The You I Never Knew Part 11/?
The You I Never Knew
Author: MuseMe87
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Beta: PigWithHair
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,917
Disclaimer: All characters and canon situations are property of J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Originally written prior to Deathly Hallows and is considered AU.
Summary: Adele Granger never knew about the Wizarding world until the day she receives her admissions letter to Hogwarts. Now her mother, Hermione, must return to the world she left eleven years prior, and Adele will begin to search for the answer to her biggest question: who is her father?
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When Adele woke up that morning, she knew it was going to be a good day. It was sunny and Saturday, for starters. She was finally able to speak with her friends instead of avoiding them for fear of being interrogated, and her appetite had thankfully returned. Not to mention the fact that her mother was going to speak with her father. And it was that thought that plagued her all through breakfast (which happened to include some of her favorite foods). Everything seemed to be going perfect until she received the owl from her grandparents.
She looked down at the letter that had been discarded on the grass next to her and felt like she was going to throw up again. Her mum had been in an accident and was in the hospital, and after contacting Professor McGonagall, it had been decided that Adele would go home for a short time. Grandmum had also mentioned that Mum bumped her head rather hard, but that the doctors said that everything was going to be fine, so not to fret over it. Adele couldn’t help but let out a sob at the thought of that. “Was going to be fine” and “looked fine” were two entirely different things.
Adele really hadn’t thought much about her mother and father not being able to meet up aside from acknowledging the fact. She would never have a family if her mum…didn’t make it. And while her grandmum didn’t give her any reason in the letter to think that way, Adele knew that there was a reason why she was leaving school for a couple of days. Her mum had to be in bad shape.
The sound of footsteps behind her grabbed her attention, and she quickly dried her eyes and cheeks before turning around to see who it was.
She hadn’t expected to see Professor Potter-she wasn’t sure how she felt about calling him “Uncle Harry” yet-but she was happy to seem him. He had promised her after a lengthy discussion in Headmistress McGonagall’s office that he would come by to check on her in the morning. For some reason, she didn’t think he would, maybe because she always saw him as a mean man rather than someone who cared about her. He proved her wrong though, and she was happier for it.
“I just talked to Professor McGonagall.” He said no more but looked at her sympathetically.
“I’m supposed to meet Grandmum at noon.”
Tears stinging her eyes, Adele was unable to continue. She was scared. Really scared. She didn’t want her mum to die. But people’s mums died all the time. She began to cry even though she tried to hold it back.
She didn’t see Professor Potter kneel in front of her but realized he must have when she felt him hug her tightly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back just like her mum did. She was grateful that he didn’t say anything, but she understood what he was trying to tell her. He wasn’t about to abandoned her in a time when she needed family the most. And he was family; he was Uncle Harry.
He pulled away from her and wiped any lingering tears off of her face. “Let’s finish getting you packed, okay? Then I’ll go with you to where your grandmum is meeting you.”
Adele wanted to thank him but didn’t think she could without starting to cry again. Instead, she nodded and proceeded back into the school to gather up the rest of her things she would need for her trip home while Uncle Harry helped her with her bag.
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Ron looked at the clock on the wall of the café that read 11:37. She was late. Every time a minute passed the hour they were supposed to meet, Ron felt stupider. Maybe she had chickened out. Then again, maybe she had never intended to show up in the first place. He wanted to punch something he was so hacked off, but chose not to for fear that he would be asked to leave. He couldn’t risk that, just in case.
Perhaps he had misunderstood her. He knew he hadn’t, but it was the only explanation for her absence that he cared to consider. In the less than twenty-four hours since he received the letter, he’d read it so many times that he could recite it by heart.
Dearest Ron,
I hope this letter finds you well. I can’t imagine what you must be thinking at the moment- other than it’s probably rather colorful. You certainly couldn’t have anticipated my contacting you after all these years, but I hope that you’re not put off by it, despite everything that has happened.
There is so much that I need to tell you and want to talk about. I know that I’ve given you no reason to want to talk to me, so I’m asking you out of the kindness of your heart to meet with me tomorrow. I was hoping that we could meet at “our café,” as you used to call it. It was such an important place to us, and well, it would mean so much to me if you could come.
And for what it’s worth, I’ve never stopped…missing you. Not in all these years.
Always,
Hermione
11:39 and Ron felt like he was going to die. How long was too long for a bloke to wait for a girl?
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“You’re awfully quiet back there, pumpkin.”
She met her granddad’s eyes in the rearview mirror but wasn’t about to offer up what was on her mind. He meant well; she knew that. And Adele imagined that it was taking all the effort he could muster to try to act like everything was going to be just fine. But the look on her grandmother’s face when she’d picked her up told Adele otherwise.
They had taken her to eat before they began their drive to the hospital, and it was there that Adele accidentally found out that her mum was still unconscious. Her grandparents were discussing it while Adele briefly excused herself to the loo and on her way back, she’d overheard them. She wasn’t really sure what it meant for a person to still be unconscious the morning after an accident, but it couldn’t be good.
“Adele, honey, don’t worry. You’re mum is going to be as right as rain. She’s just a little banged up right now.”
She wanted to believe her grandmum. She really did.
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Tipping the bottle, Ron filled up another shot glass with Firewhisky. He’d waited for her for two hours before he’d run out of reasons for a possible late arrival. She’d never come though, leaving him with another question to add to an already too long list of them. And as much as it pained him to think, he felt as if he was really ready to close the book on this relationship of theirs.
It would require liquid courage though, which partially explained the alcohol. He didn’t think he’d have the strength to do it in his right mind, especially since every time he tried to move on he found himself feeling the way he had just after the Second War. And while everyone teased him about being clueless and unfeeling, Ron knew the truth of the matter. He was still sentimental, regardless of what happened between them. And that was the other reason for the Firewhisky: it would make him numb to everything he didn’t want to feel anymore and feed his anger for the situation. He’d need that if he ever had any hope of going through with it.
He placed the old photograph that he had carried with him in his wallet for years along with the letter she’d sent him just the day before on a plate in front of him. He toyed with the wand in his hand a bit while he judge if he was far enough along in his drinking to be able to cast incendio and be rid of her once and for all.
“Ron?”
He hadn’t heard Harry arrive but no matter. He was always welcome. Maybe it wasn’t the best time, but then again, maybe it was the perfect time. He could get everything off his chest, everything he hadn’t had the chance to tell anyone, and be on with it.
“You alright, mate?” Harry again.
Ron waved his hand. “Fine.”
“Yeah? That half empty bottle of Firewhisky suggests otherwise.”
Harry sat himself down at the table and picked up the nearest shot glass. He poured himself one, inclined it slightly towards Ron as if to toast him and then downed it. Ron knew what he was up to. Harry wasn’t one to play the psychologist every time he had a problem, nor was he one to prod for information. He would just sit there in silence if Ron felt like talking, and if not, he’d just stick around and enjoy his best mate’s company.
“It’s Hermione.”
Harry looked at him half shocked and half curious. “What about her?”
Ron gestured towards the note on the plate. “Sent me a letter last night. Wanted to meet up today. Talk about something. I don’t know.”
“Did you go?”
“I didn’t want to. Well maybe I did. Just a little. You know, to get answers and stuff.” He sighed. “But none of that matters now. She didn’t show.”
Ron watched Harry carefully for his reaction. He expected him to be surprised, but the look on his face told Ron that he wasn’t. It was as if he was keeping something from him, as if he’d known about Hermione’s return all this time.
“You knew, didn’t you?” His question was met with silence. “Damn it, Harry!”
“Sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret or anything. She just wanted to do it her own way. But I swear that I haven’t known all that long.”
Ron felt like he should feel a lot more hacked off than he did. Harry hadn’t said anything, which wasn’t right, but he could have just been looking out for Ron’s best interest. Maybe he didn’t want to stir things up after he knew that he’d moved on with Marcy. Ron couldn’t fault the bloke for that. And it was only natural for Hermione to have contacted Harry too. They were as close as brother and sister, after all. Ron felt as if he really wasn’t justified in holding too big of a grudge against his brother-in-law.
“Doesn’t matter. She didn’t show anyway.”
“I know.”
Ron looked at him, brow furrowed. “What do you mean you know?”
“I…got word that she was in an accident last night.”
All the anger that he felt towards Hermione at that moment drained from him all at once and came around to punch him right in the gut. If she had wanted to stand him up, that was one thing. But he was right. She had wanted to come; something just had happened. Something…bad.
“Do you know if she’s okay?” He sounded panicked.
“I hear she’s stable, but she’s still unconscious.”
“Bloody hell, Harry!” He jumped out of his chair and ran his fingers through his hair, as if it would make him think more clearly. “Where is she? I have to see her. I need to see her.”
“She’s at some Muggle hospital near her parent’s place. But, Ron-”
He was already walking towards the door. “No, Harry, just…no.”
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Epilogue