United We Stand | H/G H/R | Rated PG-13
Author's note: In summer last year, my big sis, oncelikeshari went a little bit insane and decided to write a fic based solely on prompts given to her by her readers and churn out a chapter a day (except where she went away to V Festival, which is a fair enough excuse). In the end it was a 75 chapter fic and was bloody marvelous. Being a Harry/Ron fic and me, being a die hard Hermione and Hermione/Ron fan, I loved that she kept Hermione in the fic in quite a big way, but also made her very angry when Ron broke up with her. AT some point I've always wanted to do a Hermione POV of Ron breaking up with her to be with Harry, and Shari let me play with her Hermione from Unity in the Community. So here it is, my versionn of what Hermione was thinking and feeling throughout about half of the wonderful fic by oncelikeshari a.k.a solstice-muse.
Title: United We Stand
Pairings: Beginnings of Hermione/George, Ron/Harry, mentions of past Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG-13
Words: 3,211
Warnings: Absolute shedload of Angst
2nd Author's Note: This has not been beta'd so apologies for any mistakes. I think my tense go weird at some point, I tried to fix, but then my head went fuzzy. Pointers always welcome. Or a beta! :D
United We Stand
...
I had gone from utter elation to the depths of confusion and despair in the time it took Ronald Weasley to say five words. Apparently we could no longer be together, but I was still waiting for the why.
At first there was just denial and me believing I could talk him round with words and reasoning. I'd be able to reassure him that whatever insecurities he had were exaggerations of thoughts he had that originated from his lack of belief in himself.
Because what he just said couldn't be true. Of course we could be together. It was everything I ever wanted, ever needed. Some small part of me wished that wasn't true, wished that I didn't feel I needed someone else to make me happy throughout my life, but I think it's true. I knew Ron would make me happy, even through the bad times that there were bound to be.
Well, apparently not now, according to the man himself.
My face pulled into a smirk and the words 'don't be so ridiculous', were on my lips, but I didn't say them. Something stopped me from talking.
There was that look in his eye. Not one of insecurity or confusion but one of determination to see something through, whatever the consequences.
It was then that the fear and pain ran through me. I went cold with dread. This really was the end. The end of something that never really got started. The end of something that I had planned out so meticulously in my head. There was supposed to be laughter, exploration, learning, comfort and a wonderful journey together, wherever it took us. There would be a wedding and children and then we would grow old together. A cliché? Of course, but still everything that I wanted. I had planned a life that revolved around Ronald Weasley, but he had just removed himself from the centre of it.
The centre of my world had just disappeared.
Tears burned my eyes and I saw him set his jaw in that way that he did when he knew he was in for a rough time.
I think that more than anything set off the anger inside me. He knew me inside out, more than he would ever admit. He had more than likely gone through my probable behaviour in his head and tried to come up with ways to calm me down.
Well, he wasn't getting away with breaking up with me that easily. I'd make him feel some of the pain I was feeling.
I'd never slapped anyone so hard in my life.
…
I had continued to be angry for longer than I had ever been or had ever imagined myself to be, but it was the only thing that stopped me bursting into tears every few minutes. If I concentrated on being angry, then I had no time for my insecurities to overwhelm me, or no time to miss his presence in everything I was doing.
Not that I was particularly enjoying what I was doing. After returning from Australia people had immediately come out of the woodwork yet again, trying to wheedle details and information out of me on our year from hell and how it all really ended. I was officially invited to the Ministry twice and it was as I was leaving the second time that a comment from someone I didn't really know, sent me into panic and then more anger. I saw red.
I shouldn't have found out that the love of my life was missing, from a Ministry employee who presumed I'd be out looking for him with the rest of the search party.
I walked away from her without saying a word and rushed back upstairs to demand to be told everything that was going on with Ron and, most importantly, where Harry Potter was at that exact moment.
As I learned all I needed to know about the 'missing Community Auror' I wanted to strangle Harry Potter there and then. There was nothing that could comfort me. He had kept all this from me. How could he?
It was a good thing for Harry that my hand was still hurting me from the last time I punched him.
…
I was not coping well.
I didn't care that they were obviously in love and needed each other to function properly, and I hated them both for being such idiots.
Except that I did and I didn't.
For the occasional three seconds that I would forget he had broken my heart and left it in pieces on the floor, I would look at the both of them and see that their eyes sparkled when they were talking, and that they obviously adored each other. And then I would remember I was still in love with him and I became bitter again.
Not only was I seeing this and trying to ignore the anger that was still inside me, and still concerning me, I now had to cope with the fact that Ron may never be able to touch me again.
Regardless of the bullying throughout school, I had always managed to stay proud of my blood status. At that point in time, I hated it. What I wouldn't have given to be a pure blood and be able to hold him, rock him and comfort him as he cried.
Granted, I could touch his hand without causing him searing pain, but what if it got worse? What if this had been a brief respite in his condition?
My time for kissing Ron Weasley passionately had passed. But what if I could never kiss him again in any way?
If my heart was broken before, those pieces just shattered into millions of pieces.
…
As it happened I could comfort him as he cried, but I had to be so careful as to where my tears landed on him.
For a second I had thought twice about comforting him, and I wish I could say it was because I was concerned about the physical contact, but it wasn't. However, after a couple of seconds of him clinging onto me as if his life depended on it, I made my decision. I had to be bigger than my demons for Ron's sake.
He believed he had deserved what was happening to him, that it was karma coming back to, well, to put it in a very Ron way, bite him on the arse. But that was ridiculous, I just had to tell him that and make him believe that this had nothing to do with what had happened recently.
And then he said the words that both broke me and made me stronger.
You’re the whole left side of me Hermione, you complete me and make me whole and I lean on you for support when I’m flailing around with my right hand like a twat!
Somehow I managed to not fall apart right there and then, I had already decided that I had to be as unselfish as possible, however much I wanted to rant and rave and have everyone fawn over me and tell me how they were sorry for me and they couldn't believe what had happened. I hated that a part of me wanted that, granted it wasn't a very large part at all, but still, it was there. So instead of trying to find hidden meanings in that statement that he really did want me instead of Harry, I just carried on the conversation as normal as possible.
Because, really, there were no lines to read between with Ron, and I don't mean that in a derogatory way to him - a sentence like that could only come from someone who is intelligent. What I mean is, there were no hidden meanings because he had told me exactly what he meant, he needed me to understand, that he needed me, just not in the way I needed him.
And that was that. It was the end of all … that. It was unhealthy for Ron and me.
You can’t wipe away my tears anymore...and not just because of that vile potion.
We fell asleep together, and I didn't wake until Arthur walked into the bathroom the next morning. I carefully woke Ron and he went back to his bed, but I went down stairs. George followed me into the kitchen and made me a mug of hot chocolate.
'You look like you could use it,' he said with a grin, before realising what he had said. 'Er…I mean…'
I smiled. 'George, it's fine. You're right, I do need it, last night was…'
George sat down and waited for me to finish my sentence.
'Draining.'
'I'm…' George looked unsure whether to talk or not, he came to the decision to carry on. 'I'm sorry, Hermione.'
I took a sip of my drink.
'What are you sorry for?'
'You've…you've lost someone you love but you're still there for them at every turn. It can't be easy… and… I'm sorry.'
'It's not for you to be sorry, George. Not that-' she took a deep breath and sat up straighter in her seat. 'There's no need for blame in this. You can't blame someone for how they feel, it's not Ron's fault, he didn't mean to hurt me, I just fell in love someone who didn't love me in the same way.'
'He does love you, though,' George said quietly.
'I know he does. I just have to learn to love him in the same way.'
George nodded and I managed a smile. He leaned over and patted my hand awkwardly.
'It gets easier, you know. Very slowly, but it does get easier. Apparently one day it stops hurting all together.'
A frown crossed his face and he pulled his hand back across the table.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and stared into my half full mug of hot chocolate.
I reached across the table and felt him tentatively return the squeeze I gave his hand.
'Let's hope that day isn't too far away then.'
…
I hadn't meant for it to slip out, but it had just fallen out my mouth when I was concentrating on something else. I hadn't had time to think about the verbal slip, I had other things to worry about - fooling my parents to believe me and Ron were still together for one - but now that had just about been pulled off without a hitch, I had chance to think about it.
Was I with George? It was a simple enough question, but had the most complicated answer in the world. Not even a month's worth of studying would get to an easy answer to this particular question.
It was just a huge mess really. I knew part of me was still in love with Ron, but part of me was starting to be happy that he was with Harry. I liked spending time with George, but was I just trying to find a replacement for the person who I presumed was going to be with me for the rest of my days?
I had hardly had time to think about it when George had arrived at the flat. I should have realised this was going to happen, it was his flat after all and he had told me to wait upstairs while he dealt with an awkward customer in the shop.
'Knut for your thoughts,' he said with a smile as he walked into the kitchen.
I smiled and was glad when he smiled properly in return.
'Well, at least you're smiling, means you can't have been thinking about anything too bad.'
'Nothing too horrific, no.'
'What's on your mind? Not that you have to tell me, you know the rule, I'm here if you want to talk, but I'll never ask.'
I smiled and folded my arms on the table.
'Um…well…actually I…I was thinking about you.'
'Me? Should I be concerned?'
I chuckled. 'No, not at all, it's just me trying to get things straight in my head.'
George folded his arms like I had done and stared at the table.
'You're wondering what, if anything, is going on between us and whether you can trust your feelings because of…everything that's been going on.'
I didn't mean for my mouth to drop open, but no one had ever taken words directly out of my mouth before. It was both wonderful and very unnerving.
'I…well…' I sighed and put my brain into the talking coherently gear. 'How did you know?'
George smirked a little and looked at me.
'Well, firstly, I'm obviously a genius!'
I smiled and nodded in agreement.
'Secondly, you wear your heart on your sleeve when you're most vulnerable, however much you try not too.'
Again I nodded, but my smile slipped.
'And thirdly, I know because I've been thinking the same. I've been trying to work out what I feel, and I think I've done that, but, more importantly, I've been trying to work out what you're feeling and thinking.'
'If you could let me know, I'd be very grateful!'
My smile was fake and George knew it. He didn't smile but he continued to look at me. He unfolded his arms and managed to free my hand from between my arm and my body. Not that it took much persuasion. I needed some sort of comfort.
'Well, I could tell you what I think, but surely you need to tell yourself what you think, even if it means admitting you don't know everything!'
My smile was real this time but it soon faded. I took a deep breath and looked at him.
'I…I like spending time with you, George, I really do. You're kind and you care about me. You let me cry on your shoulder and you make me laugh when I need it. In fact I…I think I miss you when I don't see you from one day to the next. I don't think it's…I don't think…okay, this isn't going to make sense but I'll say it anyway. Sometimes I think it's just like missing a friend, but other times I think it's more than that. Sorry, I'm not being very coherent.'
'Did I say you had to be coherent? Working things out means you shouldn't be coherent at all! Say anything you need to, regardless of whether you think it makes sense.'
'See! You say things like that and it's exactly what I need! I need someone to tell me to do things how I need to do them as opposed to what I think I should do. You understand me, George, and I really like that. I really like you.'
I stopped to take breath, a little embarrassed by what I had just said. My hands were sweating but George didn't lessen his grip on my hand.
'There's a part of me, that wants to take the step that takes things further with you, but I don't know…'
I stopped, I really didn't know what I was thinking when it came to the possibility of becoming romantically involved with George. I pulled my hand away from him.
'Can I tell you what I think?' George asked quietly.
I nodded.
'I think…you're still in love with my brother, I think you're determined to try and move on from being in love with my brother, I think you like me enough to maybe want to take things further, but you're also scared stiff that you're doing it for all the wrong reasons. It scares you that you can't determine whether you're doing it for the wrong reasons or not and you don't know if there will ever be a right time to start getting into anything more involved than friendship. And I think you're worried about what people will think if they see us together in any capacity. As much as you hate it, you care about what people think.'
Tears had started to fall down my cheek. It was horrifying to have someone lay out all my insecurities in front on me, but I knew deep down that I needed it. I put my head in my hands and started to cry. I heard the chair scrape along the floor and then his hands were on me, encouraging me to stand up. I obeyed and fell into him. He gathered me up and hugged me as I cried, as he had more times than I'd like to admit.
He shushed me and told me it was all right.
We stayed standing and he started whispering into my ear.
'I know you're scared, confused and hurting, but so am I. As far as I can see, there's nothing wrong with us being all those things and more together. You don't have to worry about not knowing what you need or want, I understand that you don't know, just like I understand that that's driving you mad in itself.'
I managed a soft chuckle in between my tears.
'You don't have to know everything, Hermione, and it's not a failure in either not knowing or admitting you don't know.'
'Doesn't…doesn't mean I…I have to like it!'
George chuckled. 'No, you don't, that's fine. You're allowed not to like admitting not knowing something.'
I pulled back and wiped my cheeks with my hands. We stood in silence for a minute, occasionally meeting each other's eye.
'Um…' I began without thinking about how I was going to finish that sentence. 'So…er…'
I stopped and rolled my eyes at myself.
'Does that half-arsed attempt at a sentence have an end, or even a beginning or a middle?' George asked with a grin.
'Possibly,' I replied.
'Oh, okay, I'll wait for it then.'
I gathered my thoughts and tried again.
'Thank you, for…well, understanding and knowing. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, George, and I'd never intend to do that. But I just don't know at the minute if I'll end up doing it without realising it. This whole situation is just strange and weird and I don't-'
He kissed me, which very effectively shut me up.
It was over before it had really sunk in as to what had happened.
'You were thinking too much, I had to stop you before your head exploded.'
'George, I-'
'No, I don't know if that means anything, it could be a taste of things to come, or it could just be a friend trying to help out another friend. We don't and can't know, Hermione, but I refuse to live my life without risk or living as if I'm wrapped in cotton wool. Life's too short. I'm reminded of that every day and I don't ever intend to forget it.
'I know that you'd never knowingly hurt me, but lets not limit what we do just because of a maybe, okay?'
I had started to cry again, but I nodded my head and managed a smile. I stepped into him and wrapped my arms around his waist. I felt him stroke my back and my hair and I sighed. One of my many worries seemed to lift off my shoulders, and I felt that it might, eventually, all be okay.
Title: United We Stand
Pairings: Beginnings of Hermione/George, Ron/Harry, mentions of past Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG-13
Words: 3,211
Warnings: Absolute shedload of Angst
2nd Author's Note: This has not been beta'd so apologies for any mistakes. I think my tense go weird at some point, I tried to fix, but then my head went fuzzy. Pointers always welcome. Or a beta! :D
United We Stand
...
I had gone from utter elation to the depths of confusion and despair in the time it took Ronald Weasley to say five words. Apparently we could no longer be together, but I was still waiting for the why.
At first there was just denial and me believing I could talk him round with words and reasoning. I'd be able to reassure him that whatever insecurities he had were exaggerations of thoughts he had that originated from his lack of belief in himself.
Because what he just said couldn't be true. Of course we could be together. It was everything I ever wanted, ever needed. Some small part of me wished that wasn't true, wished that I didn't feel I needed someone else to make me happy throughout my life, but I think it's true. I knew Ron would make me happy, even through the bad times that there were bound to be.
Well, apparently not now, according to the man himself.
My face pulled into a smirk and the words 'don't be so ridiculous', were on my lips, but I didn't say them. Something stopped me from talking.
There was that look in his eye. Not one of insecurity or confusion but one of determination to see something through, whatever the consequences.
It was then that the fear and pain ran through me. I went cold with dread. This really was the end. The end of something that never really got started. The end of something that I had planned out so meticulously in my head. There was supposed to be laughter, exploration, learning, comfort and a wonderful journey together, wherever it took us. There would be a wedding and children and then we would grow old together. A cliché? Of course, but still everything that I wanted. I had planned a life that revolved around Ronald Weasley, but he had just removed himself from the centre of it.
The centre of my world had just disappeared.
Tears burned my eyes and I saw him set his jaw in that way that he did when he knew he was in for a rough time.
I think that more than anything set off the anger inside me. He knew me inside out, more than he would ever admit. He had more than likely gone through my probable behaviour in his head and tried to come up with ways to calm me down.
Well, he wasn't getting away with breaking up with me that easily. I'd make him feel some of the pain I was feeling.
I'd never slapped anyone so hard in my life.
…
I had continued to be angry for longer than I had ever been or had ever imagined myself to be, but it was the only thing that stopped me bursting into tears every few minutes. If I concentrated on being angry, then I had no time for my insecurities to overwhelm me, or no time to miss his presence in everything I was doing.
Not that I was particularly enjoying what I was doing. After returning from Australia people had immediately come out of the woodwork yet again, trying to wheedle details and information out of me on our year from hell and how it all really ended. I was officially invited to the Ministry twice and it was as I was leaving the second time that a comment from someone I didn't really know, sent me into panic and then more anger. I saw red.
I shouldn't have found out that the love of my life was missing, from a Ministry employee who presumed I'd be out looking for him with the rest of the search party.
I walked away from her without saying a word and rushed back upstairs to demand to be told everything that was going on with Ron and, most importantly, where Harry Potter was at that exact moment.
As I learned all I needed to know about the 'missing Community Auror' I wanted to strangle Harry Potter there and then. There was nothing that could comfort me. He had kept all this from me. How could he?
It was a good thing for Harry that my hand was still hurting me from the last time I punched him.
…
I was not coping well.
I didn't care that they were obviously in love and needed each other to function properly, and I hated them both for being such idiots.
Except that I did and I didn't.
For the occasional three seconds that I would forget he had broken my heart and left it in pieces on the floor, I would look at the both of them and see that their eyes sparkled when they were talking, and that they obviously adored each other. And then I would remember I was still in love with him and I became bitter again.
Not only was I seeing this and trying to ignore the anger that was still inside me, and still concerning me, I now had to cope with the fact that Ron may never be able to touch me again.
Regardless of the bullying throughout school, I had always managed to stay proud of my blood status. At that point in time, I hated it. What I wouldn't have given to be a pure blood and be able to hold him, rock him and comfort him as he cried.
Granted, I could touch his hand without causing him searing pain, but what if it got worse? What if this had been a brief respite in his condition?
My time for kissing Ron Weasley passionately had passed. But what if I could never kiss him again in any way?
If my heart was broken before, those pieces just shattered into millions of pieces.
…
As it happened I could comfort him as he cried, but I had to be so careful as to where my tears landed on him.
For a second I had thought twice about comforting him, and I wish I could say it was because I was concerned about the physical contact, but it wasn't. However, after a couple of seconds of him clinging onto me as if his life depended on it, I made my decision. I had to be bigger than my demons for Ron's sake.
He believed he had deserved what was happening to him, that it was karma coming back to, well, to put it in a very Ron way, bite him on the arse. But that was ridiculous, I just had to tell him that and make him believe that this had nothing to do with what had happened recently.
And then he said the words that both broke me and made me stronger.
You’re the whole left side of me Hermione, you complete me and make me whole and I lean on you for support when I’m flailing around with my right hand like a twat!
Somehow I managed to not fall apart right there and then, I had already decided that I had to be as unselfish as possible, however much I wanted to rant and rave and have everyone fawn over me and tell me how they were sorry for me and they couldn't believe what had happened. I hated that a part of me wanted that, granted it wasn't a very large part at all, but still, it was there. So instead of trying to find hidden meanings in that statement that he really did want me instead of Harry, I just carried on the conversation as normal as possible.
Because, really, there were no lines to read between with Ron, and I don't mean that in a derogatory way to him - a sentence like that could only come from someone who is intelligent. What I mean is, there were no hidden meanings because he had told me exactly what he meant, he needed me to understand, that he needed me, just not in the way I needed him.
And that was that. It was the end of all … that. It was unhealthy for Ron and me.
You can’t wipe away my tears anymore...and not just because of that vile potion.
We fell asleep together, and I didn't wake until Arthur walked into the bathroom the next morning. I carefully woke Ron and he went back to his bed, but I went down stairs. George followed me into the kitchen and made me a mug of hot chocolate.
'You look like you could use it,' he said with a grin, before realising what he had said. 'Er…I mean…'
I smiled. 'George, it's fine. You're right, I do need it, last night was…'
George sat down and waited for me to finish my sentence.
'Draining.'
'I'm…' George looked unsure whether to talk or not, he came to the decision to carry on. 'I'm sorry, Hermione.'
I took a sip of my drink.
'What are you sorry for?'
'You've…you've lost someone you love but you're still there for them at every turn. It can't be easy… and… I'm sorry.'
'It's not for you to be sorry, George. Not that-' she took a deep breath and sat up straighter in her seat. 'There's no need for blame in this. You can't blame someone for how they feel, it's not Ron's fault, he didn't mean to hurt me, I just fell in love someone who didn't love me in the same way.'
'He does love you, though,' George said quietly.
'I know he does. I just have to learn to love him in the same way.'
George nodded and I managed a smile. He leaned over and patted my hand awkwardly.
'It gets easier, you know. Very slowly, but it does get easier. Apparently one day it stops hurting all together.'
A frown crossed his face and he pulled his hand back across the table.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and stared into my half full mug of hot chocolate.
I reached across the table and felt him tentatively return the squeeze I gave his hand.
'Let's hope that day isn't too far away then.'
…
I hadn't meant for it to slip out, but it had just fallen out my mouth when I was concentrating on something else. I hadn't had time to think about the verbal slip, I had other things to worry about - fooling my parents to believe me and Ron were still together for one - but now that had just about been pulled off without a hitch, I had chance to think about it.
Was I with George? It was a simple enough question, but had the most complicated answer in the world. Not even a month's worth of studying would get to an easy answer to this particular question.
It was just a huge mess really. I knew part of me was still in love with Ron, but part of me was starting to be happy that he was with Harry. I liked spending time with George, but was I just trying to find a replacement for the person who I presumed was going to be with me for the rest of my days?
I had hardly had time to think about it when George had arrived at the flat. I should have realised this was going to happen, it was his flat after all and he had told me to wait upstairs while he dealt with an awkward customer in the shop.
'Knut for your thoughts,' he said with a smile as he walked into the kitchen.
I smiled and was glad when he smiled properly in return.
'Well, at least you're smiling, means you can't have been thinking about anything too bad.'
'Nothing too horrific, no.'
'What's on your mind? Not that you have to tell me, you know the rule, I'm here if you want to talk, but I'll never ask.'
I smiled and folded my arms on the table.
'Um…well…actually I…I was thinking about you.'
'Me? Should I be concerned?'
I chuckled. 'No, not at all, it's just me trying to get things straight in my head.'
George folded his arms like I had done and stared at the table.
'You're wondering what, if anything, is going on between us and whether you can trust your feelings because of…everything that's been going on.'
I didn't mean for my mouth to drop open, but no one had ever taken words directly out of my mouth before. It was both wonderful and very unnerving.
'I…well…' I sighed and put my brain into the talking coherently gear. 'How did you know?'
George smirked a little and looked at me.
'Well, firstly, I'm obviously a genius!'
I smiled and nodded in agreement.
'Secondly, you wear your heart on your sleeve when you're most vulnerable, however much you try not too.'
Again I nodded, but my smile slipped.
'And thirdly, I know because I've been thinking the same. I've been trying to work out what I feel, and I think I've done that, but, more importantly, I've been trying to work out what you're feeling and thinking.'
'If you could let me know, I'd be very grateful!'
My smile was fake and George knew it. He didn't smile but he continued to look at me. He unfolded his arms and managed to free my hand from between my arm and my body. Not that it took much persuasion. I needed some sort of comfort.
'Well, I could tell you what I think, but surely you need to tell yourself what you think, even if it means admitting you don't know everything!'
My smile was real this time but it soon faded. I took a deep breath and looked at him.
'I…I like spending time with you, George, I really do. You're kind and you care about me. You let me cry on your shoulder and you make me laugh when I need it. In fact I…I think I miss you when I don't see you from one day to the next. I don't think it's…I don't think…okay, this isn't going to make sense but I'll say it anyway. Sometimes I think it's just like missing a friend, but other times I think it's more than that. Sorry, I'm not being very coherent.'
'Did I say you had to be coherent? Working things out means you shouldn't be coherent at all! Say anything you need to, regardless of whether you think it makes sense.'
'See! You say things like that and it's exactly what I need! I need someone to tell me to do things how I need to do them as opposed to what I think I should do. You understand me, George, and I really like that. I really like you.'
I stopped to take breath, a little embarrassed by what I had just said. My hands were sweating but George didn't lessen his grip on my hand.
'There's a part of me, that wants to take the step that takes things further with you, but I don't know…'
I stopped, I really didn't know what I was thinking when it came to the possibility of becoming romantically involved with George. I pulled my hand away from him.
'Can I tell you what I think?' George asked quietly.
I nodded.
'I think…you're still in love with my brother, I think you're determined to try and move on from being in love with my brother, I think you like me enough to maybe want to take things further, but you're also scared stiff that you're doing it for all the wrong reasons. It scares you that you can't determine whether you're doing it for the wrong reasons or not and you don't know if there will ever be a right time to start getting into anything more involved than friendship. And I think you're worried about what people will think if they see us together in any capacity. As much as you hate it, you care about what people think.'
Tears had started to fall down my cheek. It was horrifying to have someone lay out all my insecurities in front on me, but I knew deep down that I needed it. I put my head in my hands and started to cry. I heard the chair scrape along the floor and then his hands were on me, encouraging me to stand up. I obeyed and fell into him. He gathered me up and hugged me as I cried, as he had more times than I'd like to admit.
He shushed me and told me it was all right.
We stayed standing and he started whispering into my ear.
'I know you're scared, confused and hurting, but so am I. As far as I can see, there's nothing wrong with us being all those things and more together. You don't have to worry about not knowing what you need or want, I understand that you don't know, just like I understand that that's driving you mad in itself.'
I managed a soft chuckle in between my tears.
'You don't have to know everything, Hermione, and it's not a failure in either not knowing or admitting you don't know.'
'Doesn't…doesn't mean I…I have to like it!'
George chuckled. 'No, you don't, that's fine. You're allowed not to like admitting not knowing something.'
I pulled back and wiped my cheeks with my hands. We stood in silence for a minute, occasionally meeting each other's eye.
'Um…' I began without thinking about how I was going to finish that sentence. 'So…er…'
I stopped and rolled my eyes at myself.
'Does that half-arsed attempt at a sentence have an end, or even a beginning or a middle?' George asked with a grin.
'Possibly,' I replied.
'Oh, okay, I'll wait for it then.'
I gathered my thoughts and tried again.
'Thank you, for…well, understanding and knowing. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, George, and I'd never intend to do that. But I just don't know at the minute if I'll end up doing it without realising it. This whole situation is just strange and weird and I don't-'
He kissed me, which very effectively shut me up.
It was over before it had really sunk in as to what had happened.
'You were thinking too much, I had to stop you before your head exploded.'
'George, I-'
'No, I don't know if that means anything, it could be a taste of things to come, or it could just be a friend trying to help out another friend. We don't and can't know, Hermione, but I refuse to live my life without risk or living as if I'm wrapped in cotton wool. Life's too short. I'm reminded of that every day and I don't ever intend to forget it.
'I know that you'd never knowingly hurt me, but lets not limit what we do just because of a maybe, okay?'
I had started to cry again, but I nodded my head and managed a smile. I stepped into him and wrapped my arms around his waist. I felt him stroke my back and my hair and I sighed. One of my many worries seemed to lift off my shoulders, and I felt that it might, eventually, all be okay.