Where is she?
Ronald Weasley thought he knew several things:
- The Chudley Cannons were definitely going to win the league this season, despite Ginny’s insistence that the Harpies were having the best season they had since she had joined the team.
- He was one of the most famous young wizards in Wizarding Britain, being the best friend of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger
AND
3. He was going to marry Hermione Granger, sure they hadn’t been together in nearly a year but they were meant to be and destined for each other.
Ron locked the door to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, prepared to meet Harry at the Leaky Cauldron for drinks after work. He had taken to occupying a space at the beloved pub several times a week since the end of the war.
Harry obliged him occasionally, agreeing to sit with him as Ron got drunk spewing bits of incoherent thought about everything from Quidditch to the way the young witches who came into the to flirt with him. Harry, to his credit, listened intently feigning interest into each of Ron’s outlandish statements.
“Blimey you should have seen the tits on her though Harry!” Ron exclaimed, clapping Harry on the back. “It’s a shame she was too young though, she was still Hogwarts age I’m sure. Besides, we both know I’m gonna marry ‘Mione one of these days.”
At this, Harry had the good sense to look uncomfortable. He knew, as did anyone else with eyes, that Hermione had well moved on and Harry was sick of feeding into his friend’s drunken delusions.
“Ron, haven’t you read The Prophet lately?” Harry asked, shooting his friend an astounded look. Surely Ron knew he had to right?
“Well yea mate,” Ron replied jovially. “Course I do! Gotta check the Quidditch scores now don’t I?”
Harry scrubbed a hand down his face, letting out an exasperated sigh as he prepared his next words.
“Ron, Hermione is already engaged to someone else mate,” he said mournfully, his green eyes full of remorse. Ron smiled gleefully at Harry, clearly not understanding what his friend had meant.
“She really said that? Harry, this is great! I knew she’d come around eventually.”
“No Ron. She’s not marrying you,” Harry said, grabbing Ron about the shoulders. “Ron, it's been all over the papers. There’s a reason she hasn’t been coming round lately, she isn’t even in the country mate.”
Ron looked at Harry, the truth of the situation finally sobering him as his face took on a grim expression.
“Where is she?” Ron asked, his face turning a brilliant shade of puce.
“She’s in France, Ron, celebrating her engagement to Draco Malfoy.”