The Woman in White

Ron waited for three days for an owl from his woman in white. He never left his house, staying and looking in vain for an owl that never showed. He found himself sinking into a depression and didn’t like it. He thought of revenge against her for hurting him, but couldn’t think of anything to revenge against. She never lied to him. She never told him anything would come of their encounter. She gave him a night, but she never assumed it would turn into something more.

Ron had been sitting in the same armchair for the better part of the afternoon. His desperation was reaching an all time high. Rising up he reached for his cloak and stormed from his home. Within moments he was at his publisher’s office. A stunned Pansy Parkinson only nodded when he rushed forward and asked if Justin was available.

“Ron, what a surprise……..” He started but was cut off.

“When’s the next publishing or charity event?” Ron demanded.

“There is a gala coming up to announcing upcoming releases and announcements, but you don’t usually…….”

“Put out the word that I will be there, and send me the information.” Before Justin could reply he was gone. Ron was more determined now then ever. After the night he had with her, there was no doubt in his mind that he had found his woman. He only needed to make her see it.

The gala event was held a week later at a very posh hotel. Every publisher and promoter was in attendance as well as reporters getting stories on books due out and news on projects in the works.

Ron was very close lipped to anyone wanted to interview him, saying that he did have something planned, and would make his own announcements when the project was ready to move to the next step.

His eyes were moving about the room searching out anything in white. He avoided being drawn into conversation by moving slowly around the room, always looking for his woman.

His whole body awaken when he saw the familiar feathers watching him. When she knew he had found her, she walked to the dance floor and waited until he reached her.

“Why did you leave?” He asked, as they swayed to the music. When she lowered her head, his impatience began to show. “Whisper if you have to, but please talk to me.”

“I’m afraid.” She whispered. Her words were barely audible but he heard them. She was trying very hard to disguise her voice and he could have told her that she didn’t have to, he still had no clue who she was.

“Afraid of what?” He asked, lowering his head to listen closely.

“I don’t want to be one of those women who you end up hating. I can handle you not knowing who I am, but to be rejected is something that would kill me.” He heard the emotion in her whispers and it went straight to his heart.

He took her hand in his and led her outside, where a calm and warm evening greeted them. Moving to one of the terrace pillars he pulled her behind one of the huge curtains that was decorating the corners.

“Take off the mask.” He told her, holding firmly onto her shoulders. Her eyes held panic for a brief moment. “I won’t take it off, but I want you to.”

“Why can’t you let what happened be a wonderful memory?” she said, still whispering, “I know I will.”

‘How can you say that? Didn’t you feel what I felt?” He asked, glaring down at her.

“Yes, I did,” her whisper was louder but still a whisper, “and it’s a feeling I have wanted for so long. Please don’t ruin it for me.” She was begging him and it hurt Ron’s very soul.

“What about me and my feelings? You can’t share with me what we had and then take it away.” He pulled her body closer to his. “You’re torturing me.”

“That was never what I wanted.” She said.

“What did you want then? A quick hump?” He taunted.

“No.” She said firmly, her whisper forgotten and a vocal word proved her point. She met his eyes and they told him the truth, but he needed this.

“Then prove it. Take off the mask.” He said.

“No,” the whisper was back, “I won’t be one of those women who use you for their own gains. I wanted you, Ron and only you. It didn’t matter what you did for a living, or how much of a fortune you made for yourself, Ron Weasley was always a man of honor, a true gentleman in every way and that’s who I wanted.” He continued to look down at her.

“I came here for you.” He said.

“I know, that’s why I showed up, but I want to remember what we had. A passion at it’s best. I suppose I’m too scared to risk that things will turn ugly.” She tried to pull away but he held her firmly. “I don’t want to think that eventually it will all end in the worst way because of some stupid thing I said or some way I may have hurt you.”

“Isn’t something special worth risking?” He wasn’t about to give up on her. He had her talking, admitting her feelings. He only needed to try harder.

For the longest moment she just looked at him. He wanted to hope but he knew that she was about to smash that hope into a million pieces. A tear rolled down her cheek under the mask. “I wasn’t in Gryffindor house Ron, I’m not brave.”

Ron was stuck for what to say, the tear had stopped him from thinking. She was truly afraid of risking anything. She reached up and kissed his cheek, taking a moment to hold his jaw in her hands. He wanted to reassure her of everything, to promise that things would be alright, but he knew it would frighten her.

“I…..” He couldn’t form a word. He tried hard to think of something to keep her in his presence. She filled his dreams and he had no idea how to make her stay. He didn’t know what to offer her. He had no idea who she was so it not like he could ask her friends what she wanted or what her dreams were.

She eased from his arms and walked away. A moment later he heard the loud crack of apprarition and knew she was gone. After some time he left the curtain and apparated to his own home.

For the next two weeks, Ron sank willingly into a depression. He accepted owls but if they didn’t carry notes from the one he wanted to hear from, he didn’t bother replying. His family and friends invited him to this dinner, or that lunch or wondered how he was, but he didn’t care. She wasn’t searching him out so it didn’t matter to him.

He was filled with thoughts of her day and night and knew that he had held the perfect woman in his arms and she still walked away. He thought of his own actions and how he was vocal about the hurt caused by his former fiancé. Did he push her away by making her afraid? He must have, since she admitted to knowing his character from Hogwarts, but then again his school days were far behind him, and he was a different person now.

He sighed and fell asleep in his armchair. He was in the same jeans and t shirt he had been wearing for the past two days. He needed a shave, he needed a shower, he needed to stop living on delivery and take away. He needed to clean his house up. All of this didn’t matter though.

An owl approached his window and tapped for entrance. Ron let it in, but as soon as it was relieved of its letter, the owl took off again.

Ron felt his heart speed up as he read.

“My dearest Ronald, I thought very hard over how to say what I need to say but then I realized the only way I could was to just come out with it and tell you. I love you. I have loved you for so many years. I knew the young man who held open doors for women, who held when a lady dropped her books, and who was always willing to offer his help if anyone needed it, who always lent a shoulder to anyone. The young man with the bright ginger hair and the magnificent blue eyes. I could lose myself in those eyes and any woman who doesn’t realize it if deserving of solitude. I know that you were hurt by what she had done to you and I know you are careful with your heart. I would be as well.
I never dreamed I would be able to find myself in your arms, and you have made years of fantasies come true. That’s why I will never demand anything from you. I will never try to take advantage of anything you have given me. You have shown me what pure magic is, and I will treasure it for the rest of my life.”

Ron held the letter in his lap, staring out into the night. He fell asleep still clutching the letter to his chest.

Three weeks later Ron was still in his self imposed asylum. Harry and Hermione had come by, staring at the unkempt house and the unshaven Ron. He was sporting a full beard and rarely changed from his pajamas. Harry was on the verge of asking when he last washed, but he feared the answer, if the straggly locks hanging from his head were any indication.

Hermione paid a house elf from Hogwarts to come to Ron’s house and clean up, do his laundry and make him a meal. As Ron ate his first meal in nearly a month that didn’t come in a box, he thought about her. There had to be some way to reach her, some way to find out about her.

He leaned back in his armchair. The only thing he had extreme talent at was weaving stories into books. Telling tales about things that may or may not have happened. He always changed the outcomes to fit what he wanted…….

“That’s it!” Ron yelled out, sitting upright in his chair.

“Sir?” Ron smiled down at the creature that came running on from the kitchen.

“I know what to do!” He yelled out and ran to his office, grabbing a blank parchment and scrawling frantically. The elf scratched his head and went back to work.