Eighteen Months (And a Few Minutes) Later
Title: Eighteen Months (And a Few Minutes) Later
Author: kanedax
Spoilers: Deathly Hallows
Rating: R for language
Characters: Harry/Ginny, Ron/Hermione, Luna, Neville, Dean, Seamus
Summary: Ron confronts his past with Hermione and Harry, and makes a decision for the future.
Notes: Busy weekend: Sixteen Months Later: Titan Arum. Seventeen Months Later: The Last Straw. Eighteen Months Later: The Incident.
This story takes place within the Harry Potter timeline, December 12th, 1999, in case anyone’s wondering about the WTC reference. It's also the last part of the "World Tour" series, so there's a good chance this will be the last one to hop a month at a time for a while. None of these characters belong to me. JK Rowling owns them all. I get big in this chapter. And deep. And I hope to God I do them all justice.
Eighteen Months Later: The Incident / Previous Chapters / Twenty-Two Months Later: Housewarming
Hermione Granger turned back to New York City, and toward the man that she loved above all others.
She leaned against the railing to his right, feeling the cold of the iron through her jacket. She saw her breath billow from her mouth into the falling snowflakes, and in the side of her vision saw a puff of Ron’s breath, as well.
They stood together in an uncomfortable silence. He wanted to talk to her. And she wanted to talk to him. But how do you start after everything that’s happened?
“What are those?” Ron asked, and Hermione turned to see him pointing toward the skyline.
“Which ones?” Hermione replied.
“The two really tall buildings.”
“It’s the World Trade Center,” she said.
“Both of them?”
Hermione nodded, not sure if he was even looking at her. “Yes,” she said, just to be sure.
“Are they supposed to look the same?”
“They’re called the Twin Towers, so, yeah.”
She heard Ron chuckle, and knew that he was shaking his head in a very Arthur Weasley-like way. “Muggles,” he said. “I just don’t get it…”
“You talked to Harry,” Hermione said.
Ron paused. “Yeah,” he said. “I did.”
“And you talked to Ginny.”
“Yeah…”
“How did it go?”
“With who?”
“Both of them?”
“Harry went well,” Ron said. “He’s easy to talk to, you know? We’ve just never really talked about anything but Quidditch or our yearly ‘Who’s Trying To Kill Us’ mystery.”
“And Ginny?”
Ron shrugged. “She got her shots in. I knew that they were coming. And I deserved every one of them. Then she told me where she was coming from. And I told her where I was coming from. And things got straightened out, as you, you know, probably saw.”
“She’s not mad at you anymore?”
“She’s like you said,” Ron explained. “She’s a grown woman. I get that now. I shouldn’t have this horrible double-standard between what they do and what we do… did… you know…”
“Good,” said Hermione. “I’m glad to hear it.”
“Yeah…”
Ron trailed off. For the next minute or two they stood in silence, nothing but the cars on the mainland, the water lapping along the side of the boat, and the quiet chatter of the other tourists on the deck, hailing from who-knows-where.
“Ron,” Hermione said quietly. “I miss you.”
Ron nodded, his eyes looking down into the water. “I miss you, too.”
“It helps that you’ve made a lot of progress, and… and I just… I just want to be with you again. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he said, still downcast. “But I can’t be with you. Not yet.”
Hermione’s heart stopped. “Why?”
“Because I haven’t done everything you’ve asked of me yet…”
“Ron, if this is about the locket…”
“I lied to you, Hermione,” said Ron. “I hate myself for doing it. But I lied to you that afternoon. Right before you ended it. And I can’t be with you knowing that I’m living a lie.”
Hermione closed her mouth. She turned to her right to see that Ginny was peeking over her shoulder on the far end of the boat before turning back to Ron.
“If you need to tell me,” she said, putting her gloved hand on his. “I want you to. No matter what…”
“Each of the Horcruxes were dangerous,” said Ron. “The diary nearly killed Ginny. The snake nearly killed my Dad, and you, and Harry. It killed Snape and Bagshot. The ring killed Dumbledore, and Harry had to die in order to destroy the one that was inside of him. The chalice burned us, and probably would have done worse if we had tried to drink out of it, and I don’t even want to think about what the diadem would have done to our minds if one of us had tried to wear it. But the locket…”
Ron pulled his hand away from Hermione, running them both through his hair in concentration. “You have to understand something,” he said. “The family tree that my Mum and Dad split off has two Head Boys and two Quidditch Captains. It has a man who, despite everything that happened, became the Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic two years out of school. It has a man who married one of the most beautiful women anyone has ever met, a Triwizard Champion. Another who wrestles dragons for a living, two that were the center of attention at any party, and who created an extremely successful business without even trying. It has one girl, the youngest, the one that my mother has wanted from the beginning. And it has me.
“Suffice it to say, being even second-best in that family was a pipe dream for me from day one.
“And then Harry showed up. We got along right away. Don’t misunderstand me; I love him. He’s my best mate, always has been, always will be. But it made things so much harder, standing next to The Boy Who Lived. Whenever he came to visit the Burrow, my mother would dote on him while ordering me around. Fred and George would treat him like an equal while giving me nothing but grief. Ginny had a mad crush on him before he had even said a word to her. Didn’t even ask me about my first year of school unless it was ‘Does Harry like this?’ ‘Does Harry do that?’ ‘Did Harry really defeat You-Know-Who and make the Quidditch team?’
“And then…” Ron hesitated. “And then there was you.”
Hermione turned her head up to see that he was now looking her in the eyes.
“I don’t know when I first fell in love with you,” he said. “When you’re eleven years old it’s tough to tell what love even is, let alone when it hits you. All I know is that by the time I saw you that second summer, I had already memorized your face, your mannerisms, enough to know that you had your mother’s smile. And I had only met her for thirty seconds at Diagon Alley. When Malfoy called you a… a you know… I wanted to hurt him more than I had ever wanted to hurt anyone before. When the basilisk Petrified you, I didn’t even know what to think. I just needed to act, but we were too hopeless to do anything about it until we found your note.
“I saw your mouth changed, that you shrunk your teeth, before you even told Harry. I couldn’t build up the courage to ask you to the Yule Ball because, well, I didn’t think I was good enough to be with someone like you. I was hoping that you would go with someone like Neville or one of the twins. Because they were safe, they had enough going against them that I felt that I could make some kind of effort once the dance actually started. When I found out that you were going with Viktor, someone who I admired almost as much as I admired Harry… well, you know what happened…
“And you and Harry…” Ron shook his head. “I never quite got you two. You were angry with me all of the time. Whenever you and I stopped speaking to each other, it was because I had screwed up, or said something that hurt you. But with him… it didn’t matter what he said, or what he did. The only times I ever saw you get angry with him were when he was putting himself at risk. Breaking into Umbridge’s office, fooling around with the Half-Blood Prince’s book, not putting enough attention toward the Tri-Wizard Tournament or Slughorn’s memory. You were always angry with me because you hated me, and were always angry with him because you cared about him. I would see you two together, and I would be jealous of what you had, and I was afraid that I was losing you and my family to him.”
“Ron, I…”
“So the Horcrux came,” Ron continued. “Slytherin’s locket. It made us all think things that we didn’t want to think. Harry wore it, and he felt powerless, joyless, against the Dementors. I don’t know what it made you think…”
“It made me feel like an idiot,” said Hermione. “Like the answer to everything, the answer about how to destroy them, was right in front of me, but I was too stupid to figure it out, no matter what books I read.”
“It made us feel worse,” Ron said, nodding as he listened to her. “But it didn’t create anything that wasn’t already there. Harry’s always felt insecure about being able to fight, about losing everything that he loved. You’ve always been afraid that you couldn’t find the answer in time. And…”
“It made you feel inferior,” Hermione said, remembering Ron lying on his cot as she and Harry madly discussed their plans regarding the Sword of Gryffindor.
“It did more than that,” said Ron. “I have a feeling it loved me most of all. I had almost eighteen years of insecurities built up inside me. I was a fucking all-you-can-suck buffet for it. And when I took it off for the last time, I didn’t feel better. I felt like all of my worst fears had come true. Because you chose him. Because you loved him more than you loved me. Always had.”
“I never forgot you,” she said quietly. “I was a mess. Harry and I barely looked at each other; barely spoke to each other until we went to the Hollow. The hardest decision I ever made was Apparating after you left. As soon as we appeared on the other side, I completely broke down.”
“The night I came back,” Ron continued. “After I heard you… Well, we told you most of what happened. Harry saw Snape’s patronus. Went after it. Saw where Snape had put the sword under the ice and dove in after it. I saw him drowning, and I pulled him and the sword out of the water, pulled the locket off his neck when I saw that it was trying to strangle him. And he told me I should be the one to destroy it, because I was the one that rescued him, rescued the sword, that I was the one worthy to carry it.”
“And you were…”
“It didn’t feel like it at the time,” Ron snorted. “I felt like an ass for leaving you two alone. Felt like I pulled the sword out, saved his life, by accident. And, honestly, the locket scared the piss out of me; I was hoping you two had already done away with it by then.
“But, it wasn’t the case. And so Harry told me to get ready. And he opened it. And… and it took me.”
“Took you?”
“When I wore it, it read me like a book. And when Harry opened it, it made it all… real. I saw you. And I saw Harry. And you told me how worthless I was, how you hated me. And Harry told me that my mother would rather have him as a son, would have rather have raised him, rather had me die by Voldemort’s hand, would… and how you would rather be with him, how EVERYONE would rather be with him, and then I saw you two… you…”
“You saw us together,” Hermione said, her hand on her mouth as Ron’s head fell into his hands.
“Together’s a nice way of putting it,” he said. “Snogging’s another way. Kissing, making out, tongue-fucking. Probably would have gotten more X-rated, too, if I hadn’t completely snapped.”
“But you destroyed it, Ron,” Hermione said. “You didn’t listen to it…”
“But I did,” Ron said, looking at her, his eyes pleading. “For just a split-second, I listened to it. And you were there, and Harry was there, and Harry was also behind it, holding it open and screaming for me to kill it and for a moment part of me wanted to drive that fucking sword into his face and get him out of my life and I hate myself for it!”
Hermione watched as the man she loved started to cry, the tears rolling down his long nose and into the water below. She knew that she should put a hand on his shoulder, but feared that he would pull away if she did.
“So I lay there,” he said finally. “Like a quivering pile of jelly. My mind was still seeing what the locket showed me: you and Harry happily together. But I think most of it was that I had just had the worst thought I would ever have in my life. I never thought I could hurt Harry, let alone want to kill him. Part of me didn’t want to move. And part of me wanted to throw myself into the lake, or stick the sword in my chest, and just end it all, because I deserved it.
“And Harry knew what he saw. Knew what the locket had done, that it had been showing me my worst fear. I think he knew that I had that moment of hesitation, might have seen the tip of the sword tip toward him. But he came over to me. And he knelt down beside me. And he talked to me. I can still remember everything that he said. ‘After you left,’ he said, ‘she cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didn’t want me to see. There were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other.’
“’She’s like a sister to me,’ he said. ‘I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me. It’s always been like that. I thought you knew.’”
“That’s how it’s always been,” Hermione said, feeling that she could touch him now. “I do love Harry. And, yes, he is like my brother. There’s never been anything there romantically. I could never love him as much…”
“’I thought you knew,’ he said,” Ron continued. “But I didn’t know. I didn’t get it. Before a few weeks ago, I still didn’t get it. My whole life has been family and friends. Two separate parts, never the twain shall meet. I had so many brothers to compete with, so many cousins and nephews and aunts and uncles that I didn’t understand how someone would need to find more.
“Family had always come first for me. It had been ingrained in me from the moment I came out into the world. That’s why I always treated Ginny like I did. From day one when she showed up to Hogwarts, my Mum made it perfectly clear that Ginny was my responsibility. After the Chamber of Secrets, I felt like I had failed her. So I did everything that I could to make sure that I didn’t screw up again. I wanted to be something more than a failure to my parents, and seeing Ginny grow up, become independent, was a black mark against me because I didn’t know how my parents would react to, you know, the thought of their little angel becoming popular, or boy-happy, or even worse under my watch.
“But I realized that there was more to it,” he said. “After I talked to Harry, after I talked to Ginny. Family’s not an obligation. It’s… I never got Harry. I knew that his parents had died and left him as an only child. For some reason, though, it never registered. I always thought ‘Well, he has the Dursleys. They may suck, but they’re the only family he has.’ So I saw you and him together, and I never thought of anything else but competition. I never even considered what Harry saw in Hagrid. Or Sirius. Or Dumbledore, or Lupin, or even my own parents. I thought Bill and my Mum were just being polite when they came to see him at the Tournament. Never for a moment did I think that Harry actually loved my Mum as, you know, a Mum.”
“Family’s not about obligation,” said Hermione quietly. “It’s about love. It’s about having someone you need to be with that you don’t have anywhere else. Before a year ago, I was an only child as much as Harry is. My parents may still be alive, but they’ve never really been able to understand everything that I’ve gone through. So I feel the same way about your parents as Harry does, and I feel the same way about him, and about Ginny, and Neville and Luna, as Harry feels about me…”
“And after Harry and I talked over the past few weeks, it’s hit me, too,” Ron said. “After I destroyed the locket, it… Harry could have hated me for feeling like I did, for seeing what he saw. Could have known that he was an inch away from dying by my hand. Could have left me alone to fix myself up before dragging my sorry arse back to the tent or back home again. But he didn’t. He comforted me. Told me what I needed to hear, which was the truth. And he hugged me. Like a brother. Carried my load with him as we went back for your… um… unique brand of welcome.”
“Ron,” Hermione breathed. “If I had known what you two had gone through…”
“Hermione, I deserved every last inch of what you gave me that night,” Ron said, and she was relieved to see a small smile cross his face. “More than you possibly could have imagined at the time. Hell, considering what I had put myself through, what I thought I deserved, I thought I got off light. Canaries… you could have tossed a pack of ostriches at me and it still would have felt like heaven.”
“I’m fairly sure ostriches run in flocks,” said Hermione. “But I’ll have to look it up.”
“And that’s the girl I fell in love with,” Ron sighed, and looked back toward the water in what Hermione felt, in relief, was a comfortable silence.
“So…” Hermione said. “Is that everything? Because you know I still love you after all of that, right?”
“Almost everything,” Ron said. “I guess I still have to get to my point, don’t I?”
“There was a point beyond hearing you say more incredible things than I’ve ever heard you say?”
Ron smiled, then closed his eyes in concentration. “I’m not the perfect man,” he said quietly. “I know it. I’ve always known it. And I’ve never really known what love is, what family is, until I had you in my life, Hermione. I’ve become a better man because of you. And I want to keep improving as each day goes on, to make myself better for you. But I can’t do it without you beside me.
“As part of my family.”
Ron reached into his pocket.
“Oh my God…” Ginny breathed as she looked over her shoulder for what felt like the dozenth time since she and Harry had reluctantly left Hermione to whatever fate may come.
“What?” Harry said, turning around.
“Is he actually…?”
Ginny grabbed Harry’s arm and squeezed tightly as they watched Ron drop to one knee across the ship.
“The prat’s actually proposing!” Ginny squealed, and Harry felt like his arm was going to be torn off.
They watched as Ron opened pulled the small box from his pocket, opened it, showed it to Hermione. Watched as she put her hand over her mouth. Watched her nod. Watched as Ron stood up again and kissed her.
And then Ginny was gone, sprinting across the deck, which was thankfully enchanted to prevent slipping in the snow. Harry carefully walked a few paces behind her, his hands in his pockets as Luna, Neville, Dean, and Seamus came up from below.
“Did we miss it?” Luna asked him.
“Just in time,” Harry smiled as Ginny plowed into Hermione, almost knocking her over the railing with her hug.
“Oh, good,” said Luna as the three men passed by her to join Ron. “She said ‘yes,’ correct?”
“God, I hope so,” Harry laughed. “We didn’t actually hear anything. Just saw a nod and a kiss.”
“I believe that would be a ‘yes,’ then,” she said, and the two walked over to the group, as Ginny had closed Ron in just as tight of a hug as she had given Hermione, and the three men were exchanging their congratulations with her, and taking a look at the ring.
“You’re going to let me see that, right?” Harry said to Hermione who immediately ran over and hugged him.
“You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?” she growled in his ear.
“I thought it might,” Harry replied. “He was going to save it for Christmas, but after everything that happened, he thought it might be appropriate, if everything went well. The skyline, you know?”
“Kid did a lot of growing in a month,” Hermione said as Harry and Ron embraced.
“Congratulations,” Harry said.
“It was all you, mate,” said Ron.
“Doubtful…”
“Okay,” Ron said, pulling away and punching Harry in the shoulder. “Your turn.”
“What?” Harry said. “You sure?”
“Absolutely,” Ron said.
“Well,” Harry cleared his throat. “I thought a little bit later. You know, I don’t want to steal your thunder.”
“Storm’s passed, Harry. Steal away.”
Harry shrugged. “Alright, then.” And he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box of his own.
It took Ginny Weasley a few moments before she even realized what was happening. Harry Potter was already on his knee, Hermione’s hands were already over her mouth, her friends were already grinning broadly at her, before she fully understood.
“I’m not much for words,” said Harry to her. “But I love you more than I can say. You were my hope when I was in the wilderness, my last comfort before the dark. I can’t imagine you not beside me. I promised you that I would never leave you again. And I intend to keep that promise, if you want me to…”
“Yes!” Ginny screamed, and the others burst into laughter.
“Well, that was easy,” Harry chuckled.
“No, no, sorry,” Ginny said, her face turning all shades of red, waving her hands and reminding Harry very much of the 10-year-old Ginny Weasley he first met on Platform 9 3/4. “Ask me. Ask me.”
“Ginevra Weasley,” Harry asked, “Will you marry me?”
“I already gave you the answer, now get up here and kiss me.”
And he did.
Eighteen Months Later: The Incident / Previous Chapters / Twenty-Two Months Later: Housewarming