Champagne High

Champagne High

Songfic based on Sister Hazel’s Champagne High

It was so surreal. Standing there next to his best mate as he watched him say his vows and protest his undying love to the woman he use to love. Still loved, he corrected as he resisted the urge to rub his chest where his heart ached. When he was with Hermione he wasn’t looking to the future. It never crossed his mind to. That was his mistake.

He looked over at Hermione and his stomach clenched. She looked radiant and wondered if she ever had that distinct twinkle in her eyes when she looked at him. No, he thought as he only half listened to the vows she promised to Harry. No, that look was reserved for only one man. It wasn’t him and that stung.

“Do you Harry, take this women to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

He heard Harry take in a shaky breath and his voice cracked when he spoke. “I do.”

“And do you Hermione take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

She tilted her head and smiled through her eyes that shimmered through tears. “I do.”

Ron shut his eyes as a wave of sadness hit him like a fist to the gut. Merlin, did it have to hurt so much? To stand by and watch him lose her forever? Would it have been different if he hadn’t hesitated? She had left him undone the day she had confirmed his suspicion and told him she loved Harry…and only him.

I wasn’t looking for a lifetime with you
And I never thought it would hurt just to hear
’i do’ and ’i do’
And I do a number on myself
And all that I thought to be
And you’ll be the one
That just left me undone
By my own, hesitation

He watched them embrace and as their lips met he smiled slightly through the hurt and remembered how they once had been. Although they bickered once every two seconds, they had some good times. But they hadn’t meant to last. Hermione found the man she was meant to love the day she stepped into their train compartment when they were kids. He let out a breath as the minister announced the brand new Mr. & Mrs. Harry Potter. His quest to find the same kind of unconditional love was far from over.

And for the million hours that we were
Well I’ll smile and remember it all
Then I’ll turn and go
While your story’s completed mine is a long way from done.

He wondered if anyone would notice that he had his own bottle of champagne perched next to him…complements of Dobby. He was sitting by himself at one of the many tables in the Great Hall where the reception was being held. He considered drinking straight from the bottle, but that would have been a bit to obvious, so he settled for the tall slim flute. He filled it to the top and slammed it back.

Well I’m on a champagne high
Where will I be when I stop wondering why
On a champagne high, high

Ron started to recall when Harry and Hermione first started to date. As the seasons passed the closer and closer they became, that by winter it was almost too painful to even be in the same room as them. They tried to hide it as much as they could, they hardly ever showed much affection when he was around. At times he walked in on them or as much as he knew it was wrong watch them without them knowing…completely harmless of course….

Ron trotted down the steps of the Burrow and headed towards the kitchen. It was Christmas Eve and his mother--Bless her--was by the stove preparing a feast. “Smells good, Mum.”

“Ah, Ron there you are.” She lifted the wooden spoon filled with her famous gravy and offered her eighteen year old son the first taste. “Here love, tell me what you think.”

Happy to oblige, since Mum hardly ever let any of them sneak a taste, he gratefully took a sip and his taste buds danced. “You’re my hero, Mum.”

“Doesn’t need salt?”

“Nope, perfect.”

“Good.” She blew out a breath. “That’s good. On to the dressing. Oh…Harry and Hermione arrived. They’re in the den.”

“Oh.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Okay then.”

Mrs. Weasley’s heart went out to her son. Although he towered over her he was still her baby boy. “I can tell them you’re not feeling well…if you’d like to sneak back upstairs and…”

“No Mum…it’s okay.” He kissed her cheek. “But thanks for looking out for me.”

With that said he left her in the kitchen and headed towards the den. He stopped short outside the archway going in, unnoticed by either of them. They sat close together on the couch as the Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner and the fire crackled with life in the small fireplace. They were kissing. Ever so slowly…ever so lightly and he tried to remember if Hermione had ever kissed him like that. Just once. But he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Because she never did.

It was for the best. To not only leave them alone that Christmas Eve night, but to leave what he had with Hermione. What they had was real and he cared for her as much as he could. Unfortunately, in the end…it wasn’t enough. And here he was, he thought bitterly as he filled his flute again. Still alone and drowning himself in bubbly at the celebration of Mr. and Mrs. Harry Freakin Potter.

Spring turned to summer
But then winter turned to mean
The distance seemed right
At the time it was best - to leave
And to leave behind
What I once thought was fine and so real - to me
And while I’m still gone
On the quest for my song
I’m at your - celebration

Ron could remember the exact moment when he knew he was lost to Hermione Granger. Now Hermione Potter. It was a bittersweet moment for Ron, because it was on the day that Harry defeated Voldemort.

“Ron!” Hermione dropped to the grass next to him. “Are you all right?”

“Son of a motherless hippogriff!” he groaned as he sat up holding his aching head.

“Nice Ron,” she said as she helped him sit up.

“My head is throbbing and I can’t feel my legs. Stupid Death Eater.”

“Well the stupid Death Eater is unconscious and you still have your sarcasm. You’re going to be fine.”

“I don’t feel fine,” he groaned.

“I need to go fine Harry…”

“What? No, wait!” He grabbed her arm before she could run off. “Hermione, you could get hurt…”

“Harry is still out there, I have to help him….Ron let me go….Oh gods.”

Ron watched as she trailed off and her eyes widened and he turned towards the top of the slight hill to see a dark figure stumbling over the top. He didn’t have to look twice to realize who it was and he closed his eyes in relief. He heard Hermione sob and tear her arm away from his grip and call out his name.

He let her go and watch her run to him up the top of the hill where the moonlight shined down on Harry. He saw the look on his face when he realized that Hermione was safe and alive. It was a look he’d never forget. He crumbled on his knees seconds before Hermione joined him and took her in his arms. He rocked her as they wept together under the silvery moon, stroking her hair as he murmured into her ear.

He had to look away. He pushed the thought aside, but he knew that Hermione could never love him like that and he surely could never love Hermione the way Harry did. By the time Lupin came to him to help him up, he glanced back over one last time. They hadn’t moved and they were still in a tight embrace.

To this day he still did not know how long they stayed like that on the small hilltop. That night though, was the end of the road for them. Hermione found a new path and he was still searching for his.

And for the million hours that we were
Well I’ll smile and remember it all
Then I’ll turn and go
While your story’s completed mine is a long way from done.

Ron lifted his newly fresh glass and looked through the middle of the gold sparkling liquid. Through it he saw his two best friends dancing on the dance floor in a sweet embrace as they swayed back and forth. They both looked so happy and dammit…what was he suppose to say in his much anticipated toast. Lie? Say how happy he was for them?

That wasn’t true. He was happy for them but he wasn’t….happy. He lifted his glass to the newly married couple behind their backs in a very sarcastic manner before taking another sip. He was definitely very close to being champagne happy.

Well I’m on a champagne high
Where will I be when I stop wondering why
On a champagne high
I’d toast to the future but that’d be a lie
On a champagne high, high

What was that muggle tradition? The bride needs something new, burrowed and something old. Harry was her something new, that was obvious. As for burrowed? Well, he wasn’t exactly rolling in the galleons, but what little he had she was more than welcome to. He sighed and took another sip of the champagne that was now starting to taste like water to him. He was her something old and hell…he was so damn blue it was depressing. Huh. Isn’t that ironic?

Your wagons been hitched to a star
Well now he’ll be your thing that’s new
Yeah what little I have you can borrow
’cause I’m old and I’m blue...

And for the million hours that we were
Well I’ll smile and remember it all
Then I’ll turn and go
While your story’s completed mine is a long way from done

Well I’m on a champagne high
Where will I be when I stop wondering why
On a champagne high
I’d toast to the future but that’d be a lie
On a champagne high, high

Ron finished off the bottle filling his flute to the rim and slammed it back on the table. His eyes looked at his glass as if he was testing it. “Well, you’re the last one.” He picked it up. “Bottoms up.” Before he could lift it to drink and small slender hand grabbed his wrist and he looked up to see a pair of familiar blue eyes gazing down at him. He blinked the face into focus. “Luna?”

She smiled as she took the glass from him and set it aside. “I was wondering, Ronald. If you would care to dance?”

He blinked up at her again in confusion as her face became more clear through the champagne fuzz. Was she always this beautiful? Did she always have those cute freckles across her nose and a smile that simply lit a fire deep in his gut. He opened his mouth to speak but since no words came out he thought nodding would have to do.

She laughed softly and it rang in my ears as he let her pull him to the dance floor, worming their way through the sea of couples. She turned and beamed up at him as she pressed her body up against his. He couldn’t help but notice the same kind of twinkle in her eyes that Hermione had when she looked at Harry. He swallowed the lump in his throat when she rested her head against his chest and soon felt like he had two left feet.

She felt surprisingly good against him and her scent seem to invade all his senses. How come he never noticed her before? Was he too wrapped up in Hermione to notice? He looked over at Harry and Hermione as if he was looking for an answer and their eyes met his. They were smiling at him and he couldn’t help but smile back. Ron waited for the pain to hit him like it always did when he saw them together, but it never did.

He looked back down at Luna to see him looking back up at him. He felt her tilt her head up and their lips met in a soft kiss. His mind was fuzzy, but not from the champagne. She was kissing him like he had always wanted to be kissed.

Maybe his quest had finally ended after all.

The End