'Can I kiss you?', A Romione fanfiction
What am I doing?
Hermione Granger's brain was whirring as she carefully walked through the deserted Hogwarts corridors. She hoped that Harry wouldn't mind her borrowing his invisibility cloak, but she could also imagine that Harry wouldn't even notice it was gone.
Hogwarts was strangely deserted that night. She had expected to have to hide from Filch, or possibly a teacher on patrol, but, so far, nothing. The corridors were silent except for the soft tread of her slippers on the floor, and her own heart beating inside her chest.
Her heart was beating for two reasons. One, she was out of bed at night, violating a dozen school rules in the process. She had broken rules in the past, but they were usually broken in the pursuit of whatever quest against the dark arts that they were undertaking that year. This time was different though- she wasn't breaking school rules to find out information about the Chamber of Secrets, to sneak out of bounds to save Sirius Black, or even to resist the rule of the vile Dolores Umbridge.
She was sneaking out at night to see the boy she loved.
Stop thinking like that! she scolded herself He's been poisoned- he's been unconscious most of the day!
Ron had been poisoned. Somehow, miraculously, Harry had found an antidote. But Ron had been barely seconds from death's door. If that bezoar hadn't been in the room at the time…Hermione felt her heart go icy with terror at the thought of it.
Hermione remembered the argument that had stopped the two of them from speaking for months. She could still vividly recall the hurt that she had felt when Ron had started dating Lavender Brown, as well as the frenzied bird attack that she had used on Ron that same evening. It all seemed so pointless now.
'What's this, my sweet?' came a horrible voice from the next corridor.
Hermione stopped in her tracks. Filch the caretaker, and Mrs Norris.
'Hmm' Filch muttered 'A toilet. Stood in the middle of the corridor. That's very peculiar, isn't it…'
Hermione pushed her hand up to her mouth. She had almost let out a giggle.
'Hmm- looks like a Weasley Wizard Wheezes product' Filch continued, entirely unaware of his invisible eavesdropper. 'I'd best take this to the office. I swear, those accursed twins are not going to cause me any more harm this year, thank Merlin! No more cleaning up toilet-contents from the fifth-floor painting gallery for old Filch!'
Hermione heard the caretaker lift the toilet over his shoulder, and begin to walk down through a side passage towards his office, and his muttering became quieter.
Breathing a silent sigh of relief, Hermione continued onwards.
She climbed several stairs, and was just outside the hospital wing when she heard a distant roar of anger from the second-floor landscape gallery. The Weasley Twins' Regurgitating Toilet ('Now with added cow and sheep dung!') had struck again.
Grinning to herself, Hermione made a mental note to send a letter of thanks to both of the twins the next morning.
She looked from side to side. The corridor was empty.
Swallowing nervously, she opened the door slightly, and slipped through the gap, making sure to close it behind her.
She turned around. The hospital wing was just as quiet as the corridor outside. There was only one occupied bed, with a screen around it. She could dimly make out the form of a tall, skinny figure lying on the bed.
Hermione's heart gave a heavy thud.
Walking quietly past the empty beds, Hermione stopped in front of the screens. Keeping the cloak round her, she pulled her wand out of the pocket of her dressing gown, and pointed it through the fabric of the cloak, towards the door of Madam Pomfrey's office at the far end of the wing.
'Muffliato' she muttered.
She hated using a spell from the so-called Half-Blood Prince, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Hermione could feel her breathing accelerating. She delicately walked around the screen, and her heart seemed to fail.
Ron Weasley was lying under the covers, his messy ginger hair sprawled messily over his forehead. His head was facing towards Hermione on his pillow, and she could hear him gently exhaling as he slept.
Hermione took off the invisibility cloak, and laid it over the back of the chair at Ron's bedside, which she sank into.
Ron's brow crinkled, and Hermione felt her heart go into her mouth. But he exhaled again, and his face relaxed.
Letting out a low sigh of relief (the last thing she wanted was for him to wake up and find her sitting next to him, in the dead of night, in her pyjamas), Hermione gazed at Ron's face. He was paler than normal, but he looks healthier since the last time she had visited him. Although that time had been during the day, and she had been with Harry, Ginny, Fred and George. This time, she was completely alone with him.
Alone with the boy she loved…
Hermione shook her head, chastising herself. This is not the time to be getting excited! No matter how many times you've dreamed of being alone at night with him! He was never unconscious in those, I mean, there was that oil after you read that weird muggle book but-
Ron gave a great snort, and Hermione lost her train of thought.
Ron's chest was rising and falling as he exhaled in his sleep, and one of his arms was laid on the top of the bed-sheets, his hand clenched softly into a fist.
Making a mental note to never tell Ron about those particular thoughts of hers, Hermione straightened her dressing-gown.
Ron's brow furrowed again, and his face harshened in something similar to pain. Several beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. Hermione wondered whether he was having a nightmare.
Hermione could feel her eyes starting to water. She let out a small snivel. Before she knew what she was doing, she had extended her arm and had folded her fingers neatly through Ron's.
Ron's face seemed to soften slightly.
'Ron' Hermione mumbled, tears running softly down her face 'I know I haven't exactly been fair to you, but…well, things have never been easy with us; have they?'
She could feel tears splashing into the lap of her dressing gown. She slowly caressed Ron's hand, feeling callouses from his Quidditch training and the remnants of the brain-scars from the Department of Mysteries.
'You're so impulsive' she rambled, pushing her bushy hair out of her face 'and rude…and obtuse…and baffling….'
She broke off. The words were in her mouth, but she wasn't sure she could say them.
'And…yet….you don't see how much you…amaze me…thrill me…excite me…how much I need you, Ron Weasley.'
She could feel herself leaving the chair, and moving towards him, her hand still interwoven with his. His face seemed to be getting closer, and she could make all every freckle on his face.
With her heart beating in her ears, Hermione opened her mouth, and whispered a single question to the sleeping freckled face.
'Can I kiss you?'
It sounded childish (she could feel her stomach withering with embarrassment), but Hermione didn't really care. She could feel her heart burning for the irritating, confusing, irrational, maddeningly perfect person that lay asleep before her, unaware that she was even there, that she cared so much for him, and that she never wanted to let him go.
Ron's sleeping face broke into a smile, and Hermione felt his hand squeeze hers.
'Her..mio…nee'
Ron's mumble was barely a whisper, but Hermione felt his words echo throughout every fibre of her being.
Her heart leapt into her throat. Hermione could feel Ron's fingers intertwined with hers- warm, strong and so very much alive.
Heat was rising in her face, and she could hear the heavy beating of her heart inside her chest.
Hermione dipped her head down to Ron's face, and, her heart aching to burst, she felt her lips touch him.