Ron's Worst Memory

By wired2damoon

A/N: Okay, so here's a little one-shot for one of my favourite nostalgic couples Ron and Hermione. It is set a little after The Battle Of Hogwarts, maybe four years or so and Ron and Hermione are living together. It's just a little look at what Hermione might think once she's seen her future husband's worst memory… enjoy!

Disclaimer: Only the plot is mine, all the characters involved are the wonderful creation of JK Rowling!

Hermione Granger had just come home from a very busy day at work in the Ministry of Magic.

Wiping her brow with the back of her hand and flicking her overly-bushy hair over her shoulder she collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table, resting her head in her hands.

After a few, utterly tranquil, calming moments she let out a deep sigh as she got up from her chair and went over to the kitchen sink to get herself a nice, cold glass of water.

Checking her watch and deciding that she had just enough time for a small nap before her fiancé Ron Weasley got home from work, she trudged up the stairs and into her comfy, welcoming bedroom.

Her eyes were almost rolling back into her head she was so tired as she pulled on her pyjamas, her back ached, head pained and neck creaked as she did so.

Pulling on her fluffy, purple slippers that her soon-to-be-sister-in-law Ginny had bought her for her birthday she stomped over to Ron's wardrobe to get his dressing gown (it was always much warmer then her's) when something from the darkness within caught her chocolate-brown eyes.

A glowing was coming from the back of the wardrobe. The same eerie silver glow that erupted out of a wand when a Patronus was cast.

Frowning, Hermione stepped forward slightly and hunched down into the wardrobe, pulling out her wand and muttering the word "lumos" so that it was suddenly filled with yellow glow, and there she set her sights on a large, stone basin-shaped vessel sitting on the floor in the corner.

"A Pensive?" she mumbled questioningly to herself, utterly confused of how such a thing just so happened to reside in the same space as her husband's aging Weasley sweaters.

She could not ever remember seeing another Pensive apart from the ones in her old school books. She remembered Harry telling her that there was one in Dumbledore's office back when they were in school but she didn't think she ever saw one this close up.

Her curiosity getting the better of her, she bent down and picked up the large basin-like object (which was surprisingly lighter then it looked) and made her way over to her bed, plopping it down gently, suddenly feeling all tiredness drained from her.

A silvery substance (that gave off the eerie glow) neither liquid nor gas was omitting from it and Hermione found herself drawn into touching it against her better judgement.

She always warned Harry in the past not to make such foolish actions and yet here she was a twenty-four year old woman, sitting in her bedroom entirely alone, making bodily contact with a strange and unfamiliar object she found in the back of her husband's wardrobe.

Rolling her eyes and telling herself that something that was in her future-husband's wardrobe couldn't possibly do any bodily harm (if it was George's wardrobe then she would have a different opinion) she stuck out her right index finger and ever so slowly touched the little wasps of smoke/liquid with the tip.

Knowing what was going to happen next, Hermione propelled head-first into the basin whilst holding her breath steadily, eyes closed quite tightly.

After a few seconds the gush of activity around her seemed to slow and she felt it was safe to open her eyes.

Timidly, she opened them a fraction and was shocked by what she encountered.

It seemed she was in the middle of a dark, forest or small wood. It looked vaguely familiar and she frowned as she tried to think were she had seen it before.

All around there was snow falling, a thick blanket already residing on the forest floor, but it wasn't this that intrigued Hermione, it was the sight of two figures that she definitely recognised, one a thin, raven-haired boy who was trembling violently and the other a tall, red-haired young man who was holding a large sword and a golden locket.

Hermione gasped as she realised what memory she was about to witness, the one where Ron pulled Harry out of the lake after he dove in to get the Gryffindor Sword during their epic hunt for Horcruxes a few years ago…

She could barely contain her excitement as she over looked her best friend and her then future-husband conversing, she never did get around to hearing the full story in detail (she was rather, 'irritated' by Ron's sudden reappearance after abandoning her and Harry she remembered.)

The two friends were murmuring something to each other, Hermione, bracing herself as she had an idea what was about to happen, stepped closer ever-so-slightly so she could listen.

"No, you should do it", Harry was saying to a Ron who looked shocked.

"Why?"

"Because you got the sword out of the pool. I think its supposed to be you", Harry replied to a now terrified Ron and Hermione could tell that he wasn't being kind or generous, just honest.

After a few moments of them arguing, Ron -who was adamant that he could not destroy the evil object and Harry -trying desperately to make him think differently Hermione heard the familiar whisper of her friend saying confidently to the red-head "one…two…three…" the last word came as a hiss and a snarl that she recognised as Parseltongue.

Hermione's eyes bulged as she saw, on Harry's hissed command, the little golden doors on the locket swing wide with a little click.

But it was what happen next that made Hermione's heart feel like it plummeted into icy depths.

Behind both of the glass windows blinked an eye. Hermione had a feeling she knew whose eyes they were too…before he turned them scarlet and slit-pupilled.

"Stab", Hermione heard Harry say as he held the locket steady on a rock.

She watched intently with narrowed eyes as Ron raised the gleaming sword, his hands shaking, waiting for the moment when he pierced the Horcrux with all his might. But alas it did not come…

Hermione frowned as she saw Ron still, the sword dangling over the horrific eyes. She could not fathom what had made him stop, but she did not have to ponder long.

Suddenly an icy, whispered breath omitted from the locket, startling Hermione and Ron too it seemed as he trembled violently.

"I have seen your heart and it is mine".

Hermione watched in horror as Ron stood, frozen solid as Harry shouted "stab!" at him but in vain.

"Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter…least loved now, by the girl who prefers your friend…second best, always, eternally shadowed…"

Hermione breath hitched in her throat as she heard the words echo in the night. "Least loved by the girl who prefers your friend?" she mumbled questioning to herself, feeling extremely confused.

She felt a pang of pity towards her once-best-friend as he stood rooted to the spot looking down at the locket in horror, but the worst it seemed was yet to come.

Harry was screaming at Ron again "Ron, stab it now!" as Hermione gasped at what she witnessed next.

Riddle's eyes gleamed a scarlet red, and suddenly something began to form out of one of the locket's window, and Hermione actually took several steps back as she saw her eighteen year old self and Harry blossom out of the locket until the were drawn up to their full height.

The older Hermione watched on mutely as Ron snatched his hands away from the locket as if burned and the fake, terrifying Harry began to speak.

"Why return? We were better without you, happier without you, glad of your absence…we laughed at your cowardice, your presumption-"

Hermione realised that Harry was talking in Lord Voldemort's tone, but that just made him more menacing then she could have ever imagined. His words were making her heart pound painfully in her chest…

"Presumption!" the fake Hermione cried and the real Hermione could not help but notice that she rather more beautiful then she really had been at eighteen.

"Who could look at you, who would ever look at you, beside Harry Potter? What have you ever done, compared to the Chosen One? What are you, compared to the Boy Who Lived?" the Riddle-Hermione spat at the horrified Ron, with such venom in her tone that all the real Hermione wanted to do was hex her repeatedly over and over.

The look on Ron's face was enough to extinguish Hermione's anger however. She bit her bottom lip anxiously, her hands shaking vigorously as she watched on.

Never, not in her entire life, had she seen Ron look so, dejected, depressed and hurt as he did right at that very moment.

Her heart soared out to him and willed for him not to believe a word the horrid, fake Hermione was saying but it seemed neither she nor the Riddle-Harry were finished.

"Your mother confessed, that she would of preferred me as a son, would be glad of the exchange", the Riddle-Harry sneered while the Riddle-Hermione nodded and jeered in approval.

The real Hermione began to shake her own head in response as she was deeply disturbed by what these fake people were saying to dear Ron. If she felt this terrible, she just couldn't image what Ron was going through…

And just when Hermione thought that she could take no more of Ron's torture, she witnessed something so stunning that for a moment she actually thought she had been 'Stupified'.

"Who wouldn't prefer him, what woman would take you? You are nothing, nothing, nothing to him", the Riddle-Hermione crooned before she entwined herself around the fake Harry, clinging to him in a tight embrace: their lips meeting heavily.

The real Hermione was powerless to any movement as he eyes darted to Ron with a worried frown.

His face, she could see, suddenly filled with anguish, shaking from head to toe as Harry shouted something Hermione couldn't hear over the bitter, high-pitched laughter of the Riddle Harry and Hermione.

The sword plunged in a downward motion and Hermione could hear the distinct sound of metal scraping and a long scream pierce the darkened night.

But it was none of these occurrences that Hermione found herself drawn to paying attention to, it was to the teenage red-haired young man who was know breathing extremely heavily.

As she neared closer, Hermione walked around the very-solid looking Ronald and let out a moan of sadness as she noticed that his beautiful sea-blue eyes were wet with tears.

Biting her bottom lip so hard she thought she may have drawn blood she watched intently as Ron shook violently and dropped the Gryffindor Sword with a loud thud.

Her heart ached as she saw the hurt expression spread across his entire face and she wanted desperately to reach out an embrace him, murmur reassurances into his ear whilst gripping him tightly, but then remembered where she was and remained still.

Harry was now kneeling down beside Ron in the snow, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Hermione edged closer as she realised that he was beginning to speak.

"After you left, she cried for a week…there were nights we never even spoke to each other…with you gone…I love her like a sister…she feels the same…I thought you knew…" Hermione only caught some of the reassurances that Harry murmured to Ron softly but she got enough to understand what they meant.

Ron remained silent, his face turned away as he wiped his nose noisily on his sleeve.

Hermione was just about to edge even closer to hear what Ron was going to say before she felt a soft tapping on her shoulder.

She jumped nearly three feet into the air with shock, whirling around and pointing her wand menacingly.

"Woah, woah, woah, cease fire, it's only me", smirked the present-Ronald Weasley, holding his hands up in front of him in surrender.

Placing a hand over her heart, Hermione lowered her wand and glared at him.

"Don't do that Ron! You nearly gave me a heart-attack!" she scolded but it seemed that Ron was no longer listening to her and was staring ahead were he saw his Pensive-self mumbling to Harry.

"It was one of the hardest things I ever had to go through you know, apart from death and the war…" he spoke with an air of a man who's had many aging experiences.

Hermione nodded slowly as she remained quiet, suddenly becoming aware of the seriousness of the situation.

"Ron I'm sorry I intruded and looked into your memories I-"

"-Hermione…I was going to show you one day anyway…I was hoping you know, that we could share the Pensive eventually, you know…to remember some better times", he interrupted, shrugging his shoulders lightly.

At this sweet gesture Hermione smiled and took his hand, but felt a creep of guilt seep into her veins as she suddenly remembered something.

"Oh no…I was really horrible to you when you arrived back at the tent…" she whispered softly, her eyebrows knitted together in a frown.

Ron just grinned that cute grin of his and replied matter-of-factly, "you had every right to be, c'mon", he finished before gripping her hand tighter and pulling her with him.

Suddenly Hermione felt the familiar gush of air buzz about her and she found herself taking a large gulp as she landed back onto the hard, wooden floor of her bedroom with a definite thump.

"Whoa", Ron exclaimed as she went to stumble backwards but he grabbed her around the waist to hold her steady.

"Thanks…" she breathed as he steadied her and suddenly, realising their position, took the opportunity to wrap her arms around his neck and beam up at him as he encircled her waist with his long, strong arms.

"Ron, I-I never knew…I-I'm so sorry you had to see that…" she stammered, her chocolate-eyes brimming with tears as she stared up into his deep blue ones.

Ron squeezed her tightly as he whispered back, "it wasn't real Hermione…that was the main thing…"

Hermione reached up a hand to brush away some hair from Ron's face as she responded softly, "its always been you, I've always loved you, never anyone else, just…you… you know that don't right?"

Ron smiled down at his soon-to-be-wife and whispered, "yeah…I do now…" before reaching down and capturing her lips with his in a sweet and tender kiss…

A/N: Well there ya go I hope you enjoyed. I realise there are a lot of other memories which could be classified as Ron's "worst" such as the death of his brother Fred, the torture of Hermione by Bellatrix, the War in general etc. so I urge you to understand that I just took one memory and went with it. Also you may have noticed I rearranged some parts of Deathly Hallows to fit Hermione's point of view so I hoped it worked and you enjoyed it! ~wired2damoon~ Xx