So this is my reaction piece to that whole J.K Rowling fiasco - personally, I think the media blew everything out of proportion and I saw nothing wrong with what she said. But I started writing it last week before the full article was released and only finished it recently.
No one was listening...for the love of Merlin, no one was bloody listening! Why did no one ever listen to him?!
Desperate, Ron turned to his best friend. "Harry," He pleaded urgently, grabbing hid clothes and shaking him. "Hermione's up there; we have to do something!"
Harry just blinked uselessly, as if he hadn't heard Ron.
"She's up there on her own with-"
He was cut off by the sound of Hermione screaming above them; the sound tore through his body, faster than the Cruciatus Curse being used on the girl upstairs, and Ron felt himself start to crumble from inside.
"HERMIONE!" He yelled, pounding his fists against the wall in front of him - he didn't even wince or stop when his hands started to become sore and bruised. "HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"
Dirty mudblood! Crucio!"
There was another terrible scream. "Please!...I d-don't know anythi- ARRGGHHH!"
Ron heard Bellatrix start to cackle from upstairs. "You are useless! Avada Kedavra!"
It was as if the curse hit Ron himself, and he collapsed against the nearest wall; he was murmuring Hermione's name like a prayer, as if it would bring her back somehow, legs unable to support his weight any longer...
But suddenly he wasn't in Malfoy Manor anymore; he was standing in the sitting room of The Burrow on a sunny day, safe and away from harm. He could hear the sound of people laughing outside, and he suddenly felt a lot better - this feeling only intensified when he saw Hermione and Harry walk past the sitting room, talking and chuckling between themselves.
"Hey!" He called, grinning as he ran to catch up with them. "So, where're we going?"
Harry was the first one to turn to him, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly and not meeting Ron's eyes. "Uhhm... Ron...the thing is."
No. Come on mate. Don't say it-
"Harry and I are together," Hermione finished bluntly, not even sparing him an apologetic look.
Ron's mouth fell wide open. "But...you...he's..." He swallowed the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. "I thought that we were...together and all that. We...We kissed, at Hogwarts."
Hermione just sighed. "I've realized now that I would be... Well, I'd honestly be a lot happier with Harry than if I were with you. I mean, there wouldn't be so much fighting between us."
"Sorry, mate," Harry said, grabbing Hermione's hand and starting to continue walking away with her. "Come on, 'Mione: I booked us a table at that muggle restaurant you like."
Ron could only watch in horror as the girl he loved beamed at his best friend and entwined herself around him; they kissed, as if Ron wasn't even there. "No..."
And yet again the scene was changing again; now Ron was standing in the home that he and Hermione shared with their two children, Rose and Hugo. When he looked up he saw Hermione standing in front of him with Rose and Hugo either side of her - and judging by the look on her face, this was not going to be a positive experience.
Oh fuck, not again.
"We're leaving, Ron," Hermione announced bluntly, giving him a cold look. "I can't do this anymore: the arguing and fighting all of the time." She looked down at their two children. "They can't deal with it either, so I'm bringing them with me."
Tears stung at Ron's eyes as he watched his family prepare to leave him. "No...Hermione, no... The kids... You can't just take them..." He swallowed thickly. "You can't leave, Hermione: I love you."
"I used to love you as well," His wife muttered, almost regretfully. "But then I became older and I realized what a mistake it was to marry you." She took Rose and Hugo by the hand before giving her husband one last cold look. "Goodbye, Ron."
With a crack! noise they were gone - forever.
Hermione jolted awake at the sound of Ron's yell, hurriedly rolling over to face him: by the moonlight filtering through the window, she could see that he was sat up in their bed, panting with his head in his hands as he tried to calm himself down.
"Ron?" She asked quietly, leaning her head on her hand. "Tell me what it was - what you saw."
Ron mumbled something inaudible, still shaking slightly.
Hermione sat up properly and put a hand on his arm tentatively. "It's okay: it's not real, you know. Can you tell me what it was?"
"Torture...you and Harry...the kids, you were all leaving..." That was all she could make out, but she had known him long enough to know exactly what he meant and what he'd seen just by this description.
Hermione gave a small sigh. "I'm fine, Ron. I'm still alive at any rate - clearly - and I don't plan on dying just yet."
He nodded his head, taking deep breaths. "I know...safe..." Ron muttered. "Right...yeah..."
"You know that Harry and I are just friends," She continued firmly. "We're practically brother and sister, in fact. I can assure that I've never had - and never will have - any wishes to marry him or anything along those lines."
"Yeah, I know," Ron admitted sheepishly, as if quite embarrassed by the dream he'd had now - it was clear he knew that it wasn't true now and that he shouldn't have let it get to him so easily.
But Hermione continued to press on, knowing that she had to get rid of all of his fears sooner rather than later. "As for leaving with Rose and Hugo, I wouldn't consider it. And even if I did leave - which I won't - I wouldn't even think of bringing them with me like that and taking them away from you."
This wasn't a common occurrence anymore, of course; it had been fourteen years since the end of the war, and they were now happily married with two children. There was Rose, who was seven and just as bossy as her mother; Hugo was five and quite enjoyed dragons and Quidditch already. But sometimes, especially when one of them was feeling vulnerable, the nightmares would return again.
And Hermione knew why this time.
"Is this because of that article in Witch Weekly?" Hermione asked, and she huffed when her husband nodded. "Honestly... Do I look unhappy, Ron?"
Ron blinked as he looked at her. "Well...you don't look that happy right now, 'Mione."
She rolled her eyes. "Ron, if I was unhappy then I would have said something by now: you know that I would have."
Ron just continued to frown thoughtfully. "But you can't be happy: we argue and fight and.. We had to go to bloody counselling too!"
"Yes," Hermione agreed seriously. "But so do a lot of couples - and we've come out stronger because of it, Ron." When he didn't look at her, she put a hand on his cheek and turned his head to face her. "If I didn't love you, I wouldn't have put up with you for the past decade, would I?"
He grinned sheepishly. "Uhh, no, I suppose you wouldn't have."
"Besides, the arguing isn't completely a bad thing: I mean, it's not good but... I like that we can be so open with each other. I'd rather that than feel like neither of us can say our opinion." Hermione stated truthfully before looking him straight in the eye. "I love you and I'm more than happy with you."
"I love you too," Ron said, voice nothing more than a low mumble.
She smiled at him. "I'm happy because the war is over and everyone can live in peace. I'm happy because we're married and we have two beautiful children - a family that I wouldn't trade for anything. And we have each other." She kissed his forehead affectionately. "You think too little of yourself, love: don't listen to those papers. They're nothing more than a load of rubbish."
As they lay back down together (after all, work was in the morning), arms wrapped tightly around each other, it was with smiles that they both fell asleep.
Before Ron did, though, he grinned to himself with one last though in his mind. Hermione's right, He thought smugly. The papers are worth bugger all when she's with me.
Finished! :D Romione forever, guys, and no one will convince me otherwise.