Yay for quick oneshots! As you know, I don't own this, I just had a plot bunny in my head that wouldn't go away!
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Hermione was nervous. Of course she was nervous; she was almost always fretting about something. But she had butterflies. And her hands were sweating and shaking, and she couldn't stop thinking about it. It wasn't that big of a deal. They had been alone together before. When Harry was knocked out for days at a time, and when Harry and Ron weren't speaking. But this was different. This was for two entire days, and two nights. And after what had happened Friday…Well, it wasn't going to be a bundle of laughs. The entire Burrow was going to be empty. Except for them. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to her sister's house for a weekend, and Harry was with Ginny. They were spending the weekend at Fred and George's shop, to help them stock up for the Holiday Season. The twins had said that two extra workers were more than enough.
Hermione and Ron were going to be alone for an entire weekend.
Oh, God.
"Goodbye, Dears, and don't make to much trouble. Remember to turn off the stove when you're done using it, and don't go into town. Oh, maybe we shouldn't go. I just don't like the idea of leaving you guys alone for a weekend. Especially when we only have a few weeks with you." Mrs. Weasley rambled.
"Mum, its fine. We are sixteen." Ron assured his mother.
"All right, but be careful. If any harm comes to either of you, I am holding you personally responsible!" With that she stepped into the emerald green flames and disappeared.
"Bye Ron. Bye Hermione." Harry stepped into the fireplace. Ginny waved and followed.
Surely Ron could hear her heart beating? They were standing relatively close, and her heart was pounding as if she had just run seven miles.
She had to say something. It was getting awkward. Oh, forget awkward, it was already awkward!
"Hungry?" She squeaked. Hungry? How idiotic can I get? She thought.
"Because I can cook. I'm an okay cook. I can make eggs, and bacon, and sausage, and toast. Tea, do you want tea? Or coffee? I can make coffee. Do you want a sandwich? I think we have turkey. If we don't I can make it with ham." Oh God, JUST STOP TALKING! Ron stood there, looking equally awkward.
"Thanks…I'm fine…" Unlike Hermione, he couldn't talk. It took all of his concentration and will power to form those three words.
Please, just let me say something. Anything. Any bloody thing will do. I really don't want this conversation again. She'll start talking about meat. Ron thought.
"You hungry?" he asked.
"No." She mumbled. Maybe if what had happened Friday hadn't happened, it wouldn't be this unbearably awkward.
"I'm going to go…read." And with that, she ran off to Ginny's room, and collapsed on the bed. Damn. This was my chance. My chance to prove that we can be friends, even after…what happened. She couldn't bring herself to even think it. She scrunched her eyes shut. After her attempt to erase the last 10 minutes events failed, she pulled out Hogwarts, A History. She opened it to her favorite chapter, number 2, Godric Gryffindor and His House. While attempting to lose herself in her book, she failed to notice that the very boy she secretly thinking about, was watching her.
Ron discreetly watched her until she drifted to sleep, after about an hour. It was only 2'o'clock. He climbed up the stairs, thinking about the girl he had loved since he was 13. Ron pulled out his broomstick, and broomstick servicing kit and started to clip the twigs. When he was done with that, he moved onto polishing, doing anything to take up his mind, and to while away time. When it was finally late enough for bed, he threw down his broomstick, a little too roughly, and fell back into bed.
Hermione awoke around one in the morning. Had she really slept that long? She turned around and tried to get comfortable again, after all, she was still tired. She thought back to Friday, that day that was so awful, and yet so…wonderful? Hermione, in all her glorious vocabulary, couldn't find the right word for it.
The snow had blanketed the entire grounds of Hogwarts, and flakes were still falling, thick and fast. She and Ron were walking, leaving tracks in the foot deep snow. Harry was finishing up his homework, which Ron had finished nights ago, when Harry was at his lesson with Dumbledore. They stopped near the tree by the Black Lake, and Hermione sat down. Ron joined her on the ground, and leaned up against the tree. Hermione was freezing, and she couldn't feel her hands. Stupidly, she had forgotten her gloves in her trunk. Ron could see her shivering, and hated it. He hated it whenever she wasn't completely content, when she was worrying about something, or when she was uncomfortable. Ron had his thick gloves on, saving his fingers from the cold Hermione's were suffering through. He pulled off his gloves and took Hermione's hand in his, wincing when her ice cold flesh touched his. He held tight to her hand, despite the fact that the cold was spreading to his hand. She stopped shivering, and gripped his hand back, just as tightly. While he was loosing feeling in his hand, she was gaining some. But the warmth wasn't just in her hand. It was in her heart.
"We'd better be getting back, it's getting late." Ron said. He was right; the sun was almost completely under the horizon.
"All right." Ron sat up, and held out his hand to help Hermione up. She took it, and he pulled her up. They're faces were inches apart. She could smell him, and his smell was her favorite one in the world. It was what she smelled when Amortentia was around her. Suddenly, she couldn't help herself. She kissed him, full on the lips. It was everything that she had been waiting for since she was twelve, and it was worth it. Until the kiss was broken, and she realized that she had no idea whether he loved her as much as she loved him. Hermione blushed a brilliant red, and ran back to her dormitory. Ron stood there, with his hand on his lips, thinking over and over again, Oh, my God, Hermione just kissed me. He stood there for half an hour, and then walked back up to the common room, grinning all the way. Of course, Hermione didn't know that.
The trees scratched on the window, casting spooky shadows across the wall. She was sure that a ghoul was in the closet. She was so tired…Couldn't she just…No. She told herself. No. The thought of sleeping alone downstairs scared her more than staying put. She just didn't want to be alone. She took a deep breath. It'll be fine. I'll just go ask, and if he says no…well, that will be absolutely mortifying, but why would he? I used to sleep in there all the time when Ginny's room scared me like this. She got up, and crept into the hall and onto the stairs, jumping when the stairs creaked. Hermione knocked on the door to Ron's bedroom, and waited for a reply.
"Yeah?" Oh good, at least I didn't wake him.
She opened the door and saw him lying on his bed. Her heart ached at the thought that he might not love her. She fought through the lump building up in her throat.
"Can I sleep in here? The branches are scaring me." In response he scooted over and threw back his blankets. She lay down in his bed, and looked around at the room. No ghouls in here. He wrapped his arms around her, surprising Hermione completely. She fell asleep in his arms.
She woke up late in the morning. Ron was already awake, and was watching her sleep. They hadn't moved since they had fallen asleep.
Hermione knew that she should get up now, because every second close to Ron like this, when he didn't love her back…It was excruciating.
Ron felt her tense up, and hated it. He did this, he made her think that he didn't love her, he made her uncomfortable. Trying to make it better, he gripped her tighter when she started to move. She fought harder, both against him and the tears welling up in her eyes.
"Ron, please…" She whispered.
"No. I'm not going to let you go, not now, not ever. I love you, Hermione. Please don't go." Hermione let her tears fall, and bit her lip.
Ron let out a small laugh.
"No answer? Not even a slap on the face?"
She turned around and kissed him. Wow, did she love to do that.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'" He kissed her, and relished in the fact that he could do that now.
"I love you too, Ronald."
"Hungry?" He asked.
She started laughing at both him and her own stupidity. How could she ever believe that he didn't love her back?
"Because I can cook. Want a sandwich? I think we have turkey, but if not, I can make it with ham." He continued. She playfully smacked his arm as they walked to the kitchen.
She wasn't so nervous about the rest of the weekend anymore.
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