Unofficial Portkey Archive

Author's Note: I'm sorry if this came out later than I'd promised, but someone I worked with committed suicide on Tuesday, so my week was filled with tears and funerals. I wasn't much in the romance/humor mood. I got to university during the week, full time, and work 20 hours in a grocery store, so my free time is minimal. Today was it ;) I hope you guys enjoy it anyway.
Also, thank you to Sen (love you twar much) who dealt with my insanity and reviewed all the previous chapters and this one with me.

The next day did not go according to plan. It went opposite of according to plan, starting with me being buried under a large pile of overdue reports, on a Sunday no less, and ending with me falling asleep sitting at my desk. I'd come in to clear most of my schedule and make sure I would not have such a busy week. I hoped it would allow me to spend some time thinking about what I would say to Ron, and more importantly, about what I would say to Hermione. But the amount of work I was facing was more important than I'd ever imagined, a good portion of which was overdue work. When had I gotten so lazy?

Waking up with my face stuck to an open file on the top of my desk had been marvelous. Stiff neck, growling stomach, splitting headache. The essentials of a good morning. I seriously felt as though I'd gotten plastered the night before and that only made the fact that this was Monday morning even more nauseating.

Even worse was the fact that this marked day two of my allowed two weeks and I still wasn't any closer to talking to either Ron or Hermione.

After a quick floo at home, I returned to work, exhausted but intent on finishing as quickly as possible. I actually succeeded in doing so by 2 in the afternoon. It came as a great shock to me, but also to Tonks, who gave me a wide-eyed look as I dropped the one foot thick pile of reports on her desk. By then, I could barely stand, my eyes were burning terribly and my stomach had probably started digesting itself. That probably explains why I collapsed on the couch as soon as I got home and fell asleep. When I woke up, it was Tuesday. Day three.

Sunday morning had been horrifying. I'd not slept much, my newly revealed feelings for Harry having kept me awake for most of the night, and I spent the day cleaning my flat thoroughly, because at least that allowed me to not think about how much trouble I was in. In love with Harry? Now that would truly be the end of me.

Not that the prospect of being in love with Harry was so horrifying in itself. I'd actually gone through it once, mostly during our third and fourth years at Hogwarts, but I'd soon dismissed it as a teenage crush. Harry and I were just friends and we were doing a great job at that. Except that I was in love with him.

Ginny invited me over for supper on Monday but I declined the invitation, knowing that I wouldn't be able to resist blurting out the whole truth if I was in the same room as her. Her ability to make people spill the beans always terrified me, but I guess it's only natural, having grown up with Mrs. Weasley as a model and the twins as test dummies. So my Monday was spent working very much accordingly to the clock hanging on my office wall, cross-referencing things from our collection for the new Beauxbâtons Histoire de la Magie teacher. When Tuesday morning came, finding me asleep on the couch where I'd dozed off while reading a book, I'd successfully avoided thinking about Harry for two whole days. Except for the dozens of times when I did think about him. But at least, I'd avoided reflecting on what I was going to do. It was unlike me in pretty much every way possible, but it's what I needed. After the emotional rollercoaster of the last week, the last thing I needed was to come clean to Harry about my feelings for him and listen to him babble that while he loved me, he simply wasn't in love with me.

'Hello Harry,' a serene voice called as Luna walked in the kitchen where I was having breakfast and sat opposite me at the table. Her waist-length hair was floating around her like a veil, giving her a dreamy look, as if I wasn't completely awake. With a glance at my bowl of cereal, she let out a disapproving sigh and I smiled while still chewing on my food. Her comment would surely light up my Tuesday morning. 'It won't do.'

I was shocked. Not only had that made sense, it actually sounded like something Hermione would say, scolding me on my unbalanced eating habits. Swallowing, I tried to explain that I was in a hurry but she shook her head, shutting me up. 'I wasn't talking about the food. I was talking about her.'

My jaw dropped and before I could come up with anything coherent to say, Ron walked in. I tried not to stare as he wrapped his arms around his fiancée's shoulders from behind her, slightly bent forward, and leaned his chin on the top of her head. She didn't make much of it, reaching for an apple in the fruit basket in front of her and taking a bite out of it. I don't think my presence made much of a difference, Ron seemed completely out of it, a content smile on his face. Eventually, Luna announced that she had to go to work (she wrote for her father in The Quibbler, a job that suited her very well) and she kissed Ron as she got up before flooing to work. She didn't like apparating for some reason, something about an aunt having spread all over the United Kingdom. Having seen some rather horrific apparating accidents in my line of duty, I had to admit that story actually sounded plausible.

Ron sat in Luna's now empty chair and smiled at me. Shaking my head at the sight of my best friend being so taken with his girlfriend, I got up and placed my now empty bowl in the sink, chanting the incantation to have it clean itself as I waved my wand over it, then put it back in my pocket.

'I swear mate, once you get engaged, the sex just gets even better.'

Had I still been eating, I probably would have choked. With wide eyes, I turned to Ron and simply glared.

'Bloody hell, Harry. I know you've been a saint for the past year or so, but that's no reason for acting appalled like some girl,' Ron said with a smirk on his face. 'Speaking of which, what's up with that? Granted, you were never the one night stand kind, but no girlfriends, no dates?'

There, that was my window of opportunity. I simply had to come clean, to tell him that there was someone but that I'd been holding back, largely on account of him. Taking a deep breath, I gathered all of my courage and simply said the words. 'There is somebody. It's just complicated.'

Merlin, I'd done it.

'Now, that's what I like to hear,' Ron said, pushing his chair back so that he could more easily turn to look at me, as I was standing behind him. 'Except the whole complicated part. Why's that?'

'Well, it's someone I've known for a long time and she's got... a history that's not easily dealt with,' I began, rattling my brain for what to say next. How about, I'm desperately in love with your ex, want to kill me now or should I come back later? Quick and effective. Not to mention, deadly.

'Hogwarts girl?' Ron asked, getting up and pouring himself a cup of coffee before adding about five sugar cubes to it. My throat was drier than the Sahara so I simply nodded. Ron leaned his back to the counter next to me and tasted his coffee, apparently waiting for me to continue. That was the point of no return, I knew it. Now that he knew I was interested in a girl we'd gone to Hogwarts with, I'd never see the end of it. And obviously, in less than two weeks, he would know anyway.

I just didn't expect him to beat me to the punch.

'So, Hermione, huh?' Ron said between two sips of coffee on a nonchalant tone. All the blood drained from my face and my breath caught in my throat as I stared at him in consternation. A smug smile on his face, he walked over to the table and dropped back in his seat. How could he possibly have known? More importantly, if he knew, why hadn't he killed me in my sleep yet? While my internal debate went on, I was vaguely aware of Ron browsing through the Daily Prophet, apparently unaffected by my silence.

Finally, it hit me. My face red, parted between being furious and feeling relieved, I let out a long sigh. 'Ginny told you.'

'Ginny told me,' Ron said with a nod, closing the Prophet and leaning back in his chair.

'Why am I not dead yet?' I began, almost regretting saying the words as soon as they were out. Inviting hostilities certainly wasn't a smart move. I watched as Ron got up and faced me, his arms crossed over his chest. He was still wearing pajama pants and a t-shirt, even though it was almost 8 in the morning and he ought to be heading to Gringotts soon. He took a few steps towards me and I was suddenly reminded of facing Voldemort, years before, and thinking that this was the end of me. I was sure that at any moment, a blow would land on my face and he'd break my jaw.

Any second now.

But suddenly, his serious expression faded and he broke into a loud laugh. For the second time in five minutes, I was left speechless.

'Harry, mate! Sure, had this been two years ago, I probably would have killed your sorry arse. But, now? I'm with Luna. Hermione and I, we're quite done. And personally, I think it's wicked.'

'Pardon me?' I said, blinking, in shock. Placing his hand squarely on my shoulder, Ron sighed and looked at me as though I was an idiot child he had to explain something to. I was starting to believe that I truly was, because none of what he had said in the past minutes made any kind of sense to me.

'I think it's great. Hermione and you? If I had to chose a guy for her, you'd be the best candidate. Frankly, I think you two deserve each other.'

With that, he turned away from me and left the kitchen without giving me time to reply. Minutes later, it started to sink in that I'd actually had 'the talk' with Ron. And that it had gone well. To say I'd expected it to go wrong would have been an understatement. I think I even wanted it to go wrong, in a way, because then I'd have an excuse for not being able to tell Hermione. Not that I wasn't ready to fight for her, I just wasn't certain there was anything to fight for. My feelings weren't returned, as far as I knew, and they might never be. Maybe Ron thought we deserved each other, but that didn't mean Hermione wanted me.

The talk with Ron was off my plate. Now I needed to tell Hermione about my feelings for her. I also needed to tell her about the midnight kiss.

Tuesday was probably the worst day of my adult life. It began with the artifacts for our next exhibit having been delivered to Austria and an emergency owl from a very panicked curator. It continued on with a full day of working with no meal whatsoever, from 6 am to 8 pm. I came home and was unable to find Crookshanks, no matter how many times I actually tried to Accio him. The rest of my week hadn't been much more brilliant, the highlight of it all being a hundred pieces that were delivered to our museum by mistake and a large portion of them ending up being stored in my own office temporarily, because our storage space was already filled to the brink. When Friday finally came, I was more than ready to leave all this behind. I'd never been one to buckle under the demands of my job, or under any pressure for that is, but that week had been it for me. It had been one long chain of troubles and I was starting to think that this year wasn't looking too good. Ron getting engaged, work starting to be too much when it was supposed to be a quiet period, the secret kisser I didn't have the time to think about anymore... And on top of it all, my feelings for Harry. I'd avoided him all week, owling back that I was too busy (which quite frankly, wasn't really a lie) everytime he'd want to meet up for lunch. I just wasn't ready to deal with this yet. I needed to think this through, I needed the logic all of this was lacking. I needed the Hermione perspective.

I was heading out, when something in the corner of my office caught my eye. It was sort of a soft silvery glow and it sparked my interest, causing me to explore further into the mass of artifacts I hadn't yet had the time to examine to find the source. When finally I did, I stood there and marvelled. It was a Pensieve, granted an old one, but a Pensieve nonetheless. And just the thing I needed. Throwing a nervous glance over my shoulder to make sure that I was alone, I took out my wand and pressed the tip against my temple. Hoping I was doing it right (for all my readings on Pensieves, it was actually the first time I was using one), I pulled the memory I wanted to revisit from my mind and put it in the Pensieve. It felt odd, as if my mind were suddenly clearing. It wasn't anywhere close to a fresh plate, but it did feel like some pressure was taken off my shoulders. Taking a deep breath, I then bent forward and peered down into the stone basin. Before I knew it, I felt myself tumbling forward, falling into the memory as if I was falling off a cliff. I landed rather disgracefully on a bench next to the entrance of the ballroom, letting out a loud grunt of pain. .

It took me a few seconds to regain my composure, as I was still feeling the exhilaration from the fall, but when I finally did, I gave an astounded look at the people that walked past me as if I werent even there. None of them seemed to notice that I had just fallen from the sky, or that I was waving my hands in front of their eyes. Of course, if this were a memory, none of them would be able to see me, would they? This was a memory after all and not a visit to the past as I could have done with a Time-Turner. I was merely there as an observant, not an actor.

The thought seemed to wake me up, reminding that I was there for a reason. Diving into the crowd, I made my way to where I remembered standing when it had happened, growing more and more nervous as people started counting down the seconds leading up to midnight. I'd just about made it there, when the room was plunged into darkness. Cursing under my breath, I waited for the light to return and when it did, I found myself facing my ownself.

I watched as I pressed my fingers against my lips, a dazed look on my face that would make Luna proud. But watching my own reaction would teach me nothing. Turning away from myself, I looked around for a familiar face, for a man that would be looking at me in a revealing way. No luck. I was just about to give up when I finally spotted someone, simply not the person I was looking for. A raven-haired wizard was making his way through the crowd and I stared, transfixed, as he turned around and looked straight at me.

But no, it couldn't be. I wasn't thinking rationally. This was a Pensieve, I was visiting one of my memories. Harry couldn't see me, he was only staring at something else and I was simply standing between him and that. But the way he looked at me made me feel more special than I'd ever felt in my whole life. It made me feel like running up to him and kissing him. It made me feel loved.

Holding my breath, I started to turn, not sure if I wanted to see who he was looking at. If it was another woman, I would probably collapse in a heap of tears. On the other hand, if the person he was looking at in such a way was a man, I would probably kill myself. But suddenly, I felt myself being pulled back, as if an arm were hooked around my waist. I emerged from the Pensieve, stumbling backward clumsily through the wooden cases and almost falling over. Giving the Pensieve a longing look, I wanted nothing more but to go back in and stand between whatever Harry was looking at and him, so that his loving stare would rest on me. So that I would feel what it could possibly feel like to be loved back by Harry. I knew better though. Collecting back the thought and putting it where it belonged, I grabbed my cloak and purse and headed out into the apparating hall (we couldn't possibly have people apparating all over the exhibits without paying to see them). It was enough for today.

After a surprising conversation with Ron, I set out to meet up with Hermione so that we'd have a chance to talk. Throughout the week, she dodged every single lunch date, claiming she was too busy, which I had to admit was probably true. I kept busy myself, going on a basic field mission on Thursday to keep an eye on Knockturn Alley and helping train new Aurors for the rest of the week. Most of the them seemed awed to meet me but I didn't make much of it. I was used to people staring at my scar, no matter how much I made sure my hair covered it.

When I came back from work on Friday night, Ron suggested getting pissed but I declined. He made a crack about moping over Hermione, making me think that he was enjoying that whole situation a bit too much. It was even destabilizing. Waking up on Monday, the first thought that crossed my mind was that I had wasted a week.

Author's Note:
In case some of you didn't know, 'pissed' refers to 'drunk', in the UK anyway. That paragraph doesn't make any sense when you don't know.
Hope you guys liked it. The title of this chapter refers to two things, 'One Down' as in one week over, but also as in, one conversation down, one to go. Also, yay, used my mother tongue in that one (french)! Histoire de la Magie is obviously History of Magic.
I remember someone leaving a review after the first chapter that said 'Ron would be angry at first, then learn to accept them' so I think it was probably the general idea. But sincerely, I did not want to make this too much of a Ron/Hermione/Harry story, not more than it already is. Ron is a good person and he's never been an asshole in my eyes. I don't think I could ever write him as one. While deep down, he might feel a little pinch at the thought of Harry and Hermione together (I mean, who would love to see their ex and their best friend together? Personally, it's a situation I'm currently living with, and quite comfortably so, even if it was a bit weird at first), he is deeply in love with Luna and engaged to be married. His feelings for Hermione are something of the past and while she's still more special to him than she was in the early Hogwarts years, she's just a friend he's now looking out for.
Now the question is, who wants to kill Ginny?