Chapter 3
I can never get any sleep when she's here. It's not the fact that I am lying here on this lumpy couch, but rather that she is in there lying in my bed. I can't believe I told her I love her. How bloody stupid am I? Oh gods, she kissed me, and oh, what a kiss that was. I have dreamt of kissing Hermione since I was 16 years old. The dreams did not even come close in comparison to the real thing.
I smile to myself as I think about her soft lips on mine, her taste, the feel of her in my arms. I am even more in love with her than I was six hours ago. What's making it worse is the fact that I am lying here on my couch staring into the fire thinking of the beautiful woman sleeping not thirty feet away from me. I wonder if she is having the same thoughts as I am.
I let my mind wander to her and my memories of her, just her. I remember back to when I met her on the Hogwarts Express. She was such a bossy, buck-toothed, big-haired know-it-all. But in all honesty, I thought she was pretty even then. When she covered for us when we saved her from the troll, that's when I knew that we would always be friends. Little did I know, it would last even now, 18 years later.
We've been through a lot together. Me, her and him. Why did I let her marry him? I loved her, why was I so stupid to let her go? It's not going to happen again, not after last night. She kissed me. She's kissed me before, little pecks on the cheek or forehead, a few on the lips, but always chaste; small and soft. Last night was soft, hard, wet, hungry, passionate, urgent. Merlin knows I almost couldn't stop myself. I wanted to feel her, love her, worship every inch of her body. If only it was just her and I - minus Ron. What a tangled web we weave.
My mind ventures into more musings of what I want to do with her, to her. Somehow my thoughts take a harsh turn to what I want to do to her bastard of a husband, my best friend. I want to hit him, maim him, rip him to shreds. I want to kill him. He has no right to do what he has done to her.
I won't even fool with the wand. That would be too easy. I'm not known as 'The Man Who Defeated Voldemort' because I talked him into submission. Ron knows not to cross me with a wand. I'd have him hexed before he even had his hand out of his pocket. No, I will confront him bare handed. I know I need to talk to him; find out what happened from his side. But I honestly don't care anymore. I've watched it too long. I can't take it anymore.
I sit up and look out the window. The sun is up. I've been sitting her thinking for at least 4 hours with no sleep. It's not like I'm going to sleep now, I might as well go talk to the prat. I stand up and cast a few cleansing and freshening charms. I don't even bother with my hair anymore, what's the point? I step toward the fireplace casting a quick glance to my bedroom door where she is probably still sleeping. She'll probably kill me for this, but he needs to learn. I step in and throw a pinch of powder. "The Nest!" and I am suddenly thrown onto the hearthrug of Ron and Hermione's home.
Ron is sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. He doesn't look up, but I know he knows I'm there. There's an empty bottle of fire whiskey on the table and the smell of the room suggests that he drank it all and then some. Not until I sit down in the chair across from him does he lift his head to acknowledge me.
"Harry."
"Ron."
"I fucked up didn't I?"
"That's the understatement of the year, mate." Why am I being jovial? I hate him. He's my best friend, but right now, I hate him.
"How is she?" His eyes are red and bloodshot. His face is pale making his freckles stand out horrendously. He looks terrible.
"She's fine. Upset, but fine." Yeah, now that I confessed my undying love for her, she's bloody perfect; no thanks to you.
"I'm sorry, Harry," he says weakly.
"I'm not the one who deserves the apology, Ron. You need to tell her the truth. Everything." He looks up at me with a haunted look in his eye. He knows I know. He knows he can't lie to me and I press on. "Did you sleep with her?"
His face falls and it seems that the floor has become more interesting than me. His ears are turning red and I take the silence as his answer. "Why, Ron? You had everything you could ever want in the palm of your hand and you throw it away for some tart?"
Oh, I've done it. I see the fire in his eyes as he glares at me. C'mon Ron, yell, scream, hit me. C'mon. "She's not a tart." His voice is still so hollow that the anger in his eyes isn't extended to the defense of his mistress.
"It's Lavender, for gods sake, Ron. Most every man in the wizarding world has had her." Except for me, but that's beside the point.
His head falls into his hands again. "She's gone isn't she?"
"I don't know." I hope that she is to him. I pray that she is.
"Why am I so stupid, Harry?"
I can't help but chuckle lightly, "Do you really want me to answer that?"
He snorts back and I see a small spark in his eye. "She deserves better than me." Did I just hear him right? My eyes are probably as big as saucers at his confession.
"Ron…" I start, but don't know what to say after that. He's right, I can't argue. She does deserve better. I am just astounded that he has finally caught on.
"No, Harry. I cheated on her. Not once, not twice, but many times. I've lied to her. I've lied to my kids. They don't even see me. I'm so ashamed of myself. I can't face them. That's why I don't come home." I can see the tears falling. God why do I have to be in the middle of this? "I love her, Harry…" My heart breaks, tears straight in two. "… but I'm not in love with her." What?!
He must have seen the look of confusion flash across my face. "I loved her more than anything. I don't know what happened, but one day I woke up and it just wasn't there anymore. Does that make sense?" I nod absently, not believing what I'm hearing. "I know I shouldn't have strung her along. I hate myself for it, but I can't go back. I can't live like this anymore. I'm in love with Lavender. I have been for a while."
"How long has this been going on, Ron?" I don't know if I really want to hear this. I steel myself for a shock.
"Four years." There's the shock. I can't help but let my emotions fly of the handle.
"FOUR YEARS? Jesus, Ron. You have been hurting your family for four fucking years? How could you do this? How could you let it go on this long? I have stood by you and defended you for ten years. I have watched my best friends fight and get back together. I have even urged you to stay together and you've been lying for four years? You're really damn lucky I don't hit you right now." I have to stand up. I have to walk around. I am fighting the urge to rip him a new asshole. I can't believe him. Four bloody years?! I punch the wall. It's better that than his face. I ignore the pain searing through my hand as I start pacing harshly in front of the fireplace, which suddenly bursts into immense flames. My anger is so high, I know that was me. So does he.
"Do you realize what you have done to her? Do you realize that she doubts her worth, her intelligence, and her appearance?" Ron looks up at me then. His face blanches. I know my eyes are burning at him. I am really struggling to keep my temper down. I want to hurt him so bad. "Ron, she thinks that she did something wrong. Did she?"
He shakes his head. "Does she really blame herself?"
"For fuck's sake. Why wouldn't she? Suddenly you're sleeping around on her and not touching her. What would you think?"
"I am the biggest asshole on the face of the earth." By jove, I think he's got it.
"Ron, you need to talk to her. You need to talk to the kids. This can't happen anymore. She can't take it anymore. I can't take it anymore. I have watched her breakdown and come to me. I hold her and console her and she always comes back just for it all to happen again in two weeks. My heart breaks a little more every time. Last night was the last straw."
His eyes suddenly become clear and he looks at me quizzically. "Harry, you're in love with her aren't you?" Oh shit. Oh shit. I can't deny it. I know he can see it in my eyes.
He smiles at me. I want to kill him and he smiles at me? "Harry, you deserve to be happy too. Is that why you never dated anyone? You always told me that were stuck on someone. I never thought it was Hermione. Why didn't you say anything?"
How the hell did this get turned around? How the hell did he figure it out? "What was I supposed to say? 'Hey, Ron, I'm in love with your wife.' Yeah, that would have gone over real well, wouldn't it?" I sit down again. I can't believe that the thickest prat in England caught on to me and my secret. I wasn't obvious was I? What the hell do I do now?
"Harry, I'm not mad. She is easy to fall in love with. She and I just couldn't get past the petty arguments. Harry, we have been through a lot together. I know that you probably hate me right now, and you have every reason to. I love her and I love you, you both deserve to be happy. I'm not the one for her. That's obvious. You've always picked her up when she's down. I know she stayed with you whenever we fought. You're her best friend. You're my best friend. I know it may take a while to forgive me. I hope Hermione will forgive me. But this is for the best, right?"
I am waiting for Rod Serling to come in and tell me I'm in the Twilight Zone. You know that muggle show about weird stories? Yeah, I would sneak and watch it over Dudley's shoulder as a kid. I feel like I'm in one of those shows. I'm waiting for the eerie music. I look dumbly at Ron. What am I supposed to say? I hate him for hurting Hermione, but I am happy because now that I can show her how much she is loved. My mind cannot comprehend the conflicting emotions I have. I still want to punch him, just to make me feel better, and to better justify the pain in my now bruised and swollen hand.
"Ron, talk to her. Be gentle, please. I don't know if I can handle her breaking down again. Not yet." I stand facing him, offering him my good hand. He nods and shakes my hand. It may take a while for me to completely forgive him, but I'm not the one that counts. Hermione is. I bite my tongue to keep from blurting out the anger that still wants to come out. I'm not even sure what I'm mad about anymore or what else can be said. I turn to head toward the fireplace, before I can step into it, Ron says my name.
"Harry? Take care of her. She deserves it." I don't have to force the smile on my face as I nod and floo back home.
I settle myself in the kitchen with a cup of tea and a bag of ice across my knuckles. My mind is still trying to sort through what just happened. I went to yell at him, degrade him, make him feel guilty. And then he turns it around on me. I know he feels guilty. I know he loves Hermione. But I also know that he wants what's best for her. I hope I can be that.