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ONE. when she tells you she is a forest fire, or a clenched fist, or a bloody knife, do not correct her. when she tells you she is damaged goods, do not try to change her mind. instead, tell her you will love her anyway. she does not need fixing. she does not even need saving. she just needs someone to look at the wreckage and see something worth making a home in.
TWO. listen to the songs she tells you about. even the silly ones. even the ones she only mentions in passing. buy her the books you notice on her to be read list. to love anybody, you have to know them. to love a forest fire, you have to want to.
THREE. remember, you carry a piece of your childhood home everywhere you go. your crooked smiles reflect the off-center picture frames on your wall. the smell of coffee every day keeps you as warm and inviting as your kitchen. but she lived in a house always on fire, and a part of her will always carry the burning. remember to carry extra bandages with you. you cannot love a forest fire girl and come out unscathed.
FOUR. this is the hard part: she is going to hurt you. this is the harder part: you are going to hurt her too. there will be times you can't erase the image of her flinching at the sound of your raised voice out of your head. there will be days you won't forgive yourself for it. but let me tell you a secret: none of us who love leave this life without the scars to prove we loved. none of us come out unscathed.
FIVE. you are not the hero in this story. neither is she. truth is, you're both just trying your best. we are all just trying to be holy. you are not the hero in this story. do not congratulate yourself for loving a forest fire. do not call yourself savior. call yourself lover, and you might get to be both.
SIX. and a reminder, to the forest fires reading this: you are worth more than you know. you do not have to be beautiful. you do not have to be good. you only have to sit in the quiet of the night, look up at the stars, and promise to love the people in your life a little better tomorrow. even yourself. especially yourself.
I remember my 12 year old self reading OotP for the first time ever, stumbling upon the part where Hermione kisses Ron’s cheek for luck before the quiddich match and I got so excited and was so surprised (like I wasn’t expecting that at all) I literally threw the book at the wall and shrieked so loudly. my parents came into my room asking if I was okay because they heard screams and I was just sitting there giggling like a school girl with the book on the other side of the room. The funniest part is that to this day, at 20 years old, this is still basically my reaction to fluff😂 some things just never change I guess🤷🏻♀️
You might not necessarily be an annoying person, but you’re part of the most annoying fandoms in the world. Please just shut up and reassess your life choices
Ron never grew up. He remained a lazy, insecure, envious, eleven year old for the entire series and he was a total flake. He was there for Harry through some stuff but in the every day he was only there when it suited him and when he benefitted from it. Nothing about his relationship indicates they would have been truly happy long-term. Rowling’s boy-makes-girl cries-because-he-likes-her trope is tired and unrealistic for a long lasting relationship.
Ron never grew up. He remained a lazy, insecure, envious, eleven year old for the entire series. . .
Anon, pray tell, what the fuck are you saying?
"He remained a lazy. . . eleven year old for the entire series."
Mf the series took place over 7-8 years, how did he remain eleven years old? Nevertheless, I'll look past this - I believe you're trying to say he never grew from his 11 year old self, which is of course, complete rubbish.
Ron wasn't lazy. He was a completely normal student who didn't like doing hw. It's really not that deep. Not liking school work, doesn't make you a bad person, sorry to break it to you.
And yes, Ron was insecure at times, but he was also in a situation where he was constantly overshadowed by his siblings, always cast aside in favor of Harry, made fun of by Malfoy for his lack of wealth, etc. It's completely normal to be insecure. There's nothing wrong with it, and in the end he got over it. Keep in mind that's he a literal teenager.
Ron was envious, twice. Twice in the entire series that I can remember. Once when he was jealous that Hermione got taken to the Yule Ball by Krum, and once when Harry got into the Triwizard competition. He was fourteen-fifteen during both occasions. So a teenager having muddled emotions and going through puberty is completely okay. Being jealous is a very normal thing. Stop with your holier than thou attitude.
And he was a total flake. He was there for Harry through some stuff but in the every day he was only there when it suited him and when he benefitted from it.
No, that is absolutely incorrectly. Ron was there for Harry all the damn time. He "abandoned" Harry ONCE in the entire series, and that was because of jealousy - like I said before, a very, normal, human thing, and he apologized for it. How did Ron going on the Horcrux Hunt, aged 17 benefit him? He was a pureblood, and even though he was a "blood traitor" he would've still been safe. How did Ron facing his worst fear in the Forbidden Forest, aged 12, benefit him? He did it for his friends How did Ron, fighting against Death Eaters, aged 15, benefit him? Almost everything Ron did throughout the series was for the benefit of others.
Nothing about his relationship indicates they would have been truly happy long-term.
Actually, it does. They were good friends for seven-ish years, and yes, they had their ups and downs, but they remained friends and later lovers because they shared a super strong bond. You all love to act like their bickering was actually "mean ronnie abusing poor hermione" when honestly it was two-sided, and they never said anything to each other that was actually bad.
Ron did not “abuse” Hermione. Please don’t throw that word around without knowing what it means. Also, think about it. This is Hermione Granger we’re talking about. She trapped Rita Skeeter in a jar, she permanently scarred Marietta Edgecombe face. She doesn’t take shit from no one. If Ron was “bullying” her, they would’ve stopped being friends in first year itself.
Rowling’s boy-makes-girl cries-because-he-likes-her trope is tired and unrealistic for a long lasting relationship.
That trope never existed in the books though. Ron never did anything directly to Hermione that made her cry. He pissed her off at times, because he used to have slightly sexist views which he grew out off, but he never did anything directly to make her cry. Hermione cried over him once, when he was making out with Lavender, and that was not Ron's fault.
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Chapter 53
It was rare for Hermione to be sitting down doing nothing. Even when she was sitting, even when she was supposedly doing ‘nothing,’ she was always doing something. Ron, who openly admitted to being a whole lot lazier than she was, had the ability to sit down and switch his brain off and quite literally do nothing. He could sit there and not think much about anything.
But Hermione… she did not possess such an ability. Even when she tried, she was up a few minutes later, busying herself with anything that would keep her mind active, keeping herself going. The only time he ever saw her resting was when she was asleep… and now, apparently.
It was a Saturday after the end of a very long and busy work week for both of them. As usual, Hermione had been inundated with requests, handed stacks and stacks of paperwork to do, and she’d been working non-stop, nine to five, every single day.
Ron was really starting to worry about her because of it.
For Ron, it had been a busy but bittersweet week as well, knowing that it was going to be his final week working with Neville. That was another point, however, that had Ron worried; Hermione had taken Neville’s news fairly lightly. Almost like it was nothing, because moment’s after he had told her, she’d been pulled into another meeting at work.
Dean had organised a farewell that evening for Neville with the whole Auror Office, but the rest of the day was free, and Ron was jumping on the rarity of finding Hermione in a very relaxed mood. He had an idea to help lessen the workload stress for both of them.
She wasn’t even reading, or going over some notes she’d thought about throughout the day and had to jot down before she forgot them. She was just sitting. She was even dressed in very casual clothes — jeans and a t-shirt, with her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail.
Very un-Hermione-like, but exactly how Ron had hoped to find her. Finally.
“I can’t believe you’re just sitting there,” he said, coming over to her and placing a kiss on her forehead. “What has become of Hermione Granger? Are you actually doing nothing?”
She smiled, looking up at him. “I’m so tired, Ron, I don’t think I could do anything even if I wanted to.” She continued to smile at him as he joined her on the sofa.
"You're going to burn yourself out," he told her. He'd been telling her that for a while now, and she simply wouldn't listen.
"That's why I'm taking a break today," she replied.
"I don't just mean this week, I mean… for good. You've got to take more breaks and stop letting everyone else you work with dictate what you're doing. They rely on you too much. They'd fall apart the moment you decided not to come in one day."
"That's not true," Hermione said. "I'm one of the newest in the department. Most have been there years before me."
"And you’ve quickly proven yourself to be the best," Ron continued. "They’ve come to rely on you too much."
Hermione shook her head but didn't say anything. He was starting to get worried; he was starting to notice the little things about her that happened when she became stressed. She was getting overwhelmed with everyone else's reliance on her. It was she who had passed the laws, it was she who was working closely alongside the Minister to assist with the gradual reforms happening within the Ministry. She may have been new in comparison to others, but she was the one everyone turned to for advice.
"I only say it because I worry about you," Ron continued. "You know I do."
"Is that why you came down here?" she asked. "To tell me how worried you are?"
"I came down to see my amazing wife, actually," Ron said. "And then I found you looking so relaxed that it surprised me. A good surprise, but a surprise nonetheless."
He watched her for a moment. Then hesitated. He did have a reason for seeking her out — beyond just wanting to spend time with her. But his uncertainty got the better of him in that moment, and he instead just watched her.
What he wanted to ask her was something, in any normal situation, no one would feel hesitant about. But with his work-obsessed wife, he had to prepare a speech in order to convince her. Otherwise, she’d probably turn his offer down.
“You look like you have something you want to say?” Hermione said.
“I guess I do.” He sighed, already regretting coming to see her when he knew what her answer would be.
She frowned, worry knitting at her brows. “Is everything okay?” she asked, a little tentatively.
Ron looked at her and nodded. “Er, yeah, I’m just now thinking you’re probably not going to say yes to this, but you’re probably in the most likely mood at the moment, so I’ll give it a shot.”
Her frown deepened.
“I think we need to go on a holiday,” he said. “You know, just the two of us, together, away… doing nothing for like a whole week.”
There was a moment of silence and then a burst of laughter.
“Glad I amuse you,” Ron grumbled. “I’m being serious.”
“You had me worried it was something horrible,” Hermione said, stifling another laugh. “You looked so nervous…”
“Well, do you know how hard it is to ask you to take a break for just a few hours?” Ron reasoned. “Let alone a whole week.”
Hermione laughed again and looked at him with deep affection. Ron gave her a lopsided grin. “So… what do you think? Some time away together…”
“We only came back from our honeymoon a few months ago. Two holidays in one year?”
“Why must you make this so difficult?” Ron accused. “A simple no would be much easier…”
“I’m thinking!” Hermione protested. “Trying to figure out if we actually can…”
Ron blinked. If truth be told, he’d expected either a flat out no or a list of reasons why they couldn’t. He’d not exactly anticipated for her to think about it.
He waited while she appeared to have a silent conversation with herself, knowing that she was running through all the pros and cons of leaving her work behind for a week. Maybe it was a good thing he’d caught her taking a break...
After a long pause, she looked at him with a smile. “Where do you have in mind?”
“You mean… you want…” His mouth was open slightly. Truthfully, he’d not gotten as far as a destination, because he had not thought she’d ever agree to leaving her work behind — for the second time this year.
“I’m so tired, Ron,” Hermione said before he could give an answer. “More tired than I’ve ever been before. And believe it or not, whenever you say I need a break, you’re usually right. So… if you think we need one, then maybe we do. Where would you like to go?”
“Well…” Ron began, his mind suddenly overloaded with joy and relief that she was agreeing. He was suggesting this because of her — because he’d watched her energy levels disintegrate over the months of planning for Kingsley and the weeks following at work. He’d watched her stress levels increase daily. He’d listened to her cursing quietly when a memo or an owl found her in the evenings, requesting one thing or another, and felt helpless when even she seemed to be falling behind the workload because everyone wanted her to do everything for them (and she lacked the ability to say no).
Not only did she need a break, but everyone else needed to relearn how to survive without her input, because while Hermione was there taking on everything she possibly could, everyone else would keep using her like they were.
Not only was she his wife and he loved her very much, he’d always been the only one she’d actually occasionally listen to. And finally she was starting to realise that herself.
“Ron?” Hermione questioned.
“Er, well, I dunno… do you have anywhere in mind? Truthfully, I just want to spend a week with you, anywhere.”
“We have the whole world open to us,” Hermione said cheerfully. “Europe, Africa, South America, Asia… anywhere.”
“Maybe a remote island somewhere no one has ever heard of,” Ron said. “That way, we’re alone, we can do what we want, we can…”
“Sounds perfect.” She reached out her hand to squeeze his. “I’m looking forward to it. It reminds me of the time we went to Croatia, when we did nothing —”
“That was when I decided — when I knew — I wanted to marry you,” Ron said, beaming at her. They fell silent for a moment, Ron reminiscing of that time only a few years ago. A time where they were recovering from a fight — the only time they’d really struggled to understand each other in their relationship. Just spending every moment with her, being with her like that, had sealed the deal well and truly for him. He’d promised to marry her one day, and he had. Now he just wanted to look after her when she couldn’t look after herself.
“And that’s when I promised to say yes when you asked,” Hermione said after a moment.
Ron’s smile widened. “If I’m being honest, Hermione, I thought you’d say no. To this holiday, I mean. I wasn’t really expecting you to agree to it, so now I need to do some thinking. Where to go…”
Hermione’s brows furrowed again, and Ron watched as her gaze drifted away from his, staring into nothing. He knew an idea was forming in her head and he waited for her to gather it. He’d not get her back until it was fully formed.
When she eventually looked back at him, a wide, happy smile spread across her face, he said, “Alright then, out with it. What is it? Where are we going?”
“Well…” she said slowly, looking so pleased with herself that Ron wasn’t sure he liked where she was leading. “Why don’t we try things a little different this time?”
“What do you mean?” Ron asked warily.
“Why don’t we travel the Muggle way?”
“What?” Ron said, now certain he didn’t like where this was leading. Although he didn’t understand the ‘Muggle way’ of travelling entirely, he’d seen one of those Muggle contraptions they called airplanes in pictures, and in his opinion, they were large metal death traps that could go in the air without any magic to prevent them from falling.
Hermione squeezed his hand, still smiling. “It’ll be fun,” she said. “Something different…”
“Something that might kill us,” Ron replied.
“Oh, Ron, don’t be so dramatic.”
“I’m not. I’m sorry, Hermione, but I’ve seen airplanes, and they look set to fall from the sky at any moment. There’s no magic attached to them to prevent them from hitting the ground if they were to fall. I didn’t survive a whole wizarding war just to die in a big ball of metal that couldn’t hold itself up. We’ll get a Portkey, thanks.”
“You know,” Hermione said, “statistically, there’s been more injuries and deaths linked to broomstick flying, Floo travel and Portkey travel combined than there has been on airplanes.”
“Oh yeah?” Ron asked, knowing he sounded sceptical (because he was). “Looked it up, did you?”
“Yes.”
Ron said nothing. He knew now that he’d lost this argument, because Hermione knew — as usual — more than he did. She seemed determined to introduce him to yet another part of her other world — one that he was already far too deep into and enjoying too much to say no to her.
“So, you’re sure it’ll be okay to do this?” He heard himself sigh, relenting.
“Positive.”
“You’re lucky I love you and trust you, you know? Not sure I’d agree to this for anyone else but you. It seems risky… dangerous…”
She smiled at him again and Ron’s chest tightened at seeing her happiness and knowing that he was the reason for that happiness. He had been hesitant to ask her to begin with, half worrying that she’d snap at him for daring to suggest it, but he’d underestimated her. And maybe… just maybe… she was beginning to recognise the times when she was overworking herself. Not yet to a point where she had the capacity to actually reduce her workload, but enough to know she needed a break every so often.
“I love you,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her. She was warm and cosy, her lips soft against his. When had he ever seen her so relaxed before? Never, probably. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” she replied.
“So now the question is… where should we go?”
“Why don’t we surprise ourselves?” Hermione said.
“What do you mean?” Ron questioned and Hermione got to her feet, offering a hand to pull Ron up with her.
“I mean that we can quite literally book a surprise holiday. Where we don’t know where we’re going until we’re almost there. That’ll be fun.”
Ron considered countering this statement, making some kind of comment that it wouldn’t be fun, but seeing the sheer happiness on her face at the very thought stopped him. He just smiled and nodded and kissed her forehead. “Sure,” he said.
“Let’s go to the city and organise it now!” She tugged on his hand, filled with a life Ron hadn’t seen in her in weeks. She’d been dragged down by her work, doing things that Ron suspected she wasn’t even enjoying all that much anymore, but none of that seemed on her mind as she gripped him tightly in preparation to Disapparate them both into Nottingham.
As she did, Ron’s only thought was of how he would do just about anything — meaning he’d get on one of those metal death traps — if it meant he could continue seeing her smile like that every day.
…
Later that evening, Ron once again found himself entering the living room to find his wife more relaxed than he had since he’d known her. He smiled at her lying form spread across the sofa, a blanket wrapped around her and asleep — exactly as he'd left her two hours ago.
On the table beside where her head lay was a fat, sealed envelope with papers and papers of information regarding a holiday they’d just booked. Neither of them knew where it was to, and it wasn’t until after they’d organised it with a person whose job it was to book holidays — a travel agent, Hermione had said — did she start to question whether it had been a good idea.
“Bit late now, isn’t it?” Ron had said when she’d expressed her concerns over not knowing what to pack. He had seen her eyes flicker constantly to the envelope and he’d known she desperately wanted to open it, because she hated not knowing.
“It was your idea to do this.”
Completely opposite to Hermione, Ron had become rather excited about the prospect of not finding out where they were going until they got to the airport. He still didn’t particularly like the idea of flying without magic, but at least they could use their time in the air to discuss and read through the information.
All they knew was that it would be somewhere in Europe. So afterwards, Hermione had gone and bought a travel book about Europe and had been spewing out guesses to Ron for about an hour after they got home.
Eventually, though, the previous week's events had caught up to her and she'd closed her eyes for a few moments, asking Ron to wake her in fifteen minutes. He hadn't. Instead, he'd gone and made dinner, knowing she needed the rest; but now it was ready.
He knelt by the sofa, running his hand against her cheek. She batted his hand away, her eyes still closed.
Ron smiled, gently shaking her shoulder. "Dinner's ready," he said quietly.
Her eyes opened, blinking groggily as she registered her bearings. After a few moments, she looked at Ron. "Dinner?"
"Yeah, you slept for two hours," he said. "And before you argue with me, you clearly needed it."
Hermione slowly sat up, her hair falling out of its tie and flopping over her face. She brushed it aside.
Ron thought she was the most beautiful he’d ever seen her despite looking a little disoriented. She'd actually given in to resting, and for some reason he really, really loved her because of it.
"You hungry?" he asked, kissing her gently on the lips.
"Why didn't you wake me?" she mumbled, an edge of accusation in her voice.
"Because you needed to slow down," he told her. "I wasn't going to discourage you from actually stopping for once."
Despite her apparently not wanting to, she smiled at him. "Why do you always know what I need?"
Ron shrugged. "What are husbands for, huh? You hungry? I cooked us dinner."
"A little. Don't you… don't you have your thing with Neville tonight?"
"Yeah, Harry's stopping by in about an hour."
“Right…” She sat up fully now, suddenly a little more alert. “I can’t believe how tired I was.”
“I told you you’d burn yourself out,” Ron said, dragging her to her feet. They made their way to the kitchen where Ron had already laid out the plates with the food, glasses and cutlery. But before she could sit down, he grabbed her around the waist and kissed her.
When he’d pulled away, she smiled up at him. “What was that for?”
“Because I love you so, so much, and I just… thank you for listening to me.”
Hermione pulled away from him and sat down in a chair.
“And for picking me, for marrying me and… for being you.” Ron sat down opposite her.
“You don’t have to thank me for any of that.” She smiled, picking up the knife and fork and began to eat.
Ron watched her for a few moments, smiling as well, before joining her in eating. She looked so much more alert now since she’d rested.
Halfway through their meal, he said for extra measure, “I’m lucky to have you. Really lucky, and really happy. With you.”
When they finished, Hermione set about washing the dishes. Ron put everything back in the cupboards with his wand, and that was where Harry found them: Hermione using her wand to get the towel drying the washed dishes, and Ron sitting on a stool by the breakfast bench, levitating a stack of plates and moving them to the open cupboard above Hermione’s head.
“Hi, Harry,” Hermione said brightly as he joined Ron on the second stool.
“Hey,” Harry said, looking between Hermione and Ron.
“I’m ready to go when you are,” Ron said.
“I’m ready now,” Harry replied. He frowned questioningly at the two of them and Ron knew that he probably looked ridiculously cheerful. He’d had a great day. It wasn’t just what they’d planned, but he felt that he’d actually spent some quality time with Hermione and for that he was grateful.
Ron stood up from the stool and moved to kiss Hermione’s cheek. “I’ll see you when I get home,” he said.
“I’ll probably be in bed,” she replied, “unless you all have a very dull night.”
“You’ll be alright on your own?” Ron asked.
“I am perfectly happy to be on my own for a few hours,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “Have fun.”
“And you won’t open that envelope, will you?” he said, frowning.
Hermione gave him a nervous smile, taking a moment to shake her head. “Of course I won’t.” She almost breathed out the response like it physically pained her to say it.
Ron wasn’t convinced she’d stick to her word, though he knew he’d have no way of knowing, because she’d magically repair the envelope if she did. So, he nodded, kissed her one more time, and turned to Harry.
When they were in the living room, Harry didn’t waste time in asking. “What’s the envelope for?”
“Well, I finally got Hermione to slow down a bit,” Ron said, unable to contain his pride. “She rested today. So it was nice. We planned a holiday in a few weeks.” He smiled. Grinned, really.
Harry threw some Floo Powder into the fireplace, looking at Ron rather amused. “I see. Didn’t you just have your honeymoon? Does that mean you’re skiving work again?”
“Not skiving,” Ron said, shaking his head. “Besides, it’s essential we do this.”
Harry raised an eyebrow.
Ron shrugged. “Mental health. Her mental health. Before she loses her mind. The people she works with — they stress her out too much. She won’t admit it, but they do. So, we’re doing this holiday.”
Harry nodded. “I guess that’s fair. She really that stressed?” He sounded worried, his eyes glancing back through the arch towards the kitchen.
Ron nodded. “You know what she’s like…”
Harry also nodded, then asked, “So, where are you going?”
“No idea.”
Harry frowned.
“It’s a mystery one or something,” Ron explained. “Hermione’s idea to do it. We’re getting on one of those Muggle death tr — er — airplanes to do it. It could be anywhere. But it’s not just that. It’s the fact that she actually agreed to it, considering our honeymoon was only a few months ago. She’s actually learning to look after herself.”
“I’m impressed,” Harry replied with a nod, and he genuinely sounded as such. He knew as well as Ron did how hard Hermione sometimes worked herself. “You’re good for her, you know.”
Ron beamed. “She thinks so, too. Said I know what she needs before she does. That’s what husbands do, right?”
“Good husbands do.” Harry laughed and indicated the fireplace with the green flames. “You go first,” he said.
Ron stepped in and vanished to Diagon Alley, where his night out for Neville’s farewell would begin. Today was a good day all round, he decided, when he saw Neville waving merrily to him in the Leaky Cauldron, already with Dean at his side.
Ron had spent the whole day with his wife and for once had seen her enjoying herself rather than stressing over things, and tonight he got to spend it with some of the best friends he’d ever been fortunate enough to meet.
Life was good, he decided as Harry joined them a few moments later. Life was very good.
All I need right now is to take a break from life for a month. I’d like to stay in a small stone cottage, spend my days reading, walking, gardening, watching murder mysteries and drinking tea. I’m just so tired, please
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