Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling
Battles and Wars
A Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Fanfiction
By: DaggerQuill
It hadn't taken Ron long to realize that he wasn't going to be able to sleep. He should have been exhausted, after days of traveling and searching, but he couldn't calm the giddy energy bubbling inside of him.
He had left the hidden protection of his brother's home to be on the run with his best friends. It was absurd how happy he was, because he found them, safe and alive, because after weeks without her even though she was hitting him, he felt her hands on his chest, warm, whole, and here, because she was asleep only steps away. It was absurd that he felt safer with them. Despite the constant danger, he knew he was back where he belonged.
Harry, ever the hero, had gone out to finish his watch, even after he'd nearly drowning in a frozen pond. Ron got out of bed to take over. Outside he could be helpful, useful. He could redeem himself. But he didn't make it to the door before he heard a small sound coming from across the tent.
"Hermione?" he called gently. She was still angry, after all, and if he was wrong, he didn't want to wake her. He heard it again, a quiet sob. Despite her threats of bird attacks he was across the tent in two strides. He sat on the side of her bunk, touching her shoulder through the covers. "Hermione, what's wrong?"
She cried harder. "Get away from me!" He was surprised by the harshness in her voice. He understood that she was mad, but he'd come back for her. Of course, he was going to help Harry fight Voldemort, but it had been her voice he'd heard and the one he'd been longing to hear when he followed it back. He had no intension of getting away.
"No" Ron said, with a kind firmness that he never would have managed before he'd left.
"Listen to me. You have every right to be angry, every right not to talk to me, but I have the right to apologize." He paused hoping she would respond, say something. He reached his hand up to adjust her blankets so he could see her face, but she pulled against them keeping her self hidden.
He took her silence as permission to continue. "I'm sorry. I never should have left. That locket made me think things I would never have thought normally, but that's no excuse. I never should have left you and I'm sorry. From the instant I left all I did was worry about you. It was torture, and I know that I deserved every moment of it, and even then it still doesn't make up for what I did."
Ron sighed, his voice thick when he spoke again. "I know, I'm always making a mess of things, I feel like there's always something I should be apologizing to you for. But I promise you, nothing I ever do will be as bad as this. I will never ever hurt you like this again, Hermione. I'll never leave you again."
Ron waited for her to respond without realizing he was holding his breath. The only answer he received was her tears, which had returned, although much less violently. Then she slowly peeked her face out from under her blankets.
Her eyes were filled with fresh tears and an expression he had seen before. He'd thought it was strange in the Shrieking Shack in third year when she saw his broken leg. He was confused by it in fifth year when they stayed the night in the hospital. He'd found it captivating, and rather liked it, while they danced at Bill and Fleur's wedding. It was an expression he had never understood until now. He marveled at her speechless surprise as she realized he felt it too.
For a long moment they looked at each other in this new way. Until she broke the silence, "Thank you for telling me that," her voice was shaky and quiet.
He could see the sincerity in her eyes. She appreciated what he'd said, his apology, his feelings, and his thoughts. There was a part of him that wanted to tell her his entire life story, just so he could discover which parts would earn that look in her eyes.
But there was another thing that he wanted far more. He reached for her cheek and leaned down toward her.
She moved quickly, twisting her body toward the wall and pulling the covers back over her head, catching Ron off guard, and, rather painfully, knocking his hand away. "But, this doesn't mean I'm talking to you again." She snapped from under the blankets.
Ron laughed and wondered if kissing her could possibly be more satisfying than seeing that familiar flash of anger in her eyes.
He nodded, a lopsided grin playing on lips, and stood. "Goodnight, Hermione." He said. She responded with a "humph."
It was absurd that he wasn't discouraged. But Ron knew there was no reason to be upset about losing a battle, when you just realized you've won the war.
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