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Hi guys, you can call me Warrior Princess.
Hi, I’m a writer fueled by imagination and passion. My journey began as someone who primarily watched movies, and while I haven’t delved deeply into the books yet, I plan to immerse myself in them soon. Among all the characters I’ve encountered, Romione has left a lasting impression on me. There’s something undeniably unique and magical about their dynamic in the movies that captivated me.
Inspired by their story, I’ve decided to keep the magic alive by writing Romione fanfiction.
Every Sunday, I’ll publish new chapters or stories exploring their relationship in ways that resonate with fans. Stay tuned as I bring my own creative twists to their timeless bond!
And this is my first fanfiction ever.... Please bear with me.
Disclaimer: All characters belong solely to J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of any of them. My writing is purely a fan-created work, inspired by her original creations, and is not intended for any commercial purpose.
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Ron stood in the middle of the field, the green sea of grass swaying gently in the wind.
The world felt too still, too quiet for the storm raging inside him. His fists clenched, and his jaw tightened as his eyes burned holes into the ground.
He didn’t dare look up—not at Harry, not at Hermione.
He wanted to scream, to shout at the unfairness of it all. Hermione’s hand rested on Harry’s shoulder, her gaze soft and understanding as she leaned toward their mutual friend.
The sight twisted a knife in Ron’s chest. It wasn’t jealousy, not in the way people might assume. It wasn’t about her touching Harry—it was about her not touching him.
He turned his back to them, the wind biting his face as he trudged forward, trying to put some distance between them.
The past few days had been unbearable, the tension between him and Hermione crackling like static.
Every word they exchanged felt weighted, laced with something unspoken and heavy. He knew he wasn’t being fair to her—or to Harry, for that matter.
But he couldn’t stop himself. Every time Hermione so much as glanced at Harry, Ron’s insecurities rose like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him.
It wasn’t her fault. It wasn’t Harry’s either. It was him. Always him. “Ron…” Hermione’s voice called out, tentative and quiet, cutting through the silence of the field.
He stopped but didn’t turn around. He couldn’t face her, not like this. His chest heaved, his breath uneven as he tried to find the words to push her away before she could see just how broken he was. “Go back to Harry, Hermione,” he muttered, his voice harsher than he intended. “He needs you more.”
There was a pause, and for a moment, Ron thought she’d left. But then he felt her presence behind him, hesitant but steady. “What’s going on with you?” she asked softly. “Why are you doing this?” Ron let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Doing what? Being me? That’s the problem, isn’t it?”
Hermione’s hand touched his arm lightly, and he flinched as though it burned. “Don’t,” he said, his voice cracking. “Just… don’t.” “I don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Why won’t you just talk to me?”
He finally turned to her, his blue eyes blazing with frustration and something else—something raw and unguarded.
“What do you want me to say, Hermione? That I feel like a bloody shadow compared to Harry? That I’ve spent every moment of my life trying to prove I’m worth something, only to fall short every time?” Her eyes widened, and she stepped back slightly, her hand retreating as though she realized how deeply she’d touched a nerve.
Ron took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “It’s not your fault,” he admitted quietly. “It’s mine. I just… I need some time. Please.” Hermione opened her mouth to respond but hesitated.
She looked at him with those big, understanding eyes, and for a fleeting moment, he thought she might reach out to him again. But instead, she nodded, stepping back toward Harry.
As Ron watched her walk away, a deep sense of regret settled in his chest. He wanted to call her back, to tell her that it wasn’t Harry he resented—it was the thought of losing her. But the words stuck in his throat, and all he could do was watch as she slipped further away from him.
Alone in the vast expanse of the field, Ron finally allowed the first tear to fall. It was the only way he could release the feelings threatening to consume him.
Because as much as he wanted to fight for her, he wasn’t sure he could ever be enough. And that thought was more painful than anything else.
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Ok guys, please let me know and share to fellow romione stans......
Lots of ❤️