Where My Heart Belongs
all this time i've spent without you by my side, i dreamt about you
saw you through the windows in my mind
carved a home for you deep down inside my chest
and i never want to lose such a big part of me again
- come what may, the scene aesthetic
They hadn't really spoken much since the war had ended. Well, that's a lie, they'd spoken in passing, but things had been so hectic and scattered - his brother's funeral and her traveling to Australia to bring her parents home - that a real conversation was impossible. So they hadn't gotten to really talk about that incident - that's what Ron refers to it as, it's better than saying snog session - before the battle. It was on his mind often; whenever he was reminded of Fred and his thoughts grew dark, he would think back to that brief moment when everything felt good and right and it eased his mind, if only slightly.
She was invited to brunch at the Burrow just a few months after everything had ended. Molly Weasley wasn't one to miss a chance to gather her clan together and eat, and since Ron's third year she'd always considered Harry and Hermione part of the family. Lunch was unusually loud and happy, something that the family hadn't experienced for a good while. Hermione avoided looking at him, instead talking to Harry and Ginny for the majority of the meal, and it wasn't until she was preparing to leave that he decided he needed to act now or forever hold his peace. He rose quickly and took a few steps (considering how long his legs are, it didn't take much) to reach her and grab onto her arm lightly, but enough to get her attention.
"Can I talk to you?" He asked, his hand still on her arm. Her eyes questioned his motives, but she nodded and agreed, and he let his hand slide down until it met hers and he led her away from the house and into the garden, sitting down on a small bench that Ginny kept for when she wanted to sit outside and draw. Sure, it wasn't his ideal spot to speak to her for the first time after the incident, but it was going to have to do.
"I never told you what happened the night I destroyed the horcrux." He spoke quietly, figuring that this was as good a place as any to start. She gave him one of her looks, one that said 'Go ahead, I'm listening.' Ron shifted in his spot, getting comfortable, and then raised his head to meet Hermione's eyes. "You know how I got back, pulled Harry and the sword from the water and all that. Dunno why he was so insistent that I kill the damn thing, but I agreed and he warned me that something bloody insane might happen, since what happened when he killed the diary. So he opened it and these figured appeared, looked like they were ghosts or something, and they morphed into you and Harry." This was where the ache in Ron's stomach started - to this day, thinking about this made him feel ill. Hermione noticed how uneasy he was feeling and placed a hand over his, squeezing lightly. The corners of his lips turned upward and he continued. "You started talking to me, taunting me. Told me mum wanted a daughter and didn't care for me, and - er - told me you preferred Harry to me." Her eyes grew sad and sympathetic and he couldn't look at her anymore, not when she was looking at him like that, and turned his gaze out at the field in front of him as he continued.
"You told me I was nothing, Hermione. You said I was nothing compared to him, that nobody would want me when you could have him, and then he was kissing you and it wasn't like you were trying to fight him off or anything and you just looked like you were going to start ripping each other's clothes off soon and i just, something in me snapped and I stabbed the locket." Ron looked down at his hands, feeling vulnerable and awkward and completely lost in his own skin. His nervous tendencies kicked in and he opened his mouth once more. "Just seeing you with another person, especially Harry, I just felt..." He shrugged, "I guess I just didn't want anyone kissing you unless it was me. Right stupid of me, I know, but-"
And, without warning, she kissed him, her lips soft and familiar although they've only kissed once before, and her small hand cupped his cheek and she pulled away, pressing her forehead to his. "You are the only person," She murmured, her eyelashes fluttering against his, "that I have ever wanted to kiss." A gentle smile spread across her face. "Not Harry, not Viktor, not Cormac," she placed a chaste kiss on one corner of his mouth and then the other, "only you."
"Really?" He replied awkwardly, and Hermione laughed, bringing her hand up to push his fringe out of his eyes.
"Yes, Ron. It's always been you, you prat." She grinned at him, shaking her head, "And if you let some part of Voldemort's soul convince you otherwise, you're completely mental." There was a momentary silence and Hermione bit her lip before letting out a quiet chuckle and nearly whispered, "I could never love anyone else."
Ron's smile grew larger than he ever thought it could possibly be. "You too. I mean, I couldn't either. Love anyone but you." Awkwardly spoken, but true. There was a glow about her when he said that he loved her, and he brushed a finger across her cheek before kissing her again, finding that he really couldn't get enough of this woman all of a sudden. But that was okay, he thought to himself, because she loved him. For some reason he really couldn't understand - he was an arse at times and a right git on occasion - she loved him, and he'd loved her since he could remember, and he had the rest of the time in the world to be with her like this. He figured he'd live to be at least ninety, which meant that he had another seventy-two years to spend with her, and he pulled her into his lap and decided that he needed to make up for the last eighteen years starting right now.
They didn't leave the garden for a while.