The Woman in White

Ron entered the café in and looked around. Harry and Hermione had yet to arrive, but seeing as he worked out of his home, he could leave when he pleased and as a result was usually on time for anything. Harry was an Auror now and had to make sure nothing was left in limbo before he left for breaks. Hermione was still in an apprenticeship with Professor Snape and had to make sure potions were stabilized completely before leaving.

He ordered a drink and found a table in the corner. Looking around Ron felt the anger rising up again. He had moved back to England after being in Ireland for five years with his now former fiancé. His twisted, sadistic, malicious, vicious, life sucking former bitch of a fiancé.

He closed his eyes and let his head roll back. He had been so blind when it came to Sara. He fell for every line she tossed his way and he must have looked like a fool for swallowing it all.

He thought back to the infamous day when he had finally seen her for what she really was. She was out on the backyard patio with her girlfriends, about five of them to be exact, having tea. He had been out but came back early. It was his intention to sneak into his office for a brief moment then leave her to her friends, but he ended up hearing more then was planned.

“Trust me Kimmi, I knew I had him the moment I spoke to him that first night.” Sara had said.

“I didn’t think you were serious when you said you wanted him.” Kimmi had told her.

“Come on now, you know she never turns down a challenge.” Ron didn’t recognize this voice among the giggles.

“Challenge? Did you say challenge?” Yet another girl whose laughter distorted her voice. “What challenge was there?”

“Why popping the runt of the Weasley litter of course.” Ron’s whole body seethed with red hot blood. His recognized Sara’s voice even through her giggles.

“Do you mean he was a virgin?!” One of the girls asked.

“He told me he was, and he believes in honesty.” She said sarcastically. “Communication is key to trust.”

Ron felt like throwing a chair through the window. He forced himself to stay still as he listened from his office window. “I can’t believe he asked you to marry him though. I mean he must really feel something.”

“What he feels is fresh pussy.” Sara had said. Silence reigned, then the girls each erupted in laughter. “And I’m not stupid enough to let a good life slip through my fingers.”

“Fresh, my ass Sara,” one of the girls called out, “who are you trying to have fool?”

“You can’t tell me he believed you were a virgin too?” Another asked.

“No, I’m not a good enough actress to pull that off,” more giggles from the girls, “I just reduced the number.”

“By how much?” Ron recognized Lucy from her many visits.

“I told him there were three before him.” She had said.

“Three?” Was that Kimmi again?

“The actual number would be three multiplied by……”

“Stop it.” Sara said. “Leave off, Ron’s a decent man, and I know he will be faithful.”

“Right, but will you?” Someone asked. Ron paid closer attention.

“Of course.” She said.

Laughter erupted again. “Ok, what’s the starting bet for this dry spell?” One of the girls called out. Ron didn’t bother to hear the predictions, he left the house and flew about on his broom and extremely high speeds for several hours.

He didn’t go home that night. He had stayed in a local inn at the neighboring town. Their engagement party was planned for the next day and he was thinking about what he would do. There was no way he was going to marry her. She saw him as nothing but a pastime. A diversion from her own licentious lifestyle who was successful enough to make sure she stayed in that lifestyle. He was a toy to her, and now he was a toy to her friends as well. There was no way he was going through life with her at his side.

He had gotten an owl that night, asking where he was, and reminding him about the party the next day. He didn’t answer it. He just lay there alone thinking of what he should do. He cried, wrecked furniture, repaired it, then cried, then felt depressed then angry. In the early hours of the morning, he finally knew what he would do. He slept for a few hours, waking to another letter from Sara, this time, obviously angry and reminding him of the party that both of their families and friends would be at.

Ron showed up and said not one word. He sat in his chair next to her, going through the check list of plans he had set into motion. When he checked his watch a few times, she knew something was wrong, and tried several times to get it out of him, but he said nothing until Harry showed up. He stood up and told those at the table that he was going out to smoke with Harry. He knew it would piss her off, because she always made comments about him having to quit soon.

He filled in his longtime friend on what had happened and where he was the night before. Harry was shocked beyond belief. He offered Ron his guest room if he was coming back to England, and Ron readily accepted, even if it was only long enough to find his own place. He would be back in his home country as soon as he tied up loose ends. He already hired three of the house elves the inn employed to moved everything he owned out of the house he shared with Sara. By now his belongings would be safely packed in two charmed rucksacks in his inn room.

He calmly went back to the party and sat down. Harry was the only one aware of what was about to happen, and when Ron was asked for a speech, he spoke his mind. He told Sara that he knew about the lies she told him, how there were more then three men in her life and that he was just another in a very, very, very, very long line. The entire room was silent as Ron announced that there was no way he was marrying a woman who only wanted to break in the youngest Weasley male, then use him to have an easy life.

By this time, Ron’s own parents were seeing red, and Sara’s parents were looking at their daughter in disbelief. Ron calmly thanked everyone for showing up, offered his apologies to his family and friends for taking an unnecessary trip but asking them to continue enjoying themselves and then calmly left the hall. Harry had agreed to tell his parents that he would be in England again soon but for the moment Ron didn’t want to see anyone. He went back to his inn and relaxed in bed, ordering a supper sent to his room.

He saw Harry’s owl and let him in, feeding him from his plate and reading Harry’s note that his parents and siblings had been told and would wait until he came home to see him. Until then they were all there if he needed them. But while he appreciated their support, he only accepted Harry’s offer and only stayed as long as necessary, which ended up being a week.

Now he was firmly settled back in England, having found a small cottage style house in the country. He was a novelist and his publishing house was based in London, so it would make visits easier. It would also make promotions easier. When Ron had lived in Ireland he didn’t make as many trips for parties or signings, now that he was local again, he would be able to take an active hand in marketing his work.

He sighed deeply. He was also distrustful of nearly every woman he came across now. Some of it was obvious, woman who eyed him when he was dressed in what he called ‘Malfoy’ standards. Others knew who he was from his signings or interviews and such. It made him sick to think that there were so many doppelgangers of Sara in the world, prepared and ready with the same lines she used, and he gullibly fell for.

“What’s the frown for?” He looked up and smiled.

“Hello to you too, Hermione.” He stood up and kissed her cheek, accepting her hug as he had done many, many, many, times over the years.

“Have you been here long?” She asked sitting down and waving to a nearby server.

“No, not long.’ He said. It was true, his deranged thoughts had only taken mere minutes off of his life.

“Can I have Earl Grey please?” Hermione asked when the server arrived.

“And a chamomile.” Harry spoke as he came up behind the server. She hurried away as Harry took a seat.

“So Ron, what was the frown about?” Hermione asked, when they were alone.

“What frown?” Ron asked her.

“The one you most likely had when she showed up,” Harry offered, “and I’ll wager I knew who brought it on.”

“Oh Ronald, you weren’t thinking of her again were you?” Hermione whined.

“In a way I was.” It was pointless to deny it. Harry and Hermione knew him too well to be fooled by a lie.

“It’s been over seven months Ron.” Harry told him.

“I was with her for five years Harry,” Ron said back, “and she was my first. Miserable bitch.”

“Ronald.” Hermione groaned.

“Don’t give me that Hermione,” Ron counter before she had time to add more, “what would you do or say after being with a man for five years, living with him and planning to marry, only to find out that you were a toy and to find out that there was now a wager on the faithfulness of said man after your marriage?” Hermione stared at him without saying a word. “That’s what I thought.”

“Ok, I’ll give you that, but are you going to hate every woman you see now?” She asked him.

“I don’t hate you.” He offered with a grin. Hermione only rubbed her eyes with her palms. “Let me ask you this, are you planning on using a man for fun, telling him you love him and there isn’t anyone else, all the while going back to your friends and laughing at his reactions?”

“Of course not.” She answered.

“Well, she did.” Ron told her. “And I will be angry as long as I need to be.”

Hermione said nothing more, knowing he was right. He deserved to heal for as long as he needed to. Harry’s eyes went back and forth from friend to friend until the silence became too much. “So Ron, I was going to try and get to the Cannons game coming up, should I get two tickets?”

“Always.” He said, and with a newfound comfortable atmosphere, the three friends had lunch together. It was a weekly tradition they had rekindled since Ron’s return. While he was in Ireland, they were only able to meet once a month.

The peace however didn’t last. As they were finishing up and relaxing with casual talk, a very irritating voice interrupted them. “Mr. Weasley, how nice to see you back in England.”

All three of them looked up at Rita Skeeter with disdain. “Good afternoon Miss Skeeter.”

“May I express condolences for the horrible situation regarding your former betrothed.” She said, sliding into the empty seat at his side.

“Betrothed?” Hermione repeated.

Skeeter ignored her and spoke again to Ron. “Does moving back to your home country mean you are going to find a woman of fine English blood to heal your shattered heart.” Ron sat up and leaned toward her, smiling broadly. Harry closed his eyes and Hermione lowered her head clutching Harry’s hand in both of hers, both well aware of what was coming.

“Miss Skeeter, there is no way I am going to try and find another vindictive, cerebral succubus, bent on milking me dry of breathe, blood, urine and semen with her twat, like I was caught in devil’s snare.” Miss Skeeter leaned away from him with a shocked expression, but Ron didn’t stop. “You can take that quill of yours, most likely fashion from your pussy and write whatever the fuck comes into your head, because like so many women on this planet, you cannot spread the horror, lies, and rampage fast enough, can you?”

He tossed Harry a few galleons for his lunch and left the café. Hermione looked over at the stunned reporter. “He’s still very angry.” She said softy.

A/N: let me know what you think.