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Ron took deep gasping breaths. In, out. In, out.
He’d feel a little more self-conscious about it, but he figured having killed a part of You-Know-Who’s soul that had been influencing him on and off again for two months was cool enough to make up for it. Much as he’d like to laugh it off, the bloody thing knew right where to strike. Ron couldn’t claim to be the most self-aware person, but the fear of Harry and Hermione getting together and realizing they didn’t need or want him has been one that has haunted Ron for years. So he’ll take his time, and pass it off as the exertion getting to him.
Unfortunately, Harry didn’t seem to get the memo.
“After you left, she cried herself to sleep every night for weeks.” Harry it seemed, had no desire to pull any punches. The tone Harry used was perhaps the more confusing part, largely because it appeared Harry himself didn’t know how to feel. It was this mixture of anger, reflection, and comfort. Ron almost wished Harry would pick one and stick with it, it would certainly make a response easier to think of. In the end, Ron settled for playing it safe.
“Did she?” Harry nodded and focused his eyes on nothing in particular. Reminiscing Ron guessed.
“Er… she didn’t want me to hear it. Would always wait until she thought I was asleep. So don’t mention it to her if you can help it yeah? Anyways, don’t think you aren’t important to her. Or both of us really. Don’t know what my life would be like without you in it mate.” And Ron did know that. He really did. It was just hard sometimes to believe it as well. They were both brilliant in their own ways, and Ron was… well Ron was just Ron. So, Ron nodded, willing to pretend it wasn’t a problem. That Harry and Hermione, that they were a they, that their relationship, didn’t make Ron jealous or worry or anything else a best mate shouldn’t feel about his mates also being mates. But a small part of Ron couldn’t just let it rest know that it was being addressed, now that it was already out there, already half-asked.
“And the two of you?” There. Ron said it. The question, the issue that he couldn’t bring himself to mention for three years now. The reason he couldn’t ever bring himself to ask Harry about what to do with Hermione.
“Er, the two of us? I guess we’re an us now. I mean, I’d hate to speak for Hermione, and we haven’t really sat down and talked about it. But… we’ve done some stuff. Said some things. We were both really… lonely after, and it just seemed right I guess. If it’s a problem then I can back off I guess, I mean I think I’ve always known that you two were interested in each other. But, I guess I have to admit that I really don’t want to mate.”
And there it was. The confirmation of Ron’s most secret fears and greatest jealousy. A dagger straight to the heart is what it felt like. As much as it hurt, and as much as part of Ron leapt at hearing Harry would back off if Ron asked, Ron knew to choose that would be a horrible thing. Would make Ron an even more horrible friend. And Ron knew that wasn’t who he wanted to be. Instead, he went the other route, and hoped for the best.
“Good for you mate, I always thought you two would be good together.”
Later, after apologies had been made, explanations had been given, and tentative peaces had been reached, Ron laid down in his bunk. Listening to the rustles of clothes against sheets and the whispers of his two mates as they prepared for sleep. Confident that they both eventually drifted off, Ron let himself collapse. He cried himself to sleep that night, and he suspected it wouldn’t be the last.
Ron decided after much reflection that the most heartbreaking part of it all, was just how little seemed to have changed between Harry and Hermione. As much as Ron appreciated them not rubbing it in his face by snogging everywhere or being ridiculous in some other way, this ever so slight transition was even worse. To Ron it screamed that Harry and Hermione would have inevitably ended up together if so little needed to change between them for them to be in a romantic relationship. If what they had didn’t need to change, then Ron never really stood a chance, and he had just be deluding himself the whole time. In fact, if Harry hadn’t told Ron about the change, Ron might not have noticed the difference at all (that’s a dirty lie, he would have noticed and driven himself mad about what the implications were). Just a slight touch to the elbow there, an ignoring of personal space there, a moment of eye contact too long every so often. It was small, the differences between now and before.
You’d think small would mean there was little to worry about. But Ron knew better. Say what you will about his parents, but Ron had yet to meet a couple he thought more in love. And Ron’s parents had always shown their love in the small things, not the big. It was the difference Ron had always seen when comparing all the here today gone tomorrow couples in Hogwarts to his parents. The Hogwarts couples always got caught up in the big and public things, like Lavender with the necklace she sent. But Ron’s parents tended to not worry about things like that between the two of them. It’s why they eloped after all.
So yes, it was how little seemed to have changed that hurt the most.
Somehow, in all the madness of that night with the sword and the quiet that followed in the days after, Ron realized he’d yet to talk to Hermione about the whole thing. Figuring that it was best to go ahead and face the music, Ron went to talk to Hermione once she was off of guard duty.
“I reckon I ought to apologize for leaving you.” Hermione’s eyebrows jumped and she looked away from the book she was reading to survey him (a three on the distracted Hermione scale, Ron was rather impressed with himself).
“I’m quite sure you’ve already done that Ronald.” Ah yes, the distinctly unimpressed and scathing tone Hermione uses when gearing herself up for an argument. Ron would complain, but he figures that it’s a step up from the icy tone she’s used up to this point. Probably the element of surprise working in his favor.
“Well almost, but this time I’m apologizing for leaving you specifically, instead of the horcrux hunt.” Hermione’s eyebrows retreated from their raised positions and descended into furrows instead. Ron worries that his element of surprise has now worn off.
“And pray tell why you should apologize to me specifically?” Ron would grin if he wasn’t afraid of having it hexed off his face. He had prepared for this question.
“I already apologized to Harry by himself, didn’t I? And before I left I know you were bringing a lot of your worries to me so as to not stress Harry out more. Can’t have felt good when I left.” Emotional range of a teaspoon his arse, Ron had this apology in the bag.
“You did, did you? Well that’s good to know. And Harry told you about the crying didn’t he? That’s why we’re having this conversation.” Ron would deny any accusations that he panicked, because Ron Weasley does not panic over a simple apology, no sir. But, he might have panicked a little.
“What? Harry tell me that you cried? He would never! I am insulted that you think I needed to know about you crying to know I should apologize, insulted I say.” That might have come out a little more rushed than would needed to make it believable. Anndd there goes the eyebrow. Ron always hated to admit defeat. “Ok, so he may have mentioned the crying. But don’t tell him I told you that! He didn’t want you to know.” Hermione snorted. By Merlin Ron had missed that snort.
“Yes Ron, I’ll make sure not let Harry know that you failed to not let me know that he failed to not let you know that I failed to not let Harry know that I cried. Honestly, you two can be rather silly.” And just for a moment, Ron can almost pretend that things are the way they’ve always been. Three best mates, facing certain death and schoolhouse troubles with the same degree of difficulty, with perhaps a suitably charged moment or four between two of the trio. But only for a moment, because in the next Hermione’s eyes harden. “I’ll forgive you for that so long as you know that it’s forgiven and not forgotten. And that the only reason I’m making it that easy is that in the grand scheme of things my hurt feelings don’t matter that much, and things worked out for me in the end anyways.”
Ron closed his eyes. Partly to hide just how much he was hurting, and partly to just remember the moment before when everything felt like how he wished it could be.
“Yes, I know.” Ron kept his eyes closed, but he was sure that Hermione was scanning and scrutinizing his whole face, hell, his whole body, for the sign of a lie. But she wouldn’t find one. Ron was being completely honest. He did know.
“Well… good. So long as we’re clear.” At this Ron opened his eyes, just so he could catch a glance of the rare picture of a discomfited and unsure Hermione Granger.
“I suppose I haven’t talked about that to you either. You and Harry that is.” And that was all it took to send Hermione right back into her defensive mode. Ron really didn’t mean to do that.
“What’s there to talk about? It none of your business.” That one hurt for a different reason. What did it say about Ron that Hermione was expecting a fight here?
“I know it’s not. But you two are my best mates, I reckon I should wish you well or something.” Hermione’s shoulder loosened a little at that. But only a little.
“You might, but I don’t think either of us really think you need to. We’re not conceited enough to not recognize why that could be a bit much.” And yet another thing that was finally there in the air if Ron cared to acknowledge it. This time Ron figured it was best to let dead things lie.
“I haven’t the foggiest what you’re talking about. I always knew you two would be good together.”
Ron liked to think that for all his faults, he was a pretty good best mate. When the battle of Hogwarts was about to be started, he made sure to remind Hermione about the house elves (he got a fierce hug, carefully maneuvered around the highly deadly fangs they were carrying). When the room of requirement was going down in flames, he saved his most hated rival (he got a crooked grin, covered with soot, one could almost think they were playing a prank instead of a game of life and death). When them came across Tonks’ corpse on their way to the whomping willow, he guarded over them, as Hermione kissed Harry’s tears away and pulled him to his feet (he got a squeeze from both hands while helped them over some rubble). Ron might not have got the girl of his dreams. He figured he was ok with that so long as got to make sure that his best mates would be good together for a long time to come.