But a Memory.
This story is based off of my avatar, or the picture of Ron and Hermione's famous DHP1 embrace!
Hermione was mad at Ron. Or, at least, she was. She didn't feel ready to act like she forgave him yet after he came back from suddenly storming out on her and Harry one night. He had burned a hole in her heart. She loved him, and each day while he was gone, her pain got worse. But now, he was back, and as she snuggled up under the blanket he spread across her, she thought of a memory. A memory that, in her eyes, stood out amongst the others. Why? Because of its simplicity and sweetness.
Hermione and Ron were suddenly dropping as their broom descended over the burrow. Hermione caught sight of Mrs. Weasley's worried face that flooded with relief as soon as she saw them. "Ron! Hermione!" she yelled and rushed them into her motherly arms. Soon after, Bill and Fleur appeared. The mood suddenly grew grim. They all knew something had gone wrong. "Mad Eye's dead" Bill said gently. "He blocked a curse heading for Harry" Hermione, having lost a friend, turned around and leaned her head on Ron's shoulder. Ron, as if second nature, wrapped his arms around Hermione, holding her close. His grip tightened as he saw Fred and George appear, one of which missing an ear. Hermione's arms were bent against his chest, and it seemed like their bodies fit perfectly together. His arms were all she needed. Hermione smiled. Ron was all she needed.
Ron Weasley sat outside the tent on nightly watch, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, a small smile playing on his face. He was remembering the time that Hermione forgave him last, only days ago
Tears of anger ran down Hermione's face. "So you came back?" she shouted. "After you just WALKED OUT on Harry and I? you HURT me, Ron. Its unfair that you SUDDENLY just appear again! I mean, I'm happy to see you….i mean, UGH!" she screamed, her voice reaching a shrill level. "HOW DID YOU FIND YOUR WAY BACK, ANYWAY?" He knew Hermione was just acting like she was angry, but he knew she was lonely, and the root of loneliness is love. He knew she had screamed his name into the night until she went hoarse, she knew she cried herself to sleep nightly, whispering that she loved him. But he didn't say any of that, all he said was "I clicked open my deluminator...and it said something. In your voice.." he trailed off.
Hermione's head snapped up, a stray tear running down her face. "And WHAT, exactly, did I say?" she asked in a weak but powerful voice. "You said my name. Just my name. Then, I knew, this would take me where I needed to go." Hermione's face grew puzzled, then a small smile played on her lips. She walked forward, slowly first, then a full on run as she flung her petite frame into Ron's tall, strong arms, and he knew that almost all was forgiven He held her there, for quite a long time, just relishing her smell of Vanilla, the soft waves of her hair, the pale skin against his arms. Ron snapped out of it. He needed to get inside and rest. As he made his way back into the tent and to his bunk, he stopped by Hermione's small figure, which was peacefully lying there, rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep. He ran his fingers lightly through her auburn waves, and placed a tender, feathery kiss on her forehead. "Sleep tight, love" he whispered and slunk down into his bunk.
Hermione suppressed a smile. He thought she was asleep, and he kissed her.
Both Hermione and Ron have a new favourite memory.