Summer of 1996. It was rare, I was there. I remember it all too well.
***
When Ron invited me to spend a few weeks of summer at his family's home I accepted almost too eagerly. I am not sure if he caught the excitement in my voice, but if he had he did not say anything. I arrived on an August morning, the sun had already risen above the orchard warming my skin as I approached the crooked home of the Weasleys. A sense of familiarity rushed through me, I cannot quite explain it but something about it felt like home.
Molly welcomed me with open arms as usual and made sure I had settled into Ginny’s room before lunch was served. It had only been Ginny, Molly and her as Arthur was at work, the twins at their store and Harry and Ron somewhere in the yard.
It was only in the evening that I finally could greet the boys. I didn’t know when Harry had arrived but at that moment I did not care to ask. My focus was entirely on Ron, who seemed to have grown even more over the last month and a half that we had not seen each other. His arms felt strong around me when we hugged and I could have sworn the last time my head was resting near his shoulders. Now I was able to hear his heartbeat.
The rest of the evening was spent with Molly asking detailed questions about the boys' day and scolding them for spending too much time just driving around in his father’s old car despite not being old enough.
“We’re not going on busy roads, Mum and the more I practice the better I will be later on.”
“Still, there is no reason to risk getting caught.”
“I won’t.”
It wasn’t until later that night, that I got to talk to Ron alone. He had texted me and asked to meet outside. When I walked into the summer night, the sun had already set but regardless of the time nights like these never allowed the sky to become fully dark. I saw Ron leaning against the car, his tall frame hugged by an old shirt that had become too small to fit him perfectly. But I didn’t mind.
“Fancy a ride?”
“I don’t know, Ron. Your Mum is probably right about it being too risky.”
“We won’t get caught, I promise.”
I didn’t know what made me get into the passenger's side that night. I have always been a logical girl who follows rules and driving underaged was neither logical nor legal. All I remember is that by the end of the car ride I had fallen hard for Ronald Weasley. Maybe I had been in love with him before that, but if that was the case I failed to realise it earlier.
He drove onto an off-road path at first, rolling the windows down and turning the radio up. Arthur’s old car was only able to play the 80s channel, so we found ourselves singing along to Queen and ABBA. In between choruses, we talked about our summer. He would tell me how he had spent most of his time helping out his mum around the house and garden and I would respond that I had spent most of my time reading.
He chuckled, “Of course,” before turning onto an actual road. It was fairly empty and the light of the moon glistened on the concrete street and his blue eyes reflected the moonshine like the ocean. We kept singing and talking and in between all of it his hand had somehow landed on my knee. It was just us and the quiet of the night, and Ron almost ran a red because he was looking over at me.
***
I have replayed this scene over and over in my head. And I can still picture it after all these days.
Summer had turned into Autumn. Ron into a stranger. And I might be okay, but I’m not fine at all.
Wind in my hair, I was there. I remember it all too well.
***
We managed to sneak back into the house without waking anyone that night. He had whispered good night, reached for my hand and squeezed it once we reached Ginny’s bedroom door before approaching his room. I watched him turn around and smile one more time as he opened the door and disappeared into the room.
The next morning I was woken up by the rays of sunshine peeking through a small hole in the curtains of the bedroom. Ginny was still asleep, snoring softly. I turned away from the light of the sun in hopes of getting a little more sleep, but it was for nothing so I tiptoed out of the room and went downstairs.
Molly seemed like she had been awake for a little while, standing in the kitchen, apron around her waist, “Good morning, sweetheart, did you sleep alright?”
“Yes, thanks Molly,” I smile as she offered me a cup of tea that I gladly accepted.
Sitting down at the table I noticed an old book laying on the table. At a closer glance, I realised it must be one of her old photo albums. The open page showed what looked like a little Percy and Ginny grinning at the camera with the caption beneath reading August 16th 1986, Ron and Ginny.
“Ron used to wear glasses?”
“Oh yes, dear. Didn’t you know?”
“No, he never mentioned it before.”
“Oh,” Molly laughed, “that makes sense I suppose, he hated them. Luckily he only had to wear them for a year or so.”
“Were you ever gonna tell me that you used to have horrible eyesight?” I asked him later that day.
“Who told you?” He stared at me in shock.
“I don’t reveal my sources, Ronald.”
“So my mum then?”
“Sorta. She was looking through an old photo album this morning and I saw one of the photos. I thought it was Percy at first.”
“I'm gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” he laughed, “but yeah I did have glasses, but I forced my eyes to get better so I wouldn’t have to wear them anymore.
“That’s not a thing.”
“Hermione, am I wearing glasses right now?”
“I mean no, but…”
“See,” he grinned, “so it is a thing.” That stupid grin made all logic fade away in the blink of an eye.
We sat there for a while, in the grass in front of his home. Comfortable silence was always easy with Ron.
“I enjoyed our little drive last night,” he suddenly spoke, “we should repeat that sometime soon.”
“Agreed.”
We never did.
***
Summer flew by faster than any of us had anticipated and soon enough it was our last night together. I came into the kitchen to get myself a glass of water in the middle of Molly’s annual back-to-school gathering (she refused to call it a party, even though that was exactly what it was). It was already dark outside and people were slowly going home, leaving only the core family members and Harry behind. Faded music was playing and people were talking.
As I entered the kitchen I was startled by a figure sitting at the table already. I could recognise that figure anywhere, it was Ron.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, I just had to get away for a while,” he replied.
“Why are you sitting in the dark though?”
“No reason.”
I didn’t question it any further. I never did with Ron.
“Hermione?” He asked, “I’m glad you visited this summer.”
“Me too,” I couldn’t hold back a smile and hoped the darkness of the kitchen wouldn’t expose me.
“Do you wanna dance?”
“What?”
“Do you want to dance?”
His voice was genuine. He wasn’t joking or taking the piss out of me, he actually wanted to dance with me.
“Sure.”
He walked over and when he reached for my hand he did it so slowly that the anticipation almost made me faint. We had touched hands before, but something about this moment felt different, more intimate. He pulled me close and we slowly started moving together. It was awkward at first, both of us not knowing what to do and where to step without our feet constantly tripping over each other. But as with everything else with Ron, it got easier as time went on and we ended up moving and laughing together as if we had done this a million times before.
I don’t know how long we were dancing around the kitchen in the refrigerator light, but at one point we had gotten so close to each other that I could practically feel his breath on my face. He must have felt it too as he stopped us both in place, our faces only inches apart. I could make out only some parts of his facial features. His long nose, sharp jaw and his eyes. Even in the dark, his piercing blue eyes were the most beautiful thing in the world. I felt his hand run up left my arm to my neck and I could hear my heartbeat drumming in my ears. This was the moment, he was going to kiss me. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes rising onto my toes when a loud noise filled the kitchen and our moment was ruined by a drunk Harry stumbling into the kitchen.
***
I think about that rare moment all the time. And I know it’s long gone.
I think about him all the time and there is nothing else I can do.
Down the stairs, I was there. I remember it all too well.
***
Not even a month after our almost kiss, I witnessed what it meant to have your heart rip into a million pieces. Ron had made it onto the football team at school and their first game was a success. I was excited for him and wanted to celebrate with him and the team. We hadn’t had an intimate moment ever since that night in the kitchen, but I could have sworn our friendship had progressed into something more. Thus was until I walked into the party only to see Ron and Lavender snogging in the middle of the dance floor. I thought I was hallucinating because there was no way my feelings were one-sided, my summer couldn’t have been a lie.
Harry later told me I had dropped my drink and run out in a matter of seconds, I don’t remember any of it. I only remember running back home, tears streaming down my face for a boy that I never got to call mine. Maybe we got lost in translation, maybe I asked for too much.
I was angry at him because how could he throw this thing between us, whatever you want to call it, away? How could he throw us away? Maybe this thing was a masterpiece until you tore it all up.
I didn’t talk to anyone that night. I avoided the several calls and messages from both Harry and Ginny. I didn’t want to talk to them, and the only person who could have made me feel better was the one who got me crying like this in the first place.
In school, I avoided Ron at all costs. I couldn’t face him. Not yet, maybe not ever again. A week later he called me, I don’t know why I picked up the phone or what I was expecting to hear from him. Maybe I wanted to hear an apology, wanted to hear him say how stupid it was to kiss her or maybe I just wanted to hear his voice one last time.
“I am sorry,” is all he whispered. There was a crack in his voice as if he had been crying.
“Are you two together?”
“Yes.” And you call me up again, just to break me like a promise. So casually cruel in the name of being honest.
***
I haven’t truly been myself since I lost him, since I lost us. It seems ridiculous, we weren’t even officially together, hadn't even kissed. I cried for weeks after that last phone call.
Everything I wanted us to be, now belongs to him and Lavender. All I have left are the memories of last summer.
Memories that I hope haunt him when he takes her on a date in his car, remembering our ride on the very first night, his hand on my knee, our voices echoing through the darkness. Wind in my hair, you were there. You remember it all.
Or when he sits in the kitchen in his home, introducing her to his family. He’ll remember our dance, hands intertwined, lips almost touching. Down the stairs, you were there. You remember it all.
It was rare, I was there. I remember it all too well.