It was peaceful now. A calm wind blew down the London streets and the clouds in the sky threatened a light misty rain today. Ron headed down the busy sidewalk towards a familiar red phone booth. He closed himself inside and entered 62442 after which a pleasant voice addressed him and sent him down into the Ministry of Magic.

These days were both simpler and more complicated than the ones that Ron, Harry, and Hermione had just recovered from, the days that were full of threats and sadness as well as the most difficult journey that any of them had or would ever know. They had defeated Lord Voldemort, sending him to his death, and all of his followers, save a few who had fled the country and gone into hiding, were accounted for in Azkaban prison.

For Ron, the days were simpler because he had a plan, an order to his life, and a way to survive that didn’t involve holding a wand at all times and only rounding a corner after sending out a curse or two. But his days were also more complicated. During their school years and the half a year that followed during the war, Ron had been able to convince himself that there was never a right time to tell Hermione about his feelings for her. They were always running and studying and learning as much as they could so that they would be prepared for the final battle. They never had the time to work out their relationship and talk about what they wanted for their futures.

But now things were different. Ron had promised himself that he wouldn’t let too much time go by before telling Hermione everything. Once the dust settled from the war and everyone was back on their feet again, there would be no excuses and no stopping him. But there was a reason now, and his name was Tim Ridgefield.

Tim was a rich bloke from Balleycastle, Ireland who had an Auror for a father and a healer for a mother. There was really no reason not to like him. He was affable enough and produced fairly good work for the Ministry. He had a love for Quidditch, though for the wrong team as far as Ron was concerned (his home team was the Balleycastle Bats). But if that had been all that factored in to Ron’s liking of the man, there would be no stopping them from at least being civil to each other and even chatting at work from time to time. Unfortunately, there was a factor that overruled all the rest, and that was Tim’s interest in Hermione.

As Ron entered the Ministry today, however, Tim was no where to be found in his thoughts. He smiled as he made his way down to the research offices where Hermione, Harry, and himself were all happily employed. They had decided on the positions together, realizing that they wouldn’t be happy anywhere else but with each other. And it had worked out perfectly. They all got to do the things they loved the most and got to see each other for the majority of every day. And with as much variety as the job offered, they never endured a single dull moment, except maybe when they had to submit their reports at the end of the quarter to the Minister. But the Minister was Ron’s father Arthur, so Ron often slacked off on the paperwork, knowing that his father would shake his head and lecture Ron about the importance of the reports, but honestly, he wouldn’t care one bit as he hated going through every detail of the routine paperwork anyway.

Hermione worked with magical creatures on an almost daily basis. She helped research breeds of creatures and types of plants, but she also spent a lot of time decoding things, much like Ron’s brother Bill. Hermione loved symbols and calculations, while Ron would rather eat more slugs than have to look at one symbol, much less translate a whole ten feet worth of them.

Ron mostly worked with useful spell development, though all three of them did this nearly every day. Ron enjoyed coming up with new ways to do old spells and with creating new spells for complex tasks that had required multiple sets of spells beforehand. As Hermione said, his laziness had actually been put to good use in this instance as he had created spells for things like tying one’s shoes while simultaneously folding down the socks.

More recently, Ron was working with brooms and with improving their flight. Hermione had been very proud of him the day before when he had made a fascinating breakthrough involving different materials that could be used as bristles on the brooms. She had been so proud, in fact, that she had suggested that Ron come along with a team that was heading down to a town near Chudleigh to conduct some experiments with a group of amateur Quidditch players that had discovered a few acres of trees that produced extra-long pine needles which they were now using in their own thrown together brooms. Hermione was headed south as well, but for a different reason.

The team that she had asked Ron to join was actually headed to Chudleigh for several reasons (not one of which could have possibly included the fact that they would be staying mere miles from the Chudley Cannons/Wimbourne Wasps game…). Hermione was working on a new form of transfiguration with Tim Ridgefield and Katie Bourne, a research analyst who had nearly nine years experience with transfiguration. Ron would be working with Harry and a few blokes from Scotland who had come down to share some findings and mostly to play a few games with the new brooms that were to be experimented with during the trip. They would leave tomorrow, and this was the reason why Ron was in such a joyous mood today. He had just gotten the room reservations (and Cannons’ tickets…) for the weekend by owl this morning.

“Good morning, Hermione!” he said with enthusiasm as he stepped through her open office door.

“Hiya,” Hermione smiled at him, then turned back to the stacks and stacks of rune-filled papers on her desk and resumed her translating. Ron grabbed a rolling chair from the corner of her room and slid onto it backwards, the back rest of the chair sitting against his chest. He took off his jacket and draped it over the chair, scooting over to Hermione’s desk and looking over her shoulder. He found a particularly interesting diagram of a cat turning into a bird which precisely turned into a mouse and ran off the edge of the page. He reached out for the page, but Hermione swatted his hand away.

“Stop messing…”

Ron grinned. “What is it?”

“I told you,” said Hermione, her quill never leaving the translation she was working on. “It’s double transfiguration.”

“It’s brilliant.” Ron spun around in his chair and Hermione’s lips curved into a small smile. “But you know what’s even more brilliant at this exact moment?”

“Hm?” Hermione was listening, but Ron decided she wasn’t paying quite enough attention and spun her chair around to face him. For a minute, she stared at him with annoyance, but when she saw the excited smile on his face, she rolled her eyes and tilted her head to the side in amusement. “What is it then?”

Ron held out the envelope that contained the Chudley Cannons tickets and their room reservations. Hermione took the envelope from him and opened it, surprised to find the tickets inside, but not so surprised about the room reservations that she was expecting to receive today anyhow.

“How did you get these?” she asked, holding the Cannons’ tickets.

“We’re staying right next to the pitch, Hermione! I told them that we were coming in to town and before I could even explain myself they assumed that we were… well, that me and you were coming… together…”

Ron quickly brushed past this part of his explanation, blushing slightly, but regaining his previous enthusiasm.

“But I think they gave us some sort of special deal because we got an upgrade or something for our rooms… we’re staying at this lodge by the pitch… I could throw a stone out my window and hit Galvin Gudgeon in between the eyes during practice if I wanted to!” Ron nearly jumped out of his chair with excitement.

“Galvin who?” Hemione asked, amused.

“Galvin Gudgeon! The Cannons’ seeker!” Ron actually did jump out of his chair this time.

“Oh,” Hermione laughed. Harry chose this glorious moment to step up to Hermione’s door.

“Did the Cannon’s actually win a game, Ron?” And Harry chuckled as Ron rounded on him, a dead expression on his face.

“I’m laughing Harry. I’m really laughing.” Hermione did laugh.

“Brilliant!” shouted Harry, suddenly changing his tune and brushing past Ron into Hermione’s office. “You got them!” Harry picked up the tickets from Hermione’s desk and studied them excitedly.

“I was just telling Hermione… We got these wicked rooms at the lodge next to the pitch, Harry! We can watch them practice at midnight.”

Harry snorted. “What rubbish. Midnight practice before the game. What a silly tradition.”

“Harry. You take it back. Cannon tradition is bloody perfect.”

“Exactly why they hit the jackpot in wins every year,” and Harry ducked as Ron’s balled up jacket flew towards him at top speed.

Tim Ridgefield chose this particular moment to join the party now taking place in Hermione’s office, but four people was just one too many for Hermione and she finally stood up.

“Okay! Enough! I have work to do. Everyone out!” Hermione shooed Ron and Harry towards the door. That’s when Ron spotted Tim and stood completely still, looking down at Tim. Tim was a good four inches shorter than Ron, but still towered over Hermione.

The moment passed very quickly though and didn’t have time to escalate into a full blown scowl from Ron. Hermione was much too quick at shoving the guys out of her office and into the hallway. Ron broke eye contact with Tim and only backed the rest of the way out of Hermione’s office after Tim retreated to the small, open common room across the hall. Hermione hardly noticed Ron’s discomfort as she turned back into her office and resumed her position at her desk.

Ron finally headed into his office which shared a wall with Hermione’s. Harry’s was on the other side of Hermione’s and also shared one wall with hers. Tim’s office was quite a ways down the hallway, all the way on the other side of the large common area where experimenting and testing took place. But in order to get to Tim’s office from Hermione’s and vice versa, one must pass Harry’s office. From his own office, Ron had no way to tell when Tim was on the way up for a visit, so Ron often found himself wandering around Harry’s office mid-day, keeping one eye focused on Harry’s open doorway so that he could spot Tim on the way up and head him off.

The problem wasn’t just that Tim was interested in Hermione. It was that Hermione also seemed to be at least somewhat interested in Tim and now had been out with him several times. Ron remembered the first time so well, even though every time hurt almost as badly…

---

It had been only a couple weeks or so since they had recovered fully from their injuries from the final battle and had gotten settled into their positions at the Ministry when Tim had first started coming around. Ron was happy with the comfortable closeness that he had with Hermione and had really convinced himself that he was close to something, close to telling her everything. But when Tim first showed up at Hermione’s office door while Ron was working with her on a project, he began to realize that he might be losing his chance, or that it might have already been lost.

Tim ignored Ron completely and asked Hermione to come and help him with something. Ron was very uneasy about the situation in general, but Hermione left the room quickly, giving Ron no time to question anything. Ron stayed in her office for the first half hour, pacing occasionally, but mostly just trying to distract himself from the fact that time seemed to be passing endlessly without any sign of her returning. He convinced himself that he wouldn’t ordinarily have been this jealous, but he had seen Tim talking to Hermione at lunch several times and had noticed the way Tim looked at her across the room. It wasn’t friendly at all… Ron should know as he had tried to hide these looks and subtle indications of something more from Hermione for years now.

Ron finally made his way into Harry’s room and took up pacing the floor there until Harry returned a few minutes later from a test he had been doing in the main common room. Harry stared, puzzled, as Ron continued to pace the room, oblivious to Harry standing in the doorway.

“You are going to walk a hole in my rug,” Harry announced. Ron didn’t stop pacing. He only looked up for a moment at Harry before returning his gaze to the wall in front of him. “Seriously, Ron, what are you doing?” But Ron was in no mood to explain the situation and simply started grumbling to himself.

“Stupid Ridgefield… who does he think… and coming in there like that… I’m sitting right there… git… stupid git…”

Harry moved past Ron towards his desk. Harry wasn’t done questioning Ron, but Tim passed by Harry’s open door with Hermione, and the conversation between Harry and Ron, or lack of one, was abruptly halted. Ron lunged for the door and stuck his head out into the hallway, watching as Tim and Hermione turned and disappeared into Hermione’s office.

Before Ron even had the chance to head next door to Hermione’s office and interrupt whatever it was that they were doing, Tim emerged from the office and brushed past Ron, not even noticing the hatred on Ron’s face. Hermione then came out of her office and headed into the small common room across from her office. Ron followed her in, not sure what he was planning to actually do about anything.

“So what did he want?” asked Ron, trying to sound as casual as possible, but it wasn’t working too well.

“Not much,” and Hermione reached up into a cabinet for a snack.

“Not much? You were gone nearly an hour, Hermione!” And that was the end of Ron trying to sound casual. Ron stood in the doorway so that no one else could come in and interrupt their conversation.

“What’s wrong with you? We were going over spell formulas. What did you think I was going to say?” Hermione closed the cabinet with a slight bang and stepped towards the door that Ron was currently blocking.

“Spell formulas?”

“Yes! Now can I please go back to work?” Hermione pushed past Ron and retreated to her office. Ron stood standing in the doorway, halfway blocking it, for the next few minutes, until finally, someone needed to go in for a drink, and he was forced to leave the hallway and head back into his office.

Ron didn’t feel like the conversation was over, but he realized he also needed to be sure he didn’t burst into Hermione’s office making accusations when he didn’t have his words sorted out yet and when he honestly had no right to make them. Ron may not have come very far from Hogwarts, but he knew now that it was best to think things through just a little more before speaking than he used to. Although he often found that given the opportunity, he threw this little bit of insight to the wind and stormed in wherever he pleased, saying whatever was on his mind, whether or not it was appropriate or correct to be saying it.

An hour passed by, and Ron had been very impatient. He had wanted to catch Hermione on her way out so that he could be sure to get an opportunity to talk to her privately about Tim. He felt like the conversation could end no other way than in a row, and he would prefer not to have the whole research team watching them like the last time.

But Ron never had the chance to talk to Hermione. He left his office for the restroom and by the time he returned, she was gone. He went straight to Harry’s room to find out where she went, hoping that she had gone home for the night and wasn’t with Tim.

“Harry! Hermione left then?”

“Yeah, she left. I’m leaving now too actually.”

“Right,” and Ron was more relieved than anything. At least she wasn’t with Tim…

Ron and Harry entered Harry’s flat and spent a while discussing Quidditch before Harry had the idea to break out the old chess board (and a couple bottles of fire whiskey). As they talked, Ron realized that it just wasn’t the same without Hermione and was about to Apparate over to her flat to bring her over to Harry’s when Harry stood up, an odd expression on his face.

“Um, Ron… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Ron kept putting his jacket and shoes on, disregarding Harry’s comment.

“Course it is. We don’t have to keep playing chess, right? We’ll just finish up this game and then we can get some butterbeers or something…”

Ron moved towards Harry’s front door, but Harry had no choice now but to stop him.

“Ron… she’s not home.”

“What do you mean? Why not?” Ron was vaguely worried now, but mostly just curious at this point.

“Well, I think she went out for the night.” Harry tried to speak slowly and calmly, but it made no difference.

“What do you mean, out?” Ron stood completely still, staring at Harry, waiting for his next words like it was life or death.

“Ron, you know we aren’t her only friends.”

“What are you talking about?!” Ron still didn’t move an inch, but his fists seemed to be clenching just a bit.

“Ron…”

“Did she… Harry… Where did she go?”

“She went to dinner.”

“What?! With who?!” Ron knew what was coming.

“You know, that guy in our team… Tim Ridgefield.” Harry knew that the reaction would not be good, but he had no idea just how bad it would be.

Ron nearly shoved Harry out of the way as he stomped furiously across the living room.

“Bloody hell… That sodding git!” Ron ripped his jacket off and slammed it down to the floor. He pushed hair out of his eyes and paced as Harry slowly stepped towards the middle of the room.

“Ron…” but Harry didn’t know what to say. He had never seen Ron like this before. He had seen him upset at the Yule Ball fourth year and had seen what he could only assume was jealousy when Hermione had announced that she would be going with McLaggen to Slughorn’s Christmas party sixth year, but none of those times compared to this.

“Harry… I…” and suddenly Ron stopped pacing and slumped into the arm chair next to Harry’s sofa. Ron sat in silence for a few moments, looking down, but not seeming to focus on anything.

Harry slowly sat on the sofa to Ron’s right and waited, no idea how to react to Ron’s sudden change in emotion.

“There’s nothing I can do is there.” Ron ran a shaky hand over his hair, brushing it out of his face again. He reached over to the side table for a bottle of fire whiskey. Ron opened the bottle and took a quick, but large, drink.

Harry simply sat frozen in silence, wondering if Ron was about to tell him something more personal than he ever had before… but the silence continued for so long that it became excruciatingly uncomfortable, Ron only moving once in a while to take a long drink from his bottle. Finally, Ron spoke in a hoarse voice.

“It’s over isn’t it.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“What?” But Harry thought maybe he knew exactly what Ron meant.

“I thought I had a chance,” Ron said so quietly that Harry wondered if he had even meant to say it out loud.

Another long moment passed between them until finally…

“Harry,” Ron said after clearing his throat with a swig of fire whiskey. “I can’t do this.”

Harry wasn’t sure how to respond. Ron had never spoken about his feelings for Hermione with anyone, not even Harry. But now it was very clear that even though he had yet to mention anything specific, he was laying everything out tonight, and Harry understood now just how bad this must be for his friend.

“You remember in the forest before the fourth Horcrux…” Ron paused as if calling the memory up in more detail in his own mind. “We couldn’t find our way. It was so dark. And there wasn’t a single light anywhere, nothing to let us know that we were in the right place, that we had come the right direction, that we would make it. I feel like I’m not going to make it now, Harry. I can’t really see anything anymore.”

And that was all he said. Harry sat still with no words to say, feeling guilty that he didn’t know how to help his friend. The next twenty minutes went by in complete silence, and finally, when the fire had died down to a dull orange glow, Ron stood from the couch and walked wordlessly out of the apartment, only the pop of him Apparating across the building to his flat echoing after him.