Disclaimers : Please see Chapter 1
A/N: Thanks again for all the encouragement, guys. Here's the third part. I still don't know how to fix the error on my formats so please bear with me. As for *that* scene last chapter, I swear that all is tied in when this is finished. Still will be short, though. 2 more chapters left and an rather short epilogue (as of now). Special thanks to The_Scribbler for being such a wonderful beta.
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Chapter 3 - Goodbye Again
Guess I don't know what's left to say
But hear me out
All of the dreams of, yesterday
Keep breaking me down
What's on the outside, can you say
Or am I getting carried away
It's in your mind
It's in your eyes
So it's goodbye again
It's way past time
For one last try
So it's goodbye again
Goodbye... again
….
You're falling out,
I'm falling in
So it's goodbye again
It's way past time
For one last try
So it's goodbye... again
So it's goodbye again
- Goodbye Again, Vertical Horizon
6th Aug 2005
It was a beautiful Saturday morning as Ronald Weasley walked among the repaired buildings in Diagon Alley, softly whistling to himself. It amazed him to think of how the Alley had managed to rebuild itself so quickly after You-Know-Who's defeat.
He shook his head. Voldemort, his name was Voldemort, he chastised himself. He looked around the Alley again and saw the flower shop that was his original destination.
He entered the shop as the bell chimed to signal a customer's arrival. He wondered at the array of flowers that adorned the little shop. He mentally grimaced, he can't imagine how a bloke was supposed to know which one to buy from all these?
"Hi, can I help you, sir?" A petite blonde came from the back of the shop, wearing a customary polite smile. He saw her eyes widen as she recognized who he was.
"Hi," He grinned. It did feel good to be recognized, even if the attention can be a bit too much at times. Harry, as expected, had suffered the brunt of it at first; but when details of their Horcrux quest suspiciously leaked out, the public happily latched on to their spanking new celebrities - namely Hermione and himself. It was a bit of an adjustment, but he quickly took to the adoration he regularly encountered. He never abused it, God help him from his mother and Hermione if he did. But he did enjoy the advantages it afforded him most of the time.
"Actually, yes, I do need help." He gestured to the amalgam of flowers behind him. "I need to buy some flowers for my girl. And I really need for it to make a statement." He smiled charmingly at the young girl.
The blonde blushed and at the same time struggled to maintain a somewhat professional demeanor which he found amusing.
"What is the occasion, if you don't mind me asking?"
Ron flushed. That was a question he did not need. He tried to think of what to answer. He decided maybe distraction might be better. "Er…Oh, pardon me, I forgot to ask for your name. I'm Ron Weasley." He extended his hand to her.
"My name's Abby." She had turned red as she shook his hand. "I know who you are."
Ron gave her another warm smile and she turned even redder. Then she seemed to compose herself.
"Um, what is the occasion you needed flowers for again?"
Ron inwardly sighed. It was just his luck that the day he decided to ask for help, he got the sane shop assistant. He shuffled his feet and averted his eyes. "Well, let's just say, I need the bouquet to help her remember how she loves me."
Abby's face broke into a wide, knowing smile. "You had a fight with Ms. Granger then?"
"Well, not exactly a fight. I...um,"
"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I really don't envy how your lives are being called news nowadays. Now let's see…" She disappeared among the throng of multi-colored petals. "I know just the thing for her!" She called from somewhere behind the plants. He could hear her bustling about.
She emerged with her hands full of some white, delicate looking blossoms along with a gaggle of exotic looking leaves. She went behind the counter and started arranging them into, what he could admit, a rather elegant looking bouquet. Instead of clear plastic, she chose a very thin pale blue gauze as the wrap and made the ribbon as small as possible. "Here you go."
The resulting product was beautiful. Ron took the bouquet and gazed at the exotic and fragile looking white flowers arranged around an embrace of thin gauzy looking leaves. "It's perfect!" He said happily. "You knew exactly what I needed."
Abby blushed again. "Oh it's nothing, really. Harry's always said that white orchids were Ms. Granger's favorite flowers. I just amped the arrangement a bit."
Ron's smile was wiped from his face. He gulped. "Harry, as in Harry Potter? He buys his flowers from you too?"
"Well, yes. We are the only magical flower shop in metro London. He comes in here from time to time to buy flowers. We usually deliver either to your mum or his girlfriend. But if it's for Ms. Granger, he always insists that it should be white orchids."
Ron's mood dampened. He nodded his assent. "Yeah, yeah it is her favorite."
He paid for the bouquet and left.
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Ron chose to apparate about 3 miles from their flat. He needed some time to think after what happened at the flower shop.
Since their explosive row three months ago, he had been living in the Burrow and let Hermione have the flat. He had gone back the day after they fought to get a few of his clothes. They didn't speak for about two weeks after and he only went back to get a few of his things at times he knew she was busy in her office.
But he never did bother to completely empty the flat of his belongings.
Somehow, it had become an unspoken fact that whenever they fought spectacularly, Hermione and him would break up. He'll move out for a couple of weeks taking everything he owned with him; but they wouldn't be able to cut each other out of their lives and he would always be back to snuggling in with her within a month or two.
Their last fight was the worst one they've had though. There was something so frighteningly different about what they had said to each other that night.
When she had asked him if he was happy, he looked her straight in the eyes prepared to say yes. But he felt like he just saw her for the first time once his eyes met hers. And he didn't see the attractive nineteen year old young woman in front of him then.
What he saw for a brief second was the bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl he met in his first year at Hogwarts. He saw that same girl as she looked at him in concern as he vomited slugs. The girl who had nagged him to death during exams, refusing to accept the mediocre efforts he gave his studies when she knew he could do better. The face of the girl he hurt every single time he became petty and mean because of his then unvoiced insecurities.
He saw his best friend for that one second. And he saw that his best friend was suffering and he had no idea how to help her. Emotional range of a teaspoon. That's the way she had once described him. Now it really gnawed at him.
He had blinked that image away at the time. He recognized the signs of another break up and he silently begged her to give him one more chance but she refused to hear his plea. His insecurities had risen along with his temper, and he left.
First he apparated to the front door of Harry's flat in North London. Seeing that Harry wasn't home, he did the only thing that came to him. He went for a walk in the park. It was the hardest thing he had ever done, to not rage at the world. He was feeling so lost that he could barely walk, because of the tears he was struggling to fight back. Finally though, the tears won and he sat on an old park bench and cried.
He was terrified of what it all meant and so he never did have the guts to empty the flat of what he owned, getting only what he needed to get by from day to day. He couldn't leave with everything he had. Not when he wasn't sure that he would -or could - come back.
They did see each other again after the fight. In fact, they had started to see each other fairly often again, falling back into their cycle of dating after each fight or break-up they go through. He just had lunch with her - owling ahead this time - three days ago. He was trying to win her back, albeit at a pace a lot slower than usual. There had been something missing though. An indefinable quality had permeated their dates.
For each and every time he saw Hermione again after their huge row, he couldn't shake that image of her he saw that night.
And each time that image permeated his psyche; calm would suffuse his being. And all he could think of was try to help her. He saw her pain clearly now and he knew she was having a very difficult time. He only wanted to help her for some reason, feeling no ulterior motives behind his actions.
He was still mulling over this as he reached the door of their flat. He knocked. "If that's you, Ron, you know how to get in yourself!" He heard her yell from inside.
Ron grinned. He checked that nobody can see him there in the hallway as he took out his wand. "Alohamora," he whispered.
He entered the flat only to stop at the sight of the almost empty living room. Empty of everything he had come to associate as hers, that is.
"Hermione?"
She came out of the mini-library wearing a tired smile. "You're right on time." Her left eyebrow rose as she saw the bouquet in his left hand.
"For you." He offered her the flowers.
She took the bouquet with a smile of appreciation. "Have you been taking tips from Harry?" She said teasingly.
"Oy!"
She laughed softly. She raised the blossoms to her face as if to smell them; instead she let the soft petals caress her cheek as a peaceful smile stole over her face.
"My mother always had white orchids in the house when I was growing up. She said they signified love, magnificence, and beauty. She wanted our home to always be abundant of those." Her mouth quirked up in a playful half-smile. "And many children."
Ron choked. "Eww, Hermione, parents having sex have never been good images to have in your head."
Hermione's eyes snapped open and she slapped his upper arm - hard. "Gross, Ron. I meant they wanted to have lots of kids. It just so happened there were complications. You are such a pervert." She rolled her eyes and went over to the couch, placing the bouquet gently on the side table.
Ron was rubbing his arm but he was laughing. "But you used to like it so much before." He pouted at her mockingly.
Hermione looked at him sternly but she couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled out of her throat. Bingo, exactly what he had been hoping for. He thought he can still count the times she had laughed since her mother died. Then, she pointed a finger at him warningly, "Don't you dare say anything like that ever again if you want to keep your ability to procreate."
Ron laughed out loud. "Only you, Hermione, would issue a threat to a man's bits using polysyllabic words."
She affronted a shocked look. "You know the meaning of polysyllabic?" She peered at him exaggeratedly. "Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?"
That cut off his laughter. He looked at her. She seemed to sense the change in mood and silently stared back at him.
Ron really looked at her. He took in the soft, curly brown ringlets haphazardly pulled into a ponytail. He saw her sharp cheekbones, her pink lips, and narrow nose. She really was very pretty. He stared at her eyes, those chocolate brown eyes that normally sparkled with life and thirst for learning. He frowned as he saw the dark smudges underneath that indicated she was still having trouble sleeping.
He raised his hand and affectionately stroked her cheek. She just stayed silent as she kept staring at him but her gaze softened. A rush of affection warmed his heart.
That's it, he realized.
He took in her whole face and felt only affection. "My best friend." He said softly.
Her eyes teared up. He gave her a soft smile then took one of her hands in his and squeezed. He released her and cleared his throat.
"So, what's all this then?" His hand motioned to mean the living room.
Hermione sighed as she gently bit her lower lip, clearly contemplating how to tell him something he can bet his new Firebolt he wouldn't like. "I'm leaving."
Ron raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I can see that."
"Remember the French guy Michael and I met for lunch? Y'know, that day we…"She broke off.
"I remember."
"Well, he took a liking to me. He's been courting me to transfer to the French MLE ever since. He sent me a very impressive promotion package and everything. I need a change, Ron."
He didn't say anything. Ron looked around the flat. Every single thing of hers was missing. He assumed it's all been neatly packed and labeled. He stood up and craned his neck to glance briefly at the open bedroom door. Yep, everything was packed and already sent away.
He sighed and faced her again, still sitting quietly on the couch. "When are you leaving?"
"In a week. And I accepted only three days ago."
He made his way back to her and knelt down so he can meet her eyes. He took her hands in his, oddly mirroring his position three months before.
"You can't run away from it, Hermione."
She looked up at him with panicked eyes. "I don't know what else to do. I need to get away, just for a while. Dad seems to be doing better, he's been out with friends."
"But Herm, you won't have us there. I don't like the idea of you going off to who knows where in France alone."
"It's only Paris."
Ron shrugged. "What's the difference?" He chuckled softly as she rolled her eyes. "Are you sure you know what you're getting into?"
"Not really. But I know I want to get away from England for a while. Not for long and I'll always come to visit. I just think I need this. So many things happened, Ron. I just need to step away from everything for a bit. I feel so overwhelmed."
He nodded and sighed. Then he sat beside her and took her in his arms. "I don't like the fact that I can't be there for you."
"You will be. And Harry also. You're all there for me."
He sighed.
Ron drew back and cupped her face in his hands and stared deep in the chocolate depths that he had lost himself in countless of times before.
"You will always be my first." His voiced cracked from the strength of emotion he was feeling.
A tear escaped her eyes. She brought up her hand to cover one of his. "I'm so sorry we couldn't be the last, Ron."
Ron brought his lips down to hers. It was a bittersweet kiss, befitting the farewell they were saying to each other. He shut his eyes at the barrage of emotion bombarding him and he couldn't help tearing up. He was waking up from the fairy tale of his childhood innocence to find that his princess was just like any other girl.
She can be hurt. And damn, can she hurt him too.
Hermione broke the kiss first. She smiled at him shakily as she wiped the tears from his cheeks. He never noticed them fall.
"This is goodbye, Ron." She said softly.
He nodded. "I couldn't stand hurting you anymore." He said while he caressed her face.
"And I, you."
"I didn't mean any of it."
"Neither did I, Ron."
"I did love you."
"Well, I still love you. It's just…"
"You're not in love with me." She gave him a bittersweet smile.
She took his hand and he felt the first stirrings of peace envelope him.
"You know, I think I was too wrapped up in my idea of you, of us, that I didn't see how awful we were being to each other." He gave her a nervous look. "Wait…that didn't come out right."
She grimaced. "Actually, I think you got it right this time."
"Imagine that." He chuckled.
Her brow wrinkled. "You know, I never did ask you what you've thought of our relationship. Or me. I just always assumed I knew what you were going to say." She said softly.
Ron was silent as he tried to compose his thoughts. She was right, she had never asked. And like her, he had always just assumed that she'll know what he would have said. After everything that had happened though, he wasn't so sure of that now.
"Well, I always had this version of you in my head. You were this brilliant - though a bit mental - girl that I had absolutely no trouble talking to. I've always found you pretty though it took me a bit to be mature about that part as I'm sure you can remember." She grinned.
"But you were always like my…I dunno…You were like my snitch."
Hermione's forehead furrowed at the comparison. Ron saw this and hastily explained. "Well, I've never felt that I was special. I had lots of older brothers who went ahead and did this or did that. I was the funny, likeable son, but never the extraordinary one. And you and Harry, you chose me as your best friend. Me, plain old Ronald Weasley. Harry's, well, Harry. And you. You were smart, and brave, and loyal. You weren't bad on the eyes either." He gave her a roguish grin. Then his demeanor turned serious.
"You've refused to accept me as ordinary from the very first day we met. Some might call it nagging. Well, I did too. But somehow, it had evolved into a challenge for me. You became my validation. Like if I did something that you found brilliant, than I must have done something really genius. And I knew, if I just worked hard at it, I really will become that extraordinary. You were like that special Golden Snitch. I thought, once I've proven myself to Hermione and we get together, I won't be plain Ronald Weasley anymore. Everything will fall into place. And I'll be the hero in the story and get my happily ever after."
"Oh, Ron." He shook his head at her, motioning that he wasn't finished.
"But when we were already together, the feeling didn't last. You became more and more elusive every day. It's like, I'm pushing my broom to the limit but I still can't catch up with you. I don't think I ever did." He admitted softly to her.
Hermione looked back at him with deep regret in her brown eyes. "I am so sorry, Ron. I didn't mean to make you feel so inadequate. I swear, I didn't see you as such."
Ron raised disbelieving eyes at her.
She gently took his hands in hers. "I think, we might be looking for different things. It was our first adult relationship, Ron. We had no idea what we wanted then and we both thought that what we wanted was each other. But we've changed, both of us. I think in the beginning, if I complained about something, you took that as a challenge to change. But that kind of pressure is draining. It's the same with me when I couldn't do something you wanted. I berated myself for expecting perfection from you since I was trying so hard to be your idea of a perfect girlfriend."
She gave his hand a squeeze. "But now, I think I wasn't really looking for perfection. I was looking for someone who understood me for me, and loved me despite my imperfections. I wanted the freedom to be imperfect. I don't have all the answers and I can't always save you. And you," She looked at him with such gentle warmth, his throat constricted with unshed tears. "You need to feel extraordinary not because of something you've achieved but because you are you."
"So this is it then?"
Hermione gave him a sweet smile. "But, you will always be my best friend."
"Well, Harry's mine so that might be a problem."
Hermione looked shocked at first. Then, she sputtered into laughter.
Bingo number 2, Ron thought, feeling a mite proud of himself.
"I will always love you, Hermione. I never meant to hurt you."
Her laughter died down and she threw herself into his arms, hugging him so tight he thought she'd never let go.
"I love you too, Ron. I'm sorry that it has come to this. Take care of yourself, and don't do anything stupid. You'll always be a joy to me."
He stood up and disapparated back to the Burrow.
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Alone under the moon, Ron contemplated what had happened.
He was sitting on a bench a few feet from the Burrow. He had thought to come to Harry's but at the last second changed his mind and went home. Harry was too involved in everything he was going through, and he needed a respite from the barrage of drama he'd had that night.
So now, he found himself alone hidden under the solitary moon. His arms felt horribly empty, missing such a vital part of himself. A part that he had left sitting back at the flat he no longer cared to call his own.
In a week, Hermione would be leaving. She would be gone, just like that. The pain of it struck him again but the tears did not come this time. In a week, he would be forced to consider a life he never gave a thought before. And he was scared shitless.
Bloody Gryffindor I am, afraid to be alone, he sighed grumpily to himself.
He was conflicted between feeling depressed at the chapter he closed in his life tonight and the promise of the unknown future before him.
Lost in thought, he jumped as he spied a figure in the shadows. He gripped his wand.
"Hello, Ronald." A dreamy voice greeted him.
Ron exhaled loudly. "Loon - Luna. Bloody hell, woman, didn't anyone tell you it's not polite to sneak up on people like that?"
Luna emerged into the moonlight. She looked puzzled by his question. "Well, not really. But then again, I've never asked."
Ron let out an involuntary chuckle, eager for company to rescue him from the swirling mass of emotion he was going through. "How've you been? I thought you and your father were out on a hunting expedition?"
"We had to cut it short. Father received a report on a Nargle infestation near here."
Ron tried to quell the amused smile that tugged at his lips. "Nargles?"
"You remember, I've told you guys to be wary of them. Father always said…" Luna's voice cut off as she took in her first good look at his face. "Are you alright, Ronald?" Her voice was suspiciously lacking its usual dreamy quality.
Ron shook his head. "Why don't you sit down and tell me about them Nargles?"
Luna smiled at him again as she made her way to the bench.
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