Ron knows.
It’s been nearly ten hours since Hermione learned that fact, and she’s still not entirely certain what to think about it. Work kept her so busy that there wasn’t time to think about the awkward lunch. Then she had to race to the Burrow to pick up Hugo, already late because her meetings ran long, and the evening has been spent playing cards with her son and losing dreadfully. Now that Hugo’s asleep, though, she can finally sit and breathe and try to figure out this mess called her life.
Only, now that she has free time, she finds herself unable to sit and focus. She can still hear Ron’s accusation that she's mental and see the obvious concern in his expression as he confidently said Teddy was using her. Since she knows Teddy better than he does, even if she doesn't know everything about him, she’s fully aware that Ron’s just projecting his own personality onto him, which isn’t fair at all. While Ron spent most of his early twenties thinking with one particular head, Teddy isn’t that way. They spend more time talking and just enjoying each other than they do shagging, anyway.
There wasn’t time to tell Teddy about her conversation with Ron, and she’s not exactly sure what to say. She has to let him know, of course, but she doesn’t want to deal with explaining how layered her relationship with Ron is if he doesn’t understand how Ron could figure it out. She doesn’t even know if she can explain it, really, because it’s one of those things that has been building since long before she ever thought to analyze it, and, at this point, there are too many moving parts to list.
Now, there’s also another worry that’s come back to the forefront of her mind: telling Harry. A part of her wants to put it off indefinitely, using the excuse of not knowing if this is just a passing interest and not wanting to upset Harry’s life if it is, yet she knows it’s far worse if she doesn’t tell him and he finds out somehow. Even if it doesn’t last more than a brief time, Harry will find out eventually, probably from Ron who isn't going to go telling him, but might very well let slip enough, and it’s better if he hears it from her. In another week or five.
God, she’s pathetic. Harry is either going to accept it, perhaps reluctantly like Ron, or he’ll be angry. It’s not like putting it off is going to change his reaction, though procrastinating might make it worse. The whispers and gossip of strangers don’t bother her very much, as she had to develop a thick skin many years ago and distance herself from caring what people thought of her, but Harry’s like her brother, and he and Ron are the most important people in her life besides the children. If Harry doesn’t approve and can’t accept it, she honestly has no idea what she’ll do. So, maybe she’s being a coward by putting off the reality of having to actually face his opinion, but she’s never claimed to be perfect.
“Ron knows.”
Hermione frowns at the window pane and wonders if hearing voices is possibly an indication that Ron’s allegations are accurate. No, she’s certain she’d know if she were going mental. Wouldn’t she? She’s been thinking too much, obviously, because she’s now hearing her thoughts spoken in an empty room.
“Did you hear me?”
Or maybe not so empty after all. She turns away from the window she’s been staring out of and blinks in surprise when she sees Teddy standing in the doorway of her bedroom. “Teddy? What are you doing here?” she asks in a low voice. Hugo went to bed after nine, but there’s still a chance he might be awake.
“Nice to see you, too,” he mutters as he enters the room. He closes the door and casts a muffling charm before he leans against the wall. “I had to see you. I know it’s late and Hugo’s here, but I Apparated outside, so he wouldn’t hear, and I, uh, brokeyourwindowbutfixeditwhenIwasinside.”
“You what?” She blinks at him and then looks more closely. “Oh my God, what’s happened to you?”
“Ron knows,” he says slowly, speaking to her as if she's a child.
“Yes, you’ve said that several times now,” she points out as she crosses the room to reach him. “That doesn’t answer my question, however. Your lip is bleeding and that eye looks dreadful.”
“Bloody hell, Hermione. Stop fussing over my lip and listen to me. Ron. Knows. About. Us.”
“I know,” she tells him, glaring slightly as he swats her hand away from his bruised eye. She narrows her eyes suddenly and frowns. “Wait, how do you know?”
“You knew?” He frowns and looks her over quickly. “If he hurt you, I’ll kill him.”
“Ron wouldn’t hurt me. Not physically and not any other way if he could help it.” She shakes her head slightly because she feels like she’s two steps behind the conversation, which she hates. He surprised her, though, and her mind was elsewhere, so it’s just taking her a moment to focus. “Did he do this?”
Teddy sighs and shifts awkwardly before he nods. “Yeah, but, uh, it maybe was partially my fault. I should know better than to provoke a brute who prefers fists to wit.”
“Sit down and tell me what happened,” she demands, giving him a look normally reserved for the children or Harry when she’s tired of them being evasive.
“Bossy wench,” he mutters even as he obeys. He sits on the bed and runs his fingers through his dark purple hair. “You were late back to the office, and I didn’t really have any reason to stay since I wasn’t sure if you’d stop by or just go home from your last meeting, so I went by Finnigan’s for a pint and dinner before I went home. Wasn’t home that long before I had a visitor.”
“Ron.”
“Of course. Had no idea why he was there, but I was worried something had happened to you, so I let him in. Then, well, he started going off and accusing me of really terrible things. Said I was using you and a bunch of other nonsense, though he did get the sexy older woman thing right. He wouldn’t listen to me at all and just kept yelling and ranting and calling me a kid until I, uh, provoked him.”
“Provoked him?” she repeats slowly as she sits on the bed beside him. “When did you decide that it was smart to goad an angry Auror who is rather known for having a temper over taking time to talk sensibly?”
“Probably wasn’t smart, but I was sick of sitting in my own flat listening to him ridicule me and insinuate that I was scheming to hurt you and a lot of other lies that he seems to find me capable of. I was fucking tired of being treated like a villain out to seduce the poor divorcee who is too vulnerable to resist my many charms. Not only that, but if I heard him say ‘you stupid kid’ one more time, I’m not sure what I would have done.”
She bites her lip and reaches out to gently touch the swollen skin beneath his eye. “He confronted me at lunch. It wasn’t entirely pleasant, but we were able to talk without resorting to physical violence, except for a slap,” she admits. “He made a rude implication about my morals, basically, and I reacted with poor judgment.”
“I wish I’d have been there to see that,” he murmurs, grinning slightly before he flinches and licks his busted lip. “Don’t know why I thought he’d just use magic, which I could have defended against, or wit, which I would have triumphed at. I never expected him to just be right in my face with his fist against my skin before I could even finish my, uh, statement. I got a good punch in, too, at least. I think. Blimey, he hits hard.”
“What exactly did you say?” she asks suspiciously when she notices his hesitation.
“I don’t really remember,” he tells her, dropping his gaze as he blatantly lies.
“Teddy Remus Lupin, what did you say?”
“God, don’t do that. You sound like a mum, and it makes this entire situation go to a Very Bad Place.”
“If you managed to push Ron into physical violence, it had to be something quite terrible. He might have a temper, but he stopped brawling back when he was your age.”
“I might have suggested that he was so angry because he didn’t want you anymore but also didn’t want you to be with anyone else,” he says with a sigh. “I also might possibly have said that he’s just jealous you found someone clever and charming who’s nearly half his age.”
“Oh, God. That’s just---”
“Low and dirty,” he groans. “I know. It’s why I said I probably deserved the punch. I was just so angry, and he has no right to make me feel guilty when I’m not doing any of those things he suggested and he said things that were just wrong!" He shifts on the bed and glances around the room before he continues. "Um, the busted lip actually happened after the eye, when I brashly kept talking and, uh, took delight in commenting about the little gaspy noises you make when you’re coming and how beautiful you are when you do.”
She gapes at him and blushes even as she feels herself getting angry. “You---noises---that’s---” She reaches out and pinches his lip, frowning when he curses. “That was immature and petty. Not to mention completely out of line.”
“Ow! That bloody well hurt.” He rubs his thumb over his lip and shakes his head. His hair is light blue now, and it’s long enough to cover his face as he looks down at the blanket. “I felt bad after I said it, but it was already too late. It hurts that he thinks I’d ever do those things to you, you know? I mean, the idea of seducing you just to brag to my mates? What mates? Dil certainly doesn’t care, and I don’t really have any others. He should know me better than that, since, as he apparently loved reminding me, he changed my nappies.”
“I can’t believe you actually had the audacity to discuss that with my ex-husband,” she says. “How could you say such a thing and not expect a black eye or worse?”
“I wasn’t really thinking clearly, Hermione. Having that big oaf ranting at me sort of threw me off, you know?”
"Threw you off?" She stands up and starts to pace, curling her fingers into her palms so she doesn't do something drastic like use her wand to blacken his other eye. "You discussed our sex life with my ex-husband. Not only that, but you did so in a way deliberately intended to hurt him and didn't seem to care that you were talking about our private business without my permission."
"It was one of those moments when I spoke without intending to," he says softly. "I'm sorry because I'd never want to make you feel like you can't trust me, but I fucked up. I made a terrible mistake, and I wish I'd been in control enough to be aloof and unaffected, but I wasn't."
She walks back to the bed and sits down, keeping her arms folded as she looks at him steadily. "Everyone makes mistakes, Ted. However, in the future, there will be no discussions with Ron or anyone else regarding our sex life and there certainly won't be comparisons with my ex, or there won't be a sex life. Not to mention the fact that you'll just wish you had a black eye by the time I'm finished with you. Understood?"
"Understood." He reaches out and brushes her hair back from her face. “I apologized to him, not that that makes it any better. When we were both dealing with our wounds, I said I was sorry and told him that I would never hurt you like that. He forgave me, but maybe only because I look so bloody bad and my sitting room was a mess."
"It doesn't make it any better in regards to me, but I'm glad you were able to realize you went too far and were strong enough to apologize and admit it," she tells him, gradually relaxing her arms as she lets go of the anger.
"Yeah, well, he still thinks I'm some evil bastard since he made sure to let me know that he’s watching me and that I’m dead, buried somewhere no one will ever find me, and possibly even tortured first if I ever hurt you. Um, I think he was serious.”
“He was.” She has to smile and bites her lip to keep from laughing but doesn’t succeed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, but, honestly, Ted! Fighting with Ron and threats? It’s a little surreal.”
“You’re telling me. I don’t fight. Not physically, even if I did possibly break his nose,” he says rather smugly. “I heard it crunch, at least, and he was talking funny when he threatened me.” He grins and starts to laugh. “Okay, maybe it is a little funny, in retrospect. God, it hurts to laugh. I think his boot got me in the ribs.”
“Serves you right,” she tells him. Despite her words, she reaches for the hem of his shirt and eases it up so she can look at his side. There’s already a bruise forming, and she pokes and prods to determine if it’s more serious.
“I can just take my shirt off, if it makes it easier,” he suggests, fluttering his eyes at her when she glares at him.
“We’re not playing Mediwitch and patient, so get your mind out of your fantasies for the moment, Lupin.”
“Ah, see, I never mentioned that as being one of my fantasies, so I wonder if you’re merely projecting one of your own on me.”
She blushes faintly and ignores him, which is probably as much an admission of guilt as verbalizing it, but there’s enough leeway that she can deny it, if necessary. “They don’t appear to be broken, but he definitely got you good. Do you want me to cast a basic healing charm to get rid of the bruise?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never been beaten up over a beautiful woman before. Might like the reminder,” he muses. “Not every day that a bloke gets to defend his girl’s honor.”
“It wasn’t my honor in question,” she points out. “It was your evil schemes to bed me and brag that were his primary concern in that particular argument, it seems. I‘m not leaving your eye and lip hurt. Not only would it be inappropriate for work tomorrow when we go observe the interview for the Warrington case, but it would create too many questions and gossip.”
“Right. We don’t want those children under any more stress than necessary,” he agrees quickly, his hair flashing bright red. “We want to get that bloody bastard and not risk the case over my immature provocation of an angry lion.”
“Did you really break his nose?” she asks curiously as she focuses on his eye and carefully performs a series of healing charms. Even if he did, she plans to have a little talk with Ron and set down some rules, and possibly a hex or two.
“Yeah,” he says smugly. “Prat deserved it, so I can’t say I’m sorry about that. About what I said, sure, cause it was out of line. But not about the hit.” He watches her curiously as his hair fades into a familiar shade of turquoise. “Now that Ron knows, is it still a secret?”
“Yes,” she tells him firmly. She sees him frown and interrupts before he can speak. “Ron agreed to keep it to himself until such a time when we might be ready to be open about it. He did insist that I tell Harry soon, though. I’m not sure when I’ll do that, but I assume the right time will present itself at some point.”
Teddy reaches out to grip her thigh as she finishes healing his eye. “Why does it have to be secret if Ron knows? I mean, I don’t have any desire to post an advert in the Prophet telling everyone we’re dating, but why can’t we just stop sneaking around and let things happen?”
“We’re not ready,” she says simply. She looks at him and sighs. “I’m not ready. It’s easy to say that I don’t care what strangers think or how friends might react, but that would be a lie. At least about my friends, as strangers can bugger off for the most part. However, Rose and Hugo are part of this because of me, and I can’t forget that and be selfish just because it’s easier than being secretive. I don’t want them hurt because of me.”
“Are you ever going to be ready?” he whispers, holding her gaze as he raises his hand and moves his fingers into her hair. “Or are you going to let fear and worry dictate your life and risk your happiness?”
Instead of answering immediately, she considers the question as she heals his lip before she replies. “I think so,” she says honestly. “I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, but it’s all I can give right now.”
“It’s better than an outright no or a suggestion that this is just a casual affair that won’t last very long,” he admits. “So, I guess it’s a step in the right direction, which means I can’t complain. But I’m tired of hiding how I feel and sneaking around like we’re doing something wrong.”
She leans forward and brushes a kiss against his mouth, careful of his bottom lip because she knows it must be sore. “I won’t apologize for needing time and wanting to take things one step at a time,” she murmurs, brushing his hair back from his face. As she touches it, it shortens to its normal length. “We are moving in a direction, though, and it’s the right one, if that means anything.”
“It means a lot.” He leans forward and kisses her more thoroughly, moving his hand behind her back as he pulls her closer. When they pull back, he smiles. “You know, if you’re really worried about my injuries, I can always sleep over tonight. My ribs really do hurt, even if your kisses lessen the pain.”
“Incorrigible,” she accuses with a soft laugh. “It’s been a rough day, Teddy. Extremely long and tiring, especially emotionally. You can sleep over, but sleep might be all we do.”
“That’s fine. I mean, I’d love to have sex, because I always love being with you, but it’s not the end of the world if we just kiss and snuggle this time,” he says. “You know, Ron is a bloody fool. His ideas of us constantly having crazy passionate sex all over any possible surface don’t quite measure up to the reality of sleeping with you in my arms . And occasionally having crazy passionate sex. Which is so much better than just having sex and not connecting in any way but the physical.”
“The connection means a lot. As for Ron, I suppose he figures that the only reason I’d be interested in someone your age was for the nearly constant erection,” she says dryly. “When, really, that’s just an added bonus.”
“See, I knew you were after me for my body and stamina instead of my cleverness and charming personality,” he says dramatically as he shifts on the bed. He rolls them over until she’s on her back and he’s perched above her and kisses her again. “By the way, don’t think I didn’t hear that ‘might’. Gives a bloke hope, it does.”
“That’s good, I suppose. After all, where there’s hope, there’s also possibility,” she tells him, reaching up to pull him down towards her. She might be tired and drained after an exhausting day, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t time for kisses.
End
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