Author's note:This is just a little one shot I wrote regarding Hermione's thoughts about her love for Ron during the horcrux hunt. I've always thought that she had probably fallen madly in love with him at this point, and would have struggled between keeping her promise to help Harry and pursuing her love for Ron. Please ask me if you want to post this anywhere and give me credit as I have worked very hard on this to try and portray Ron and Hermione exactly the way I love them and J.K. Rowling wrote them! Without further ado, I give you Hermione and her love for Ron.
Hermione blinked her eyes as she stared off into the night. She wasn't sure at this point if the water that had accumulated there was because of the freezing rain that, despite her best efforts to ward it off with a shield charm continued to hit her face as she sat outside the tent, or from her own tears.
When did my spell work get so sloppy?,she thought to herself. I guess there's only so much hunger and cold that a person can deal with before their magic starts to go a bit haywire.
But for once, Hermione Granger was not totally and completely upset by an inability to correctly perform a spell, which would usually follow a trip to the library and a night of practicing her wand work until said spell was perfected. She thought back to nights at Hogwarts when she had stayed up all night in her bed practicing, closing the curtain and continuing to practice when Lavender or Parvati whined about needing their beauty sleep.
What concerned her more were the tears. One would think that her crying would be due to her lack of sleep, or her hunger, or thoughts about the countless amount of ways that they could all be captured and killed considering that she was on the run with the most wanted wizard in the world. But once again, she cried because of Ron Weasley. He hadn't even done something specific to upset her lately, but she could sense his beginning signs of uneasiness and doubt about their mission and it terrified her.
When, she wondered, had her thoughts about him turned from disgust in their early childhood, to friendliness, too now a feeling that she was still sometimes having trouble admitting to herself?
Love. She made herself think it.
"Love." She made herself whisper it out loud.
Ever since she was 11 her life had never been normal or easy. She should have known that one day she would find herself falling madly in love with her best friend while also on the run trying to save the wizarding world.
Of course, she had known in the back of her head for a few years that she had a little crush on Ron. That she felt differently for him than she did for Harry, or any other guy for that matter. Ron was the only boy who had ever made her stomach drop and her heart sore just by looking at her. He was the only boy she had ever truly fantasized about kissing. The whole thing with Victor had just been a spur of the moment type of thing that she had went along with. She figured he was an international quidditch star, and if he wanted to kiss the mousey know-it-all muggle born then she was lucky. Ron was definitely the only boy that Hermione had ever had any sexual feelings towards. A few years ago, she had started to notice his height, the way his shoulders had become broader, his voice deeper. Over the past summer, he really had become a man. She had walked past the bathroom the other night and caught a glimpse of him standing there shaving. Shaving! How had she, the brightest witch of her age, not put it together that an almost 18-year-old boy -or was it man now- would have to shave? She couldn't help but look at his lips and wonder what they would feel like against hers. What they would feel like on her skin. How would it feel to have him pick her up in his strong arms and-Hermione blushed-throw her down on his camp bed and ravish her? How would it feel to have his tall body that was so much bigger than hers on top of her? To feel his attraction to her and finally for once in her life feel like a woman; pretty, like Fleur.
Did Ron know of her feelings? More importantly, did he feel the same way? She had thought that maybe at the end of 6th year when they had finally made up and then this summer that things were moving in that direction. He was complimenting her a lot more, but that could have just been because he felt like a git for how he treated her most of last year and wanted to make up for it. Ronald Weasley sure wasn't one for expressing his feelings, that much she knew. Come to think of it, every man that she knew wasn't much for expressing feelings. It was possible that he did feel the same and just didn't know how to show it. She smirked. How strange was it that boys could be so simple, yet their simplicity often made them more complicated.
The wind began to pick up, making the tent flap open. She glanced inside and saw Ron standing on a chair by the cabinet, probably reaching for some spices in an attempt to flavor their less than mediocre meal that night. He reached up and his hand-me-down shirt rode up a bit, exposing his stomach which she noticed was covered in ginger hairs that ran down as far as she dared to look. In his rush to get the spices, he began to wobble, and suddenly he was crashing to the ground and swearing the entire way down. Harry, who she had just realized was also in the room, had the decency to try to cover his chortling, but eventually broke out in loud peals of laughter. Ron scowled and flashed him a rude hand gesture.
She sighed and rolled her eyes. Her two best friends were too of the bravest and most loyal people she had ever met. They were smart and kind and had taken on a task that most grown wizards wouldn't have taken on. But underneath it all, they were still teenage boys. In truth, she had begun to miss female company. She had never had any girlfriends growing up-actually she had never had any friends until she went to Hogwarts. But during 5th year and definitely by 6th year she had become great friends with Ginny. They could talk about things that she didn't talk about with Ron and Harry. Like boys and sex. Be that as it may, Ginny always wanted to talk about Harry and on the off occasion that Hermione would say something it was always about Ron, making things a bit awkward. They had made it work though. And over the summer, she had become closer to Fleur. She knew what it was like to be at the burrow as a guest. It was a bit overwhelming to walk into a family that big and that closely knit. They had bonded over being there on their own. And secretly, Hermione wanted to figure out exactly how Fleur had managed to nab a Weasley brother.
She was crying in earnest now. She cried for Harry, who didn't deserve to lose his parents and then be forced to fight the monster who killed them. She cried for her parents who were in Australia right now not knowing that they had a daughter whom they probably would never see again. She cried because she was tired and cold and starving. But mostly she cried because of Ron. She cried because he was upset and scared for his family and she couldn't stand to see him unhappy. She cried because if he didn't love her back the way she loved him she would lose the greatest dream she ever had. She cried because she could see how agitated he was getting and was fearful of what might happen if he snapped. She cried because she might never get the chance to make love to him;to feel him inside of her, touching her in a way that no man ever had. She cried because they might never get married and have little ginger babies that she knew he would be the best father to.
She started thinking about how Christmas was getting close and the crummy way they would probably spend it, and suddenly she wasn't sitting on the cold hard ground in the freezing rain in the middle of nowhere. It was Christmas and she was sitting on the couch in the living room at the burrow, a cup of hot chocolate in her hand and her knees curled up, leaning against Ron. He put his arm around her and made a stupid joke. She laughed. He kissed her on her cheek and tenderly brushed her bushy hair out of her eyes. His whole family was there and he didn't care that they knew she was his girlfriend. He loved her.
"Hermione?" The gruff voice woke her from her daydream. She looked up to see Ron smiling down at her.
"You alright?" he asked. She finally made eye contact with him and his eyes looked concerned. She tried not to stare into them for too long. He held out his hand to help her up and she eagerly took it, desperate to have any kind of physical contact with him. She had lost enough weight and he was clueless enough about his own strength that when he pulled her towards him she stumbled and crashed into his broad chest. His hand went to her waist to steady her and lingered for just a second too long. Suddenly he looked a little sheepish and snatched his hand away to rub the back of his neck.
"Well, good night then. Go in and get warm. I left you a cuppa on the table," he said.
"Thank you, Ron. That was very thoughtful. Good night." And before she could second guess herself, she stood up on her tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He looked startled for a second, then smiled. They stood there looking at each other for a few more seconds until she smiled at him for the final time that night and turned to walk through the tent flap.
The warmth of the tent sharpened all of her senses. Had she really just kissed Ron? Grant it, it wasn't the kind of kiss she really wanted to have with him, but it was something. The question was, would she ever get the kiss she wanted? Hermione had been certain at the beginning of this journey that it was better off that nothing had happened with her and Ron. They needed to focus on the mission, and being in a relationship would be distracting. However, now she wasn't so sure. How long would they be out here, in the middle of nowhere? She loved Harry and had promised to help him, but she was IN love with Ron, and she was pretty sure that he loved her too. Did they not deserve some happiness where they could get it?
She collapsed onto her bed and dove underneath the covers, immediately thinking of how much better it would be if Ron were in there with her and all of the things they could do if he was. She couldn't help but smile at her randiness. Her feelings for him were so strong. She thought of him almost every moment of the day now, no matter what she was doing. As Hermione dozed off to sleep, she promised herself to think logically about the situation tomorrow morning and come to a conclusion about what she was going to do. She had promised Harry that this mission was going to be her number one priority, but couldn't there be some room for Ron in it? Her heart ached for him, and she was certain it always would. With that final thought, she drifted off to sleep.