The Trouble with Love Is

1. If Only Things Were That Simple

Standard disclaimers apply. I will never be JKR, though I wish I could be Jessica so I could knock some sense into her mummy's head. :)

"Harry? I was thinking about a few things last night about our relationship," a distracted Ginny Weasley said happily as she waved her wand. "It's been a long time since we actually 'went' out with other people for fun, so I was thinking about going to that new club with Neville and Ron Saturday. That okay with you? It would be a lot of fun." The laundry in front of her folded itself. Harry Potter sat on the love seat across from her, his ears blocking out every sound. "We really should do something with this place, too," she added, scrutinizing the place where the portrait of the late Mrs. Black once stood. "A lot of thinking would have to go into it, though." Noticing that Harry wasn't listening, she said softly, "Harry, earth to Harry?" The man in question looked at her with blank eyes. Ginny sighed.

Are you listening to me? I was saying how much renovation needs to be done with this place. Either that, or we could move into that empty cottage by Bills. He says if we wanted it, we could get it for the right price. You don't thinking about living in here-" she looked at him oddly, "forever, do you?" Clicking her tongue thrice, she levitated the clothes, then followed behind as she made her way up the stairs. Harry shook his head quickly.

Oh how often this conversation took place. Harry knew that Ginny was growing restless inside #12 Grimmauld Place and preferred to live in her own house. He could agree with her at some angles, but this place was at the perfect spot. It was convenient, being that close to the Ministry and Ron and Hermiones flat three blocks away. It was home for the time being.

For an hour, Harry helped her clean. No one had lived in the house since he, along with Ron and Hermione, used the place as their hiding spot two years ago. Doxies returned to the curtains, dust mites and bugs littered the corners of the house itself. The furniture was partially worn to the springs underneath, and it was, overall, almost a hovel in appearance.

After refinishing all of the cupboard doors in the kitchen, he glanced at the clock nearest to him. Just about six. Harry walked upstairs and into the room with their door ajar. It was the master bedroom of the house, originally belonging to late Mr and Mrs Black. An old, medieval style looking bed was in the center of the plush carpet. Rich green curtains fell from their hangings, covering the inside of the bed with precaution. Harry frowned. The curtains were not usually down like this unless they were asleep or hiding. He threw one aside.

Ginny, along with her wand and wash rag, laid peacefully atop the dark blue duvet. Her face was crashed into the expensive fabric adorning the ivory pillows. Their baby tabby kitten was curled up next to her. It was such a peaceful sight, one that Harry almost felt ashamed for intruding upon. Yet he couldn't help but feel slightly pained at seeing her fiery red hair mussed across the sheets. He slid the curtains back to their original place and out of the room he went.

Harry walked down to the kitchen, half expecting Kreacher to be making dinner for the three of them. But the dark room was empty. He quickly lit a few candles before turning his back at the sound of a coughing noise. Kreacher stood there complacently, a beautiful white owl resting on the elfs arm. Lunes, he realized, Hermiones owl. She flew at him, circling around him as Harry stepped forward to untie the scroll attached to her leg. Giving the elegant snowy owl a treat from the counter, Lunes flew off into the fireplace. Harry smiled. Unraveling it, he could see Hermiones handwriting flow across the parchment in iridescent red, while Kreacher sunk lazily into the shadows.

July 12, 2000

Harry,

Having the time of my life in Rome, as if you didn't know already. We're learning so much about the Roman history, and how magic greatly influenced everything that went around. But oh, Harry, I wish you two guys were here! Ginny too, of course. Venice would have to be my favorite, however. The architecture was just astounding. On another note, how's your Auror training going? It has to be ten times harder than my medical course work, but I know you can do it. You didn't take Voldemort down for nothing, did you?

I helped find a new cure today, Harry, it was so fantastic. This is the reason why I went into the medical field. The joy and satisfaction after finding something that will help millions of people is fulfilling. It's like drugs, only better. You can understand that, I'm sure. We went through lots of it over the years. But you are where you need to be- helping cleaning up the world of evil.

Have you seen Ron? He hasn't been answering any of my owls recently, or any of them, I'm afraid, so I was wondering if anything happened to him. George hasn't been too hard on him, has he? We can't forget the Canary Cream incident last winter. Or the time he nearly killed the cat. Anyway, I'll be home late Saturday evening. I can't wait to see you!

Love Always, Hermione

Harry stuck the letter inside his pocket with a smile. A trickle of warmth shot through him pleasantly. He, too, couldn't wait to see her. For the past year, Hermione had been studying abroad in Italy for some medical research program. They were having a secret welcome home party at the Burrow for her that night. With all of the things going on in his life, he hadn't written to her as much as he liked, but apparently more than Ron. He thought of this odd, as Ron was usually very clingy to Hermione. But a distraction from his train of thought arrived in his girlfriend coming down the stairs. Ginny took both of his hands tenderly.

"Hey," she said softly. "Should we start getting ready for the party? It's at seven, and you know Hermione's nothing but punctual." Ginny chuckled. "Anyhow, let's do this." Harry grasped her hand, and slung his other one around her waist.

"Yes, let's."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

By six thirty, everything was in full swing. Harry and Ginny showed up in good time, laughing together as they saw Ron streak across the yard with something resembling a rabbit on his head. Inside was even more of a laugh. Streamers in different colors were strung from one wall to the other, a banner screaming out, "Welcome home, Hermione!" when someone walked past them. Molly had everything from treacle tart to a large turkey sitting on the buffet table set up in the kitchen. Noise came from every corner.

Noticing George sitting on the arm of the couch, Ginny dragged Harry over to him. "Do you have anything to do with that thing sitting on Rons head?" she said with a twinkle in her eye. "Something like, I don't know, a rabbit?" George just nodded. Nothing special, no words, just a nod. It had been that way ever since Fred died. He was a half, no longer a whole. Harry knew what he felt like to a lesser degree.

"Harry!" Ron clamped a hand over his shoulder while balancing the large bunny rabbit hat on his head. "That wanker had it magically glued down," he explained at his best friends confused look. "Isn't it great that Hermione's coming home today, after being gone for a year? It'll be great to see her in the flesh." He wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

"Especially since you haven't written to her at all," Harry retorted quietly, wishing he hadn't said it the moment the phrase left his mouth. Ginny shot him a look, and Ron looked guilty.

"Yeah, well, things happen. I was on the road a lot with the team, and there's a lot of things we need to work out when she's back. I don't want to go into detail on my scandalous deed that she obviously sung to you in sonnets." Ron rolled his eyes and entered the mass of people moving their way. Ginny turned on him.

"Listen, Harry, don't. Ron's in an odd place right now, and I don't think he was comfortable about it. Talking to your lover over just letters for a year would be hard. And I know he didn't write to her, but come on, you know he did it to protect themselves from hurt. So drop it. You won't get anywhere." She removed her arm from his and went over to her mother. Molly Weasley looked at his fondly. He returned to smile.

"Wait, she's coming!" someone whisper-shouted. "Hide!" All of the lights were extinguished, everyone hiding behind some kind of furniture. Harry situated himself behind the rocking chair. His heart was beating wildly. This was Hermione, coming home after a long, well deserved break. The door creaked, forcing some moonlight into the darkened room.

He had to force back any sound that might have protruded from his mouth as Hermione flicked loose locks of brown away from her face. She almost looked like a new person that he didn't know- her face was full of mixed emotions, two he recognized as subtle anger and apprehension. Her hair was half up, but what surprised him the most was her posture. Slumped over, uncaring, and other things that were not the woman he knew and loved.

"Hello?" Hermione called softly. "Is anyone.. home?" Candles suddenly flickered, and everything rushed to life. "Welcome home, Hermione," they all chanted at once. At the sight of so many people she fumbled with her things and laughed.

"You didn't need to do this! You're going to make me cry." Harry stepped out from below the chair. Dark brown met green across the room, and all became quiet. It was as if all of them were spectators in an arena. Hermiones appearance did a complete back flip. She stood up straight, her eyes sparkling as she broke into a natural smile, dropped her bag, and ran at him. Harry almost lost his footing as she flung her arms around him happily. It was normal, not awkward in the slightest. He leaned into her. She breathed into his ear, "It's so great to see you again. I have so much to tell you."

"It's great to have you home." Harry looked over her shoulder to see Ron, Ginny, and Mrs Weasley peering suspiciously at him. The rest of the crowd was filling their plates. Feeling quite hot under their gazes, he broke himself away. Hermione then turned. Her expression seemed to harden when her eyes fell on Ron, but she walked toward him anyway. She put on a fake smile.

"Ron," Hermione said stiffly right in front of him. He looked at her, his smile dropping with each moment. Finally, Ron broke the tension by embracing her. Harry pulled Ginny over to him instinctively, who was peering at the sight.

"Don't do anything to set them off," he whispered into her ear. Ginny just smiled at him innocently. Harry tried very hard not to roll his eyes. Once a gossiper, always a gossiper.

"So, Hermione," the redhead began, twirling a curl around her finger, "how was Italy? Harry told me that you said the food was really great, and the program showed you a lot. But was there anyone special over the course of the year?" Her tone was almost mischievous. "Someone... someone like a guy? Maybe a guy you know incredibly well?" Harrys grip on her arm tightened that much more. Hermione looked at her strangely.

"Er, no," she said quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly. Ginny stared her down. "I mean, I'm not that kind of person, Ginny, if that's what you're saying," Hermione explained. Scarlet started to tinge her cheeks violently. "No one special in that way, but yes, I did make friends. I'll see them quite a bit as the program furthers back at home." Ginny was not fighting hard to hide her devious look.

"No, I wasn't implying that at all." It was clear to both Hermione and Ron that that was exactly what she was conveying. "Just wondering." Ginny wiped her hands on the periwinkle summer dress she wore. "Nothing but curiosity about what you were up to when you had some free time. You had to be doing something." Hermione put up a smile in attempt to keep her feelings in check. Harry, too, was curious on her odd behavior about this.

"Anyway, Ginny," Hermione said abruptly, turning the conversation on them, "how was your year? It was unf0rtunate that I was unable to see the playoff match, but I couldn't get the time off. I heard it on the Wireless, though." Ginny nodded, disregarding that fact that Hermione hated Quidditch.

"It was, very. I couldn't believe it that we only lost over a penalty shot. So, so disappointing." She shook her head sadly, the carefully combed strands of hair flying. "But we can only get better from that," Ginny added brightly. "But more about your time in Rome. Some of your newfound friends live around here, do they not? You should invite them over, and we could see what happens under the twilight." Harry could see the glint in Ginnys eyes. He knew she was not trying to be hurtful or intending to make Ron blush a deep color of red, but it'd gone a bit too far.

"Let them be," he hissed. Louder, he added, "Ginny, why don't we go get our food?" She looked about ready to argue with him, but she wiped the dark look off of her face immediately and replaced it with a fake grin.

"Of course, Harry," Ginny said sweetly. "And why don't we go sit in the garden?" Her sarcasm was not missed on him. Harry, dragging Ginny along, walked straight out the front door, leaving a very confused Ron and a seething Hermione behind them. When they were out of earshot of any nightly stragglers, she turned on him. "How dare you?" she asked. "You just made me look like a fool. And it's bloody freezing out here!"

"You were acting like one," he said tensely. At her mention of cold weather, he draped his dark coat over her shoulders. "What were you thinking, asking Hermione about romantic entanglements she might or might have had in her year in Rome, let alone with your brother standing right there? That was cruel, Ginny."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm just looking out for him!" Ginny shouted. She shrugged off the coat, letting it fall to the ground. "If Hermione was unfaithful, he deserves to know about it. She can't keep something like this bottled up, if you know what I mean. I told you about that drunken kiss between Neville and me last year, and well, you would do the same, right? I'm not trying to make her look like a fool, just giving her the chance to confess anything that might have happened in a calm fashion." She exhaled a long breath. Ginny stared at him, as if she was noticing something for the first time. Harry steeled himself for what could become of that. "I suppose I can't be mad at you for looking out for Hermione. But honestly Harry, never drag me around like that again. I'm not your slave." She gave him a scathing look before reentering the lively house. Her cloaks swished behind her.

Harry watched her, and when Ginny was out of sight, he kicked the ground angrily. This stage of their relationship was definitely not going as planned.

2. I Don't Love You Like I Did Yesterday

AN: Most of you probably won't like the end of this first segment (Ron and Hermione alone for the first time in a year), because something happens between the two. Nothing against the rules, but something that parallels my one certain scene is chapter 31, when house elves pop up. But never fear, it's just me trying to portray their relationship realistically and to show closure. It won't happen again, at least for them. As well, it stated previously in Hermiones letter that Harry was in Auror training, but I would like to change that for a few reasons. He is currently working with Kingsley in rebuilding the wizarding world. So that is his real occupation. *wink* Please read, rate, and review! And I beg of you, tell me if you find any errors (i.e. spelling, grammar, or glaring plotline mistakes).

The door to Ron Weasleys opened and slammed with a single purpose. After leaving the Burrow, Hermione was filled with many emotions regarding what she had to do. Ron was about to be on the ending part of all of that soon enough. At the noise, the man in question peeked his head over the wall to see who entered the foyer. Ron immediately backed away and into the other direction. He'd mysteriously left minutes before she did, undoubtably to hope that a fight did not occur. Boy was he wrong.

"You! I hope you have a good explanation for this," she said angrily. Ron cowered, his face turning red.

"Look, Hermione, I can explain..." She stared at him with astoundment.

"Explain what? How can I be gone for a year, twelve months! and go by without more than one letter from you? Yeah, you better explain that. I got letters from Harry, Neville, Luna, Ginny, even your parents more often than you. There was so much to be explained and discussed, but that wouldn't be interesting, would it? No, the epic Ron Weasley of Puddlemere United can't be bothered with things that matter to me, his girlfriend, while she's over in a different country, while we're at it." Ron looked pained.

"Like I said Hermione, I can explain everything," he tried to plead. "There's so much I wish I could change, and so much I wish I could have told you, but come on! Let me explain my side of the story." Hermione ignored him.

"Like I was saying before you interrupted me, Ronald Bilius Weasley, my life isn't important. You're just too busy shagging people and attending parties and such for his reputation. How many were there, Ron? Six, seven? They must have been involved in the elaborate game of keeping me out of the loop!" Ron glared at her.

"How dare you imply that I cheated on you once, let along several times, while you were away? God dammit, Hermione, you don't understand what it was like back here. You were traipsing off in Italy while the paparazzi was up our backs every turn we made, not just for the Quidditch aspect of my life, but because of defeating You-Know-Who, too-"

"You didn't defeat Voldemort!" Hermione screeched, Ron flinching at the name. She was just about as angry as she was the time she ordered canaries on him, if not ten times worse. "Harry did it, no thanks to you. You, after all, walked out on us during the middle of a hide-out, and nearly blew everything! Unless of course," she added, her tone quieter, but much more full of malice, "you happened to tell the Daily Prophet that without you, we'd still be living in a time of terror. Tell me, Ron, what was it like for you after you took all of the glory?"

The atmosphere was drastically changed. Ron and Hermione, less than two feet away from eachother, were both red in the face. Rons talking mirror in the corner said in it's stuffy voice, "Well, this is perfect for your relationship, isn't it? What's next, fighting over Viktor Krum and Miss Hermiones correspondence?" Damn that mirror and its ability to read situations and minds to a certain extent. The pair ignored it. Ron looked shocked and astonished, almost disbelieving. He muttered a string of curse words under his tongue.

"You really think that I'd do that, after what all of us have been through? I regret walking out on you two, Hermione, but you know what? I'm always going to have that thrown in my face. Like fifty years down the road, you'll tell my grandchildren that their grandfather walked out on his best mate and the love of his life, for lack of a better term. For your information, they knew exactly what our positions in the war were." He almost spat the word exactly at her. "Once upon a time, I thought that you trusted me with your life and that you would be the mother of my children in the future, as well as my wife. But I guess I was reading into that wrong, too. Seems like I've done that a lot lately." He just shook his head, his eyes half closed. "That's the beauty of it all," Ron muttered.

She cocked her head angrily, looking at him, her eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?" Hermiones voice was low. "Since when does that have anything to do with what we're fighting about? You selfish, egotistical jerk! What am I to you- the eventual perfect little trophy wife to bring to all of your premieres? I am a normal person, Ronald Weasley, one with scruples, one with ambitions, one that can actually make a difference in the world." She was about to add 'unlike you,' but refrained from doing so. It seemed that Ron understood what she meant regardless.

"It's relevant to everything," Ron growled, grabbing her shoulders tightly. She winced at the slight, dull pain. "It always has. Remember our sixth year, when you were so jealous of Lavender and me? I still have the scars. Remember our first kiss in the middle of the battle? I still harbor the jealousy that the first things on your mind for weeks was Harry and his problems, even after he got back together with my sister. What was I to you, and what am I to you now? What is Harry to you? I need to know, because I love you more than ever, and I need to know if it's foolish of me to think that you love me back."

Hermione faltered. "I don't know what you mean," she stammered, her heart beating wildly. Was he telling her to choose between him and Harry? "It doesn't matter what I feel for Harry, anyway, because he's with Ginny now, and I'm with you. I love you more than you know, more than I show," she said sadly. "Please don't do this." Ron rendered her silent as she gazed into his dark blue eyes. They were full of a mixture of hurt and confusion.

"What you feel for him? Is that a confession? Because it sure as hell feels like one." He eyed her. "What was I supposed to do, Hermione?" he asked bitterly. They were back onto the issue of the letters, or lack of. "You chose him years ago, and I can't-" he ran his hands through his hair biting his lip, "I can't keep pretending anymore. God, I was almost happy when you left. It gave me a chance to realize that I can't be second, not to the one I want to be with and be happy. I grew up like that. And you... it would never work, because you're always off saving Harry from himself, or trying to fix him in some way, or making him happy when my sister can't keep up with the drama. You'll always be first to him, because you were there and Ginny wasn't. And he'll always be first to you. We can't keep fooling ourselves anymore. So why would I write to you about how I was doing, if it only led to this?"

Hermione felt as though Ron punched her in the stomach. She didn't imagine how he collected these thoughts, and how he gained the confidence to say insistently how true they were. It was true, Harry was a touchy subject for her, one she never dwelled on. But that was what studying abroad changed in her.

He just laughed derisively. "You look like you don't know what I'm talking about," Ron said. She could almost hear a bit of pity in his tone. "This, Hermione, what we have, it isn't a real relationship. What you have with Harry, that is. You choose him. It's always been that way, it always will be, and don't try to hide it!" He was not even a foot away from her, they'd inched closer. Hermione flinched at his loud tone. "I can't deny that I'm in love you, but bloody hell, this is wrong. We've chosen different paths. It's over. So frickin over." He looked like he was about to continue when Hermione impulsively stepped up and kissed him.

They leaned into eachother for support, her hands on his chest and his in her hair. Hermione felt as though she was oblivious to everything around her, as always, and she welcomed it. He was a sense of comfort and warmth, something familiar from her past. Rons left hand wrapped around her waist gently as she swayed in place, spinning them in circles. Their hold on eachother was tight. She reveled in the familiarity of things. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck tenderly, turning her torso into him. She felt as though she were flying. His hands were wiggling back into her hair like worms. They battled the battle of love when it ended. The cruel, harsh, unfair world had taken its rightful place in their lives, and everything from the previous times returned. Giving her a sad look, Ron broke away and apparated out of the building, not giving Hermione to chance to explain herself.

Hermione choked back the tears that were threatening to come afloat and bit her lip. She fought back the urge to find him. She knew this would happen eventually. Ron had always been jealous, but why now? She understood him, though, what he said was partially true. Ron did not deserve to be loved half way while the other half was devoted to a love unable to explain. They were just Harry and Hermione. Two parts of one whole. Where did Ron and Hermione fit into it? But their relationship was real, what just happened showed it. That was where his logic failed. There was passion, and heat, and yet... Hermione used the wall she leaned against as her guide, shrinking to the floor. She knew there was something missing, but just didn't know what. The mirror called to her:

"Go after him."

"What if I don't want to go after him?" Hermione heard herself retort.

"Go to Harry, then. Stop being so stubborn, woman. I'm just a mirror!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The events following the party was making #12 Grimmauld Place an awkward place to live, at the very least. Harry felt as though Ginny was avoiding him, however right she was. On the Sunday after, Harry woke up with no one beside him.

Hermione was now a regular tenant of the building, considering Ron was the owner of their once shared flat. Her breakfast skills were now being put to work. As Harry clambered down the stairs and entered the kitchen, he welcomed the smell of freshly cooked bacon and scrambled eggs. The woman in question stood over the stove like a parenthesis with her hair up in a messy bun, her clothes wrinkled from hours of sleep.

"Are you planning on saying good morning to me?" he said in a teasing tone from the doorway. She spun around anxiously, as if someone was stalking her. Hermione put on a good natured expression and chuckled. "Because you know," he continued dramatically, "I'm just standing here all alone, with no one to comfort me as once again, my girlfriend leaves at the crack of dawn." Hermione frowned.

"Does anyone really know where Ginny goes when she leaves?" she asked suspiciously. Harry shrugged before sitting down at the table.

"The Burrow, probably, or some early practice," he told Hermione. "George said that she was also spending time at the shoppe, helping him with sales and such." Hermione took this in and returned to the stove to pour everything onto their plates. "Accio plate," he mumbled, bringing the stacked toast and eggs to him. He also said, "Accio Hermione." Hermione shrieked as she flew across the kitchen to him. "Sit down and eat," he told her. "Usually, you cook for the both of us, than skip out on it because you aren't to work early enough. So you are going to eat everything on that plate."

"But-" Hermione began to complain, but Harry looked at her and said, "you will thank me." He then patted her on the shoulder and looked at his watch. "Boy, look at the time. I better get to the Ministry before Kingsley puts me on the chopping block." Harry chuckled. "I'll see you later, Hermione. And if Kreacher tells me you didn't finish every single thing you put together, there will be punishment." Hermione giggled.

"Have fun at the Ministry today, Harry," she said as a goodbye. "I might just go to work now so I can see what kind of punishment you will bring me. Don't let Kingsley work you too hard," she also warned. "I don't want you in St. Mungos any time soon. I might just have to treat you in the most painful and time consuming ways as possible." Hermione gave him a teasing smile, then kissed him on the cheek, holding her hands to his face. "See you when I get home, okay? We should do something tonight."

"Definitely," Harry agreed. "Bye, Hermione, until tonight. "He separated himself from her gently and apparated to work happier than he'd been in days.

3. It'll Be All Right.... Eventually

AN: This was probably the most fun chapter to write, especially this second part- Ron and Hermione meeting again for the first time after. Yes, the Ron/Hermione kiss got backlash, like I expected, but do not fear. Harmony is the word. Please read, rate, and review!

Oh, and the idea of a 'club' and three rules does not belong to me, but Shonda, because she is so much smarter than me. Grey's fans will understand.

The sounds of light music and glasses clinking was heard around the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione made her way to the bar anxiously, wondering when Ron was to show. Instead of going back to Grimmauld Place after work, she sent an owl to her former boyfriend in attempts to work things out. He agreed to meet her that night, so here she was.

"Hermione." She looked around, looking for a body to match that sickeningly familiar voice, one that made her stomach grow knots. And not the pleasant ones, mind you. Ron ambled over and sat next to her. "Nothing for tonight, Tom," he added tiredly, as the barman came up to them. "Not yet, anyway."

"Ron," she pleaded, "please. We can't keep avoiding the topic at hand. We were friend for years, we fought, and found a way to still be friends after it all. And lovers, at that!" She smacked her hand down on the table demandingly. "Are you willing to throw away nine years of friendship because of yet another fight? That would be doing a disgrace to ourselves, not to mention your sister and Harry."

The redheaded man looked down at the grimy wooden bar which his elbows sat upon, refusing to glance up at her. "It wasn't just a fight, Hermione," he said finally. "It was the fight. It's all figured out, and I really don't think there's really anything to say to you." Rons tone started to become angry. "You think that after nine years I wouldn't notice? Really, Hermione? Huh. The smartest witch of the age thinks that she can stand by while her boyfriend knows nothing about her feelings. What world do we live in?"

"The same one we've been living in for almost a decade!" Hermione wanted to shout, but refrained from doing so. She didn't want another all out brawl like last time. "One that you apparently think you know everything about me," she said quietly. Ron looked stung.

"I don't know everything about you?"

"No, you don't, Ron," Hermione said, her face melancholy. "Like you said, we can't keep pretending anymore, so why not address every single problem our relationship has? First of all, I don't see you half the time during Quidditch season, we don't ever discuss anything important, and I almost feel like a stranger to you. And that's not because of my year abroad," she snapped, noticing that Ron was about to interject his own thoughts. "We were drifting apart before then. Why do you think the last time she slept together was the night you told me you loved me? That was eighteen months ago.

"We're not the same people we were at seventeen and eighteen years old," she concluded. "Okay, so it's now your turn to speak." Ron looked surprised. Hermione insisted, exasperated, "Well, if you expect to repair what was broken, we have to take turns. I'm done, now it's your turn."

"I've said all I need to say. In the flat, remember?" he said coldly. "You chose me over Harry because my sister already had him within her clutches, and I was the only thing left for you. How's that for fixing what was broken? Hey, Tom, I'd really like a firewhisky right about now," he called, but Hermione shook the bartender off with a shake of her head.

"Honestly Ron, you are so dim," she hissed under the noise of the twilight music. People around had begun to stare. "How could you have so many insecurities that makes you believe that Harry was my first choice?" Upon coming into the pub, Hermione came to terms that what she discovered about herself and everyone else would have to stay hidden for the time being, however much it hurt to stifle. "Harry's fanciable, he's got the appeal, he's a wonderful, caring, and sensitive human being that I love to death, but I've never thought about him in that way."

Ron gulped loudly before grabbing her hand impulsively. "I don't know," he admitted. "But, I do have something to tell you that might give you a clue. You remember the night I came back two years ago, when we found Gryffindors sword?" Hermione nodded, but was growing angry. What did this have to do with anything? "Harry had to open it with parseltongue, and he wanted me to stab it. I was all for it, until...." he trailed off. "Until Riddle's soul managed to eat at my fears," he mumbled. "Do you know what that was?"

"No," Hermione said honestly. He took a deep breath.

"It was you and Harry together," he told her, his eyes averting her face. "You two were oddly distorted, like blow up dolls, almost and evil. The worst things you never think to tell me came from them. He had you guys hug and kiss right there. Harry was telling me to get rid of it the whole time, but I couldn't listen. My biggest fear was losing something else to him," he admitted, "even though we were still the best of friends. So when you kissed me right after we came out of the Chamber of Secrets, it was almost like a victory over him. It sounds horrible, I know, but I thought it." Her heart went out to him. Hermione grabbed his other hand sadly.

"Really, Ron," she whispered, "I am so sorry you had to go through with that. Having so many siblings is a horrid disadvantage for your ego, isn't it?" She embraced him friendly-like, knowing that it would take so much more than a few confessions to gain what they'd lost. Ron pulled away after a moment.

"Your turn," he said. "Anything, say anything that I don't know about you."

Hermione hesitated. "My boggart is you and Harry," she blurted out, "or last time I checked." Ron almost looked amused.

"Me? What's so scary about poor little ol' me and the wizard who defeated You Know Who?" Ron batted his eyelashes at her, making her laugh. "I mean, we aren't that bad."

"Not you guys exactly, but you guys leaving me. Either that, or you two are dead," she said dryly. "What's yours?" Ron turned bright red. He hid his face inside his arms.

"Spiders," he mumbled, "just like you should know from Defense years ago. Now, what are the names of your parents?"

"Rebecca and Robert Granger," Hermione recited instantly. "I have a strained relationship with them, but I love them very much. They also know just about everything about Harry and you, it's so sad. They've asked me to bring both of you guys over before the war started up again, but then, they just figured it was better to stay away. They wish I would have stayed away, too." She shrugged. The subject of her parents was touchy, too, considering they didn't approve of magic.

They went on for this for about an hour, slinging questions back and forth at eachother, when the lights dimmed and the music abruptly changed genres. A though that generated in her mind for the past few days was almost complete. "I have an idea," she said suddenly. Ron looked at her oddly. "One that will fix our relationship," she clarified. "This was nice, I will admit, and little fighting was involved, too, but there's issues with trust and commitment that we need to work out.

"Okay, the is my proposition," she murmured continually. "A proposition that starts from the bottom- the very bottom. We start building up our relationship block by block, as if we were building a house out of bricks. I introduce myself, you do the same, we talk, and do things you normally do to get to know someone. We should most definitely be civil to eachother, no irrelevant bickering. I hate that, I'm telling you that now, how you can turn anything into an argument. Stop that, that's rule number one. Rule number two, nothing romantic." Rons looked at her, gaping. Hermione felt a sense of pride within herself.

"Not until we reach the top of the pyramid," she said loftily.

"Wait, I thought we were building a house," Ron interjected. Hermione sighed.

"It's an expression, Ron, seriously. We will become better friends because of it. Rule number two: no romantic innuendo, no hand holding, certain kinds of hugs, kisses except ones on the cheek, and definitely no sex." Ron pouted. "Stop acting like a dog." she said. "Go find another partner to practice on. We will go out to the clubs sometimes, as an outing, not a date, most likely with Harry and Ginny. Oh, and no flowers, no chocolates, no gifts except on holidays like Christmas and birthdays ." Hermione was most definitely enjoying herself here, in her element of making up rules.

"When does rules number two lift?" Ron asked, grinning, still holding her hands.

"When I see fit," Hermione replied, letting go and smacking them both. "When I deem fit, rule number two will be abolished, and we will be able to pursue romantic things. But until then..... we're just friends. And the final rule: I will live with you as always, but at no point will you be crawling inside my bed, watching me dress or undress, or think about doing anything inside of my bedroom." She tapped the bar with her fingertips impatiently, waiting for Ron to reply to this final one. She only feared what his comment would be.

"But what if I'm cold at night?" he asked cockily. Hermione glared at him.

"Breaking rules one, two and three. Anyhow, onto the introduction part." She stuck out her hand. "I'm Hermione Granger." Looking suspicious at the gesture, he eyed her hand before complying.

"I'm Ron Weasley, keeping for Puddlemere United. Would you like me to buy you a drink, Hermione?" Hermione stifled a laugh.

"Why yes, Mr. Weasley," she said jokingly, "I would like a drink. But why don't I buy the first round." She then called, "Hey Tom, send some of that special wine down our way!" She was not much of a drinker, but she figured this was a special occasion.

"I really do need that drink," Ron said, massaging his temple. "... hey, Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry about not writing to you the past year."

"I know." Tom set the bottle and two cups before them. Hermione poured it into the glasses, then lifted hers halfway in the air. "To our newfound friendship," she announced. Ron said hoarsely, "To our newfound friendship." They clinked glasses before drowning the entire thing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was thoroughly surprising to see Ginny coming for dinner. She came home with her hair flying everywhere, clothes wrinkled, and a letter in her hand. When Harry asked her about it, Ginny only said, "I'll tell you later," then stalked away to their bedroom. She joined him for delicious stew, courtesy of Kreacher, down in the drafty kitchen.

She was silent until Harry finally got sick of it all halfway through desert. He was not going to jeopardize his relationship just because Ginny was being petty. After a deep breath, he said quietly, "Ginny, listen to me." The redheaded woman looked up at him. "I don't get why your mad at me, considering I saved you from looking like a fool, but it's obvious I overstepped the line with you. But why are you acting like this?" Ginny did not respond. He was about to give up hope when the melodic sound of her voice filled the air nearest him, not seeming to puncture inside.

"You had no right to pull me away from the situation at all, Harry," she began, "but I can also understand that you were just looking out for your best friends. You three have such a powerful relationship, especially with Hermione, and I just have to accept it. You're just... Harry and Hermione. Incredibly cliche, I know, but it is what it is. I was too dim to realize." Ginny toyed with the edges of her napkin. "So I'm sorry." Harry gave her a slight smile.

But somehow, it was not such a great a feeling as he thought. He then remembered something key. "Hermione moved in here," he blurted out, "after her huge fight with Ron. Which she still won't tell me about." Ginny frowned. "But I think she'll be moving back in with Ron," he concluded. "They went out hours ago."

"You had no thought to tell me this before?" she asked, slipping back into her previous demeanor.

"You weren't home!"

"With good reason," Ginny shot back.

Harry sighed. "Listen, Ginny, Hermione was only a temporary tenant of this building. She had nowhere else to go."

"What about her parents?" Clearly, the redheaded girl was trying to find a hole.

"You know how strained her relationship with her parents is," he said wearily, rubbing his temple. Robert and Rebecca Granger were not the most friendly people he'd met down in Australia. When Hermione removed their fake memories and alias, they were very quick to judge her choices in the matter. When they caught sight of him, well, let's just say that Harry and Hermione slept in a hotel for three months before coaxing them back to London.

Ginny finally cracked. "I don't like that you don't tell me everything," she said with a pout, "but I suppose you're right. I should imagine that by tomorrow morning, Ron and Hermione will be as right as rain. With that all straightened out, I am retiring to bed." She came over and gave him a kiss before stumbling up the staircase. He sat there for a moment in attempt to collect his thoughts when the door bell rang.

Harry headed for it in confusion. Who would be coming over this late? But when he looked through the peephole, he groaned. A drunken figure wobbled in front of him as the door opened.

"Hermione, why did you get so drunk?"

Hermione whistled. "Ronnie dropped me off here, we were so happy, wine......" She fell into his arms with a moan. "Pyramids, houses, rules," Hermione mumbled as she became semi asleep. Harry laid her on the couch beside him. It was going to be a long, long night.