This is a short story that I will be updating daily until complete. It will likely take around a week for all instalments. Due to the English school holiday system my children have been off school for over a week now and though they have just returned I have not had the chance to work on my regular fic (Say Goodnight And Go) now that they have returned and this story is completed I will get back into that head space once again, we're so close to the end now.
This short story is something that buried itself deep in my heart and I couldn't get rid of until I wrote it down, I hope you like.
Beta love to CharmedWitchOfRavenclaw and extra special kisses to Searching For Light for letting me use her as an alpha (even if she didn't realise that was what was happening) they're both amazing ladies who without this story wouldn't be...enjoy!
"Will you marry me?" He asked again to his dazed girlfriend, he wasn't sure it had sank in the first time.
Hermione looked at her boyfriend who was down on one knee and suddenly the night made sense, the extravagant dinner, the new gown and shoes and the over enthusiastic bouquet of red roses. It was all too much for her to take in, a shock even after their four years spent together.
She quickly thought back over the past four years, each happy memory resurfaced as her smile grew wider, she was right where she wanted to be in most aspects of her life but her and Theo? She knew they were bound for more and she certainly wanted more but something stopped her. That small seed of doubt that had been planted in her mind the second they started dating; she wasn't good enough for him. Her blood wasn't pure enough, she wasn't of a good enough class, she barely had two knuts to rub together and, if that wasn't all, she was only just getting the hang of which of the stupid forks she should use for which course. Outside in she often told herself. Of course his friends shared her sentiments, she had heard them talking about her on more than enough occasions when he brought her to gala after gala, not caring what his friends thought, she would have to spend the evening making idle chit chat to stuck up prissy princesses like Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass and, to top everything off with a cherry she knew his father wrote to him weekly berating his choice of witch. Or, as Rowley Nott liked to word it, 'magic stealing whore'. Theo never paid mind of course, he'd long ago stopped opening the mail and instead threw each letter in the fire the second it arrived before kissing Hermione good morning and going on about his day as if the whole world wasn't against their union.
And therein lay the problem. She loved him, she loved him so much she would do anything for him, adored every little quirk he had and worshipped the very ground he walked on and so, it was with a heavy heart and eyes full of tears that she turned down the proposal and fled. She wasn't good enough for him, she never would be. She was always going to be swotty little Hermione Granger who loved to keep her nose in a book as she read by the fire. She would always have unruly hair and be awful at walking in heels and she would never be good at makeup spells and that was the kind of witch that was expected of him to find, the kind of witch he deserved. One who could go to a gala on his arm and compliment him effortlessly, who could be a benefactor rather than just turn up on the night in a gown she had had to rent.
She fled the restaurant as soon as she was done declining his offer, she didn't give him time to change her mind because she knew he would do it. He could be very persuasive when he wanted to be and she she left him stricken, down on one knee as a reporter caught the entire thing and she went to the only person who would understand; Ron.
Ron had recently found his fiancé Lavender of two years in bed with another woman and was trying to adjust to life as a single man. He had a small flat that he lived in alone though was never there much since he spent most of his time at work. Since the incident he liked to take whatever overtime he could manage, reducing the risk of being alone. Hermione had been there for him as much as she could but he never made it easy. She turned up that night wearing the gown she had gone to dinner in, she didn't want to risk going back home to Nott Manor where all her things were so when she knocked on Ron's door she had nothing but the clothes on her back and whatever was in her trademark clutch bag.
He let her in and poured them each a hefty four fingers of firewhiskey as he listened to her story. He didn't try telling her she was stupid or that she had made a mistake, he could see in her eyes she didn't need confirmation of what she already knew.