Michelle

Michelle, ma belle
These are words that go together well
My Michelle

Michelle, ma belle
Sont des mots qui vont tres bien ensemble
tres bien ensemble

I love you, I love you, I love you
that's all I want to say
Until I find a way
I will say the only words I know you'll understand

Michelle, ma belle
Sont des mots qui vont tres bien ensemble
tres bien ensemble

I need to, I need to, I need to
I need to make you see
Oh, what you mean to me
Until I do I'm hoping you will know what I mean
I love you

I want you, I want you, I want you
I think you know by now
I'll get to you some how
Until I do I'm telling you so you'll understand

Michelle, ma belle
Sont des mots qui vont tres bien ensemble
tres bien ensemble
And I will say the only words I know that you'll understand
My Michelle

- The Beatles, "Michelle"

Chapter One

Break-ups and Chats

"Ron..."

"What, Hermione?"

"You know...you know that Harry and Ginny broke up?" Hermione's voice was shaking. "Last...last night."

"Wha-what?" Ron spat out the orange juice that had just been in his mouth a few seconds ago, causing his mother to twitter angrily and contradict, "Ron, really!!"

Ron was nineteen, and Harry and Hermione were eighteen. The trio was staying at the Burrow for a while, as they had no houses of their own yet. It was late in July, just a few days from Harry's nineteenth birthday.

"Sorry, Mum," Ron said indignantly, pulling out his wand and waving it at the spat-out juice; it disappeared instantly and Mrs. Weasley nodded approvingly.

"You mean...they broke up?!" Ron sputtered to Hermione, who nodded slowly.

"Yes." She heaved a gigantic sigh and looked across the table, where Mr. Weasley read the Daily Prophet. He gave no sign he had heard any of their conversation and merely turned a page of the paper.

"Why?!" Ron gasped. He had known it was Harry and Ginny (as a couple) the first time they met - the way Ginny had turned beet red and Harry had looked amused and grinned at her in a clueless sort of way.

Kinda like I do to Hermione, Ron thought, looking at his girlfriend and waiting nervously for a response.

"I...they had a big fight," Hermione quaked, taking a small nibble of toast and looking apprehensive.

"About what?" Ron asked, shocked that a couple as perfect as Harry and Ginny would ever fight.

"About...well...to put it bluntly...Ginny thought Harry was being a bit of a show-off with all this defeating Voldemort - oh stop it Ron, it's just a name and he's dead anyway - and that he's treating her like a little girl," Hermione answered, now looking nervous and anxious. She finished her toast and looked up the stairs. "I bet Ginny's awake but she doesn't want to come down here because she thinks Harry's here too...and Harry probably thinks the same thing." She gave Ron an amused smile and continued. "I'm going to talk to her. I think you should talk to Harry. And then..." The smiled vanished suddenly from her lips, "I want to talk to you. In the orchard. Say..." - she checked her watch - "half an hour. 'Round ten-ish." And without another word, Hermione stood up from her chair and walked up the steps.

Dumbfounded and trying to interpret what Hermione had said, Ron stood up from the table and decided to do what Hermione suggested - talk to Harry. But about what...? Perhaps that Ginny wasn't downstairs and...and about their break-up...

Ron crossed the room and climbed the stairs all the way up to his bedroom. He opened the door and saw Harry sitting on Ron's bed, staring at the bright orange wallpaper. Ron quietly closed the door, but of course didn't succeed as Pig flew through the door that moment, twittering loudly. Ron swore under his breath as Harry turned and saw him - Harry turned a delicate shade of green and continued to stare at the wall. Ron grabbed the owl and stuffed him unceremoniously into his cage.

"So..." Ron said, sitting down next to Harry, "I...I heard you and Ginny broke up."

Harry grunted. Ron knew it would be hard to get a response out of him.

"Er...how about the Cannons, eh mate?" Ron said, changing the subject abruptly.

Harry grunted again.

"Uh...can't believe they beat the Tornadoes! Wasn't that great?" Ron smiled unconvincingly. "Cho supported the Tornadoes, didn't she?"

Harry turned to Ron, his eyes red and blood-shot and his hair even more messy than usual. "Yes, she did," he said, his voice filled with sorrow. "Another girl I let down...why the bloody hell are you talking about Quidditch, anyway?"

"Er...I...um...no reason," Ron replied, embarrassed. He felt his ears redden slightly.

Harry gave him a look that reminded him so much of Hermione; the look that said "I-know-you're-not-telling-me-the-truth-and-if-you-don't-I-am-going-to-hex-you".

"Uh...well...I wanted to take your mind off..." Ron trailed off in horror, realizing that he was probably digging his own grave.

"What?" Harry demanded sharply but yet wearily at the same time.

"I wanted to take your mind off of Ginny," Ron muttered, his cheeks blazing in embarrassment.

To his surprise, instead of taking a swing at Ron, Harry merely sighed and asked tiredly, "It was Hermione's idea, wasn't it?"

"Uh...yeah," Ron admitted.

"Oh. Yeah, I figured." Harry suddenly fell silent and stared at the wall again.

There was a long, loud, awkward silence. Ron couldn't think of anything to say, except, "Why the bloody hell did you break up with my sister??!!" And of course, he didn't want to say that, of all things.

"Harry?" Ron said uncertainly, not even knowing what the heck he was going to say.

Harry grunted in a Crabbe-like way.

"Uh...why did you and Ginny break up?" Ron asked tentatively.

Harry mumbled something that sounded vaguely like, "don't know", "too bossy", "thinks she's too little", and "she's just a pain in the arse."

"Uh...can you connect those? You know, like into sentences?" Ron asked, trying to comprehend Harry's murmurings.

Harry grumbled something like, "no".

"Well...Hermione said that Ginny thought that you were a bit full of yourself," Ron said firmly.

"What? Oh yeah, she did...." Harry said sadly. Then his gaze snapped back to Ron and he said grumpily, "How did she know?"

"Ginny probably told her, mate," Ron said. "That's what girls do. They have a problem and they tell their best girl friend immediately. Like -"

"Blah blah blah, I could care less about girls and what they talk about," Harry said quietly. "I haven't been acting full of myself, have I?" Harry turned to Ron, his eyes shining with desperation.

"Er...to tell you the truth Harry..." Ron said, buying time. Ron personally thought that Harry was gloating a bit about the death of You-Know-Who, and Ginny apparently thought so too, and she found it in herself to tell him flat out. "Yeah. I do think you've been a bit...a bit of a braggart," Ron confessed awkwardly.

"Oh. Thanks a lot," Harry said angrily, turning away from Ron and looking at the ceiling.

"Harry...c'mon, what else happened? It can't be that bad!" Ron said desperately, thinking that would be the right thing to say.

He was wrong.

Harry turned to Ron, his eyes blazing with hurt and fury. "How would you know, Ronald Weasley? You haven't just broken up with the love of your life!" he spat fiercely. "It was that bad, you idiot. Your head is so far up your arse that you can't see anything! Do you know anything about love at all? Or are you and Hermione just playmates? You have as much experience with love as a ten year old! Just leave me alone. I don't want to talk about love with an inexperienced, immature arse-hole." With that, Harry gave Ron a withering look and turned away.

"Oh...fine. Be that way then," Ron snapped, hurt and offended - he knew a lot more about love than Harry thought, and Harry's words reminded Ron strongly of Ginny in their sixth year. "If you're not going to talk to your best mate and say things like that, then I'll just leave."

"'K," Harry muttered darkly, now staring out the window.

"Fine." Ron stood up quickly from his bed and ducked out of his room; he was now so tall that his head nearly hit the ceiling.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked down at his robes; they fit, for once. Scowling, he made his way downstairs and into the kitchen. It was deserted except for Mrs. Weasley, who was cleaning the breakfast dishes and humming to herself.

"Have you seen Hermione?" Ron asked.

Mrs. Weasley gave a soft scream and whirled around, clutching her heart. Ron jumped back a foot, surprised.

"Good Merlin, Ronald, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" Mrs. Weasley gasped, breathing heavily.

"Sorry, Mum," Ron said apologetically, hurrying forward and giving his mum a hug. "Didn't mean to scare you like that..."

"Oh, Ronnie..." Mrs. Weasley crooned, stroking Ron's hair affectionately.

"Er...Mum?" Ron said uncertainly, trying to pull away from his mother.

"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked mildly, letting Ron out of the hug but still stroking his hair.

"Where...where's Hermione? Have you seen her?" he asked quickly.

"Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley seemed a bit distracted. "Oh yes, she just came down not three minutes ago, she was looking for you, dear. She said something about the apple orchard."

"Great," Ron said thankfully.

"Hmm...you and Hermione have big plans for the day?" Mrs. Weasley asked mischievously, taking a step back from her son and grinning.

"Uh...I honestly don't know," Ron said, embarrassed. "It was Hermione's idea to meet in the orchard."

"Okay then," Mrs. Weasley sang, turning back to the sink and picking up her wand. "You don't want to be late."

"'K, Mum," Ron said, grinning also. Without another word, he turned away from his mother and headed out the back door, wondering what Hermione was up to.