Make No Apologies
Rated: T for graphic swear words
Based on a prompt sent to me by lasoma-12 on tumblr: Ron apologizes to Hermione for everything he's done to her since the first year.
It was a lazy Sunday morning for Hermione. A couple of years ago, she would’ve argued that there was no such thing as a lazy morning in her vocabulary. But being with Ron has changed her quite a lot. For the better, he always jokingly adds. Secretly, she agrees.
Today, however, she was still in bed, curled around her boyfriend, idly tracing the freckles on his bare chest, both trying to ignore the light tapping on the window.
“We should probably get that,” he whispered, as though afraid to break a spell.
Hermione murmured in assent but made no move to get off him. He had only just come back from his two week long mission and she was in no mood to let go anytime soon. But the tapping didn’t cease, if anything, the owl was getting more and more impatient.
With a sigh, she forced herself out of bed. Pulling the sheet around her like a makeshift toga, she walked to the window. The owl wasn’t familiar, but she had an inkling as to who might have sent it.
Quickly untying the letter from the tawny owl’s leg, she shooed it away. He was just going to have to wait for a reply.
“Who is it?” Ron called from behind her, still buried inside the blankets. His bright hair was sticking up in all directions. He looked like an adorable red puffskein.
“Just a work memo,” she said dismissively and stuffed it into one of the books on her desk before making her way back to him.
He raised an eyebrow as he lifted the blankets to make room for her.
“On a Sunday?”
She cursed herself inwardly. She wasn’t a good liar when it came to Ron. Very few people were. She supposed it was one of the things that made him a good auror.
“Well, you know how, uh, domineering Pilliwickle is,” she replied, and winced again. She could’ve kicked herself. Justus Pilliwickle was perhaps the most diminutive and timorous wizard in the history of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and seeing as he was the head of a department that the Auror office was also part of, there was no way she could fool Ron.
“Riiight,” the eyebrow went up higher. “What aren’t you telling me, Granger?”
“N-nothing,” she spit out, rather unconvincingly.
A beat. Two. No one said anything. She was beginning to think he was going to let it go. But this was Ron, after all.
“Krum?” he asked quietly. And she closed her eyes.
She should have known better than to hide it from him. He always knew. She just hadn’t wanted to have that fight again, when they had been having such a perfect leisurely day, which were becoming more and more rare with the increased number of assignments on his plate.
She sighed and nodded. He sighed too.
“Why wouldn’t you just say so?” he pouted.
It was her turn to raise an eyebrow and Ron had to admit, it was much more effective when she did it, not to mention graceful.
“Why do you think?”
He gazed at her. Wild hair puffed up like a halo around her head, lips pursed and drawn in a thin line, she still managed to look ethereal. He looked away and sighed again.
“Yeah. I suppose… I suppose I’m not the easiest person to deal with when I’m jealous.”
Her eyes widened. She had never really heard him admit to being jealous. She’d always known just how to push his buttons, using Viktor’s letters to purposely get a rise out of him in school. But as the years passed, and his feelings became clearer, she no longer felt the need to get his attention by resorting to admittedly underhanded methods. Ron, however, wasn’t completely over his insecurities and he would still get skittish at any mention of Viktor Krum. But this was certainly new.
Ron looked at her through his long, translucent eyelashes, apprehension written all over his face.
“It’s my fault really. I’ve made you feel like you can’t share things with me in case I threw a jeb,” he said haltingly.
“Ron-” she began to protest, but he cut her off quickly.
“Please let me just- let me just say this, Hermione. I’m trying - trying to apologize I suppose…” he trailed off.
Hermione, sensing his need to gather his thoughts, didn’t interrupt. For a while. But the silence stretched and she was becoming uncomfortable with the storm brewing in his eyes. She was just getting ready to say something but he beat her to it.
“I’m sorry,” he burst out.
“What? About Viktor?” she asked, surprised.
“Well, that. And also, everything else.”
“Ron-“
“No Hermione! I never said sorry, did I?”
Hermione looked at him confusedly.
“See? You’re so bloody shocked that I’m even saying it at all,” he said, with a slightly wild look in his eyes.
“Okay who are you? And what have you done with Ron Weasley?” she was only partly joking. But he sighed even more deeply.
“Ron?” she began again, but he clutched her hands in his and she stilled.
“Yesterday - I was supposed to have come home the day before yesterday. Not last night. Our assignment was all wrapped up, even the paperwork was done, but…”
“But?” she prompted when he didn’t say anything for a while.
He raised his eyes to hers.
“I was called away on another case. It was supposed to be a minor domestic dispute. No one else was available. All the fellas at the Law Enforcement Patrol were either off duty or too far away to reach in time. We were told it was nothing. That they were just having a barney. And I didn’t think - I just figured it would take an hour at most.” His sentences spilled out in staccato bursts and she squeezed his hands reassuringly.
“But when I got there, they were - Merlin, Hermione, they were…” he shook his head as though to rid himself of the image. “I never want us to become like that, Hermione.”
She didn’t know what he had seen, but while he seemed desperate to talk to her about it, he seemed unable to say the words.
“I need you to know I’ll never get that jealous. I’d never -“ he shook his head again, tears forming in his eyes. “And I want to say sorry. For every single stupid bloody thing I did. For calling you a nightmare. For thinking you were a swot-“
“Well, I kind of was a swot, wasn’t I?” Hermione offered him a weak smile, trying to slow him down. But he was on a roll, refusing to stop until he spilled out his guts.
“No. You weren’t, Hermione. You cared about classes, sure. But it was wrong of me to think that you would put books before your friends. And I reckon I never even said thank you for saving our arses back in second year. Even petrified, you were worth ten of me and Harry,” he said earnestly.
“Oh Ron.”
“It’s true! And I repay you by calling your cat ugly and not talking to you for months,”
“Well…” Hermione couldn’t exactly dispute that she had spent most of third year trying to not burst into tears.
“Besides, I know you were only looking out for Harry when you told McGonagall about the Firebolt. I was - I was a complete fucking prat, wasn’t I?”
Hermione freed her hands from his grip and threw her arms around him instead, much like she’d done in third year when Ron had fervently declared that he’d help her with Buckbeak’s trial. It was just his way of saying sorry. This time however, instead of going stock still, he hugged her back with just as much gusto.
“I forgave you a long time ago, Ron. But it does feel rather good to hear you acknowledge it.”
“Well, I’m not done yet, love. I’m going to sit here and apologise for every rotten thing I did to you.”
“Ron-“ she tried to protest.
“No Hermione. Don’t you reckon it’s long overdue? I need to do this, right? I need to.”
“O-okay,” she replied unsurely.
“Well, I suppose we also put you in an awkward spot when me and Harry fought over the Triwizard tournament. Or… I guess that was my fault too. I reckon I should make a list for Harry too, eh?” he said ruefully.
“And how can I forget the Yule Ball. You got it exactly right, I wanted to go with you. But I suppose I was too much of a git to even realise it. And I was jealous, not that I realised that either. And completely miserable too. That night was the worst. I was so confused, and did I accuse you of fraternizing with the enemy?” he groaned as he remembered that night and Hermione bit back an amused smile.
“I know I get tetchy from time to time, especially when it comes to Kr- Viktor,” Ron bit out the last word like it pained him to say it. “But I promise I’ll try to be reasonable about the letters you get from him, and I definitely won’t go on a jealous rampage.”
“Ron, what happened yesterday?” she tried to ask him as his mood became somber again. But he looked away from her and continued as though he hadn’t heard her.
“Sixth year went all to pot, yeah? I admit part of the reason I was going with Lavender was to get a reaction out of you. Merlin, I’m so sorry for putting you through that. By some fucking miracle, you fancied me. Me! And instead of asking you like a normal bloke, I go and do that. I - I reckon I should apologise to Lavender too,” he sighed.
Hermione shrugged and made a non-committal sound. She wasn’t going to pretend he hadn’t hurt her by ignoring her completely in favour of Lav-Lav, no matter what his reasons might have been. But there was no denying that he had been using Lavender.
“I’m sorry, Hermione.”
“Ron, you don’t have to-“
“And then the locket, it made everything a hundred times worse. I made everything worse. I was such a giant fucking twat, biting your head off every turn, demanding that you turn mushrooms into ruddy full meals when we could barely find any nosh at all… I was downright beastly. Why did you put up with me? But then I left. And bloody hell, why are you still with me?”
“Oh Ron, because you came back!” she threw her arms around him again, letting him sob into her hair.
“I’m sorry Hermione. I know that’s hardly enough, but I don’t know how to make up for everything I’ve done to you. You are - always were - the best thing in my life, and I did my level best to cock it all up, didn’t I? You must be a saint to still want to be around me, let alone be with me,” he said as he drew back from her slightly.
But Hermione only pulled him close again and let loose a few of her own tears that had been brimming in her eyes.
“Ron…I forgave you a long time ago. For all of it. It’s not like I was the easiest person to be around a lot of the time. I know I nagged you a lot, and I could really stand to be a little less critical, but Ron, that’s just us. We are not the most normal couple.”
Ron snorted and mumbled something about it being an understatement.
“I get as jealous as you do, although I usually have reason to be jealous. I’m quite sure I called your pet a few nasty names too, even though he might have deserved it. And I understand why you and Harry were so upset over the Firebolt, although it did hurt. You don’t have to apologise for not asking me to the Yule Ball first, you more than made up for it,” she smiled fondly as she remembered his clumsy attempt at asking her to dance at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. He had proceeded to spend the following half hour stepping on her toes and generally being completely inept at dancing. She had loved every second of it.
Ron raised his eyebrows.
“Are you talking about Bill’s wedding? You think - you actually enjoyed it?” he asked incredulously. “As soon as I asked you I suddenly forgot every dance lesson mum had ever forced on me, I was positive you were never going to be able to walk again by the end of it all. Also, my hand were clammy with all the nervous sweating, and my arse-“
“Okay, Ron? You don’t have to ruin it,” she interrupted him before he could give her any more graphic details. “My point was that we did everything wrong. Both of us. We both could have done things differently, been more understanding, and maybe had more time together. But we are here now.”
“I just don’t want to lose you, Hermione,” Ron replied quietly.
She kissed him then. Soft and sweet. He’s always had the tendency to be unexpectedly endearing at times. Back when he’d first told her he loved her, for looking over his homework, of all things, it was all she could do to not plant a kiss square on his lips. She’s always had trouble keeping her hand off him, she can admit that now. But there are no boundaries anymore and she can touch and hold and kiss him as much as she pleases. How could he lose her when he surrounds her so thoroughly? She smiles into his lips at the thought and breaks away.
“Never,” she assures him. “I love you.”
Based on a prompt sent to me by lasoma-12 on tumblr: Ron apologizes to Hermione for everything he's done to her since the first year.
It was a lazy Sunday morning for Hermione. A couple of years ago, she would’ve argued that there was no such thing as a lazy morning in her vocabulary. But being with Ron has changed her quite a lot. For the better, he always jokingly adds. Secretly, she agrees.
Today, however, she was still in bed, curled around her boyfriend, idly tracing the freckles on his bare chest, both trying to ignore the light tapping on the window.
“We should probably get that,” he whispered, as though afraid to break a spell.
Hermione murmured in assent but made no move to get off him. He had only just come back from his two week long mission and she was in no mood to let go anytime soon. But the tapping didn’t cease, if anything, the owl was getting more and more impatient.
With a sigh, she forced herself out of bed. Pulling the sheet around her like a makeshift toga, she walked to the window. The owl wasn’t familiar, but she had an inkling as to who might have sent it.
Quickly untying the letter from the tawny owl’s leg, she shooed it away. He was just going to have to wait for a reply.
“Who is it?” Ron called from behind her, still buried inside the blankets. His bright hair was sticking up in all directions. He looked like an adorable red puffskein.
“Just a work memo,” she said dismissively and stuffed it into one of the books on her desk before making her way back to him.
He raised an eyebrow as he lifted the blankets to make room for her.
“On a Sunday?”
She cursed herself inwardly. She wasn’t a good liar when it came to Ron. Very few people were. She supposed it was one of the things that made him a good auror.
“Well, you know how, uh, domineering Pilliwickle is,” she replied, and winced again. She could’ve kicked herself. Justus Pilliwickle was perhaps the most diminutive and timorous wizard in the history of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and seeing as he was the head of a department that the Auror office was also part of, there was no way she could fool Ron.
“Riiight,” the eyebrow went up higher. “What aren’t you telling me, Granger?”
“N-nothing,” she spit out, rather unconvincingly.
A beat. Two. No one said anything. She was beginning to think he was going to let it go. But this was Ron, after all.
“Krum?” he asked quietly. And she closed her eyes.
She should have known better than to hide it from him. He always knew. She just hadn’t wanted to have that fight again, when they had been having such a perfect leisurely day, which were becoming more and more rare with the increased number of assignments on his plate.
She sighed and nodded. He sighed too.
“Why wouldn’t you just say so?” he pouted.
It was her turn to raise an eyebrow and Ron had to admit, it was much more effective when she did it, not to mention graceful.
“Why do you think?”
He gazed at her. Wild hair puffed up like a halo around her head, lips pursed and drawn in a thin line, she still managed to look ethereal. He looked away and sighed again.
“Yeah. I suppose… I suppose I’m not the easiest person to deal with when I’m jealous.”
Her eyes widened. She had never really heard him admit to being jealous. She’d always known just how to push his buttons, using Viktor’s letters to purposely get a rise out of him in school. But as the years passed, and his feelings became clearer, she no longer felt the need to get his attention by resorting to admittedly underhanded methods. Ron, however, wasn’t completely over his insecurities and he would still get skittish at any mention of Viktor Krum. But this was certainly new.
Ron looked at her through his long, translucent eyelashes, apprehension written all over his face.
“It’s my fault really. I’ve made you feel like you can’t share things with me in case I threw a jeb,” he said haltingly.
“Ron-” she began to protest, but he cut her off quickly.
“Please let me just- let me just say this, Hermione. I’m trying - trying to apologize I suppose…” he trailed off.
Hermione, sensing his need to gather his thoughts, didn’t interrupt. For a while. But the silence stretched and she was becoming uncomfortable with the storm brewing in his eyes. She was just getting ready to say something but he beat her to it.
“I’m sorry,” he burst out.
“What? About Viktor?” she asked, surprised.
“Well, that. And also, everything else.”
“Ron-“
“No Hermione! I never said sorry, did I?”
Hermione looked at him confusedly.
“See? You’re so bloody shocked that I’m even saying it at all,” he said, with a slightly wild look in his eyes.
“Okay who are you? And what have you done with Ron Weasley?” she was only partly joking. But he sighed even more deeply.
“Ron?” she began again, but he clutched her hands in his and she stilled.
“Yesterday - I was supposed to have come home the day before yesterday. Not last night. Our assignment was all wrapped up, even the paperwork was done, but…”
“But?” she prompted when he didn’t say anything for a while.
He raised his eyes to hers.
“I was called away on another case. It was supposed to be a minor domestic dispute. No one else was available. All the fellas at the Law Enforcement Patrol were either off duty or too far away to reach in time. We were told it was nothing. That they were just having a barney. And I didn’t think - I just figured it would take an hour at most.” His sentences spilled out in staccato bursts and she squeezed his hands reassuringly.
“But when I got there, they were - Merlin, Hermione, they were…” he shook his head as though to rid himself of the image. “I never want us to become like that, Hermione.”
She didn’t know what he had seen, but while he seemed desperate to talk to her about it, he seemed unable to say the words.
“I need you to know I’ll never get that jealous. I’d never -“ he shook his head again, tears forming in his eyes. “And I want to say sorry. For every single stupid bloody thing I did. For calling you a nightmare. For thinking you were a swot-“
“Well, I kind of was a swot, wasn’t I?” Hermione offered him a weak smile, trying to slow him down. But he was on a roll, refusing to stop until he spilled out his guts.
“No. You weren’t, Hermione. You cared about classes, sure. But it was wrong of me to think that you would put books before your friends. And I reckon I never even said thank you for saving our arses back in second year. Even petrified, you were worth ten of me and Harry,” he said earnestly.
“Oh Ron.”
“It’s true! And I repay you by calling your cat ugly and not talking to you for months,”
“Well…” Hermione couldn’t exactly dispute that she had spent most of third year trying to not burst into tears.
“Besides, I know you were only looking out for Harry when you told McGonagall about the Firebolt. I was - I was a complete fucking prat, wasn’t I?”
Hermione freed her hands from his grip and threw her arms around him instead, much like she’d done in third year when Ron had fervently declared that he’d help her with Buckbeak’s trial. It was just his way of saying sorry. This time however, instead of going stock still, he hugged her back with just as much gusto.
“I forgave you a long time ago, Ron. But it does feel rather good to hear you acknowledge it.”
“Well, I’m not done yet, love. I’m going to sit here and apologise for every rotten thing I did to you.”
“Ron-“ she tried to protest.
“No Hermione. Don’t you reckon it’s long overdue? I need to do this, right? I need to.”
“O-okay,” she replied unsurely.
“Well, I suppose we also put you in an awkward spot when me and Harry fought over the Triwizard tournament. Or… I guess that was my fault too. I reckon I should make a list for Harry too, eh?” he said ruefully.
“And how can I forget the Yule Ball. You got it exactly right, I wanted to go with you. But I suppose I was too much of a git to even realise it. And I was jealous, not that I realised that either. And completely miserable too. That night was the worst. I was so confused, and did I accuse you of fraternizing with the enemy?” he groaned as he remembered that night and Hermione bit back an amused smile.
“I know I get tetchy from time to time, especially when it comes to Kr- Viktor,” Ron bit out the last word like it pained him to say it. “But I promise I’ll try to be reasonable about the letters you get from him, and I definitely won’t go on a jealous rampage.”
“Ron, what happened yesterday?” she tried to ask him as his mood became somber again. But he looked away from her and continued as though he hadn’t heard her.
“Sixth year went all to pot, yeah? I admit part of the reason I was going with Lavender was to get a reaction out of you. Merlin, I’m so sorry for putting you through that. By some fucking miracle, you fancied me. Me! And instead of asking you like a normal bloke, I go and do that. I - I reckon I should apologise to Lavender too,” he sighed.
Hermione shrugged and made a non-committal sound. She wasn’t going to pretend he hadn’t hurt her by ignoring her completely in favour of Lav-Lav, no matter what his reasons might have been. But there was no denying that he had been using Lavender.
“I’m sorry, Hermione.”
“Ron, you don’t have to-“
“And then the locket, it made everything a hundred times worse. I made everything worse. I was such a giant fucking twat, biting your head off every turn, demanding that you turn mushrooms into ruddy full meals when we could barely find any nosh at all… I was downright beastly. Why did you put up with me? But then I left. And bloody hell, why are you still with me?”
“Oh Ron, because you came back!” she threw her arms around him again, letting him sob into her hair.
“I’m sorry Hermione. I know that’s hardly enough, but I don’t know how to make up for everything I’ve done to you. You are - always were - the best thing in my life, and I did my level best to cock it all up, didn’t I? You must be a saint to still want to be around me, let alone be with me,” he said as he drew back from her slightly.
But Hermione only pulled him close again and let loose a few of her own tears that had been brimming in her eyes.
“Ron…I forgave you a long time ago. For all of it. It’s not like I was the easiest person to be around a lot of the time. I know I nagged you a lot, and I could really stand to be a little less critical, but Ron, that’s just us. We are not the most normal couple.”
Ron snorted and mumbled something about it being an understatement.
“I get as jealous as you do, although I usually have reason to be jealous. I’m quite sure I called your pet a few nasty names too, even though he might have deserved it. And I understand why you and Harry were so upset over the Firebolt, although it did hurt. You don’t have to apologise for not asking me to the Yule Ball first, you more than made up for it,” she smiled fondly as she remembered his clumsy attempt at asking her to dance at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. He had proceeded to spend the following half hour stepping on her toes and generally being completely inept at dancing. She had loved every second of it.
Ron raised his eyebrows.
“Are you talking about Bill’s wedding? You think - you actually enjoyed it?” he asked incredulously. “As soon as I asked you I suddenly forgot every dance lesson mum had ever forced on me, I was positive you were never going to be able to walk again by the end of it all. Also, my hand were clammy with all the nervous sweating, and my arse-“
“Okay, Ron? You don’t have to ruin it,” she interrupted him before he could give her any more graphic details. “My point was that we did everything wrong. Both of us. We both could have done things differently, been more understanding, and maybe had more time together. But we are here now.”
“I just don’t want to lose you, Hermione,” Ron replied quietly.
She kissed him then. Soft and sweet. He’s always had the tendency to be unexpectedly endearing at times. Back when he’d first told her he loved her, for looking over his homework, of all things, it was all she could do to not plant a kiss square on his lips. She’s always had trouble keeping her hand off him, she can admit that now. But there are no boundaries anymore and she can touch and hold and kiss him as much as she pleases. How could he lose her when he surrounds her so thoroughly? She smiles into his lips at the thought and breaks away.
“Never,” she assures him. “I love you.”