A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! *hugs*
Now, brace yourselves, for a chapter where nothing really happens. Just wanted to work out some of the consequences of Harry and Hermione deciding what they did. And don't worry, happier times are coming!
~Part III~
Repercussions A year and some months later…
It was dark, getting late.
Ron Weasley stood at the window of his flat in London and stared outside, thinking, remembering.
Remembering three kids who had been inseparable, three adults who had hurt each other without meaning to, months and months of brooding misery that had followed… Months of not talking to or seeing Harry or Hermione at all…
He knew how they were doing, of course. Occasionally heard snippets on the radio, Harry's life always being such a fascinating topic to the wizarding public, and in the past few months, he heard from Ginny.
His entire family had cut off Harry and Hermione, rallying around him, in those months he never liked to think about now, after that disastrous wedding-that-wasn't.
His mother had been hurt, disappointed as she had always cared about Hermione and wanted her for a daughter, and torn by the fact that Hermione had hurt her youngest son for the boy whom she had practically adopted as well and loved almost as another son.
Ginny had been hurt as well, not because of any lingering feelings for Harry, as she'd gotten over her crush years ago, but out of loyalty to him and some feelings of betrayal at Hermione, who'd always been one of her closest friends, more like a sister than a friend. Ginny had been ecstatic when he and Hermione had gotten engaged. It had taken months before Ginny had forgiven Hermione and Harry and renewed their friendship.
He was glad about Ginny's rapprochement with them. His own anger had taken longer to come to terms with.
His family had tried to cheer him, their sympathy getting almost cloying after a while, and he had retreated, taken a leave of absence from his job and gone to lick his wounds and heal.
Until one day he'd woken up to realize that he didn't love Hermione in that way. He'd thought he had and maybe a part of him still did and always would, but he wasn't in love with her. He found himself remembering all those little traits about her that he had always found irritating but had loyally refrained from thinking about or mentioning.
And he missed Harry, missed being able to joke with him, missed Harry's teasing rolling of eyes whenever Ron made some comment about the Chudley Cannons.
He missed the Dream Team. The way it was never really spoken but they had always somehow known that they would do anything for each other if it was necessary. The way they were all so different but somehow all fit, like puzzle pieces that just clicked to form a whole. The jokes they'd shared, whether it was over Hermione's lack of Quidditch knowledge, or Harry's inability to perform charms the first time he learned them, or his own love of the Chudley Cannons.
He sighed heavily, as he had found himself doing more and more often these days, and wondered how Harry and Hermione would react if he went to see them.
He supposed they would be glad to see him. He hoped they would be glad to see him.
He missed them, his best friends.
He wondered if this was the way people felt when they lost limbs, the feeling that something vitally important was missing that should be there. Harry and Hermione had been such central parts of his life from that first day on the Hogwarts Express so many years ago that not having them present in his life just felt wrong.
Wrong. Funny word, that. His life in the past year and more since the wedding-that-wasn't had been just that. Off-kilter, unbalanced, not quite right, however you put it, it was the same, just wrong.
He supposed what Harry and Hermione had done to him had been wrong, too, in the moral sense of right and wrong. And yet, he understood. Now.
He had done little else in those first months but think of it: himself, Harry, and Hermione and the classic love triangle they had formed. He'd gone back through all his memories of their years of friendship, examined the memories to the point that he'd wanted to make a Pensieve so he could easily access all his memories. And he'd seen and remembered all the little signs from years ago of Hermione's feelings for Harry vs. her feelings for him.
He knew that Hermione did love him. She had said she did and Hermione didn't lie, was fundamentally incapable of lying. It went against the directness that was part of her. It was one of the things he liked best about her. She did love him as a friend, but she had always loved Harry as more than a friend.
He remembered all the times he'd seen her face and eyes light up at the sight of Harry, all the times she'd gone with him to Quidditch practices or matches, always to watch Harry, even though it was never spoken. He knew she had never really liked Quidditch and yet she never missed a game. Even during their third year, when she had been taking so many classes and she'd barely slept at all, she'd never missed a game. And it had been for Harry, he knew that.
He remembered and now he wondered how he could ever have thought that he and Hermione were meant for each other. There had been so many signs all along of her true feelings, signs that he'd either ignored or not understood.
He continued to stare out at the night sky, watching as slowly the lights in people's windows started to turn off.
Harry, Hermione, I forgive you. I miss you guys.
Not too far away, another young man was also staring out the window, although he didn't see any of the lights shining out of the darkness.
His green eyes were fixed as he thought about Ron, his best friend. He never thought of Ron as his former best friend, even though in all actuality, that was what Ron was. He'd never stopped thinking of Ron as his best friend, still missed him with an intensity that felt almost physical. Never, since that brief estrangement in fourth year, had he and Ron not been talking. Only now, all contact between himself and Ron had been cut off.
He remembered seeing the Weasleys that day so long ago, a lost, confused eleven-year-old wondering how to get to Platform 9 and ¾, meeting Ron and talking to him. He remembered that brutal chess game they'd played at the end of first year and Ron's sacrificing himself.
He remembered Ron's face when they'd heard that it was Ginny who'd been taken down into the Chamber of Secrets. Ron, with a broken leg in the Shrieking Shack still trying to stand up against Sirius to protect him. Ron…
Ron was so central to all his memories of Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione and himself. The unbeatable, inseparable trio. Or so they'd thought.
But they weren't children anymore and mature feelings and emotions had gotten in the way.
He didn't start when he felt Hermione come up behind him and slide her arms around his waist. It was a habitual position for them, so he just shifted a little to put his arms around her, resting his chin on her head after dropping a quick kiss on her hair.
Her voice was quiet. "You're thinking about Ron." It wasn't a question.
He sighed. "Yes."
"You know Ginny said she thinks he's forgiven us."
"I hope he has, but forgiving is different from understanding."
Hermione didn't answer; there was no need to. They had talked about this before. It was a recurring conversation between them.
They both missed having Ron in their lives. They both felt guilty over what they'd done.
There was a brief silence, before Hermione voiced a question that had begun to bother her more and more these past months as the estrangement with Ron dragged on with no sign of ending. "Harry, are you sorry about us?"
Immediately, he drew back to look at her. "No, I'm not. I couldn't be, not when I know just how important you are to me."
It amazed him sometimes, that she still seemed to doubt the depth of his feelings for her. He'd known for so long now that he wouldn't last for long without her. She was so much a part of him, so entwined with his heart and life that he couldn't imagine not loving her.
She smiled a little, feeling reassured.
He paused, then asked in a low voice, "Are you?"
Startled she raised her eyes to meet his. "Of course not! Harry, you're everything to me. However much I care about Ron, and however sorry I am that I had to hurt him so much, I could never be sorry to be with you. I'm only sorry it took me so long to find the courage to tell you. We could have spared ourselves and him a lot of heartache."
Harry only kissed her forehead in response, as she rested her head on his chest.
She could feel his heart beating against her cheek, its steady rhythm somehow reassuring her, as she relaxed into his embrace.
They were happy, oh so happy, but they had paid a heavy price for their happiness, she knew.
They stood like that for a while, watching as the lights went out around them.
Later they went up to their room in a comfortable silence.
Neither said a word as he slid over to her, his hands moving over her body. She arched towards him, responding, still in silence.
No words were necessary.
She gasped his name once, "Harry!" as she came. He said nothing as he shuddered above her, before collapsing at her side, automatically reaching out to draw her close to him.
"I love you, Hermione. Forever," he murmured softly as he drifted into sleep.
Her heart swelled as she watched him, the love of her life, fall asleep, before snuggling beside him. All was right in her world when she was in his arms.
A/N 2: Please review and let me know what you think! As always, the more reviews I get, the quicker I'll post again!