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Just Forget The World by Blissfully Absent Minded
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Just Forget The World

Blissfully Absent Minded

Hey all,

I apologize for taking so long to post this final chapter, but I've been out of town for a few days and didn't have internet access. Though wouldn't it be fantastic if campgrounds provided wireless internet? Anyway, enjoy and please review.

Blissfull

They returned to a dark apartment with reluctance, both wishing they could have stayed forever at the small country bed and breakfast they'd visited. They left their shoes and bags in the entryway and ventured into the living room, ready to collapse on the sofa for a long sleep as neither had been overly concerned with rest the previous night.

"How long do you think we have," Harry asked as he stretched out on his sofa, leaving room between himself and the back for Hermione.

She climbed over him, easing herself down beside him, moving her leg between his and laying her arm on his chest. "Maybe an hour," she answered. "I wouldn't put it past either Molly or Ginny to ward both our flats to alert them when we returned."

He yawned loudly. "That's true and Ginny's done it before, wouldn't take her much to do it again."

Hermione copied his yawn. "She's done it before?"

He nodded sleepily, tilting his head to rest his cheek on her brow. "A couple times, my own personal stalker it seems."

"Sometimes I think she's a little addled."

He chuckled softly. "Oh, she definitely is. You don't know the half of it."

She stretched against his side before settling in again. "Someday you'll to tell me about it."

"M'kay," he mumbled, already drifting off.

"Good idea." She yawned again. "Let's sleep until they get here. Best to be rested for the battle."

A short hour later, Harry awoke to the uncomfortable feel of something rather pointed and hard repeatedly poking his arm, something he'd not felt since he'd lived with four other boys in the Hogwarts' dorms but that he instinctively knew could be nothing but the tip of someone's wand. Without opening his eyes, he swatted at it in annoyance and tried to roll to his side, impeded by Hermione's body pressed tightly to his side. He tightened his arm around her and hid his face in her hair, content to ignore whoever had awoken him in preference for a few hours more sleep.

However, whoever had so rudely awoken him did not appreciate his need for rest and poked him again, harder this time. He lifted his head and scowled at the blurry figure before him.

"Ouch," he cried, rubbing at his chest where he'd been prodded. "D'you mind? That hurts, you know."

"Not nearly enough," a very familiar voice coldly replied.

Harry sighed in resignation, aware that there would be no way to avoid the confrontation soon to occur and reached out for the end table where Hermione had set his glasses. With his sight properly corrected, Harry looked up at the angry witch scowling at him and Hermione.

"Been talking to Ron, have you?"

Her smalls hands clenched at her side, her right around wrapped firmly around her wand, which she deliberately kept focused on the two on the sofa. "Even if he hadn't told what you did to him, seeing Hermione lying on top of you like that would've made things clear enough."

"Yes, well, if you'd learn to knock rather than just walking in to a person's flat without warning or asking," he replied snidely, "then you wouldn't have seen anything. Really, Ginny, we've talked about this before, I don't want you just making yourself at home in my flat whenever you feel like it."

"Now I see why," she snipped.

Their arguing was enough to stir Hermione from her sleep and she moved slowly against Harry's side, her hand on his chest clenching his shirt briefly before sliding down his chest and across to wrap around his side, holding him firmly against her. She turned her face into his shoulder as she stretched her body as best she could while pressed between him and the back of the sofa before lifting her head enough to look at him blearily.

"Harry," she said sleepily, "what is it?" Her hand moved from his side to tenderly touch his cheek, her fingers tracing the hard line of his mouth, her brows furrowing as she briefly studied him. "What are you angry about?"

He felt his expression soften as he looked at her and felt a brief pang of guilt for such a display of affection in front of Ginny, but decided she earned it if she refused to knock at the door and wait for him to allow her in like a regular person would.

"I received a rather rude wake up call, love. Seems it's time to pay for our sins and all that."

She frowned and turned her head to see Ginny standing over them, turning further she found Mrs. Weasley standing just beyond the arm of the sofa where Harry rested his head. "Oh judgement day already, is it? And I was rather enjoying my sleep."

Harry couldn't stop the grin that curved his mouth. "Yes, so was I, but it seems Ginny has other plans."

"Apparently," she replied and yawned widely. "Well, I suppose we better get up then."

She moved her hand to Harry's chest again and used him for leverage as she pushed herself up from the couch.

"You think this is funny? You've been cheating on my brother for months and you think it's all a big joke," Ginny demanded angrily, her face slowly turning a red that Hermione had never seen on the girl before.

Hermione turned her back to the couch and narrowed her eyes at the girl. "No, Ginny, I don't think it's funny. What I find amusing is why, exactly, you think it concerns you in anyway because the last I heard, you were not involved in my relationship with Ron nor were you involved with Harry. So, really, nothing that happened between the three of us had anything to do with you whatsoever."

"Nothing to do with me," Ginny repeated incredulously, her ire steadily rising.

"Yes, that's what I said," Hermione replied coolly, ignoring the calming hand that Harry placed on her shoulder. "And yet you seem to think that you have every right to barge into Harry's flat unannounced and uninvited, demand answers from us that you've no right to and, I'd wager, make us pay for what we did, though we did nothing to you."

"You betrayed all of us, Hermione," a soft but undeniably angry voice said from behind them, cutting Ginny off before she could argue for herself.

Harry and Hermione turned to find Mrs. Weasley standing several feet behind the sofa, her arms crossed over her chest and the angriest look either had ever seen on her face.

"You betrayed Ron in the worst way that you could and you seem to think that no one's going to anything about it. Do you really think you're above punishment, Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head slowly, but did not back down in the face of the woman's anger. "No, Mrs. Weasley, I don't think either Harry or I are above punishment, but that does not give you or Ginny the right to punish us. What happened between Ron and Harry and I involves only the three of us and Ron is the only one with any right to demand that we be punished for it."

Mrs. Weasley took a menacing step toward them and while Harry felt the urge to move away, to hide from her anger, Hermione showed no sign that she felt cowed and stood her ground.

"When Ron came home looking like his world had fallen apart and he had nothing left to live for, it became my right to see that whoever hurt him didn't get away with it."

Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably and reached for Hermione's hand to quiet her before she could argue again. "With all due respect, Mrs. Weasley, Ron is a grown man who can fight his own battles. He shouldn't need his mother to fight them for him. If he wants to say something to Hermione or me, he can say it himself."

Mrs. Weasley furious gaze found Harry quickly and held onto him, the look in her eyes twisting his heart. He never could have imagined that someone's anger could have the power to wound him so deeply, but then, he'd never felt a mother's anger before, not a mother that he thought of as his own.

"You're actions surprise me most of all, Harry. Ron thinks of you as a brother. How could you do something like this to him? Do you actually think that she is worth losing him over?" She gestured rudely to Hermione and spat the word 'she' as many now spoke the name Voldemort, like she was disgusting and vile.

Harry felt a fire rise in him as he saw the impact of Mrs.Weasley's words on Hermione. Hermione jerked like she'd been physically hit and tears immediately welled in her eyes. He heard Ginny snort behind him and mutter something about Hermione not being worth losing even Percy over.

Feeling pain and grief flowing off Hermione, Harry pulled her to him and held her tightly against his chest. "If you'd ever loved someone like I do Hermione, you wouldn't have to ask me that question, Mrs. Weasley. I'm sorry that Ron was hurt and I know that we went about things wrongly, but I cannot and will not ever regret being with her."

"Are you mad, Harry," Ginny demanded loudly. "You're going to let her ruin your friendship with Ron? Do you think he'll ever forgive you for this? Do you think I'll ever forgive it?"

Harry turned enough to glare at her. "I think I know Ron well enough to believe that he'll forgive us with time. As for you, we've done nothing to you that we should have to ask your forgiveness for."

Ginny narrowed her eyes and Harry could see her start to tremble with the force of her anger. "You've done nothing to me? Have you any idea how much it hurts to see you with her?" Like her mother, Ginny spoke of Hermione as though she was a lesser being.

"Don't talk about her like that," Harry growled. "Don't you dare treat her like she's not as good as you because she's a far better person than you could ever hope to be. You stand there, saying everything you can to hurt her, attacking her like she's your enemy and she's done nothing to you. You and I were not together, Ginny. She didn't steal me from you; she didn't stab you in the back. Regardless of what you may think, I am not and never was yours. So you can just shut your mouth and leave her alone."

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley snapped as Ginny jerked back roughly.

He barely heard Mrs. Weasley and did not care to see the look on Ginny's face as the feel of Hermione gratefully tightening her hold on him made him feel like he'd just saved the world again.

"I expected better of you, Harry Potter," Mrs. Weasley was saying condescendingly. "I thought you hadn't been affected by those horrible muggles that raised you, but now I see that you're more like them than I ever thought. No one else, no wizard that I know, could be so careless of his friends or betray the family that took him in like you've done. Everything we've done for you, Harry, everything I've done for you and you treat us like this? You're just like them."

Harry felt her words like blows to his chest, felt them beating at his will, at the door behind which he hidden the lost, helpless little boy that he'd once been. Her words struck at him, battering away at all the work he done with help from his friends and Hermione to move past what he'd suffered and to deal with it and put it behind him. Her words dredged it up again, piece by piece and he felt the Dursleys actions and words to him over again as though they were standing before him at that moment.

Before he felt her move, Hermione had pulled from his embrace and put herself firmly between him and Mrs. Weasley, her hands on her hips, her wand having appeared in her right hand, she faced off against the older woman ready to defend herself and Harry if necessary.

"Don't you ever speak to him like that again," Hermione ground out. "You've never met the Dursleys and you haven't the faintest idea of what they did to him. You couldn't possibly imagine what sort of people they are because you've never come across anyone who's nearly as cruel and hateful and abusive as them. Harry is nothing like them. They attacked him without provocation, treated him like he was nothing but an animal. If anyone here is anything at all like those vile people, then it is you, Mrs. Weasley, you and your manipulative daughter."

Both Weasley women gasped at her words and Mrs. Weasley seemed to cower before Hermione's unprecedented rage.

"You claim to love him, claim to treat him like he's your own son, yet you come here for the sole reason of attacking him when you hope he's least expecting it because you know that's when you'll be able to do the most damage," Hermione seethed, her teeth clenched and her muscles so tight that her entire body trembled steadily. "Harry's spent his whole life dealing with people like you, people who claim to want the best for him but jump at him the moment he feels even the slightest bit of happiness. You can't possibly love him like you claim if you can be so vindictive and hurtful the second he makes a mistake."

Mrs. Weasley sputtered for several moments before she managed to collect herself enough to speak. "How dare you talk to me like that? I will not-"

Hermione interrupted harshly. "I will speak to you anyway I choose. You are not my mother and you've just proven without a doubt that you do not deserve the slightest respect. I will not be cowed by you and I will not let you treat Harry as you are. And I will never again believe that you care for him like he's your own son because no mother would ever attack her child with the one bit of information that she knows is the most hurtful to him. You chose the one thing from Harry's life that you knew would hurt him the deepest and I will never forgive you for that."

Hermione felt someone grip her arm tightly and turned her head to find Ginny's furious countenance inches away. "Don't talk to my mother like that, you slag."

Hermione glared and violently shook of her grip. "Get out."

Ginny looked surprised, like she didn't understand what Hermione was saying. "What?"

"Get out," Hermione growled. "Both of you."

Ginny's hands moved to her hips. "You can't order us about like that. This isn't your flat," she said, sounding superior but childish.

Hermione smirked meanly. "It's Harry's flat and, as his fiancée, I can do whatever I like."

Ginny blanched. "Fiancée?"

"You can't marry her, Harry," Mrs. Weasley ordered. "I won't allow you to hurt Ron further. He's going to propose to her. That's the way it's meant to be."

Harry opened his mouth to tell her exactly what he thought of that plan, but Hermione beat him to it. He bit back his ire though he could feel it boiling stronger within him with every word that either Weasley spoke. They'd wronged Hermione many times before, it was time that she had the chance to tell them what she thought of them, his chance would come.

Hermione turned her glare to the older witch. "He can marry me and he will because that's the way it's meant to be. Everything went wrong a long time ago and it's finally back to the way it should be and I won't let it go back. You've no say in who either Harry or I marry and, frankly, I don't care if you had it all planned out as you wanted. I don't care if you always thought Harry would marry Ginny or I would marry Ron because that's just not going to happen. Not now, not ever. Now, unless you wish to congratulate us on our engagement, I want you to leave."

Mrs. Weasley's anger returned full force. "Now listen here, you little trollop, I won't be order about by-"

"Leave," came Harry's quiet yet forceful order. "You're no longer welcome in my home. I won't standby while you treat Hermione like she's less than you and I won't allow you to attack her like this."

"Harry," Ginny tried. "You can't be serious. You know that you don't actually want to marry her. I've been waiting on you since before the war, you were always planning to come back to me. We're going to get together again."

"No, Ginny," his stated firmly, leaving no room for argument. "I never planned on coming back to you or being with you again. I'm sorry you thought that, but it was never the plan. I always hoped to be with Hermione, that's what got me through the war. I survived so that I might have a chance with her someday, not so that I could be with you again."

He distanced himself emotionally as he spoke, cutting himself off from the overwhelming emotions radiating from the others, and so, when tears welled in Ginny's eyes, he felt nothing but a sense of satisfaction at finally having cleared the air.

"You can't mean that, Harry. You said - at Dumbledore's funeral, you said you'd come back for me."

He shook his head. "No, I didn't."

She reached out for him and he quickly stepped out of her reach. "Harry, please, you know this isn't how you want things to be. You don't want things to end between us."

"Things between us ended a long time ago, Ginny. There's nothing there anymore and there won't be again. I'm marrying Hermione."

Seeing that she wasn't making any progress with Harry, the young redhead turned her attention to Hermione, fixing her with a fierce glower. "You backstabbing, traitorous bitch," she bit out. "I thought you were my friend, I thought you were trying to help me. You gave me advice on how to make Harry notice me and for what? So you could go after him for yourself the minute he was away from me? Forget that you had your own bloody boyfriend, all you really cared about was trapping the Boy-Who-Lived."

Hermione shook her head sadly. "No, Ginny. I didn't go after the Boy-Who-Lived, I've never wanted the Boy-Who-Lived. I wanted Harry, I will always want just Harry and that's the difference between you and me. That's why my relationship with Harry will last and yours didn't because I've never seen him as a hero or a celebrity, someone to chase just because of his status. Harry's never been a trophy to me, but that's all he was to you."

Ginny scoffed, her face red with anger. "You have no idea how wrong you are. You don't know anything, you're nothing but a whore. A dirty, worthless whore."

"Get out," Harry ordered, his voice low and dangerous, his eyes sparking with electricity.

Ginny turned her shocked gaze to him. "What? You're kidding. You aren't actually choosing her over me?"

"Get out," he raged, magic bursting from him in his anger causing the fire to flare in the fireplace and the front door to bang open.

The Weasley women couldn't quite manage to hide their fear and, with final disdainful looks at the couple, gave in and left before they angered the young pair further. As the moved to the door, Hermione put a quelling hand on Harry's arm and moved to his side.

"If Ron has something he wants to say," Hermione called out, "tell him to come to us himself. We won't listen to you again."

Mrs. Weasley opened her mouth to remark but thought better of it in the face of Harry's anger. They were barely out the door when it slammed shut behind them.

Hermione turned to Harry and wrapped her arms tightly around him, pulling his head down to her shoulder; she immediately felt his tears wet her collar. The fire died down in the fireplace as Harry's anger abated.

"Shhh," she whispered soothingly. "Don't listen to a word they said, sweetheart. You are nothing like those retched muggles, you and I both know that. She was just trying to hurt you."

"She did a good job of it," he tried to joke.

Hermione pulled away and gently cupped his face in her hands. "You are without doubt the nicest, most caring, gentlest man that I have ever met. No one is less like the Dursleys than you. I know, Harry. I've met them and I know what they did to you, how they treated you and I am endlessly amazed at the man you've become in the face of all that. Who you are is no reflection of how they treated you, you are so much better than them."

He nodded his head absently, clearly not accepting what she was telling him and she knew she had a fair bit of work ahead of her to convince him once again that he was nothing like the Dursleys. She silently cursed Mrs. Weasley for even thinking such a thing let alone saying it to Harry.

She pulled him down for a brief and tender kiss and felt his need for her love and comfort. "I want you to forget what Ginny and Mrs. Weasley said, Harry. I know it won't be easy, but you have to remember that they're angry and they didn't mean what they were saying. You know how they get, you how irrational they can be."

He sniffled softly and tightened his arms around her. "I never knew what it was like to feel like I'd disappointed my mother. I never would have thought that it could hurt this much."

She ran her hand through his hair, using her other arm to hold him to her. "I have disappointed my mother several times, Harry, and she has never once attacked me the way Mrs. Weasley did you. That is not how a mother reacts and certainly not how a mother punishes her children. She was vindictive and cruel and you did not deserve the things either of them said to you."

"She's the only mother I've ever known, Hermione. I can't just forget what she said, how she acted."

Hermione appeared thoughtful for a moment. "I think it's time I introduced you to another mum. We'll go to my parents for dinner and we can kill two birds with one stone, so to speak."

Harry frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I have yet to tell my parents that Ron and I are no longer together and that you and I are now engaged. And you can see how parents really are because my parents would never treat either of us like the Weasleys did." She grinned happily and lightly poked his chest. "Besides, it's time my parents met their future son-in-law. They're going to love you and I'll be surprised if they don't insist that you call them mum and dad from the start."

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really?"

She nodded happily. "Dad's always wanted a son. He's going to drive you mad with all the things he'll want to do with you."

Harry smiled, getting into it and imagining what it might be like. "Like what?"

"Oh, he absolutely loves football, but Mum and I can't stand it. He'll make you go to every game all season if you'll let him."

Though the pain from Mrs. Weasley's words would remain for some time, Harry felt happiness grow within him as Hermione told him what it would be like to be part of her family.

"He'll sneak you away to the pub at the holidays so Mum can't guilt him into helping her cook. He'll joke with you about… well, whatever it is men joke about when their wives are listening. And he'll complain to you about how long it takes Mum and me to get ready to go out."

He pulled her to him for a tight hug. "It sounds perfect."

She pulled back to look at him. "And they'll never judge you or make you feel like you're not part of the family. They'll accept you and love you just because I do and that's all that will matter to them."

"I can't wait to meet them," he told her softly and lowered his head to kiss her.

After a moment of silence while they just enjoyed holding each other, Hermione spoke again. "And Ron will come around, he'll talk to us when he's ready. As for Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, it's for you to decide whether you want to forgive them and let things go back to the way they were."

He shook his head sadly. "I don't think things will ever be the way they were. I just can't picture a day that I won't be able to recall what they said to you or to me."

"Then that's their own fault, isn't it? They brought that on themselves and they'll just have to live with it."

"Yes, but so will I."

She brushed his hair back from her forehead. "I'm so angry with them for what they said to you, Harry. They had no right to react the way they did."

He smiled gently. "I'll be okay, Hermione."

"I know you will, but that doesn't mean that I'll ever forgive them, whether you do or not."

"I know," he sighed and touched his forehead to hers. "But let's not think about them any longer. I'd much rather meet your parents, maybe even celebrate our engagement now that we're home."

She grinned saucily. "If the celebration you have in mind is anything like the celebrating we did last night, then I say we forget about my parents for tonight and get straight to the festivities."

Harry laughed lightly and kissed her deeply. "Delayed gratification is so much better, love, all that build-up from just thinking about it makes it so much sweeter."

"Is that so?"

"Oh yes," he teased.

"Well then, we'll visit very very briefly with my parents before we beg off to celebrate. We can work on how long we delay our gratification another time. You have one hour with my parents and then we're coming back here and I don't care if I have to tell them that I want to shag you senseless if that's what it'll take to get you out of there."

He laughed again. "I think that if you told them that, they may never allow me to visit again."

"More time to gratify ourselves," she instantly replied, drawing a deep laugh from him.

"It's all about sex with you, isn't it?"

She leered at him, looking him over head to toe. "I don't think anyone could hold that against me, Harry."

He was unable to fight the blush that rose in his cheeks. "Hold yourself together there, Granger. We are going to your parents' house."

She sighed. "Fine, but you'll have to make it up to me."

His kiss took her by surprise and she moaned loudly as his tongue parted her lips to slip into her mouth.

"I promise," he replied when he pulled back, leaving her breathless and a little dazed. "Now let's go."

* * *

"I've been thinking," Harry said as he cleared his supper dishes from the table, setting them to wash themselves in the sink.

It had been several days since they'd had dinner with Hermione's parents; days that they'd spent moving Hermione's possessions into Harry's flat and hiding away from the world. While they hadn't heard again from the Weasleys and hadn't seen or heard from Ron at all, the press had been hounding them non-stop since they'd returned from Stratford and they'd finally had to resort to taking out a court order to keep them away from the house.

Hermione had been right, as usual; her parents had loved Harry instantly and had been overjoyed at their engagement announcement. Her father had pulled Harry aside the first chance he'd had and sat him down for a brief talk about Harry's intentions towards Hermione followed by a long discussion about Quidditch and football. Harry'd never felt more welcome and accepted in his life. He couldn't wait to become an official part of their family.

"That's never a good thing," Hermione teased.

Harry scowled playfully as he took her dishes from her. "Better watch what you say, my dear, I think you may just like what I've been thinking about."

She grinned and leaned back in her chair, watching him as he went about cleaning the kitchen. "Is that so? Well, don't keep me in suspense, Harry."

"Well, I've been thinking that it's been several days - almost a week - since I asked you to marry me and you so kindly agreed and we've yet to discuss the wedding. You did say that you didn't want to wait long, didn't you?"

"Yes," she agreed, "I did. We took so long to finally get things together and come to our senses, I don't fancy wasting any more time."

"Agreed. So, how about we finally set a date?"

She smiled widely, giddiness welling inside of her at the prospect of finally being with Harry. "Wonderful idea, honey. Do you have any period in mind? When are your holidays?"

He pulled his chair around the table to sit beside her and took her hand in his. "My holidays are anytime I want them. I talked to Shacklebolt, told him that we wanted to marry very soon, but I don't have holidays for another two months. He told me to let him know what date we chose and he'd arrange a week or two of vacation for me."

"Anytime we choose," Hermione questioned, surprised at Shacklebolt's generosity.

"Anytime at all," he assured. "You just have to choose when. So how long will it take us to get everything in order?"

She grinned again. "Us?"

Harry seemed taken aback. "Of course us. You didn't think I was going to leave all the planning up to you, did you? This is my wedding too, love, and I want to be involved in all of it, the planning and all. I'd never expect you to do it all, that's too much for one person."

She squeezed his hand and looked at him appreciatively. "I always think I know you, Harry, that you couldn't possibly surprise me, but you always do. You're so completely untypical that I simply can't get over it."

"Is that a bad thing? To not be typical?"

She kissed him lightly on the mouth. "Not at all. It's so refreshing. Most men wouldn't even think of taking part in planning their wedding. It's quite a relief to know that you want to be part of it, that I won't have to do it all."

He brushed his fingers over the palm of her hand, moving them to slip between hers. "I want to be part of it all, I want our wedding to be a compromise of the things we both want."

"Good. I'm glad."

He kissed her briefly. "Good. Now, when do we want to get married?"

She thought for a moment, going over the picture she'd had in her mind for years already. "I'd prefer a small ceremony, just family and our closest friends. I've never really liked big weddings. It should be private… intimate."

He smiled. "I agree, but, since the Weasleys aren't too happy with us at the moment, I don't think they'd… contribute to the happy celebrations too much, don't you think?"

She nodded dismally, knowing that if the Weasleys attended at all they'd likely just harass the couple and ruin the entire event.

"Right, so would it be okay with you if we only invited your parents and Remus and Tonks?"

"And Ron," she added.

Harry sighed. "He won't come."

She clasped both his hands tightly, gazing at him hopefully. "Maybe not, but we have to try, Harry. He's our best friend; I don't think it will feel right if he isn't there. It's our wedding, surely he'll put aside his feelings long enough for that."

He shook his head slowly. "I don't think he will. You know Ron, love, he likes to hold grudges. He's not going to forgive something like this so quickly."

"Harry," she began quietly.

He held up a hand to quiet her. "But," he paused for a moment. "But that doesn't mean we won't try. Of course we'll send him an invitation. We'll send as many as you want, but I don't think we should get our hopes up. I really don't think he'll come."

She tugged at his hands, pulling him into a tight hug. "Thank you, Harry."

He smoothed his hand over her hair, using his other to hold her tight. "Of course, Hermione. But please don't let your hopes get too high, I don't want to see you hurt."

As she pulled away, she pressed her lips to his cheek. "I know. Whether he's there or not, it's our day and I won't let anything ruin that."

He moved the backs of his fingers over her cheek in a familiar caress. "Good. Now how about a date? How long do we need?"

"Well," she began thoughtfully. "Not too long, I don't think. Neither of us are religious, so I'd prefer not to hold it in a church. I'd rather be married outdoors if we can. Oh," she cried excitedly. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could be married at Hogwarts? It's the most meaningful place in both our lives, it would be perfect."

He smiled, getting pulled in by her excitement. "It would be fantastic, but what about your parents? They can't even see it, how would they get there?"

She grinned in the way she always had when she had to remind him or Ron about something painfully clear. "They were at our graduation, sweetheart, we'll just have to make some arrangements with Professor McGonagall. I'm sure she'll be happy to do whatever's required."

He nodded. "I'm sure she will."

"Wonderful. Aside from that, I need a dress and you need a suit or robes, whichever you prefer."

"Definitely a suit. I've never really been fond of wizarding wear, it's not really me, you know?"

"I know and I agree. I was hoping you'd want a suit. You look so much better in a suit, so sexy."

He grinned wickedly. "Really?"

"Oh yes," she breathed, doing unmentionable things to Harry with those two simple words, so reminiscent of how she sounded in bed with him. She moved her hands over his chest, her eyes following their slow progression. "Suits fit your body so well, robes are just too lose. And you have such a nice body to show off, it'd be a shame to hide it under those robes."

He bit back a groan and moved his hands to cover hers, holding them to his chest. "Slow down, gorgeous, before I get carried away."

"I certainly wouldn't complain if you got carried away, it's been far too long since we had sex." She moved in to kiss his neck, gently sucking at the sensitive skin.

This time he couldn't stop the groan building in his chest. "Yes," he breathlessly replied, "a whole seven hours."

She pulled back to give him an incredulous look. "Are you complaining that I want you?"

His laugh was husky as he pulled her into his lap so she could feel exactly what she was doing to him. "I would never complain about that, I'm not mental. And I promise to get completely carried away just as soon as you pick a date for our wedding."

She ran her lips over his neck as she thought, mentally calculating how long it would take them to arrange things with the headmistress and to get their attire. "Two weeks," she finally answered.

It took him a moment to pull himself together enough to process what she'd said. "Two weeks?"

She sucked lightly at the tender spot just behind his left ear and felt his arms tighten around her in response. "Yes, two weeks. That should give us plenty of time to prepare."

"You're sure?" While she was distracted with her thoughts, he dove down to her neck, giving her the same treatment she'd dealt him.

She moaned softly. "Completely. We'll marry on July 3. It's perfect, school is finished for the summer, the castle will be empty, the weather will hopefully be warm and sunny and we can go wherever we like for our honeymoon because all the resorts will be open."

He grinned and kissed her lingeringly. "Brilliant. But I was thinking that we could go to the Potter Estate for our honeymoon. You've never been there, but I'm sure you'll love it. It's on several hundred acres of private land, there's a fairly large lake on the land and all but a small portion of land around the house is wooded. It's beautiful. And no one knows it even exists, so we don't have to worry about the press tracking us down."

"Sounds wonderful," she said, already anticipating hiding away with him.

"And we can buy a hammock on the way."

She laughed happily until he silenced her with a deep kiss.

"So it's set, we'll send out the invites tomorrow and shop around for our clothes."

"And that won't take long," she told him. "I just want a simple dress, something lovely, but not overly fancy."

He kissed her again. "Get whatever you want, Mione, money isn't ever going to be an issue for us."

She brushed her nose against his. "I know, but I still want something elegant but simple."

"Okay."

She grinned mischievously. "Now that we've got everything settled, I believe there was a promise of getting completely carried away."

He laughed quietly ad pulled her tightly against him again, kissing her lingeringly and passionately. "I think you're right."

"Of course I am," she said haughtily. "Now what are you going to do about it?"

Rather than answering her, he pulled her into a heated kiss and slowly stood from his chair, holding her securely in his arms as she wrapped her legs around his waist, losing herself in him as he carried her to their bedroom.

* * *

He stood on the porch for a moment, ignoring the rain pouring down on him, soaking him through. He stared at the numbers on the door, gathering his strength and preparing himself for what lay ahead. It did not promise to be easy, quite the opposite and even worse as apologizing had never been easy for him and begging was something he'd never done. But it would be worth it, if only he could get her back in his life in some context, any context, it would be worth it.

So, with that thought in his mind, he took the final step to the door and raised his hand to knock before he lost his nerve. He stepped back again and wiped the rain from his face. It seemed like eternity before she opened the door and he found himself checking all the windows, looking for any sign of movement and finding none. Finally, he heard the locks turn and his heart picked up tempo in response. As the door eased open, he glanced over his shoulder, looking down the walkway and mentally gauging how long it would take him to sprint down it and apparate away if things went badly.

He heard a gasp behind him and turned to see her standing in the doorway, lit from behind by the hallway light, a hand pressed to her mouth and her eyes wide with the surprise of finding him on her doorstep. He found himself unable to speak as he looked at her for the first time in a week.

"Ron," her voice was soft, without anger and for the first time all night, he felt hope that maybe everything wasn't lost afterall. "What… uh, what are you doing here? I didn't expect to see you… ever actually. The way you left things between us, I thought that was it."

His heart twisted in his chest and he asked himself for possibly the millionth time in the past week what he had done and what he had been thinking when he'd done it. He'd let his anger and jealousy overtake him again and this time it may well have cost him everything that really mattered in his life.

He opened his mouth to ask if he could come in out of the rain as he'd started shivering but wasn't sure if it was because of the rain or her presence, but instead of asking to get out of the rain or maybe saying something funny to lighten the mood, he found himself stumbling over words as he tried to apologize and beg her forgiveness at once.

"I-I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm so sorry. I've been the biggest idiot in all of England and I've spent months feeling sorry for myself and trying to stay mad at you when I had no right to be mad in the first place. I understand now. I do. I hated hearing it from Harry, hearing why you wouldn't marry me from someone who had no part in our relationship

"I've been so angry for so long and I tried to convince myself that I was angry with you and-and Harry because you went behind my back and I thought that you were just using me, that you were playing with me for some reason that I couldn't understand. But you have to know that I loved you, Hermione, I thought you were it for me and I thought you felt the same. It hurt so much to know that you'd been with Harry for so long behind my back and I reacted horribly. I've always had a horrible temper, always acted without thinking, you know that. I just couldn't help it, I couldn't stop myself. And I kept telling myself that I had every right to treat you like I did and that you couldn't possibly expect me to ever answer your owls or forgive you for what you and Harry did to me," he stopped and drew a deep, fortifying breath. He'd been looking everywhere but at her as he spoke, worried at what her expression might tell him and as he trailed off he finally turned his eyes to her and found her crying and watching him and, to his great relief, she didn't look the least bit angry or liked she'd like nothing more than to hex him.

"I was wrong," he said. "I should've let you guys say what you had to say. I shouldn't have blocked you out like I did. I came here to tell you that I'm sorry, Hermione. I'm sorry for what I said to you and for the way I acted and I'm sorry that I never gave you and Harry a chance to explain things to me. I know you tried to get my family to talk to me and you tried to send me owls and I ignored it all. And I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry I let this go on for so long when you two clearly wanted to work things though. I'm here to ask you to forgive me and ask if maybe you'll be my friend again." He moved towards her, so close he could reach out and touch her if he ever got the nerve. "Please, Hermione," he continued in a soft voice. "Please forgive me."

"Hermione," a voice called from inside the apartment. "Are you coming? The movie's all ready to go and the popcorn's getting cold."

Hermione glanced over her shoulder quickly before turning her attention back to the wet man on her doorstep.

Ron couldn't ignore the surprise or the wave of pain that rushed him. "You're still with him?"

Her brows furrowed. "Of course," she replied as though it were the only possible answer. "I love him and I intend to always be with him."

He nodded absently, looking down at his feet. "Right, of course. It's just… well I thought that maybe you'd break up with him."

She scowled at him and crossed her arms over her chest. "Why would I do that? Because you don't like us being together? That's a rather childish idea, Ron. I'm not going to change my life to make things more comfortable for you."

His eyes narrowed as he stared at her, looking like he wanted to be angry with her and argue, but he didn't. "No. No, of course not. I thought… but it was stupid."

"Yes, if you expected me to leave Harry because you don't like that I'm with him, then it was very stupid."

He sighed. "Look, Hermione, I came here to apologize and ask you to forgive me, not to argue with you on your doorstep."

She studied him with a calculating eye, weighing his sincerity.

"Hermione," Harry called again, "what are you doing?"

That seemed to make her decision for her and she stepped back from the door. "Come in, Ron. I imagine Harry would like to hear what you have to say as well."

His features hardened at the mention of the other man's name, but he entered the apartment nonetheless and only flinched slightly when she pulled her wand and waved it over him, instantly drying his clothes.

She observed him carefully as he toed off his filthy shoes and nervously patted down his hair. When he looked at her anxiously and opened his mouth to speak, she shook her head and moved towards the living room of her flat. As they neared the doorway, Ron could see the flickering light of the television that she'd always insisted on having as a connection to her muggle heritage though she rarely used it save to watch videos on stormy nights.

He fell behind as she entered the room, her eyes fixed on something out of his sight. He shifted uneasily on his feet, glancing over his shoulder to the door several times and continuously fighting the urge to flee before he had to face both his once best friends. He wondered again how he could have let this rift between him and his friends grow so wide and for so long. They'd once been so close and he'd let his anger and jealousy come between them again, how many times would it take before he finally learned that nothing was worth sacrificing their friendship over?

He listened as Hermione told Harry who had been at the door and winced when Harry demanded to know what he wanted, anger underlying his words. He tried not to hear their words as they talked in whispers, but the occasional word broke through to him and he could see them in his mind, Hermione no doubt touching Harry in some way, trying to calm him as she always did and Harry trying to hold onto his anger in the face of her care and tenderness and utterly failing, caving to her patience and kindness. He felt that old jealousy well within him again though he knew that he had no right to it, that, if he was honest with him himself, he knew he'd never had a right to because she was never his to feel jealous over.

When she returned to the doorway and beckoned him in, he hesitated a moment, wondering if it had been too long and too much for them to forgive him for.

Harry was standing behind the sofa and Ron found himself grateful for that barrier between them as he took in Harry's hostile stance, his legs set wide and arms crossed over his chest, a deep scowl on his face and his eyes alight as he held himself back. Harry's restraint was solely for Hermione's sake, Ron knew for there was no doubt that Harry knew everything he had said to her in his rage and Ron knew that Harry must have been struggling within to keep himself from beating Ron to a bloody, ragged pulp.

Hermione moved to sit on the sofa in front of Harry, leaning forward and resting her arms on her legs and she watched Ron expectantly, waiting for him to say what he'd come to say.

He shifted his weight nervously, digging his hands deep into his pockets, the entire speech that he'd had planned out gone from his memory. What do you say to friends that you hadn't spoken to in six months because you were to busy struggling to hang onto your anger and hurt to pull your head out of your arse and realise that, while, yes, they had been in the wrong, you were wrong as well.

The silence dragged on and the words were becoming steadily harder to grasp and the waves of anger coming from Harry weren't helping the situation at all.

Hermione finally broke the oppressing silence. "Ron, do you really want to do this?"

He looked at her in surprise. "Of course I want to. I wouldn't have come here otherwise."

She shrugged. "Well, you seem to be having a difficult time thinking of something to say and it seems to me that if this was something that you truly wanted to do, if you really wanted to try to fix things between us, then you would have come here prepared to at least say something."

He frowned at her. "I did have something to say, but it's not so easy now that I actually have to say it. And Harry standing there glaring at me isn't making it any easier," he snidely replied, gesturing roughly at Harry.

"Sniping at us isn't going to help your cause, Ron," Harry told him, his voice hard and unforgiving. "You've had six months to say something to us and we've given you plenty opportunity. We've sent you owls, told your mother and Ginny to tell you to come talk to us when they showed up at my flat to attack us, even been to your Quidditch matches and you've been too much of a git to even say hello. So don't try to put this on us because we've tried."

Ron looked away, his nervousness returning. "I know," he said softly. "You're right. I've had plenty of chances and I haven't taken a single one. But I'm here now."

Harry snorted. "Standing in our living room and doing nothing doesn't really count for much."

From the corner of his eye, Ron saw Hermione turn to scowl at Harry. "You're certainly not helping matters, Harry. We all had a hand in this problem, we should all help to fix it."

He looked down at her. "I don't know if it can be fixed, Mione. It's been six months."

She sighed and reached out a hand to touch his arm. "I know that, love. We can never go back, but we can try to make things better between us."

"He missed our wedding, Mione, because he was too bloody pigheaded to even open our letters."

Ron's head shot up, his eyes fixing on the couple before him. "Wedding? You-you're married?"

Hermione turned back to him. "Yes, Ron, for nearly six months now."

He calculated the time in his head and felt his anger flare again when he realized that they'd married shortly after their fallout. He opened his mouth to snap at them, make some snide comment about how she certainly hadn't waited long after breaking his heart to marry the first get that came along. He looked at them, the way Harry was still glowering at him and the somewhat hopeful look on Hermione's face and felt the emptiness inside of him that had been there since he'd walked out of her flat that day six months ago.

He shook his head, his gaze becoming unfocused as his attention turned to his thoughts. "I didn't know," he muttered absently.

His best friends had married and he'd had no idea. Had he really been such an idiot that he'd missed his best friends' wedding? Sorrow washed through him as he wondered what other life-changing and meaningful events he had missed in their lives because of his own stupidity.

"We tried to tell you, Ron," Hermione said. "We sent you several owls and more than one invitation. We even asked Remus and Tonks to tell you about it if they happened to see you, but they told us that you would just become angry and turn away whenever they mentioned us."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I can't believe I missed it. Someone should have made me listen, they should've made sure I knew about something like that."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "You're a grown man, Ron, you should've been mature enough to get past your anger rather than snap at everyone who ever mentioned our names. It's no one's responsibility to make you listen when you make it perfectly clear that you've no desire to hear what they have to say."

He moved jerkily as he started to pace their living room and ran a hand roughly through his hair. "Dammit, Hermione, I know that, but I missed your wedding."

"Don't you curse at her," Harry snapped loudly. "It's your own bloody fault, isn't it? You've no one to blame but yourself. You bloody well knew that we were engaged, did you not expect us to get married?"

Ron spun to face him. "I didn't expect you to be together to begin with, why would I expect you to marry her?"

"Because I asked her to marry me, you stupid prat," Harry replied hotly, his voice steadily rising. "What did you think that meant? Or did you just think we'd put our lives on hold until you pulled your fat head out of your bloody arse?"

"I didn't expect my best mates to get married without me," Ron shouted, his face quickly going red with anger.

"You made it perfectly clear before you left that we were no friends of yours and I certainly wasn't going to sit back and wait for you to come around."

"Of course not, you just couldn't wait to get her to yourself. Didn't even wait until I was out of the picture, did you? You're nothing but a-"

Hermione jumped up from the sofa and put an end to their arguing before Ron could tell Harry just what he was. "Enough," she cried. "That's enough." She turned on Ron, fire in her eyes. "You said that you came here to apologize, Ron, if that's not true, if you've no intention of trying to make things right, then just leave now because I will not stand here and listen to you two fight. Harry and I have put up with enough hostility from you and we're just not going to do it anymore." She paused briefly to calm herself. "We've tried, Ron, we've tried to apologize again and again and you refused to hear us. And now you're standing in our living room having told us that you want to apologize to us and we're willing to hear you, but all you seem to want to do is attack us again. If that's all you came here for, you can just leave."

He at least had the grace to look shamed. "You're right," he conceded. "I'm sorry."

"That's it," Harry demanded. "That's all you have to say? After everything you've put us through for the last six months do you really think that's enough?"

Ron frowned. "No, Harry, I don't think that's enough, but I don't know what else to say."

"How about you tell Hermione that you're sorry for calling her a slag? Tell her that you were a right bloody prick for treating her the way you did and that you had no right to ever say anything of the sort to her. Why don't you fucking beg her to forgive you for being such a pigheaded bastard?"

"Harry," Hermione began softly.

He looked to her. "No, Hermione," he said gently. "He owes you much more than that, but you'll never get it. The least he can do is apologize for what he called you."

She opened her mouth to speak, but Ron cut her off. "He's right, Hermione. I was a pigheaded bastard and I had no right to ever speak to you the way I did. Can you ever forgive me for it?"

She looked at him, surprised at his sincerity and his evident shame in his own behaviour. "Ron, all you ever had to do was apologize."

A tentative smile played around his mouth as he looked at her, incredulous in her ability to forgive him so easily. Looking at Harry it was clear that he wasn't the only one surprised at her quick forgiveness. Harry felt his gaze and turned his attention from his wife to his once friend and shook his head.

"It won't be nearly that easy with me. Hermione may forgive you and that's her decision, I won't interfere with it, but you're going to have to do more than apologize to get my forgiveness for what you did to her. You weren't here to see what she went through when you left. You don't know what you did to her, I do and I won't ever forgive you for that."

Hermione frowned at her husband and Ron nodded slowly. "I can understand that."

Harry finally seemed to relax. "Then I think maybe we can get past this."

Ron appeared surprised. "Really?"

Harry thought about it for a moment before answering. "Yeah, really."

They heard a quiet sniffle and looked over to see Hermione wiping tears from her cheeks, a small smile on her face. "Finally," she breathed.

Harry smiled and moved around the sofa to take her in his arms, holding her tightly and pressing a kiss to her forehead. As Ron watched them, he couldn't get over how right they looked together.

He cleared his throat lightly to gain their attention. "Would you tell me about your wedding?"

Hermione wiped at her tears and smiled brightly. "Of course, Ron. We've hundreds of photos of it if you'd like to see them."

Ron smiled tentatively. "I'd like that."

As Hermione pulled out several large photo albums, Ron caught Harry's eye. While he still didn't look overly welcoming or forgiving, his slight nod gave Ron hope. Hermione took Harry's hand and pulled him down to the sofa beside her and gestured for Ron to sit on her other side. He did gladly and focused on Hermione as she excitedly told him all the details of her and Harry's wedding.

* * *

Hey everyone,

I hope that you enjoyed this story and please review it.

This author's note is to let any of you who might be waiting for the promised sequel to Hardest Thing. I have begun to re-write the sequel and have decided to take it in a different direction all together. It looks promising so far, should be rather interesting for you to read. I'm working a lot of graveyards this month, so I'll have ample time to work on it. However, at the moment I'm suffering a bit of writer's block concerning it, which is probably due to the complete lack of sleep that I've been getting lately as well as the unbelievably hot weather that prevents me from sleeping when I get home in the mornings.

Anyway, I hope to start posting the sequel to Hardest Thing by August, but I can't make any promises because you just never know what life will bring. Fingers crossed that the writing goes well.

Thanks for reading and, again, please review.

Until next time,

Blissful