Chapter Nine: Confessional

 

           It was cold on the roof, and the wind was blowing around her, pulling small strands free from the ponytail she wore. Hermione sighed and stared up at the moon, wrapping her cloak more tightly around herself. Nothing was right anymore; her baby was dead, things were becoming more and more strained between her and Ron, Ginny was being held captive by a madman, no, two madmen, Draco Malfoy was asleep on the couch in their parlor and Harry had just drunk his fifth Instant Sleep potion, but she could still hear him pacing the floor in the house below her.

           Suddenly, she felt a strong hand on her shoulder, and she jumped.  Ron lowered himself onto the cold rooftop beside her, bracing his feet against the warm orange bricks of the chimney. He put his strong arms around her and she nestled against his warm chest as he rested his cheek against the top of her head.

           "What would you have wanted to call her?" Ron asked suddenly. Hermione sighed again, always amazed at Ron's ability to read her thoughts almost exactly.

            "Lilliana." She said softly. She felt Ron's arms tighten around her and she turned to get her arms around him, burying her face in his soft, burgandy cloak.

             "That's a beautiful name.  Hermione, we can still have children. We should be grateful that we're not in Ginny and Harry's position..." Hermione knew that Ron was trying to say the right thing, but she shoved him away and slid over, turning her attention back to the burning white moon, trying desperately not to drown in the tears that threatened to consume her.

              "Ron, I think I need to go away for awhile." she finally said, stealing a glance at Ron from the corner of her eye. He looked down at the ground below, evidentally fishing about for the best words.

             "Like on a holiday?" he asked, his voice thick. Hermione shook her head.

             "No. I need to go somewhere to be by myself, to think things over. To think us over." she clarifyed. She heard Ron take a sharp breath and he stood up. For a moment he teetered, and her heart stopped until he caught his balance.

              "If that's what you want to do." he said.

               "I'm selfish to do this, aren't I? I'll still help with the search for Ginny, but I'm going to take my things and move into a flat in London, in Diagon Alley."

                "If that's what you want to do." Ron repeated. His voice was void of emotion, and it made it even harder for Hermione to continue.

                "It's just that I can't...I don't know...Ron do you still love me?" she asked in desperation. Ron turned to her, his face hidden by the darkness. She looked up at him, but all she could see was his strong sillhouette, outlined by the brilliant pearl moon.

                "Yes, I love you. But if you don't know what you want to do, if you think you can't be with me anymore, then go. I don't know how I'll be able to sleep at night without you beside me. Maybe I'll help Harry make better Instant Sleep potions." Ron laughed wryly and went down through the trapdoor in the ceiling. Hermione waited a few moments, then followed him, catching him outside their door. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face to his back. She felt him tense up as she spoke, and he didn't raise his arms to touch her, just stood there rigid and unmoving.

               "If you ask me to stay, I will." she said softly. Ron pulled away from her and turned to face her, his eyes bright with anger or tears, she wasn't sure which.

               "I won't make you stay where you don't want to be anymore." he said. He turned and went into their room, closing the door behind them. Hermione lifted her hand to open the door and follow, but she couldn't bring herself to. She returned to the roof. Tomorrow would come too soon.

to be continued...