Fate Always Finds a Way

Chapter 18

Hermione's mind raced; her face flushing. The mere idea of telling Ron that she couldn't be with him anymore made her feel like the most awful witch in the world.

They had been doomed from the start of their relationship, she had known that. Life without Remus felt empty; being with Ron had made that easier and frankly made her life feel fuller—well, sort of.

Yes, she should have told him the truth at the very start. She should have told him months ago that they couldn't become involved because she was in love with another man and therefore, would be only using him. However, that was not what she did.

So here she was: Six months later and only three months away from her wedding day, lying to the man she was engaged to—a man she loved deeply, but would never be in love with—moments away from breaking his heart.

The thought briefly occurred to her of security. What if Remus didn't take her back? She couldn't lose both men in the same day. It would be too devastating. She would go and talk to Remus first, solidifying them and then proceed to tell Ron that they were in fact over.

She played with the hem on her dark lavender blouse. She pulled at it, maybe it would gobble her up and she wouldn't have to face her problems at all.

She shook her head of curls. They were the biggest they had been in a long time due to her overly stressed state. Stress caused Hermione to perspire more than she would on average and as a result, her hair puffed up like a tent with the humid temperature of her body. She shook her head another time, harder, ridding the thoughts of taking the easy way out.

She stopped abruptly upon seeing the site of the young witch in her full-length mirror in front of her. The face simply scowled back at her, disgusted by the jumble of terrible thoughts swimming around in her head.

How could she even think of continuing down this horrid path? When had she become this person? She had become someone she hardly recognized. If the Remus that met Hermione aboard the Hogwarts Express at the start of her third year saw her now, he would most certainly not like what she had become.

The witch glared back at her reflection, challenging her inner-self back to the surface. She was a disgrace to the house of Godric Gryffindor—they were said to be amongst the bravest of witches and wizards and she had been acting like a coward. Telling Ron that things were not going to work out between them was certainly going to be one of the most difficult things she would ever have to do, but she was finally ready.

xxx

Ron and Hermione sat with their legs turned in toward each other's on a weathered green bench out in the Burrow's backyard.

"Will you at least say something?" She asked gently, finally breaking the silence between them that had dragged on entirely too long.

He looked up at her from where his eyes had been focused on the ground. "I don't really know what to say, 'Mione. I feel like the wind's been knocked out of me."

She sighed heavily, putting herself in his shoes the best she could. "I'm so—so sorry Ron—so sorry," she said, placing a kind hand on the top of his that rested in his lap. "You have no idea how absolutely awful I feel."