For the 'What a boyfriend should do' competition.

Prompts:
3. When she pushes you or hits you, grab her and don't let go.
7. When she's scared, protect her.
15. When she says it's over, she still wants you to be hers.

Pairing: Ron/Hermione

Setting: Australian hotel

Summary: In Australia, Hermione has second thoughts about finding her parents, and Ron tries to make it better.

Making Bad Choices

You're waiting patiently in the bedroom, laying back on the comfortable cream duvet, staring at the white ceiling above you. You're wearing faded jeans and a blue and green checkered shirt, one that Hermione bought for you in a Muggle store a few days ago. It's fairly comfortable, but nothing like your Chudley Cannons t-shirts tucked away neatly in one of the draws.

You're deeply considering changing your shirt, when the door opens and she walks in, wearing nothing but a towel, her wet hair sopping down her back.

She notices you, and gives you a small smile, before reaching for her wand on the bedside table. She dries her hair, and you watch intently, before getting up and going to brush your teeth; she needs her privacy, especially now.

Once you have given her enough time to get changed, you wander back into the room, to see her laying on the bed, like you were not so long ago. She's wearing her pyjamas. The blue and pink ones.

This surprises you. Tonight, you are supposed to be going to go and meet 'Monica and Wendel Wilkins', the dentists from down the road, who are really Hermione's parents. This was the whole point of the journey to Australia, to find them, and fix all of it. You had planned your strategy, you every move, for weeks and weeks. And tonight, all the hard work you had put in was supposed to pay off. She was going to get her parents back.

Yet she was lying in her pyjamas. Not in the blue dress she had planned to wear.

You stare at her for a while, and she pretends she doesn't notice. She looks around the room, carefully avoiding your gaze. Did you get the wrong night? No. You're sure this is the night. Positive even.

"Erm, Hermione?" You say her name quietly, shifting your weight from leg to leg. Merlin, you're nervous.

"Mmhh?"

She's still laying down, and you perch yourself on the edge of the bed. Your hand is inches from her foot, and you see her nails are painted a light shade of blue.

"Aren't we supposed to be going and meeting your parents tonight?"

The words tumble out of your mouth. You feel her freeze, and swallow uneasily.

"Well, yes, but I had a change of thought.." She mumbles, and you frown.

"Were you going to tell me this?" You ask her. You're more hurt than annoyed.

"I thought you would figure it out when I took such a long shower," comes her reply.

She sits up, and looks at you in the eye. "I'm just not ready," she says quietly.

You nod. "I know you're not. But you are never going to be, Hermione. We shouldn't put it off, you'll just feel worse."

It's one of the first times you have tried giving Hermione Granger advice.

"Ron, if I want to put it off, I can! I mean, they are my Parents!"

And the only time you ever will.

She's quite annoyed, judging by the darkness of her eyes and how her fists have clenched. Normally, you would have found this funny, but new experiences have told you that you shouldn't cross an angry Hermione Granger.

You stand up and sigh, running a hand through your hair.

She stands up too, a few feet away from you.

She glares at you, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

"I thought you would understand!" She hisses, and you wince.

"I'm sorry, but I don't," you say simply, not meeting her eyes.

"What don't you get?"

There is venom in her voice, burning through you like hot flames.

"You've been saying how much you want to do this, and now you're backing out." You shrug, and look at her.

She looks on the verge of tears.

"Why don't you support me and my decisions?" She whispers, her eyes wide.

"I do," you reply. "I just don't like seeing you like this.. the last few weeks you've been a shadow of your former self, worrying and crying, and I don't like seeing that. I want to get your parents back so I can get you back."

You speak really meaningfully, thinking you have made your point in a fairly romantic way. You walk towards her, slowly.

Her face doesn't show any emotion, and it frightens you. She's just staring ahead at you, her mouth open slightly. Taking a chance, you reach forward and take her hand.

She snatches it away, rubbing it as if she touched a burning plate.

"If you don't support me, I don't want to be with you!"

Tears are streaming down her cheeks. She doesn't mean it. You know she doesn't. She's scared and frightened, and that's okay. She needs you to help her, to protect her from becoming an empty shell. She knows you mean well, she must.

You reach for her again, but she pushes you away. You try again, and this time she hits you in the chest. It's not hard, but it shocks you for a moment, reminding you of the last time she hit you. You reach for her again. She's sobbing as she tries to stop you, punching your arms, but you grab hold of her and hug her, and finally she succumbs. You feel her knees buckle, and you hold her up.

Her hands scrunch up your shirt, tears spilling onto the checkered pattern she had adored. You gently comb your fingers through her soft curls, and place kisses all over her face.

You don't know how long you stand there, her holding onto you as if for dear life, but eventually she pulls back just enough so she can manage out a few words.

"I'm scared."

Her voice is soft and fragile, and touches your inner soul. It's a weird feeling, but you like it. It's as if your two bodies are conecting in a different way.

"I know," you whisper, placing a tender kiss to her forehead. "But I'm going to be here every step of the way."

She nods, sniffing slightly.

You bring her back into your arms, and rock her gently back and forward, whispering tiny words of affection into her ear. Her fingers play with the hair at the nape of your neck, and you bury your face into her hair.

You end up laying back on the bed, her head resting on your chest. Every now and then, you feel her take in a shaky breath, and hold her closer, until she's laying on top of you.

You know she's frightened. Frightened of not being able to fix the memories, of being a failure. You're unsure of how you can protect her from this sort of fear, but you realize that maybe giving her enough time to find herself in this mess is the right way to go.

"I'm sorry," you mumble. "You're right, you need more time, and I shouldn't push you."

She moves in your arms, and raises her head, her face inches from yours. When she speaks, you can feel her warm breath on your face and it's comforting.

"No, I'm sorry. You're right, I'm not the same. I'm just.. never going to be ready, am I?" She bites her lip doubtfully, and you smile at her nervous habit.

Your silent for a while, just listening to each others quiet breaths, but she speaks again, clearly something she has been going over in her mind.

"But thanks for protecting me, you know?" Her eyes meet yours.

You frown. "Protecting you?"

She nods, her index finger tracing your jaw line. It sends gentle shivers down you spine, something that only occurs when she touches you.

"Protecting me from bad choices," she says quietly, before moving in to kiss you. It's sweet and passionate at the same time, and you love the way she makes you feel so many different emotions at once.

Yeah, sometimes she hits you when she's sad or annoyed. And sometimes she plays the 'I don't want to be with you' card. But you put up with it. She needs you to hold her when she's breaking down, and she needs to see that you aren't going to just walk away. She needs you to love her and question her, and make her see sense. And she needs you to protect her...

From making bad choices.