Title: Come Back to Bed
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Rating: Rated T
Summary: Contains spoilers from DH. Despair, destruction, death, it just wasn't fair.
Disclaimer: I have never owned Harry Potter, nor will I ever, but I can dream can't I?
AN: I was trying to work on another story, but I just couldn't, so I ended up writing this piece instead.
He stood, alone, just outside the open kitchen door. The fresh, cool night air washed over his face, blowing his hair this way and that. It was a good feeling right then.
He couldn't sleep tonight, but then again, he hadn't been able to sleep for the last couple weeks, or more precisely since the war had ended. One man had been the cause of all this grief, loss, sadness – it wasn't fair.
He looked out at the garden his mother was proud of, seeing the gentle dance the plants were doing as the wind swept over them, and the garden gnomes' shadows, as they too, settled down for the night. Everything was beautiful, still, as the world was blanketed in the peacefulness the night brought.
The stars shone brightly in the night sky, positively lighting it up.
His eyes swept over the grounds that surrounded The Burrow – and there it was, his tombstone, a heart wrenching reminder of one of the losses the war had brought about – his brother, Fred.
Sitting through the funeral had been one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do in his life. Everything had become that much more real as he'd sat in his chair, hot tears pouring down his cheeks. Everything the war had brought about, despair, destruction, and death, at that moment, sitting there, surrounded by people he loved; it hit him, with a force to be reckoned with.
He remembered how he'd sat out there hours after everyone had gone inside to give their condolences. Hermione had stayed out there with him, her hand in his, tears silently pouring down her own cheeks.
She hadn't said anything to him at first. But what she'd said when she'd finally spoken, it would stay with him forever, not because it made losing his brother easier, but because it was the truth. "Fred went out a hero Ron, don't you forget it." She'd told him in the strongest and fiercest voice he'd ever heard her talk in.
He'd simply nodded as they'd finally gotten up and made their way into the house.
But still, he couldn't sleep. Nightmares plagued him, like what if she'd died, what would he do without her, Hermione, his heart and soul. He could still hear her screaming at the Malfoy Manor. Everything that had happened, just kept replaying in his head.
So, he did the only thing he knew, he avoided it, if he could avoid the problem, he wouldn't have to deal with it, ergo it wouldn't really be a problem, would it, he'd rationalized. He would come down after she'd fallen asleep, and just stand out here, letting the breeze blow away his fears, his thoughts, everything.
He snapped out of his thoughts when he felt someone press themselves onto him from behind. He shivered as she pushed her warm hand underneath his shirt, running the pads of her fingers ever so lightly on his skin. His eyelids fluttered close momentarily as he took in the feeling of her pressed onto him, her touch, and her smell.
"Come back to bed." He heard her say in a soft voice as she finally ended her sweet torture and withdrew her hand from underneath his shirt as she wrapped both her arms around his waist.
He rested his hand of her much smaller ones. "Nah, I'm not tired. Why don't you go on back, I expect you must be cold?" He told her, turning around to face her as he mimicked her actions and wrapped his arms around her waist as he took in her attire, which consisted of a pair of shorts and a tank top.
She pulled out of his embrace as she went to sit on the steps leading to the door. He followed.
He heard her let out a breath before she spoke: "What's going on Ron?"
He sat down beside her, avoiding her fiery gaze, "Nothing." He said simply.
"So why is you've been sneaking out of bed every night for the past week?"
"Mid-night snack, you know me, I've forever got the munchies." He told her, still avoiding her gaze.
Reaching a hand up she rested it on his face cupping it lightly as she gently turned his face to finally meet her own. "Ron, talk to me. Please." She said, begging him with her eyes more than anything to just let her in, let her know what was going on with him.
He opened his mouth, but faltered and just shut it again as his eyes stayed locked with hers. He shook his head as his eyes filled with tears. He wanted nothing more than to look away, but he couldn't, he just couldn't bring himself to.
He felt stupid, weak, pathetic – he shouldn't be crying, he should be been strong, not only for himself, but for the both of them. How could he protect her if he was the one who looked like he needed protection right now?
"Ron it's not your fault you know." She told him.
"I know." He told her in reply. He knew it wasn't his fault, but he couldn't help feel like somehow he could've stopped it, that he could've helped somehow.
He felt her lower his hand from his face.
"Do you know what I'm most thankful about?" She asked him suddenly, piercing the silence that had once again settled around them.
He shook his head, still staring at her, as she turned her head to look ahead of her. 'God she's beautiful.' He thought to himself.
"I'm thankful that this war is over. That I don't have to be scared that tomorrow I might not see you when I wake up, that we don't have to lose anyone else to this… madness." She said with a breathy voice that would've rivaled Luna's proudly.
She turned back to him, her eyes shining, brimming with unshed tears. She took a few breaths as Ron wrapped his arm around her bare shoulders, pulling her closer to him. He planted a kiss on her forehead as he looked straight ahead, ignoring the heat rising within him as she rested her hand on his thigh, rubbing little circles, which was quite a feat.
"I dream about it, about losing you, about losing everyone. I was scared you know that after the war, you'd be gone, that I'd never get the chance to tell you how I feel. Just… everything keeps replaying in my head you know, Fred, the bloody locket – I can't even begin to tell you Hermione, how stupid I was. That locket, it made everything horrible, made me think things that I knew just couldn't be true. It made me feel like I was worthless. I keep thinking about the war, that everything could've turned out so much differently. Everything, it just won't stop. It's hard to believe that so many people are actually gone you know? That it could've just as easily been you, or me, or anyone else. It's just… It's not fair… I…" He said, his voice trembling as he pushed back the tears as hard as he could.
Her hand found his. "You're an amazing man Ronald Weasley, with a heart of gold, do you know that? You're right, it's not fair, it's not fair that little Teddy's lost his parents before he even knew them. It's not fair that you've lost a brother. It's not fair that Harry's had to bear this… this destiny for as long as he has. It's not fair for anyone, but its life you know? Life isn't always fair, and it isn't always nice, but it is what it is." She paused as she looked at him; his blue eyes were filled with emotion.
Right then, he was an open book, and it hurt her to see him like that. Her heart filled to bursting point with sadness, she wanted nothing more than to crawl under the blankets with him, and just disappear. Wrapped up in his arms, it took her away from everything, from reality, it sounded stupid, but it was true.
His gaze didn't falter as he looked at her. "You needn't worry about me Ronald. I'm right here," she told him, bringing his hand to feel her at the moment, rapid heartbeat. "See? I'm still here and I promise I'm not going anywhere." She told him, with a small smile.
He gently pulled her sideways into his lap as he wrapped his long arms around her small body. His lips covered hers soon after. Her hands raked through his hair, as she turned to straddle him, both trying to get closer to each other. His hands ran up and down her back, finally resting on the bit of skin on her waist that was now revealed as her tank top had ridden up.
Soft groans and moans from the couple filled the quiet night. Ron deepened the kiss, and Hermione, obliged. It was like someone had set off fireworks within them. The passion in the kiss, it was real, it was beautiful, and it was love.
Soon though, the necessity for air came over the both of them, and they were forced apart. He rested his chin on her bushy hair, which smelled faintly of something flowery – it was a lovely scent, one that could only be Hermione's.
Her head rested on his hard chest, feeling the rise and fall of it, as she heard the soft but slowly steadying beat of his heart.
"Hermione… I know, I don't say it enough, but… thank you for just being here, for even giving an idiot like me a second, or like what, tenth chance is it, now, after all the shit I've put you through. I just… I'm sorry."
She bent her head back to look up at him, he was being sincere, she could hear it in her voice – he looked so vulnerable right then.
She planted a chaste kiss on his lips before she took his hand in hers.
"Let's go back to bed."
It was a simple sentence, but it was all the confirmation he needed to know that he was forgiven, that she loved him as much as he loved her. He could never truly forgive himself for being the reason behind her pain and tears so many times, but knowing that she did, it meant more to him than she knew.
They walked back up to his room, where she had magically widened his bed to fit the both of them after Harry had left for Grimmauld Place a week ago. She just hadn't wanted to be alone and in all honesty, neither had he.
Quietly they slipped under the warm blankets. Hermione rested her head on his chest, his arm wrapped around her slim figure, holding her close to him. It had only been a couple of minutes, but he could now hear that Hermione's breathing had steadied, and she was asleep.
He stroked her hair softly, as he; himself finally, allowed sleep to take him into its depths.
And for the first time in a while, he'd slept peacefully.
AN: I really don't know what to think of this piece, I just sort of imagined that this could be how Ron would be feeling after everything that's happened. I think Hermione's character might be a little OOC, but I felt like in the 7th book, she was sort of more outspoken, impulsive.
Anyways, thanks a bunch for reading, and review on your way out please, feedback is greatly appreciated.
-angel6