Life Begins at 40
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Part 2. A meeting with Ron
Harry sat at the usual table in the Leaky Cauldron with his back facing the crumbling, bare brick wall, staring across the room at the welcome flames in the fireplace opposite and, further over, just able to see down the small corridor that lead from this back room to the main entrance door that opened onto the street outside. The wood of the table top was marked with rings from countless glasses that had stood on it over the years and was cracked and pitted. The same furniture had been in the Leaky Cauldron for as long as Harry could remember and he always preferred to sit on the wooden bench seat behind the table rather than on the fairly rickety wooden chairs that stood on the other side. Two foaming glasses of butterbeer rested on cardboard coasters on the table in front of Harry. He listened to the gentle crackling of the burning logs and could just about hear the muffled voice of Tom the barman speaking to other patrons through in the main bar.
He was waiting for Ron Weasley. Harry and Ron met every Wednesday night in the Leaky Cauldron, if they were both in town. It was a ritual that they had observed since they both got married and it gave them a break from the confines of family life. It provided a chance to reminisce about old times and discuss their work and the latest Quidditch news. Harry thought that he couldn't survive without these regular bouts of male bonding and he was growing both frustrated and worried at Ron's lateness. Finally, Harry heard the door opening and felt a cold rush of air from the winter evening outside. He looked up with relief to see Ron's bright red hair appearing around the door, followed by his tall lanky frame, wrapped in a thick, dark overcoat and a woolen scarf patterned in hoops of green and gold, the colors of Ron's favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons.
"Ron, over here." Harry waved his arm, even though Ron had already glanced over at the table. "I've got you a butterbeer. Where have you been mate, you're late?"
Ron frowned. He looked flustered as he unwound his scarf and began to absentmindedly unbutton his overcoat. He didn't meet Harry's eye.
"Sorry, I got held up at work," he muttered. "Should have sent you a message really, but you know how it is."
"Yeah, I know how it is with you. You probably got engrossed and forgot the time. Still you're here now. What have you been up to?"
Ron threw his overcoat and scarf onto one chair and slumped down into the other, directly across from Harry. He gave a deep sigh, staring at the glass of butterbeer in front of him and then starting to nervously turn it in his long, freckled fingers.
"Oh, you know, the usual stuff. Work, taking the kids here and there, arguing with Hermione." Ron lapsed into silence, still staring hard at the table and Harry tried to think of something to say that would cheer up his friend. He was embarrassed by the thought of the problems that he knew Ron and Hermione were having, but as they were both his friends, he felt that he couldn't take sides. He deliberated about revealing to Ron that things were none too smooth between him and Ginny right now, but he wasn't sure how Ron would take this unwelcome news.
"Hermione and I are splitting up," Ron suddenly blurted out. "I thought that you should be the first to know, as you're partly responsible."
"What!" hissed Harry, making an effort not to attract the attention of the rest of the pub. "What have I got to do with it?"
"Well, you know I've never really stacked up against you as far as Hermione is concerned."
"No, you just think that you don't." Harry kept his tone hushed. "Hermione doesn't think like that."
"You should know. Let's face it, when we were at school you and her were always on the same wavelength. Most of the time I didn't have a clue what was going on. Hermione always agreed with you about everything and followed you around. I felt like a spare wheel. I was only really there to provide a bit of light relief." Ron sounded morose.
"It wasn't like that Ron, and you know it. We were all friends and I seem to remember you and Hermione spending as much time together as Hermione and I did. Anyway, Hermione loves you and you love her."
Ron sighed again and took a long sip of his drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he replaced the glass on the table. "Yeah, but when Hermione and I were together we were normally talking about you." He paused for a moment. "I suppose I thought that I loved her once, but I'm not really sure any more. I think it was just something that I reckoned I could finally beat you at. You know how ridiculously competitive I used to be. You probably don't remember this, but you know when I got that self help book from the twins after our sixth year at school and tried to be a bit more like you where Hermione was concerned. Well, I remember once, just before Bill and Fleur's wedding, the three of us, you, me and Hermione, were all sitting in my bedroom back at the Burrow and you said something that upset her. Of course, you apologised straight away, but I leapt up and shot across that room to comfort her before you could. I nearly ruptured something. That's what it was like; I can't believe that I was that stupid. So can you call that love? I'm just not sure. Let's face it, she and I never had much in common and we always squabbled over the stupidest things. If it hadn't been for you, we would probably never have been friends. One thing I am certain about though, Hermione never really loved me. Oh, she felt sorry for me; she always was a sucker for the under dog. But I think that I was just the consolation prize because you never showed any interest in her."
"Ron, what are you talking about mate? I told you a long time ago, there has never been anything like that between me and Hermione," Harry responded a note of panic in his voice.
"Sure, you've told me often enough. But Hermione never has though. She tries to reassure me, but she has never directly denied that she has always been in love with you. Anyway, we've both decided that we've had enough. We both want something better. It's quite amicable, you know. Well, as much as anything ever is between us. We're still friends and we'll share time with the kids, but it's definitely over. I feel relieved actually."
Harry was silent and it was now his turn to stare at the table. Eventually, he summoned up the courage to speak. "Does Ginny know?"
"No. I told you; you're the first. I mentioned to Hermione that I was going to tell you tonight and then I couldn't face it. That's why I was late." Ron paused. "By the way, guess who I bumped in to today," he volunteered, suddenly changing the subject. "Luna Lovegood. Haven't seen her for ages. She hasn't changed much. Still as dizzy as ever but she remembered me and she asked after you."
Harry was grateful for the change of topic but couldn't stop himself reflecting on what Ron had said. Why hadn't he taken more notice of what was going on between Ron and Hermione? Could he have done something about it? Ron was way off target, wasn't he? Hermione loved him like a brother, she always had. He wasn't really responsible for the troubles that Ron and Hermione seemed to have? That was the way that they had always behaved towards each other. He had thought that it was how they showed their mutual affection, even though he found it hard to understand.
"Ron, you know that I've never done anything to make her think…" he tailed off lamely.
"Oh, I know. Don't worry mate. I don't really blame you. I'm just letting off steam. I know that it's just how things are. Hermione and I need to move on." He hesitated. "I think that I might give Luna a call you know, see if she fancies going out to dinner some night. Anyway, enough of my problems. How's my sister?"
With that, the conversation moved on to safer ground but Harry just went through the motions for the rest of the evening. He couldn't stop dwelling on what Ron had said about Hermione. He knew it wasn't true, but it had unsettled him and he needed time alone to gather his thoughts and try to make sense of things.