Hermione Granger had a theory about why some couples had managed to stay together for a long time.

It was all about compatibility, she had deduced. Yes, that had to be it. It was all about how two people got on together, and whether they would be able to spend at least five minutes in the same room without launching into some form of a disagreement/fight/row.

This was her theory.

At least, this was how she had always attempted to explain why her relationships never seemed to last very long--not that she had had that many to speak of. She had had three serious boyfriends in her life, and of course, that year-long pseudo-flirtation with Viktor Krum in fifth year (which Ron never failed to bring up as a topic whenever he was in dire need of injecting humor into a given conversation). But she really never classified that one as a "relationship," as most of it had been via owl post (and besides, there had never really been a single moment in that entire time where she actually thought she had genuine feelings for him).

So that was a grand total of three (and a half) relationships in the last nine years, none of them lasting more than a few months at the most. Come to think of it, this current dry spell she was in (it had been a year and a half since she and her last beau, David, had parted company) had lasted longer than her most significant relationship had. Not exactly the track record she had foreseen for herself, that was for sure.

Which brings everything back to her theory. As she saw it, it made perfect sense to her that the reason every one of her relationships had failed miserably was simply this: she was just not compatible with any one of them.

Her parents were certainly compatible. They had loads in common, from what they did for a living, right down to even their favorite bar of soap. Harry and Ginny seemed quite compatible as well; they'd been together for nearly three years now, at least publicly (Hermione had her suspicions that they'd actually gotten together much earlier, but had kept it quiet, for fear of how her family--particularly Ron--would react).

Even Ron had finally found someone as well. He and Elisa Bennett, a seeker for the Chudley Cannons (so fitting, Hermione thought, that Ron would end up with someone who was just as passionate about Quidditch as he was), were fast approaching one year of togetherness. No one was more surprised than Ron at him having managed to make this relationship work; he often joked that Hermione's rather dreadful luck with love had somehow rubbed off on him over the years, something Hermione hoped would work in the other direction as well now that Ron seemed to have found an antidote.

And then of course, there was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who were celebrating forty glorious years together today. If any two people were compatible, it was Arthur and Molly Weasley.

Hermione had never really thought about it before, but looking back on it, she had always looked up to them and their enduring relationship. Oh sure, she knew her parents had a good marriage, but she never really saw their open displays of affection, at least not like the ones Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had often shown. In fact, their marriage had probably formed the basis of comparison for every relationship she had ever entered.

No wonder she had been doomed from the get-go.

"'Mione! 'Mione!!"

Hermione looked down at the four-year old boy tugging at the end of her sleeve. "Well hello there, Parker," she said, scooping him up in her arms. "Fancy seeing you here, eh?"

Parker laughed. "It's Grandmum and Grandad's party!" he said.

"Oh, right... Guess I forgot!"

The little boy laughed even harder and threw his arms around her neck. He was without a doubt her favorite of the Weasley grandchildren (if she had to pick a favorite, that is, as they were all adorable in their own right), though she still had to chuckle sometimes at the irony of her favorite being Percy's son.

"Hermione... I'm so glad you could make it!"

Hermione felt arms envelop her and Parker. She turned around and saw that it was Ginny, who had come up behind them.

"Harry's helping the boys set up in the backyard," she said. "Percy dragged him off before he even had a chance to come in here and say hi to you."

Hermione giggled. "That's fine, we're bound to run into each other sometime during this party."

"I wasn't sure if you'd be able to come," Ginny said. "What with all the packing you still have to do-"

Hermione arched an eyebrow, a gesture which thankfully, Ginny noticed immediately, for she stopped short.

"Sorry, it's just that... I mean, I haven't..."

"Ron's not here yet, don't worry-"

"Guess again, Gin."

Hermione stiffened. Ron had always had an annoying habit of sneaking up on people when they least expected him--or perhaps he seemed to do it only with Hermione, but whatever the case, she was nevertheless startled.

And hoping fervently that he had not just caught the tail end of their conversation.

"I just can't be missing from the action without someone talking about me, can I?"

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief; he hadn't heard anything of importance after all.

"Have these two ladies been trying to steal you away from your favorite uncle?" Ron was saying to Parker, tousling his hair good-naturedly.

Ginny snickered and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ron, that ego of yours! I'm surprised you could fit in the door with a head that big."

Ron clutched his chest dramatically, causing Parker to explode in a fit of giggles. "Words can wound, don't you know that?"

Hermione couldn't resist a laugh at the scene, though she had seen this bit at least a thousand times in the many years she had been best friends with this man. He caught her eye and winked.

"'Lo, Hermione," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Hello, yourself..."

It had not escaped her attention that a certain tall, athletic, disgustingly pretty blonde was conspicuously missing from Ron's side. Elisa was always present at the family gatherings, and Quidditch season was now over (though one would not know it, by the way Ron had taken to telling anyone who crossed his path how Elisa's brilliant catch in the championship game had won the Cannons their first League Cup in over a century), so Hermione could think of no reason why she would not be here.

Not that it should matter to her either way, of course, other than the fact that it simply killed her to see her best friend in any kind of pain--especially when that pain came from a broken heart. And if in fact there was trouble brewing between the two, her shoulder would inevitably be the one Ron would choose to cry on, as always.

She debated for a few moments whether or not to bring up Elisa's absence, but eventually, cowardice won out and she kept her mouth shut. Ginny, however, apparently had no qualms asking him about it straight out.

"So where's the girlfriend, Ron?"

Ron didn't answer straight away, nor did he even look in Ginny's direction. Instead, he was focused on Parker, whom he was tickling mercilessly, so much so that Hermione was struggling to keep upright as the little boy wriggled in her arms.

"Ron?"

"She's... not coming," he said.

Ginny looked at Hermione, but Hermione said nothing. There was a time to speak, and a time to stay quiet, and Hermione had a feeling this called for the latter.

"I'm sorry, Ron-"

"She won't be coming around here anymore." He turned and patted his back, then said to Parker, "D'you want to play horsey, mate? C'mon, then, hop on..."

"Ron..."

Hermione caught Ginny's attention, then shook her head. Not now, she mouthed. Ginny nodded, still feeling awful, if the look on her face was any indication. Ron had bounced off with Parker, and Hermione watched them, wanting nothing more than to go talk to him herself, but knowing he would need time before he could let anyone into his heartbreak.

"Damn it," Ginny muttered. "Things were going so well for them..."

"Yeah," Hermione said absently.

"I can't believe her! Ron's as good as it gets, and she's a bloody fool if you ask me."

"Ginny, come on, we don't know what happened."

"What happened with what?"

Harry came up beside Ginny, sliding an arm around her waist and pulling her protectively towards him.

Hermione sighed, watching Ron and Parker playing, then said, "It's Ron. He and Elisa apparently had a falling out."

"Oh no..."

"We don't know what happened yet, but I'm guessing it can't be too good."

"I'll try and talk to him about it later," Harry said. "When he's had some mulled mead in him and won't mind a little probing..."

Hermione flashed him a grateful look.

"Meanwhile, I have been sent to inform you," he said to Ginny, "that your presence is requested out in the backyard. Seems the twins can't find any candles for the cake. The real ones, anyway, not their joke candles."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Duty calls... I'll see you later, Hermione..."

Harry watched her disappear outside, then turned to Hermione. "I need to talk to you..."

He pulled her into the kitchen, looking out the window one last time to make sure Ginny was out there and busy with the preparations outside.

"Harry, what is it?" Hermione giggled. "What's so top secret?"

"This," he said, pulling out a small box from his pocket.

Hermione felt her eyes widen as he opened it, revealing a stunning diamond ring.

"Oh my..."

"So, it's... nice?"

"Nice? Harry, it's beautiful!! She'll love it!"

He blushed, then closed the box and shoved it back into his pocket. "You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," she said. "First of all, she'll be over the moon that you're proposing, and second, that ring... Harry, it really is gorgeous..."

He smiled, a smile she and Ron had not seen too often on his face during the bloody, drawn-out war, not until Voldemort had finally been defeated and the wizarding world saw peace for the first time in six years, when Ginny had reentered his life.

"I'm so happy for you, Harry," Hermione said softly. "You really deserve this..."

"So do you, Hermione."

She rolled her eyes. "Please, let's not talk about my winning love life, shall we?"

"C'mon, don't be that way," he said. "It'll happen for you too--sooner than you may think."

"Oh, Harry, you know now's not the time for me to be thinking of such things..." She sighed. "I dunno, maybe it's a good thing that David and I broke things off-"

"A year and a half ago, Hermione."

She glared at him. "Yes, I'm well aware of that," she said. "What I'm saying is that it's good that I've got no attachments. No commitments. I can move to Paris with nothing holding me back here." She laughed softly. "Maybe I'll even meet the man of my dreams there. I s'pose it isn't called the most romantic city in the world for nothing."

"Or maybe you'll find him even closer to home."

She looked back at him, jaw unhinged. Managing to collect herself, she closed her mouth. "I know you can't be saying what I think you're saying."

He grinned. "What do you think I'm saying?"

She could feel her cheeks burning, even though he hadn't actually come out and said the words that she knew he was dying to say. "Harry... come on..."

"What?"

"If you're suggesting that... that I... that Ron and I..."

"Who said anything about Ron?"

Now her face really was on fire. And Harry's maddening smile wasn't helping either.

"Funny how he was the first one to come to mind, Hermione."

"Don't even go there, Harry," she said. Somehow the remark came out sounding less like a threat, and more like an encouragement.

"Well you obviously can't use Elisa as an excuse anymore," he said.

"It's complicated."

"So were Ginny and I."

"That's different."

"How?"

She sighed and shook her head. The last thing she wanted to do at this very moment was stand here and explain to him why she and Ron Weasley shouldn't... Honestly, the thought of it! She couldn't even bring herself to think it to herself, much less express the thought out loud.

But of course, it had been something she had carried with her for ten years now. Or maybe it had been even longer than that--maybe she had felt this way from the moment they met on the Hogwarts Express, from the moment she laid eyes on that tall, gangly redhead who was more than a bit annoyed that she had interrupted his spell.

Even now, the memory of it brought a smile to her face.

She couldn't recall the exact moment when she began to fall in love with Ron Weasley; it was more of a gradual realization. In time, she just remembered noticing that there seemed to be an emptiness within her when he wasn't in the room, an inexplicable--almost ridiculous--contentment when he was near her, when he was looking at her, or when she heard his voice. When he was making one of his awful jokes that made her groan all the time, or when he was letting her cry in his arms when someone had broken her heart.

There were times she could barely remember anymore what life had been like before he was in it.

But it was just... complicated. And part of her knew as well it was probably too late now anyway--especially now, when she was about to leave England altogether.

Perhaps the chance had already passed them by a long time ago.

"It just is, Harry."

"Hermione-"

She shook her head, cutting him off. "Harry, you know why."

He was still watching her, as if daring her to continue. And she realized he probably wouldn't give up until she was forced to say it.

"My friendship with you two has been the one stable thing in my life," she said softly. "If I were to lose that... Harry, don't you see? I can't lose him as a friend any more than I could lose you as a friend..."

Harry started to laugh--a highly inappropriate reaction, if ever there was one.

Annoyed, Hermione said, "What?"

"I just can't believe you said that," he said. "Hermione, when are you going to stop doing this?"

"Doing what, Harry?"

"This. What you've been doing ever since fourth year. When are you finally going to admit to yourself that what we have is nothing at all like what you have with Ron?"

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Really?" he said.

She stared back at him, willing herself not to give away any emotion. It would be difficult to hide anything from him, she knew, for no one knew her better than him or Ron.

"You didn't think I knew, did you?" he said. "I know we never talked about it, and God knows Ron never talked to me about it either, but did you really think you two were fooling anybody?"

She turned away and looked out the window. In the backyard, Fred was making animals out of balloons, amusing the children, and Ron looked utterly bored as Percy seemed deep in conversation with him about something. Finally, Ron got up and moved away.

Hermione turned back to look at Harry.

"I don't know what you thought you saw, Harry, but I assure you it's not-"

"Are you scared he doesn't feel the same way?"

Damn it, she should have known he'd know exactly how to do a direct hit on her.

"That's it, isn't it?" he said, when she didn't answer. "You know there's nothing further from the truth, Hermione-"

"You know what, it's too late now anyway," she said. "I'm leaving, remember? And maybe... maybe that's for the best..."

"Like hell it is!"

"Look, if he and Elisa don't get back together, there will be someone else Harry. There always is. Despite Ron's endless claims that he's as unlucky in love as I am. We both know that's a bunch of... codswallop."

She was surprised at the amount of bitterness in her voice; she hadn't meant for the comment to come out that way, and yet it did. She took her eyes off him and bit her lip, knowing if she didn't do something of the like, tears would start gathering in her eyes.

"So when were you planning on telling him?"

She didn't answer.

"Hermione, you're leaving next week, don't you think he has a right to know? If only as your best friend?"

"I'll tell him when the time is right, okay?"

"When?"

"Harry, for God's sake, it's his parents' anniversary party! I am not going to go and spoil anything for him today of all days-"

"Spoil what?"

Hermione let out a gasp so loud she almost came out of her skin.

"Damn it, Ron!" she spat out. "Don't you ever make your presence known before you just jump into people's private conversations??"

Her outburst had apparently surprised him as much as it had surprised her. He stepped back an inch, then looked at Harry, who merely shook his head in a don't ask manner.

It was Harry who was the first to break the awkward silence.

"I think I'll go see if they need my help outside."

They watched him leave, Hermione drowning in guilt over the way she had just treated both of her best friends, and wishing Harry didn't have to leave her in here alone with Ron.

But he did, and now she was left here with Ron, feeling his eyes probe into her.

"What was that all about?"

"Nothing-"

"Nothing! That was not nothing! What were you on about just now-"

"I'm sorry, Ron," she said. "I'm sorry I yelled at you... It was... stupid-"

"What were you saying just now about not wanting to spoil anything?"

She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat was still there, and growing by the second. "Just that," she said. "I don't want to spoil your parents' day."

"But how would you-"

"Come on," she said. She smiled and took his hand, pulling him outside. "I think it's time we joined the party, don't you?"

He gave her a bewildered look, but let her lead him anyway.

Bill stood up and cleared his throat, amidst the laughter of his nieces and nephews, and the playful jeering of his siblings. He cocked an eyebrow at his detractors and proceeded to ignore them.

"As I was about to say..."

The jeering did not die down, and in fact grew even louder; Hermione watched and tried not to laugh. Life was certainly never dull at The Burrow.

"Mum, Dad, as the oldest-"

"Certainly not the most articulate," Charlie quipped, earning him guffaws from Fred and George, to which Percy responded with a sneer.

"-and most beloved child, I have been recruited to deliver the toast."

Mrs. Weasley's eyes began to water. George handed her a handkerchief, which she gratefully took and dabbed her eyes with.

Despite all the distractions, Bill valiantly carried on. "Today we've all gathered here to celebrate your anniversary..."

George could be heard mumbling to Ron, "He sounds like a cleric..."

Ron started to snicker, then somehow managed to stifle it mid-sound. Hermione nudged him hard in the ribs to get him to settle down, and only barely succeeded.

"Forty remarkable years... Mum and Dad, you taught us what true love is and what a marriage is and should be like. And for that, we'd all like to thank you..."

He raised his glass, and everyone else at the table--children included, though their tumblers contained harmless pumpkin juice--raised theirs as well.

"To the best couple we know. Cheers."

"Cheers!!"

At this, Mrs. Weasley abandoned all her effort to keep the tears at bay. They flowed freely now, the dam broken irreparably. "Oh Bill... that was... Arthur, wasn't that just the most lovely speech?"

"Yes it was, Molly."

Mr. Weasley looked as if he were harboring tears as well, but he was doing a much better job than Mrs. Weasley did of keeping them hidden. His face, however, showed the strain, as it had turned into that familiar shade of Weasley red.

"Grandmum, can we have the cake now?" Parker said, the tips of his fingers suspiciously covered with icing.

The entire table rocked with laughter, as Mrs. Weasley got up and retrieved the cake from the adjoining table. "I suppose there's no harm in having it now, is there?"

Hours later, when everyone had had their fill of cake and butterbeer and mulled mead, and was fighting the onset of drowsiness brought on by the multi-course meal, Hermione quietly slipped into the kitchen with Ginny--ostensibly to wash the dishes, but really to have a heart to heart with her. Of course, she couldn't keep her to herself too long, as she knew Harry had been waiting all this time for the right moment to pull her aside. Still, Harry didn't seem to object too much when Hermione and Ginny disappeared into the house.

Hermione just didn't expect to lose her nerve once she and Ginny were alone.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Ginny glancing at her from time to time. Hermione tried opening her mouth several times, but each time, just couldn't bring herself to say the words.

"So," Ginny said at last. Her lips were curved in a small smile, though it was obvious she was trying her best not to show too much amusement. "What did you want to talk to me about, Hermione?" The smile widened ever so slightly, and she arched an eyebrow. "You did want to talk to me, didn't you?"

Hermione hated being so damn transparent.

"Er... well, yeah..."

"Okay, then... I'm right here..."

"Ginny..."

No more words would come out of her mouth. After a while, the sheer ridiculousness of the situation finally got to her, and both women dissolved into peels of laughter.

"Oh Ginny," Hermione said, once she gained some semblance of control, "why is this so hard for me to say?"

"Because maybe you're afraid of what it'll sound like when you finally say it out loud?"

She was right. Of course she was right. Hermione looked down on her hands, still covered in soap, and she let out a heavy sigh.

"The truth," she said quietly. "Do you... do you think that... maybe Ron and I... could have had a chance?"

Ginny opened her mouth, but suddenly, Hermione was overcome with a wave of panic and cut her off before she could even say a thing.

"Wait, I changed my mind. Don't answer that."

Ginny just smiled.

"Even if it's what you want to hear?"

"Trouble is," Hermione said, "I don't know what it is that I want to hear."

"Hermione, do you love my brother?"

She had never been asked that question before, not straight out, anyway. People had asked her in so many words before--her mother, Harry, Ginny before this, and even Mrs. Weasley once.

And she had never been able to give a proper answer, though deep down the answer was an unequivocal yes. It had always been yes.

"It's... complicated," she said, cringing at having to give Ginny the same lame answer she had given Harry earlier. It sounded no truer now than it did before.

Ginny was quiet for a long time, then she said, "I know I can't tell you what to do. But there seem to be a lot of things unresolved between you two. Don't you think you should at least settle them before you leave for good?"

Hermione had been looking out the window all this time, watching Ron playing with the children. At last she nodded without saying anything. Ginny was right.

It was time to have a talk with Ron that was long overdue.

By evening, the rest of the family had migrated indoors one by one. The children had gone up to bed, exhausted from an afternoon of endless play. Ron had matched them in energy, and was starting to show the effects of it, as fatigue rendered him motionless in a chair in the backyard. It was there that Hermione found him, by himself, and with a deep breath, she walked over to where he sat.

"Hi," she said, gently prodding him.

He looked up, grinning when he saw it was her. "Hi yourself."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all." He pulled out his wand and aimed it at another chair. "Accio chair!"

She smiled, and sat beside him.

"Tired?"

"Very. Those children are more energetic than they look, believe it or not."

She laughed. "They looked pretty energetic already, so I shudder to think how much more they are..."

She realized he was looking at her. Ron always had a way of looking at her, as if he could read every single thought in her head. Harry had a similar look, but his never caused her to avoid his eyes. With Ron, though... With Ron, she always felt as if she would inadvertently give something away if he just kept staring long enough.

"Are you ever going to tell me what it was that you and Harry were having a row about earlier?"

"That wasn't a row."

"Could've fooled me."

"We were having a discussion," she said.

"Oh, I see. Well then, will you tell me what it was about, or shall I just remain in the dark?"

Hermione chipped at the surface of the armrest with her fingernail. She was doing everything she could to avoid answering the question, but she knew full well Ron wanted to know the answer.

And in truth, she knew he deserved it.

"I'm sorry about Elisa," she blurted out, surprising herself, surprising him.

"Don't be," he said. "It was... inevitable."

She looked at him. "I thought things were going well?"

"Hermione, don't change the subject."

She blinked back at him, caught in the trap, knowing she'd wasted enough time and she needed to tell him now.

"All right," she said. "There's something... there's something I have to tell you."

He slid up the chair, then leaned forward, waiting for her to start. She could see him from the corner of her eye; she couldn't bring herself to look at him directly in that moment.

"I wanted to tell you this before, but I wanted to be sure I said it in the right way, and then... there was never a right time..."

She felt his hand on her arm, and her skin tingled immediately at his touch.

"Hermione..."

"I'm going away, Ron."

There was a few seconds delay before he reacted.

"What?"

She looked at him. "I'm going away. I've been promoted, Ron. The Ministry is sending me to France. Paris. I'll be an ambassador to the French Ministry of Magic."

He was quiet for a long time, then she saw his eyes darken with pain, and he rose from the chair, his back to her.

"When were you planning on telling me this," he said, "when you had already gone?"

"Ron-"

"You told Harry, you told Ginny--Blimey, Hermione, who else knew before you could come to me and tell me about it?"

"Ron, don't, please..."

He spoke again, his voice breaking when he did.

"Did you think I was going to be selfish and ask you to stay?"

"Yes... No... I... I don't know-"

"God, Hermione, how long have we known each other? How long have we been best friends? You know how much I love you, how could you even think for one second that I would try to hold you back?"

She shook her head. There was no use fighting the tears now; they had a will over their own, tumbling forth from her eyes.

"Maybe because... deep down I wanted you to..."

He furrowed his brow in confusion. "What?"

"Maybe I wanted you to ask me to stay, all right?"

How could he keep looking at her like this? Didn't he know that it killed her every time he looked at her like this?

"What are you saying?" he said, almost in wonderment.

"I... don't know..."

He released a breath, then said, "Forget it..."

"Wait a minute, Ron--don't walk away! Not like this-"

"What do you want, Hermione? Tell me what you want, because you can't have it both ways."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about... the fact that we've been dancing this waltz for the last ten years. I know you know it. You can't tell me you didn't notice things changing between us in fourth year."

Their eyes fell on his arm, where Hermione's hand still was. Slowly, he reached up his hand and twined it with hers.

"Do you want me or not?" he said softly. "The truth, Hermione. Once and for all, just tell me, please..."

She could feel herself trembling. "I... I..."

He didn't let her answer. He cupped her face in his hands, and for the longest time, they looked at each other, knowing in the next moment they would cross that boundary forever and never be able to go back. Then he brought his face down to hers and they kissed.

And somewhere during all of this, Hermione wondered what took them so bloody long to do it.

"You want to know why Elisa and I broke up?" he finally said.

Hermione was still too caught up in the kiss to find her voice.

"It was because I couldn't keep lying to her or myself."

"What... What d'you mean-"

"It's you, Hermione. It's always been you, couldn't you tell? I couldn't be with her when my heart belonged to you."

Hermione reached up to touch his face, wanting to tell him a million things, but not knowing what should come first. And so she said the only thing that made sense.

"I love you, Ron. I have for a long time..."

He grinned, wiping a tear from her cheek. "I know."

She laughed, swatting him on the arm. "Leave it to you to ruin a perfectly serious moment."

He caught her wrist and slid his hand over hers. She watched him as he touched his lips to her hand, kissing it with a reverence that made her ache.

"For the record, I love you too. And not just in a friend way, either..." He reached down and captured her lips, then eased off her. "In that way."

"So... what do we do about... this?"

"This?"

"Me leaving," she said. "I'm supposed to leave next week, remember?"

"Oh that," he said, making her laugh again. He kissed her forehead, leaving his lips there for a few moments, before he finally spoke again. "You know you have to go, Hermione."

"But... but what about..."

"This will always be here. I will always be here. We'll figure it out somehow." He tilted her chin up. "One thing's for certain. We love each other."

She smiled, reaching up on her toes to kiss him again. "And don't you ever forget it."