Forget Me Not

Forget Me Not

Ron sat in the empty muggle café, his headphones blaring. Ever since his father had given him the muggle device called a "C.D player" he had grown rather attached to it, and was rarely seen without one. His mother always teased him about having headphones glued to his head. At this particular time he was listening to "Pretty Woman", which was one of his favorite muggle songs. It was very fitting because right when it started he spotted Hermione walking down the street. In his mind no woman could ever compare to her. Of course she didn't know that, and Ron was much too scared to tell her. Some might call it shyness, but in this ce it was purely stupidity. Everyone knew they had fancied each other since first year, everyone except them, that is.

At first she didn't see him as she entered the café, although it wasn't easy to miss him as it was practically deserted. He noted with a smile that she was always the prettiest when she didn't know anyone was looking. He remembered fondly how he used to gaze at her while she was peering over large textbooks back at Hogwarts. She always got cross when he stared, "Ron, stop looking at me it's distracting!" Then she'd blush and turn away trying, but not succeeding, to hide a smile.

"Hermione?" he called, trying to get her attention.

"Ron?" She looked over at the familiar redhead and she realized she hadn't seen in over a year. "It's so good to see you!"

"I know. You look great!" Ron said giving her a hug.

"Thanks, you too. Why were you hiding in the corner?" She smiled teasingly.

Ron laughed, "I don't know, sometimes being out in the open gets frustrating. I felt like being invisible."

"Pity Harry isn't here then." He knew she was only referring to Harry's invisibility cloak, but the name still caused the conversation to stop abruptly. Both of them shuddered; it wasn't a name commonly used anymore. The name Harry Potter was once spoken elegantly with the utmost reverence, and now it was spewed like poison. It was like saying Voldemort; only more hatred was intoned. Ron quickly changed the topic; neither of them desired a walk down memory lane.

"How's medi-witch training? Not too intense I hope."

"Oh you know me, there isn't much I can't handle." Ron nodded in assent. That much was definitely true, Hermione was one of the most competent people he knew, second only to his mother. "How about you Ron?" she asked, "Filling McGonagall's shoes can't be easy."

"Yeah far from it. Now I know why she was so bitter toward us." Hermione laughed lightly and gestured for the waiter. He came quickly and she ordered an espresso. Ron struggled for words; it wasn't easy to make small talk after all they had endured together. At the same time, most of the things they'd lived through were unmentionable.

"So..." Even Hermione, who always had something to say, seemed at a loss for the right words. The last time they had spoken had been at Harry's funeral, which was over a year ago. "Are you seeing anyone?" Hermione bit her lip, she tried to make the question casual, but they both knew it was said in earnest.

"Why so interested?" Ron cocked an eyebrow teasingly.

She smiled and said, "So that's how you're going to be? Fine, two can play that game."

"Tis true milady, but none can play it as well as I!"

"Oh Ron, you're hopeless!" Hermione tried to sound indignant but she ended up giving into the burst of giggles that threatened to erupt. "Where did you learn that?"

"Some book about a round table, and Merlin and such. It was rather good." Hermione laughed again. She'd read it several times; it was a favorite of hers, although she didn't bother telling Ron the title.

"Shhhh!" The waiter looked at them and shook his head.

Ron lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper, "I don't see why he cares if we're loud. It is a café after all!"

Hermione nodded and said equally as quietly, "There's no one here! Well, if he wants to be like that, we should just leave. It's unbearably dull, anyway."

"Alright my place or yours?" Ron winked playfully, but they both knew he meant it.

"Isn't yours closer?" Hermione looked at him meaningfully and he realized that she was serious.

"Seriously?"

"Unless you don't want to..." Hermione looked embarrassed; was he rejecting her?

"Are you kidding? I've been waiting for you to say that since I hit puberty." They laughed and strode out of the café. Ron discreetly slipped the waiter a 10-pound note.

"Keep the change," He whispered, feeling incredibly happy. He usually messed everything up when it came to girls, at least his brothers and Harry always said so. He tried to stop thinking about Harry; he wasn't going to let Harry screw things up for him, not anymore.

The waiter nodded appreciatively and murmured the routine, "Thank you, have a nice day."

Hermione entered Ron's apartment hesitantly; she still wasn't certain she was making the right decision. After the Great War and Harry's betrayal, she couldn't take losing another friend. Ron was one of her only friends that hadn't died or betrayed her. Dating often screwed up relationships and she was determined not to let that come to pass this time. He hung up her coat, gently slipping it off her shoulders. They both stood there for a second as if unsure what to do, neither of them wanted to be the first to cross the boundary of friendship.

Ron timidly approached her and he hesitated a second before kissing her. It was a soft kiss, and not a very good one. Hermione could tell by his awkward fumbling that Ron was either very inexperienced or he hid his talents well. Although it wasn't like she had gotten around much either, her years as a teenager were clouded by the war and that didn't allow much time for socializing with the opposite sex. She returned his kiss with increasing urgency. They were only twenty-five, and their hormones had never settled down. He backed her up onto the couch, his mouth never leaving hers. He was aggressive yet gentle at the same time, Hermione observed, Ron had always been rather contradictive. She was suddenly afraid. She was no virgin, but this was Ron, her childhood companion. Then Hermione's body took over for her mind, and she and Ron were lost in a sea of pleasure.

The next morning Hermione woke up and rubbed her eyes. At first she didn't realize where she was, and then a certain redhead nestled up against her arm. She jumped up immediately, very startled.

"What the..." and then it all came back. "Shit!" Hermione muttered as she got out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake up Ron. She carefully pulled on her underwear, and then began searching for the rest of her clothes. Ron rolled over, but to Hermione's relief did not awaken. Soon she was ready to go. She couldn't find her shirt so she donned one of Ron's instead. Then she hastily scribbled a note and left it on the pillow she'd slept on the previous night.

Ron woke up around 10 as usual. He didn't have much to do over summer holidays but lounge around and dread the start of the school year. He grumbled and rolled over, and then he saw the note on the pillow.

Dear Ron,

Sorry I couldn't wait until you woke up (you sleepyhead!), but I had to get to class. See you tonight?

Love, Hermione

Xoxo

Ron smiled; he loved how Hermione had put a question mark after "See you tonight", it was as if she was unsure if he wanted to be with her. Of course, he had never wanted anything more.

He sighed and pushed all thoughts of Hermione from his mind. He wasn't much of a cook, and it took lot of concentration to make pancakes and bacon, a favorite of his.

After he finished eating, and was reading the paper, he looked at the date, July 24. It was the anniversary of Harry's betrayal, he realized with a twinge of sadness. He wondered if Hermione had noticed, and knowing her, she probably had. He looked out of the window and not for the first time, he thought of the three of them as children, and how happy they had been. Harry, Ron and Hermione, they had been the trio, the dream team, and their friendship was the envy of all. Even Malfoy had wished he had friendship like they had, although who wouldn't when your only friends were Crabbe and Goyle. His thoughts traveled to Draco Malfoy all alone in his cell in Azkaban. It must be horrible to be in solitude, with only dementors for company, Ron thought, feeling sympathy for his old nemesis. He wondered if Malfoy would renounce Voldemort if he had a chance of getting out. He probably would, so would the rest of them, scum have no loyalties. Ron wondered if he would forsake Dumbledore if it were he in Azkaban. No, Ron thought, I would never betray my friends and family, not like he did, not like Harry did.

He smiled as he saw the people crossing the street. Little children, their parents, old people with their canes, blind people, and deaf people all living together, smiling as if nothing was wrong with their world. Did they see the world with rose coloured glasses or did they simply ignore the realities of life? Maybe they were truly happy; some people were bound to be. He thought of Hermione, was she happy? He hoped so, but somehow he doubted it. The war had scarred them, as they had to kill, an instinct you are born with, but not encouraged to use. At fifteen years old, you aren't expected to take on adult Death Eaters in combat, even if you are brave. The children's youth had been clouded by hate and fear, and some things could never be the same.

Perhaps he and Hermione could overcome their ill destined fate. They could start a life together, have children, and create their own Burrow. Happiness is never out of reach; you just have to look for it. Suddenly it dawned on him, Ron didn't need happiness. It was just an adjective after all, a simple adjective, like vulgar, stupid, and ugly. Who needs adjectives when you can have nouns, like tea, butterbeer, and pumpkin pastie? The only noun Ron really needed was Hermione, but a pumpkin pastie would sure be nice.