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Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, not me
Ron stood under the dim glow of the tent’s lantern, his shadow cast long and unsteady. His heart pounded as he approached Hermione, who sat stiffly on a makeshift chair, her arms crossed and her gaze fixed somewhere far away.
She hadn’t even glanced at him since his return. “Hermione…” he began, his voice barely above a whisper.
She didn’t respond, her posture rigid, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he continued, stepping closer hesitantly. “But I need you to hear me. Please.” Still no response.
The silence was suffocating. Ron took a deep breath, his voice cracking as he said, “I’m sorry. I’m so bloody sorry. For leaving you. For leaving Harry. For being a coward.” Hermione finally turned her head, her eyes narrowing. “You think a simple apology is enough? You left us in the middle of everything, Ron. You left me.” Her voice quivered, the raw pain in her words cutting through him like a blade.
“I know!” he exclaimed, his hands gripping his hair in frustration. “I know I messed up. I was scared, jealous, and I—” He paused, swallowing hard. “I’ve never been more ashamed of myself.” Her eyes filled with unshed tears, but she didn’t let them fall.
“Do you have any idea what it was like? Watching Harry struggle, carrying the weight of everything, while I—” She stopped herself, biting her lip, and looked away. Ron stepped closer, his hands trembling. “I do now,” he whispered. “And I hate myself for it.” He reached out cautiously, his fingers brushing against hers. She flinched slightly but didn’t pull away.
Encouraged, Ron took her hand in his, lowering his head. He kissed her knuckles softly, lingering as if trying to pour all his regret and love into that one touch. “I know I hurt you,” he said, his voice barely audible. “And I’ll never forgive myself. But Hermione, I came back. I came back because I couldn’t bear to stay away.” She didn’t look at him, but her hand trembled in his.
He kissed each of her fingers slowly, his lips brushing over her skin like a silent plea. “You’re everything to me,” he murmured between kisses. “I was an idiot to walk away.” When she still didn’t speak, he let go of her hand and cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tear that escaped down her cheek. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t move.
Ron pressed his forehead against hers, his voice breaking. “I don’t deserve you, Hermione.
He tilted her head slightly and kissed her forehead softly, his lips lingering as he whispered, “I’m sorry. I love you. I’ve always loved you.” Hermione’s tears flowed freely now, and Ron’s heart ached at the sight. He kissed her temple, then her cheek, trailing his lips down to her jawline with a tenderness she’d never felt from him before. “You hurt me, Ron,” she finally whispered, her voice cracking. “So much.” “I know,” he said, his voice filled with anguish. “And I’ll never hurt you again. I promise.”
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and longing. Slowly, she leaned into his touch, her face buried against his chest. Ron held her tightly, his hands running soothingly over her back as she sobbed. “I’ll never leave you again,” he murmured into her hair, kissing the top of her head. “Never.”