table. His heart aches as he remembers dancing with her; how just for a moment, things felt normal. Just for a moment, he was a teenage boy, drumming up the courage to seek something more with the girl who meant everything to him. Only for it all to be ripped away in the blink of an eye.
Now, two years later, everyone who survived the war is gathered again for Bill and Fleur’s vow renewal, where there are no threats of danger looming on the horizon. Only the promise of a well-deserved party.
But try as he might, Ron cannot find it within himself to be happy. She should be here with him. It should be his hand on the small of her back, whispering a joke about how Percy’s too serious or Mum trying—and failing—to cut Bill’s hair again . And her laugh would be real because he knows what she finds funny.
Instead, he stands on the sidelines, shielded by the circle of his brothers and Harry, who are engaged in some other conversation. His eyes never leave her, though she doesn’t notice him at all.
Maybe, if things were different, he could ask what went wrong. Where the fine line they always walked between friendship and something more snapped. Why she never gave him a chance. Would it have been so hard to hear him out? To give a warning sign that she was leaving?
Though he’s learned to read her well over the years, he never could read her mind. And he couldn’t turn things around. If she’d just given him a warning, he could have fixed things. He could have followed her.
But war doesn’t care who it fucks up along the way, and Ron and Hermione are perfect examples of that. A lost love that never stood a chance.
Sometimes, Ron wishes it was him and not Fred. Even death would be better than the life of exile he leads as he sees her now.
💔
From the moment she arrives, she can feel his eyes on her, burning into her skin like Fiendfyre. It’d been a coincidence, arriving seconds before Viktor. But she appreciated his warm smile and kind gestures once he realized she was attending alone. It was the support she needed to get her through those first awkward moments.
Hermione laughs. Not at the lighthearted joke Viktor makes, but at the reaction she elicits from him . Like he’s ready to get his knuckles bloody and stake his claim. Her heart flutters as she sees a glimpse of the Ron she once knew. The Ron she fell in love with before the war sucked the life out of him.
She tried to wait for him. Gave him so many chances to come to her, to open up, to talk. Even to simply cry as she held him and told him it would be okay. Any of that would have been better than the vacant stares she received instead. The shell of a man who’d had so much personality; all washed away from the locket, seeing her tortured, and witnessing death.
The decision to leave him behind had been the hardest yet, even harder than sending her parents away. Deep down, she knew he couldn’t come with her. She’d lost track of how many tears she cried—and still does. One year gone, and she still misses him more than anything. Still yearns for a chance to be something more. He was her crown; she’s empty without him.
💔
Ron and Hermione spend the better part of the evening avoiding each other. No one urges them to seek the other out. Everyone is careful not to speak the other’s name in their presence. It’s only when Ron finds the atmosphere of the tent too suffocating that he steps out into the grounds of the Burrow for a break, and Hermione follows.
“Shouldn’t you be getting back to Vicky?” he says once he settles by the old oak tree near the pond.
She draws a sharp breath in, not realizing he could sense her presence this whole time. “No. It was nice to catch up with him, but he’s not the reason I came tonight.”
“I would hope not.” Hollow laughter catches in Ron’s throat. “Considering this is a celebration for Bill and Fleur.”
“I didn’t come for them either.”
Ron turns and peers at her in the moonlight reflecting off the water. “Then why are you here?”
“For you,” she says simply.
The words take Ron aback, and his forehead creases as he watches her closely.
“Why?” he dares. “You left. Why would you come back?”
She steels herself with a deep breath. “I never left for good. And I never wanted to leave you . But you were—I didn’t know how to help you anymore, Ron. You were broken and everything I tried wasn’t helping. I needed to find my parents. I couldn’t delay my search any longer. And I thought maybe some space might help.”
“Then why didn’t you say any of that?” he snaps.
“I tried! I’d ask you to take a walk with me, joined you in your room after dinner. Every time I tried to bring it up you’d say you were tired or excuse yourself or do something else to avoid any hint of emotion that didn’t wrap you in grief!”
He opens his mouth, then closes it. No words come out as he stares in utter disbelief.
“I never intended to be away for over a year, but the search took longer than I thought it would. I barely found them before I had to return for Hogwarts. Maybe I should have been clearer, but I thought you knew. I wasn’t giving up on us, I swear.” Tears fill her eyes.
His demeanor softens as he pushes himself off of the tree and takes a step toward her. “You tried to tell me?”
She nods. “I gave so many signs.”
“I never saw them.”
They both remain quiet for a while, neither knowing what to say. After a while, Hermione finally dares to speak again. “You seem like you’re doing better.”
“I guess.” Ron shrugs and kicks his toe into the ground. “There’s still something missing, though.”
Hermione reaches out to touch his arm. It’s a risky move, but she does it anyway. “I’m sure there always will be,” she whispers. “You’re missing a brother.”
“What?” Ron looks up. “No, not Fred. I’ve learned to work through that.”
“Lavender, then?”
“No.”
“Then—”
Ron steps forward, cutting her off. “You, Hermione. You’re missing.” His hands find the sides of her face, cupping her tenderly as he guides her gaze to him.
Tears well in her eyes and a few spill down her cheeks from the overflow. “I missed you. I was so worried we wouldn’t be able to move past this.”
“I know. I’m sorry I fucked up.”
“You didn’t. You were hurting. You lost so much.”
They’re so close their foreheads touch. She can feel his hot breath on her skin as her arms wrap around his torso, willing him to close the distance. And he does, but not until he responds first.
“Yeah, but I didn’t lose my ‘everything.’”
Their lips meet. It’s soft and sweet and full of emotion, but there is no urgency to it. Not like there was during the battle. This kiss is a reconciliation, a step out of exile and into each other’s arms, where they’ve always meant to be.
When they break apart, Ron makes a promise. “I know I couldn’t change things around back then, but I’ll be better now. For us. I can’t lose you too, Hermione.”
“You won’t. I promise you won’t.”
I think I’ve seen this film before
And I didn’t like the ending
So I’m leavin’ out the side door