For the Love of God, Just Kiss Her!
(A/N okay, here is one of the one shots i have been talking about for oh so long... i hope you all review. if you dont like Ron/Hermione pairings and ur crazy if u dont! then dont read this... this is a one shot i wrote because i was inspired by another author. Now, i am extremely sorry if u are reading this, but i cant remember your name. i am not exactly sure what ur name was or the title of your story, but if u are reading this, i am giving u credit for most of this plot.)
Hermione sat in her room in the attic. Crookshanks was beside her, sleeping. There was a storm outside. Lightning flashed on Hermione's face. It was expressionless. Her father came home drunk again. He was throwing things around in the kitchen, breaking things.
A little less than a year ago Hermione put locking charms on her door that would go in affect every time she shut her door. There was no possible way her father could come in, not even if he tried to knock down the door.
All of Hermione's school things were packed away, safe from her father's hands. Mr. Granger would take them away and ruin them if she did not. The first time he took Hermione's wand, he had killed her mother. That was a year ago. She was sure to keep her things safe since then. He had not gone to prison or anything. He framed Mrs. Granger's best friend, who is now serving a lifetime in prison.
Then, there was the first time that he came home drunk. He beat Hermione. He almost killed her, too. Fortunately, after a long night and lots of rest, Hermione was healed from the charms performed by her that were Auror level, which kept that from happening.
Hermione had become used to her father's behavior and just tried to stay out of his way, but sometimes, that was impossible. He would drag her out of her room, beat her, and then touch her in unusual ways. That was what almost happened tonight. However, Hermione had beaten her dad to her room, the charms immediately going into affect. Mr. Granger had banged on her door, and yelled and cursed and insulted her for about an hour before going into the kitchen to throw things.
Hermione had stayed there in that exact same spot on her bed since then, still wearing her jeans and tee, staring into nothing, lightning on her face every few seconds. She took a glance at her digital clock. 1:47. He usually goes to bed about now. Sure enough, five minutes later, Hermione heard the thud, thud of his footsteps coming up the stairs. She waited another thirty, giving him time to fall asleep. She got up at 2:15, her hunger almost unbearable, and crept down the two flights of stairs and into the kitchen.
There was glass everywhere. Peaceful looking muggle portraits of Hermione lay on the ground, the glass in their frames broken. She tried to step around them, stepping only on the tile. Nevertheless, there was almost no room between, and there was so much of it.
Gasp, no, I almost got that one! Fu- crap! Okay, where do I step from here? Um, maybe I can make it by stepping there. Gasp! Just barely made that one! Whoa!
Hermione lost her balance and had to move her feet dramatically out of place. Her foot landed on a piece of broken glass. It crunched and smashed under her shoe, making a deafening sound and making Hermione cringe at the thought of her father waking up from hearing it.
She stayed absolutely still, her face still in a cringe, waiting to hear footsteps. However, she heard nothing. She counted to fifteen… thirty… sixty, waiting for noise, but none came. Her father must be out cold. She took a deep, but silent breath and kept walking, sure to avoid glass.
Finally, she got to the cupboard. She opened the door to find it almost completely empty. There were a few crumbs here and there, a can of beans or two, and a lovely family of cockroaches. She shivered and closed it.
She crept over to the fridge and opened it. The light flickered and then stayed on. She scanned it. Nothing but alcohol. There was no food in the house. The light in the fridge flickered again before going out.
Crap. Hermione patted her pockets for her wand. She could not find it. She was frantically searching herself for her only survival while not at school when a cold, slurred voice filled her ears.
"Looking for this?" Hermione spun around and saw her father standing at the end of the hall looking at her, twiddling her wand between his fingers. She bit her lip and mentally kicked herself. How could she have left her wand in her room? How could she have forgotten to shut her door?
Another sad thing was that her father was a very good-looking man. He was not over weight, but in fact had strikingly good features. He had dark hair, which complemented his skin tone and eyes, which were dark too. However, ever since he started to drink, this part of him slowly faded away. His warm eyes became cold, as did his heart. He got bags under his eyes that were dark and grey. He grew pale, disturbing his skin tone and making him look unhealthy. You could tell he was once a handsome man with a pleasant personality, but he was now an abusive father and a soulless person.
"Let's have a little chat, Hermione." The seventeen year-old girl eyed her father as he stepped bare foot on the glass towards her, too wasted to realize that his feet were bleeding. Hermione backed into the counter, letting her shoes crush glass also.
He put his hands on the counter on either side of her, her wand in his right hand, which was on her left side. His breath smelt strongly of beer and whiskey. He took another step closer, pinning her hips to the counter using his hips.
"Come on, 'Mione, loosen up. You know, it has been a while since I got a good look at you. You are always up in your room, hiding from Daddy…" He pulled away, giving her a once over.
"You grow up so fast. Why don't you come up to my room and I'll," he started to rub his hands up her stomach and back, pulling her into him, and abandoning her wand on the counter, "make you a woman."
Hermione was screaming in her head. She wanted nothing more than to push him off her and hex or even curse him. Luckily, by now, she had thought of a plan.
She kneed her dad in the area between his thighs and grabbed her wand pointing it at his doubled over form. He lost his balance, and landed on the floor, hitting his head on the open fridge door, and knocking himself out. Hermione looked at him for a moment, trying to think of what to do.
I cannot just leave him here… I will just go up to my room and get my things. I can just apparate to the Weasley's… They have to understand. Hermione ran up the stairs to the attic two at a time. She used her wand to put her things in her trunk, and then dragged it down the stairs, calling, "Come on Crookie!"
Hermione reached the end of the hall. Her father was groaning and starting to get up. He looked at Hermione after his eyes focused and narrowed his eyebrows.
"You," he growled. She widened her eyes and fumbled through her pockets for her wand. She dropped her trunk as her father got up. He stumbled to the counter and leaned on it, before looking at Hermione and starting toward her. It was not in her front pockets… He is getting closer… It was not in her back pockets… He is almost on you… So she reached into her coat pocket and found it there… Only a few feet away…
"Stupefy!" Mr. Granger's hands snapped to his sides and his legs together. Hermione grabbed her luggage and Crookshanks before holding out her wand, and apparating to the Burrow.
There was a loud pop in the Burrow's kitchen as Hermione landed, lost her footing, and fell over her luggage. She landed with an "oof!" and as she scrambled to get up, she stepped on Crookshanks' tail, making him screech and claw at Hermione's hand, drawing blood. Hermione was sitting on the floor, cradling her hand, when a light came on on the stairs.
"What is it, dad? A burglar?" said a boy's voice.
"Don't be stupid, Ron. It's someone breaking in to get a front page story on Harry, of course," said another.
"Shut up," said another boy's voice.
"This is no laughing matter, boys. I'm going down to see…," said a man.
"Oh, do be careful, Arthur!" said a hushed woman's voice.
"Get your wand ready, Dad!" said a girl. The next thing Hermione knew, Arthur Weasley had his wand pointed at her form on the floor, and there were six lit wands pointing at her face, investigating, held by the Weasleys in their pajamas.
"Hermione!" Ron and Harry nearly yelled. By now, all the lights in the house had magically come on, and every one was sighing in relief.
"S'alright, it's only Hermione," said George to Fred and Ginny.
"Only Hermione? Only Hermione? George, Hermione has apparated into our living room at three o'clock in the morning, with her trunk no less; it's the middle of summer- don't you have the decency to think something might be wrong?" said an outraged Ginny.
"Of course I did, but is it a crime to think it can wait until we all get some decent hours of sleep until we ask her?" said George.
"Oh, bugger! I am so sorry for waking you all. This wasn't how I had expected to-" Hermione started.
"No, no, not at all. George is right. Now, I do not want to hear another word out of you until later into the morning. Right now, Arthur and I will make you a bed, and you can tell us everything at breakfast." Mrs. Weasley said.
Hermione thought for a moment. It seemed amazing that all summer, while she was up in her room, there were still day-to-day things to be done, such as sleep and breakfast, in other places. Her life was not the only life.
"Thank you so-," she started.
"Ah bup bup! Not another word. You lot," she looked pointedly at Ron, Harry, Fred, George, and Ginny, "Up to bed!" They went obediently, but just before Ron disappeared on the stairs, he and Hermione made eye contact. He gave her a smile and she returned it.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley waved their wands as a bed made itself on the lumpy couch. It was the most welcoming thing Hermione had seen all summer. She said goodnight to the Weasleys, but as Arthur made his way up the stairs, she held Mrs. Weasley back.
"Yes, dear?"
"Mrs. Weasley, I- I wanted to speak with you about something that I'm not so sure I want the entire breakfast table to hear…" she started.
"What is it? Is everything all right?" she asked.
"Well, not exactly…" she trailed off.
"It's alright dear. I am so flattered to know that you feel you can talk to me about these things! Go on." Hermione took a deep breath and proceeded.
"Okay. It's that… well, my father, he… ever since… and now he… augh…" a small tear ran down her cheek as the two females sat on the couch.
"My dad's a drunk. He is a murderer and an abusive person. He rapes me and he tries to kill me. Then tonight… well, I was in my room, and then he rounded on me in the kitchen. I tried to get away, but he almost got me. I was looking for food- I haven't eaten in almost three days, you see- and then I had to knee him in the- well that doesn't matter. I packed away my things and I had to stun him to get away. I apparated over here and then, well… here I am." Hermione finished.
"Oh, dear." Mrs. Weasley had a few tears herself. She looked at Hermione with the most motherly eyes she had seen in over a year. Then she spoke up.
"I just have one question. Why is it that you did not come here before? Moreover, why didn't you tell Arthur or me about this sooner?"
"I don't know," Hermione said slowly. "I think I was just trying to mask the truth. I was trying to pretend that that wasn't really my life. I didn't want people to think things about me, and I didn't want them to see what really went on. I was ashamed," she answered.
"Oh, you don't need to feel like you are a guest in our house. In addition, the only person who should feel ashamed is your father. Disgracing you like this, forcing you to run away from home. And we actually thought he was civilized when we met him. Well, where's your mother? Why can't she take care of you?" she asked.
"Because she's dead. He killed her with my wand," Hermione replied.
"Dear, dear I am so sorry, I had no-" she started.
"It's alright." There was a silence in which Hermione and Mrs. Weasley realized they shared some qualities.
They both knew that life was life, and no one could do anything about it. They understood that things happen as they do, and flowing with it was the best anyone could do. They accepted the fact that all of this happens before them, and that no matter how many times things change, there will always be consistency in one thing; love.
Know. Understand. Accept.
Hermione hugged Molly and bid her goodnight before pointing her wand at herself and changing into her pajamas from her trunk. She climbed into the sheets covering the lumpiness. She lay down for a moment, eyes open, thinking of the way things just happen. They just happen.
It seemed as though she had just fallen asleep when there was a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her awake, and then stroking her hair out of her face. She opened her eyes to see Ron a foot from her face, smiling down at her.
"Ron? Ron, what are you doing? It's only-" she started.
"Five thirty," said Ron matter-of-factly, "And I came down here to- to talk to you." She groaned.
"Can it wait until morning? I haven't had a full night's sleep in God-only-knows how long. We can talk at br-"
"We can't talk at breakfast. I need to talk to you now."
"Ron, is everything alright?"
"I should be asking you the same thing. What's going on Hermione? Why did you apparate into our living room in the middle of the night? It took Ginny's common sense for me to realize how odd it is… but… anyways. Talk to me Hermione. Is it something to do with your dad?" he asked.
"How did you know?" Hermione asked in a deadly whisper, her eyes wide.
"I heard you mention something about your mother dying last year. So your dad's the only one you live with right? It only makes sense that he must have done something-" but at this, Hermione came out with a fit of tears. Worried, and without thinking, Ron pulled her to him. He held her close as she cried out her troubles.
After about ten minutes of sitting up with Ron holding her while she cried, she pulled back and looked him in the eye. He brought a hand up to touch her face. Who would dare hurt such a beautiful creature? And before he knew it, he was leaning in.
She closed her eyes. What am I doing? Is this right? He's getting closer… Know, understand, and accept. Go with it.
Surprising both herself and Ron, she speeded up the process, and before they knew it, they were indulged into the sweetest kiss either of them had ever had. He knew this was what was supposed to happen. So did she. They held each other, kissing passionate kisses, and hoping no one was coming down the stairs any time soon. Ron rolled over onto her, squishing her gently between himself and the couch. She pulled away as he rolled off her on the other side, his back to the couch's, facing Hermione. Another tear rolled down her face as they looked at each other. As Ron wiped it away, he whispered to her:
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." She smiled. Hermione nuzzled up to him, getting comfortable. She put her arms around him and slowly started to fall asleep.
"I don't think so… you are supposed to tell me what happened," Ron said. He heard her mumble something like, "Nmning," into his chest. In the morning. Herestedhis head down and closed his eyes. He loved Hermione for so long and so much that it pained him to think that things would not always be how they were at that particular moment.
He thought of the worst that could have happened. He pictured Hermione's father beating her with things. He wrapped his arms tighter around her frail body. Such a small, frail body… she would break.
Soon, Hermione and Ron were asleep. However, as it had been before, it seemed as though Hermione had just closed her eyes when something woke her up. Her eyes shot open. At least one thing was right: Ron's chest was still her semi-pillow.
Then she heard what woke her up again. It was the sound of thud, thud on the stairs. She finally realized that whoever was coming down the stairs would immediately be in the living room. They would see her lying with Ron.
In her rush to get up, she fell off the couch with a loud thud, losing her grip on Ron, and tangling herself up in the blanket.
"Hermione, is that you?" it was Ginny, "I was just on my way to the bathroom, are you alright?" she asked, calling down the stairs.
"What- oh, yeah, I'm fine, just tripped on the blanket! Don't come down!" Hermione called. She then heard the bathroom door slam and scrambled to wake up Ron. She grabbed his shoulders and shook.
"Ron! Ron! RON!" she hissed. He jerked awake.
"Wahppin?" he asked stupidly.
"Ron! Look at yourself! Ginny will be coming down the stairs any minute! Get up to your room! I need to get dressed…" Hermione quickly started to rummage through her trunk.
"Aww, can't I watch?" Ron asked with a playful smile. Hermione gave him a look that said something like, "Say another word and I'll stitch your lips together."
And with that, Ron sprinted up to his room and just as Hermione heard the door shut. She heard the bathroom door open. She breathed a sigh of relief, as she magically changed herself into hip huggers and a red tee. She was pulling her hair back into a bun when Ginny emerged from the stairs in her robe and started toward her. She ran up and gave her a hug, saying, "Hey Hermione! We've missed you," and then going into the kitchen to start breakfast.
A minute later, Mrs. Weasley joined her. They had pancakes, sausage, bacon, eggs, and toast. By the time everyone had come down to the table (Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, Harry, and Ron pretending to look tired), everything was ready.
"So, Hermione," said Mr. Weasley, "tell us about your summer and how you've come to be here." There was a murmer of agreement from the rest of them and all eyes were on Hermione. She took a breath and looked at Mrs. Weasley, who gave her a nod of encouragement.
She knew that the Weasley Sr.s didn't want her to spill her life story, but she had to give some kind of explanation for those around her who knew her as the locked away bookworm and the organized, know it all.
But today, right now, this minute...
That would shatter.
She would be known as the girl who was kept locked away and hiding her true home life. She got ready to speak, took a quick chill pill, and tooka breath.
"Okay, well, as most of you know, my mother died last year in a... an accident," she shuddered, thinking of how she was going to say this, "And since then my father hasn't been the same. He has left and gotten drunk, and them done some... some horrible things. Tonight he took it too far. So I came here."
"But Hermione," Harry started, "why didn't you come here sooner? Why did you stay at your house when a dangerous man-"
"It's not that simple, Harry." Hermione cut him off. "I had a reputation to keep. I can't just fall apart. Like, if I revealed my home life, then you would all look at me differently. You wouldn't see me the same. I don't know. Its stupid. Can we just eat breakfast now?"
As Hermione stopped talking, the rest of the table went quiet. An awkward silence followed. And as she tried to finish eating her toast, she felt seven pairs of eyes on her. Trying to change the subject, she addressed the twins.
"So Fred, Georfe, home for the holidays?"
"Yeah..." they replied in unison.
"How's the shop going?"
"Actually, we just ordered some new- oof!"
Fred gave George and evil look that said "shut up. stop talking. right now is hermione time."
Then George gave Fred a reproachful look and looked at his eggs.
The rest of breakfast went by slowly. Hermione stayed in the garden alone afterward, trying to gather her thoughts. She thought about breakfast, and the convorsation. She thought about Mrs. Weasley and her words for her troubles. But most of all- above all- she thought of exactly five thirty that morning. She thought of Ron coming down stairs to-ahem- comfort her. She thought of that kiss. The feelings. The passion. The way that it was so real. Like he would rather die than ever hurt her. And she liked it. It made her feel secure.
But it's wrong.
She sighed and sat with her thoughts for a while more before heading back inside... only to bump into a stirdy- not to mention muscular- chest. She landed hard on the floor, only to look up and see Ron standing there with a worried expression on his face. He was worried. She took a moment to realize what her position was. She was on the floor. Looking up at Ron, who was looking back down at her. And she had just had the best kiss of her life with him the night before. Hm. This needed to be rearranged.
Hermione stood up and then realized this was a mistake. She was less than an inch from his face. She thought more. This was not a mistake. She liked being this close to him. She almost started to lean in. She was soon glad she didn't because right at that moment he decided to speak and ruin it. He started in a whisper.
"I, uh- ahem- just wanted to tell you- well, actually, mum wanted me to tell you, that, uh, you're going to be staying in G-ginny's room til school starts. Ahem, sorry, she wanted me to also tell you that we should move your stuff up to the third floor- that is, Ginny's room- and I didn't know if you wanted to put some stuff away or what-" Ron was cut off by her.
"That would be fine. Thank you, Ron." She smiled seductively at him. Why was she acting like this. Even she didn't know. What was making her act as though she were a... a... scarlet woman or something. But not just anyone's whore... she only wanted Ron. She hauled her luggage toward the stairs, and Ron ran up.
"No, allow me," he smiled. She smiled back at him.
"Thanks." As Ron led the way to the third floor and Hermione trailed behind, she couldn't help but notice...Ron. It was really Ron that she was noticing, too. His outside never really matched his inside, but today was different. Ron was handsome, thoughful, and even those years of Quidditch were showing. Of course, they had been for a while, but then he was just Ron. She had only begun to notice him a few years a go, but was never bold enough to do anything.
I mean... its... Ron
Ron!
"Ron."
"Yeah?"
Crap. She hadn't meant to say his name out loud. How would she play this off? She was Hermione Granger, the smartest witch at Hogwarts... Yet she couldn't get out of a predicament when it came to her best friend who, coincidentlly, has been the opponent in the game of sexual tension.
"Hermione? All right, you?" He was worried. Again.
"I'm fine. Ahem. Really. I am." She smiled, knowing he wasn't believing him. He reluctantly gave a sympathetic smile behind.
"Okay, well... would you... maybe you could..." Hermione cocked an eyebrow. What was he suggesting? Was he suggesting they go out? Because she would like that very much. Or maybe he was saying he wanted to kiss her. She wouldn't mind that either. Possibly, he could even be saying more, but she was too caught up in the moment to think of that now...
"Yes? What would you like me to do... Ronald?" she added suggestively. She hoped to encourage him with his mind as to what he wanted her to do. He grunted and shifted thetrunk in his arms.
"Um, would you get the door... your stuff is heavy." Hermione's heart sank to her toes. Her hopes had been so high...
"Yeah," she croaked. She reached for the doorknob and opened the door. Ron set her stuff on the ground next to the spare bed they had magicked into Ginny's room.
"Thank you, Ron. I shall call you if I need anything and for now, I need to unpack. Good afternoon." And with that she shut the door on him, only to turn around and fling herself on the bed to cry. Why was she so caught up in the moment? It wasn't like he was implying anything at all. I mean... its... Ron! He isn't sensitive, so why would he even begin to think that instead of opening the door he'd rather snog? She shouldn't have been expecting that from Ron. In fact, she even bet that that kiss meant nothing. That it was an accident. Or even that it was a symathy thing. He wouldn't be that romantic. Ever. That's just Ron. And that's just how Ron was.
Hermione humphed. She lay on her new bed and thought some more before falling into a gentle sleep...
"Hermione. Hermione! Hermione! Wake up! Lunch!"
It was Ginny that she saw when she woke up. She groaned, remembering how she had made a fool of herself in front of Ron.
"Fine. I'll be down in a minute," Hermione said. Ginny left. Hermione rolled off her bed and dragged herself over to the mirror and put her hair back in a bun. She rubbed her face and then preceded to walk down stairs. As she got there, she smelled the wonderful aroma of Weasley cooking.
Lunch came and went. And Hermione went into the living room, followed by Harry, Fred, and George.
"Hey Hermione."
"How's it going?" Hermione smiled and said:
"I'm spectacular. You three?"
"Great," all three of them chimed.
They talked some more before Hermione claimed a dizzy head and excused herself. As she got to the third floor, she couldn't help but remember the incident a few hours ago. She shuddered and entered the room. She lay on herbed and before she knew it, another hour had gone by as she had been lost in her thoughts. A knock came to the door. She knew it wasn't Ginny. Ginny wouldn't knock to come into her own room.
"Enter," she called. Ron came in.
Oh no. Fuck!
Hermione sat up on her bed and played it casual.
"You need something?" She saw that worried look in his eyes again.
"Yeah... Hermione, are you alright? You seem off."
"Ronald, I told you, after what happened with my dad, I-"
"It's not that and you know it." He cut her off in a whisper. Why was he asking her these questions? Surely he knew that she liked him more than friends after that kiss.
"Ron, do you mean to tell me that after last night- you coming down to the living room and sleeping there with me, kissing me, and then hiding it from your family- you can't put together why I am being a bit reserved?"
"Hermione, I didn't know that you felt that way, I just thought that-"
"What do you mean you didn't know I felt that way?" she was about to explode, here and he didn't know what to do.
"Hermione, what I mean to say is that I... I... I don't know what I mean to say. I am afraid. I was, at least. I was afraid of you, of losing you, of your feelings, of my own feelings... the list is endless."
"Then why didn't you talk to me about it? That would have been the smart thing to do." Ron sighed. Then Hermione followed suit.
"Hermione... can we... start over? I mean, like since you got here, I have only been wanting one thing... and it would be great if we could start over, you can give me a chance to do that."
Hermione bore a confused look on her face, and Ron took her hands and leaned in. Her head was screaming. This was what she wanted. It could not be more perfect than this.
Their lips made contact, and contact quickly turned into a full blown snog. As they kissed, they didn't know that Fred and George were standing outside, watching the whole thing.
"Pay up, George," Fred said. George reached into his pocket and took out two galleons and a sickle. The twins reached up and zipped their mouths shut with thier fingers. Sharinga grin, they walked away, leaving Hermione and Ron with only eachother's presences.
They hugged and lay on Hermione's bed, only to end up talking for hours on end about everything and nothing all at once.
And that's when Hermione decided.
There was no feeling quite like this one.
Fin.
(A/N awww a happy ending... God knows i could use more of those. almost all my stories end in tragedy. sheesh so how'd u like it? hm? hm? ha ha plz review!i dont like sappy endings but i thought id give it a try. ive been trying new styles lately... read Black Roses and ull see what i mean. k again, review your arses off and check out my other stff too! huggles)