Author's Notes: Not mine, just having fun playing with it.
"Come With Me"
Ron Weasley was in heaven and hell at the same time.
Tonight had brought more changes in his life since the day he first set off for Hogwarts. His older brother Bill was married. He wasn't particularly surprised, but he also knew the dynamics of the Weasley family would be irrevocably different from now on. There were no longer just a crowd of much loved red-headed children with a peculiar father and quick tempered mother. One of them had a wife (a blonde wife, no less) and in-laws and a new Weasley family to look forward to starting.
More importantly, at least to Ron, he was holding Hermione's hand. Years of mutual friendship, trust, disappointment and fascination were pressed against his palm. He had taken her hand to dance with her and hadn't let go, mostly because he wasn't sure how to make it happen again.
He wasn't even sure how Hermione felt about it, she was behaving so normally. Chatting breathlessly with anyone who was within ten feet of them, she was acting as though she had held his hand every day of the last year. Or worse, as though it didn't even register that he was touching her. It would be easier to figure out, Ron supposed, if he could bring himself to look at her, but he had used up all his courage earlier.
As Hermione turned to Ginny to tell her again how "absolutely lovely" she looked, his shoulders slumped. This was worse than yesterday or earlier tonight, when the possibility of his meaning something, anything, more than a good friend to Hermione still existed. And then, miraculously, she squeezed his hand and shifted her fingers to lace through his. Ron's heart seemed to jump into his throat, while his stomach plunged. How could so simple a gesture cause such a reaction?
His courage returned full force and he squeezed back, tugging her a little closer, until their shoulders touched. Ginny was being extremely annoying, a little smile playing about her face, as she made a quick excuse to leave them. He just knew she was running off to find Harry and tell him everything. "Bugger her and Harry", Ron thought. This felt too good to worry about them, for once.
Just then, more of the twins' fireworks explode above their heads. With a small, startled jump and little laugh, Hermione turned her face to the sky.
"Oh, look, Ron, they made singing hearts! And aren't those sparkling flowers lovely?" Hermione sighed.
"Now!"
"Yeah, they're pretty good," he replied and slipped behind her. He had to let go of her of hand, but quickly slipped his arms around her waist. He stiffened, waiting for her response, but Hermione sighed again and leaned back into him, resting her head on his chest as she continued to look upwards. Ron was scanning the crowd, although he wasn't sure if he wanted to be noticed or ignored.
"Maybe she's just cold", Ron told himself. "Don't make too much of this. Don't make a prat of yourself. Don't whisper in her ear."
He bent and whispered in her ear. "The twins aren't all bad." Why on earth was he babbling about the bloody twins?
"They seem to be cheering Harry up a bit." Hermione replied, looking over at a laughing Harry, who was now helping Fred and George line up the next set of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. Why was she talking about bloody Harry?
No one was looking at them or standing near them, but Ron knew it was only a matter of time until they were descended upon by wedding guests or Weasleys. Hermione would start talking again and he would lose this moment, this opportunity, this chance. He wasn't sure he was ready to take it, but he knew he'd hate himself if he just let it slip away.
He started walking backwards towards the house, bringing Hermione with him in a silly step that made her almost lose her balance.
"Ron," she laughed "What are you doing? I'm going to fall…"
"Ssssh" he whispered in her ear again. Hermione shivered and stepped out of his arms, turning around to look him in the face for the first time all night.
"Come with me," he said, surprised at how husky his voice sounded. He held out both hands to her and waited.
If she came with him, he would tell her she was lovely and maddening at the same time. He would promise to get better grades, to stop arguing with her, to protect her to the death. He would kiss her and kiss her again and everything would change. They both knew it.
Ron felt as though his future was spinning on the head of a pin, as he watched Hermione consider the implications. He told himself he'd actually be relieved if she said no, but it was a lie. The yearning, the needing, the desire would be worse because they would be hopeless. It would never go away for him. But he wouldn't push and he wouldn't explain. He knew she understood, just as he understood why she hesitated.
"Come with me." All the things he might never be able to say to her were in this simple phrase. Her eyes were bright and he knew she was going to say no. His heart was breaking in pieces and yet, until she spoke, there was hope.
"Come with me." It was barely a whisper.
Hermione nodded.