Arden's Refuge

"So it's over, then?" Severus asked. "Completely?"

"She said she realized that we were not right for each another, and she thanked me for always treating her well... But it's over, Severus... And I'm not sure how to react. I think it's for good this time."

Severus sighed. He hadn't signed up to be Weasley's therapist. "And how," he said with a heavy note of sarcasm that Ron failed to detect, "does that make you feel?"

"At first, angry because she broke up with me over owl. I mean, how cheap is that? It's like... It's like something I would do." Ron grinned a bit. "Actually, I have done that more than once."

Severus silently admired Hermione's sense of poetic justice. "And now, Weasley?

"Now I feel kind of... relieved, actually. I ought to be more upset over this. It's been... an hour... I should still be in tears. This was my fiancée, here... But no, she's right. We aren't right for each other. And my mother can't get mad at me over this," Ron added. "I suppose that sounded very immature."

Severus smirked and slowly nodded. "Ron, I'm terribly... touched," he said, with a playful sneer, "that you've decided to share this with me. I'm sure this must be terribly difficult for you."

"No, not really," Ron said lightly. "I've been thinking about it, and I think I can do better than Granger."

Not in your life, Severus silently remarked. "Oh, really?"

"She's pretty hot, I mean, but there are hotter chicks out there."

"Mr. Weasley, if you cannot elevate the conversation above remarks about 'hot chicks,' I suggest you leave me in peace."

Ron failed to take the remark with the level of seriousness that Severus had intended. "Oh, all right," he said, laughing, "but really, I got tired of the way she always wanted to talk about such... bizarre things. Like I care anything about Muggle poetry! And I always got the impression that she thought she was smarter than I am."

"If I may interject one comment here, Weasley, as the former teacher of both of you, I can assure you that she would, in fact, be accurate in such an assessment."

"Oh, thanks a lot."

"She is, after all, working on a doctorate from Oxford, in twentieth-century literature."

"Is that what she's studying? How... dull..." Ron shook his head. "I feel sorry for her."

"Oh, yes. As do I," Severus commented.

"I thought you liked that sort of thing yourself. I saw you reading that book that time... what was it, Yeets?"

"Yeats," he corrected.

"Yeah, Hermione loves that guy. She was trying to get me to read him, and I was just, like, 'No, I don't care,'" Ron went on.

It took a great deal of self-restraint for Severus to stop himself from slapping the fool.

"Weasley, if I may say so, it reflects very badly on your character to see you abusing your ex-fiancee so soon after the break-up. One might suspect you're harboring resentment."

"No resentment here!" Ron said flippantly. "None, whatsoever. I'm done with her! Take her, she's yours." Ron looked at him pointedly.

"What is this about?"

Ron sat down across from Severus and glared at him. "Dumbledore told me what happened. So did you enjoy taking her out?"

Severus glared back--and much more impressively, he was sure. "In a manner of speaking."

"I can see what happened. You took her out, she was so impressed by your... Yeats poems and your coffee and... whatever it is you people talk about... and now she just can't stoop to my level anymore... You stole her."

"Calm down, Weasley. I didn't steal her. If I'd stolen her, I would have her. Clearly," he said, gesturing toward himself, "that isn't the case."

"Just because you tossed her aside... doesn't mean you didn't steal her first!"

"Weasley, look, if you think it possible that I could have remotely attracted your ex-fiancée, you are even more of a dunderhead than everyone thinks you are. I'm sure Hermione didn't even mention me in her letter."

"No, she didn't, but--"

Severus found himself slightly disappointed. "You see, I had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all. Besides," he added caustically, "if I could have 'stolen' your fiancée in the course of one date, clearly, you had little hold on her to begin with."

"Yes, thank you, Severus, for just putting down the last ten years of my life!"

"Calm yourself. You said earlier that you knew you weren't right for one another. Come on, Ron, you know that is the truth. We could all see it."

Ron crossed his armsand tightened his lips.

"And Ron, I can assure you of one thing. I did not--" Severus was interrupted by a series of hacking coughs. His eyes watered, spilling onto his cheeks. Several moments later, he found his voice again, but it was croaky and weak. "Look, I never intended for things to happen the way they did, and I can assure you I'm no happier about it than you are."

Ron stood up and started moving towards the door. "Severus, I've never known you to be a liar. A terribly rude man... yes... but... all right. I suppose I believe you."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley. Goodnight!" he added, in a sarcastically cheery voice.

-----

Dumbledore told him the next day, when he brought Severus some hot tea, that Ron had reluctantly admitted to him that it was probably all for the best, anyway.

"I don't care," Severus said. "And he's wrong. At least from my perspective, this is hardly the best possible situation."

"Perhaps things will improve."

Severus rolled his eyes at such irrational optimism. "I'm sick."

"Make a potion," Albus suggested pointedly.

"Thank you, Albus, I never would have thought of that on my own."

"Obviously not. Otherwise, I would wonder what a potions master was doing lying in bed with a simple cold when he could be downstairs talking to the love of his life."

"Oh, shut up." Severus took a swallow of tea. Too sweet, as always. "She's downstairs? Hermione Granger?"

"She is."

Severus sat up in bed. "Why is she here?"

"She had to discuss some matters with her... ex-fiancee."

"Stop smirking like that. It's as if you think you've been successful. Let me tell you, you haven't. You've broken up a couple that had a--well, an okay chance of making it work. You've reduced your potions master to..." he pointed at himself, "well, to this... and you've set up for Hermione some ideal that no one will ever be able to meet."

"No one, Severus?"

"Is she still talking to Ron?"

"No, Ron was feeling much better this morning and after a brief chat with Hermione, he left the premises."

"And she's still here? Why?"

"She asked for you." Severus felt his heart pounding. "She said something about a book... Neruda? Is that the name?"

She remembered the book. Maybe there was some hope for something? Friendship, maybe? Even that would be better than anything he'd ever let himself imagine.

"I suppose I could whip up a potion and come down to talk to her."

Dumbledore smiled broadly. "I'll tell her to wait for you."

"Do cease your infernal triumphant smirking. You haven't won yet."