A/N: Hey everyone, just a random little story that came to me while in class. Hope you enjoy! Reviews are the best.
Disclaimer: Everything Harry Potter related belongs to JK Rowling of course!
It was 3 am, and I smelled bacon.
As I pushed open the door and stepped out onto the landing, the smell got stronger and the familiar sizzling sound reached my ears. That alone was enough to get me hungry, so I began my descent to the kitchen.
It was 3:01 am and I smelled burnt bacon.
By the time I rounded the last corner I could hear Ron's quiet stream of curses and I didn't have to guess to know that he was glaring angrily at the pan in front of him.
I gently nudged his large clumsy hands away from the now slightly smoking pan and took charge.
I briskly disposed of the ruined meat and heard him pull out a kitchen chair and take a seat.
He sighed heavily, "I'm so useless". He sounded so defeated over this small occurrence, but I knew it was more than that.
I turned to look at him. Dark circles under tired eyes, the usual messy hair that framed the frowning face, and the distant look in his eyes had been there ever since Fred died.
I knew there would be no tears. It seemed as though he had run out weeks ago. I knew that I was on the verge of breakdown, but I needed to be strong for him.
The best I could do was try to be my usual self.
"No, you just need to be patient." I mustered up my most natural smile and turned to busy myself with the food. I wouldn't break down, not now. I needed to help him move on and cooking seemed to help the time go by faster.
3 pieces of bacon in the pan and temperature turned low. 3 steps to retrieve the necessary ingredients from the cupboard and a small squeeze to Ron's shoulder on the way by.
I set to work. There was no need for magic; nothing could replace the satisfaction of a job well done.
Two small taps against the table and the eggs slid into the pan. A quick flip of the bacon and the sizzling continued on.
The scrape of the chair on the worn wooden floor and the sudden influx of body heat at my side let me know that he was watching intently. I made no move to acknowledge him and focused on cooking. Somehow the brush of his arm against mine was more than enough for now.
Some flour, water, oil and sugar went into the bowl. A minute of whisking and a third pan was placed on the stovetop and filled with the batter.
I reached around Ron to get the plates and the fingers that simultaneously swept my bushy hair behind my ear sent shivers down my spine.
My face flushed and my ear tingled at the absence of his touch but I continued on with my task. I somehow knew, without looking, that he had stopped looking at the food I was preparing.
Two eggy eyes, a big pancake noise and a bacon smile. My masterpiece was complete.
I held the plate to Ron with a childish grin on my face; I was quite pleased with my work.
He took the plate and admired it while I waited anxiously for a reaction.
Suddenly he grinned. A big, genuine, Ron Weasley grin. He set the plate on the table and lifted me off of my feet in a big bear hug in one swift movement – catching me off guard. He spun me in a circle, his arms tight around my waist and head tucked behind my shoulder. I was so shocked by his sudden reaction that I let out a small shriek of surprised followed by giggles.
He set me on my feet and buried his face into my bushy hair.
"I love you."
He said it so simply, so naturally, like he had been saying it to me for years. And most importantly, he said it like he meant it.
"Likewise". I reached my arms around his neck and together we embraced, breakfast forgotten.
