I Believe You Too

Ron walked out of Hermione's door with a frown on his face. That was quite ironic considering the fact that his dreams seemed to have come true there inside before he left...in a hurry. He was berating himself for two reasons, which were simply the opposite of each other. One, he was angry at himself for leaving Hermione in the middle of a kiss--was he out of his mind? Two, he was beating himself up for even letting it get that far...and for being so weak to bare his heart like that. Hermione didn't need the trouble. She already had a boyfriend; that's that. She didn't need to have a lovesick puppy pining after her. Of course, Ron was the farthest anyone could be from a lovesick puppy, but it's no better than a jealous bulldog, now is it?

By the time he rounded the corner to Hermione's street he had moved on to Greg, the boyfriend, and was mentally mutilating his body. But Hermione's pained face kept interfering with this happy torture that he finally gave up and went back to beating himself up for being such a git--a slow working, cowardly, can't-control-himself, kisses-other-people's-girlfriends git! In truth, he was just overreacting.

Three blocks, two upturned garbage cans and several howling dogs later, Ron found himself in Harry's street. His steps suddenly quickened as he had an idea what to do with all his pent up rage and confusion. Wow, would he love to get sloshed and get into a fight with somebody. It sounded like such a great idea to him that he broke into a run towards Harry's apartment building. Not bothering with the elevator--not that he could operate it anyway--he climbed the stairs three at a time. Excited as he was to find himself within a stone's throw of his bestfriend, his absolute savior, his best mate that will listen to him whine and rant about Hermione, he absolutely forgot he had the luxury of apparating. When he was about to step onto the 3^rd floor--Harry's floor--he heard a faint giggling from the hallway. He stopped, alarmed. What if he came across two people snogging on the hallway? He didn't need reminding of snogging right now. He needed to see Harry! He just blurted out to Hermione that he loved her! It was a disaster! Armageddon was coming! He needed Harry! His subconscious was frantically flashing the word APPARATE in his mind. Of course, he couldn't see it. There never was a time when Ron thought deep enough to get what his subconscious was telling him. He was far too impatient. He wanted to punch somebody, kiss Hermione and talk to Harry all at the same time. If someone came barging down the stairs hitting Ron in the process, they'd see black for days.

Finally, Ron decided to take a peep in the hallway. His eyes almost popped out of its sockets. Harry was giggling like a schoolgirl while trying to snog this gorgeous--curvaceous too, thought Ron--redhead. Then something clicked inside his head. He rounded the corner and went barreling towards the two lovebirds. Needless to say, it was not the best of times for him to see Harry almost sucking all the air from Ginny's--yes, the youngest and only sister--lungs. He grabbed Harry from behind, ready to punch him, his fist already clenched from thinking about Hermione and that stupid...it was definitely bad timing.

"Ron, stop!" cried Ginny. She, of course, didn't need to because despite the difference in size, Ron and Harry were equally knowledgeable in hand-to-hand combat. One of the benefits of being trained as Defense Specialists. Ron was at a disadvantage due to all the tension in his body and within seconds Harry had him in an armlock.

"What the hell, mate?"

"I saw you kiss, Ginny!" Ron glowered. Harry colored slightly, but Ginny kept glaring at his tall brother. She was enjoying a perfectly good snog when he interrupted thank you very much! She was not happy.

"So what?" Ginny screamed. "That still doesn't excuse you pounding him into pieces!"

"He was kissing you!"

"I'm 21 years old! I'm certainly old enough to kiss whomever I want."

"No. You're not!"

"Oh, yes I am!"

"No, you're not!"

"Oh, get over yourself, Ron. I'm not a kid anymore!"

"Well..."

Harry watched the exchange between the two with a mix of amusement and concern. Finally, tired of the argument which didn't seem to be going anywhere, he shouted, "Okay, stop!" The two turned their flushed faces towards Harry. For a moment, Harry's confidence wavered. Two incredibly red Weasleys--not to mention the hair--did not look like a force to be reckoned with. "Umm...I'm sorry, Ron..." Harry faltered. Ginny frowned hurtfully at him. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Ginny and I. I absolutely deserve at least one good punch," he said determinedly. "Okay, give it your best shot." He offered his cheek and closed his eyes, bracing himself for impact.

Ginny looked at Harry disbelievingly, then turned to Ron, daring him to take a shot. Ron blinked at Harry. He wanted a fight, but not one where his opponent just stood stationary. He was perfectly happy venting on Ginny unreasonably, but Harry just had to be such a gentleman! He could smack him on the face just for that! Ron swallowed his pride and reached out to his bestfriend. "I'm not going to hit you, mate! Open your eyes."

Harry's sigh of relief was apparent as he opened his eyes. He was still looking at Ron closely when he realized there was a look of pain hidden on the surface of Ron's eyes. He suddenly realized there was something more to Ron's sudden outburst. He asked tentatively, "You alright?"

Ginny was getting very confused now, but let it go to male silliness. Ron just nearly hit Harry full in the face and he was actually asking Ron if he was okay!

Ron met Harry's eyes, masking his hurt. He wanted so much to replay this whole night and forget everything that happened. One disaster after another...he suddenly wished to just go home, get drunk and wallow in his own misery. Whining to Harry didn't seem like such a good idea anymore. He was sure Harry had something better to do. He cringed at the thought, but realized he really wasn't all that concerned about Ginny being with Harry. If there was any guy she would be lucky enough to have it would be Harry. And vice versa...he was aching at the thought that he, himself, wasn't a good enough match to Hermione. "I have to go. Sorry for interrupting you two..." He disapparated to his flat in a second, not bothering to listen to their reply. It was dark when he apparated in his bedroom. He changed into his pajamas, preparing for a long night. He splashed some water on his face, hoping the coldness would slap some sense and clarity into him. It didn't work. It just sent a shiver through his spine. That just worsened his mood. He made his way to the cupboard in the kitchen where he kept a bottle of Ogden's Firewhiskey. My savior, he thought.

Bottle in hand, Ron went to a couch in the living room anticipating a night of booze, misery and darkness. He noticed the figure of a small person lying on a fetal position in his couch. Alarmed, he came closer. He brought out his wand and put the Firewhiskey down in case a fight broke out. He didn't want his only bottle to break.

"Lumos," he said lighting up his wand to look closely at the figure. He stopped in shock and awe. It was Hermione. The glow of Ron's wand lit up her sleeping figure like an angelic vision. He smiled silently to himself. He felt so lucky to know this woman and be her friend. His heart expanded almost painfully with love and devotion. He sat down in front of her, staring at her face, closed eyes and silent mouth. He felt the aching urge to run his hand through her hair, cup her cheek and kiss her. But he didn't. He had more control than that, he told himself. He wouldn't make the same mistake again. He placed the wand on the table and settled himself on the floor, the bottle of Firewhiskey forgotten by a side table. Staring at Hermione was instantly the most appealing prospect for the night. After a while, he dozed off...

Ron awoke a few minutes after Hermione. It was 2 AM and both their bodies hardly felt comfortable in the floor or the couch. The image that greeted Ron took his breath away: Hermione looking at him face down from the couch, her face framed by brown curls, the light from the wand illuminating her dreamily. "Hi," she said with a small smile that tugged at Ron's heart.

Ron's smile showed against his will. Then, checking himself, he asked, "What are you doing here Hermione?"

Hermione expression softened, remembering what happened the night before. "You left without hearing me out. Wasn't that a little unfair?"

"I--"

"Why didn't you let me explain? I made the first move, but you're the one who apologized. I was both too confused and angry to speak! And trust you to leave me hanging like that!" Hermione seemed angry with him but Ron was staring her in the eyes and the expression on them was warm. He stayed silent hoping the ringing in his ears would stop. Hermione just looked so beautiful when she was all worked up!

Finally, he sighed. Loving Hermione was so painful it physically hurt. He knew he wasn't right for her. She could do so much better. But sometimes, he just wished...

"Ron!" He heard Hermione call out his name and it snapped him out of his reverie. He looked up. If Hermione glaring at him was an absolute turn on, he was definitely in trouble!

"Umm...yeah? What?"

"Were you even listening to me?"

"Of course I was listening to you! Hermione, you don't have to explain to me."

"I don't do I? Do you know why I kissed you?"

Ron looked slightly taken aback. He was so ready to put that off as Hermione slipping on her toes! Why can't she just leave it alone? He knew there was nothing more to it than her trying to kiss him on the cheek to reassure him or something like that. "What you did was a peck. I kissed you."

"Oh? I didn't think a tiny peck involved tongue!"

"Hermione!"

"What? Didn't you feel it? I certainly did."

"Okay, you know what? This conversation is getting out of hand."

"Getting out of hand! I haven't even started yet! Now sit down and let me explain."

Ron pondered this for a minute. Did he really want to hear it? If it would make her feel better sure. Damn it, the things he did for love. This was going to hurt, he mused. He sat down and faced her. She sat up straighter on the couch too. What an interesting picture they made, Ron looking up at Hermione. She would surely cherish that memory for a long time.

"Promise you won't go running off again, okay?" Hermione asked pleadingly.

"You're in my apartment, Hermione!" Ron declared impatiently. He wanted this over with.

"Well, there's always Harry's--"

"No, there's not. He's with Ginny."

"Oh?" Hermione said with a questioning eyebrow.

"I don't want to talk about it," Ron cut off on Hermione's train of thought. He waved his hand dismissively.

"If not Harry's, there's always the Burrow and..."

"Are you trying to get me to leave again? It's starting to work."

"No!"

"Good, then, stop analyzing me and start talking!"

"You don't have to be rude, Ron."

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I just have this bit of a problem of not having enough sleep!"

Hermione glared at Ron; Ron glared back. Their eyes told a different story altogether. They both sighed at the same time.

"Why do you always make things harder for me?"

Ron blanched. "I don't make things harder for you..." he said unbelievingly. He thought he was doing the opposite. "Do I?"

Hermione studied Ron carefully. "Yes, Ron," she replied softly. "You do."

"But I didn't want to. I was just...I thought I was trying to do what's best for you."

"Ron, one tip about women. They always like to talk, about everything! Even about awkward kisses, whether they have boyfriends or not."

Ron raised an eyebrow at her. Somehow he doubted that last part.

Hermione gave in. "Okay, maybe not everyone talks even about that. But I want to talk about it to you. You're my bestfriend, Ron. And we're old enough not to bring Harry into this."

"I--"

"I'm sure you want to as much as I do, but this is our problem, not his."

"I don't see a problem here. You kissed me. I kissed you. We both apologized. It's all over. Can we just go to sleep now?" Sitting on the floor was getting very uncomfortable for Ron. Hermione actually wanted to talk to him about this. He cringed at the idea.

For a moment, Hermione looked hurt. "You love me."

You said it, you stupid git. Now be a man, his mind screamed. He chuckled despite himself, remembering. Of all the stupid..."Yes I did, didn't I?"

"And? That's all you can say about it?"

"It was pretty clear what I said, Hermione."

"So, it was true then?"

Ron stared at Hermione. She didn't believe him? He searched in her eyes for some sign of...something. Maybe she was just joking, trapping him into saying it again. Maybe she actually didn't believe it. Maybe he could turn it all back. Maybe he should just be a man and stand up for himself. It was just Hermione. Right, just Hermione! He was so dead. "Yes..." he said almost against his will. He agreed it felt better just letting it out without any expectations. It was such a burden to carry. Thinking about the consequences was just too tiring. She was right, they were bestfriends. They might as well just face facts and move on from there. "I know you don't feel the same for me. And I meant what I said, Greg is perfect for you. He is your exact male version except he's less serious about everything. He's your complement."

Hermione didn't look at Ron. He was right, of course. And for once, she understood what he was trying to say. "I know...he's a wonderful guy, more than I could have ever hoped for."

Ron looked crestfallen, but he had his head bowed. He was about to say something when Hermione continued.

"But there's one thing wrong with him." Hermione got Ron's attention now. "Well, actually two things..." she continued softly. "I'm not in love with him and...he's not you."

Ron looked confused for a minute, then realization dawned on him. He strained to see some hint of humor or teasing in Hermione's eyes. The emotions that he saw in there were too good to be true and he suddenly couldn't breath. He tried to keep a straight face and failed miserably. "Hermione, you can't..." he said with great effort.

Hermione frowned. Can't what? "Can't what?"

"Be in love with me..."

"Why not, Ron?" she was trying to be tender with him. He had to understand. She had kept it for so long, it was becoming too painful. She knew he needed to hear it from her too.

"What about Greg?"

Hermione sighed. "I've been feeling so lonely and frustrated...and he was there. He does make me happy. He makes such great and interesting company." She paused unsurely. "I don't know..."

"Do you love him?"

"I love you, Ron."

"Please stop saying that."

"Ron, you're really starting to get on my nerves. Why the hell not?"

"You're committed to someone else, Hermione."

"I know that. But that doesn't make me love you any less."

Ron couldn't find an answer to this. It sounded so good to his ears that he didn't really want to answer it. Three times she said I love you. His heart was soaring, but his head was a little doubtful. He reached out for Hermione's hand and said. "Okay, Hermione. I believe you."