Hermione Granger had never thought about dying. After seven years of constantly getting into trouble (oh, the horror!) and facing villains she was too young to be facing, it seemed as if death simply did not touch her, nor any member of the trio. Yet the battle reigning in Hogwarts said otherwise.
She shouldn't have been worried…okay, that was a lie, but it was one she needed to cling on to in order to steady herself. They'd collected most of the horcruxes, and Ron-Ron was able to open the Chamber of Secrets. It was an impressive feat that still left Hermione in awe. And now they had gotten back to Harry. Everything was going to be alright. They just needed to accomplish another list of impossible tasks. Easy as pie.
Somehow, Hermione had settled into a rhythm. Let her heart pound as calmly as it could, let her legs get used to running as fast as possible, summon all her strength to keep the basilisk fangs in her arms from dropping. So many near death experiences, she was practically used to the experience.
"Hang on a moment! We've forgotten someone!"
Of course. Of course Ron would be the one to shatter her balance. But she couldn't just ignore him now.
"Who?" Hermione forced herself to come to a stop. Ron looked particularly frantic. They all were, but this was something else. She still couldn't silence the impatience in her throat.
"The house elves." That was a shock to her system. The last thing she expected him to say. "They'll all be down in the kitchen, won't they?"
"You mean we ought to get them fighting?" Harry asked.
Hermione couldn't quench the feeling of dread in her stomach. Yes, they needed all the help they could get. Yes, the future of the Wizarding World was at stake here. But they were just house elves. Her attempts to make S.P.E.W. popular all those years ago failed miserably, but that certainly hadn't erased the passion inside her. Yet she knew the house elves would be more than willing to fight. Defeating Voldemort was more important… In the span a few seconds, Hermione came to the resigned conclusion that they were going to have to go along with Ron's plan, even if it went against her instincts.
"No," Ron said. Wait, what? "I mean we should tell them to get out. We don't want any more Dobbies, do we?" He remembered Dobby? "We can't order them to die for us-"
A million thoughts exploded in Hermione's head all at once. Most of them repeated that same phrase: We can't order them to die for us. Because that was it. That was how she'd unconsciously justified creating S.P.E.W. Because it didn't matter how much the house elves liked the work. It was the people who were telling them to do the work. The people who would take advantage and force the elves to do whatever they commanded, even if the elves didn't want to.
The same people who'd hurt everyone she loved. The people who'd told her she couldn't succeed because of her blood. The people who'd fallen for Voldemort's lies. The people who'd let her be tortured. The people who killed. There was no telling who they would use to accomplish their goals. The house elves would be easiest to use.
Like Dobby. Oh, Dobby. The Malfoys had used him against Harry and forced him to punish himself when he went against their wishes. It was disgusting, it was cruel, and Hermione was more relieved than she let on when he was finally freed. And in the end, he'd died for them. Because he wanted to. Because he believed in their cause.
But the other house elves? They just wanted to work. They didn't want to get caught up in this war their masters had created. They didn't deserve to die.
That was it. That was why she'd founded S.P.E.W. And Ron had made fun of her for it. She thought he didn't understand. But he did understand. Not just that, he was prioritizing it.
Hermione had no idea when she fell in love with him. But there were many times when she questioned it. When he yelled at her during the Yule Ball, when he dated Lavender, when he abandoned her and Harry during the horcrux hunt. And all the times he'd blown up at her over something little. All the times he'd made her cry. She'd wonder if all those times outweighed the times he'd made her smile. She wondered if he'd ever change.
But he did. He did. She was too caught up in a whirlwind of fire when Ron came back for them in the woods, not to mention Harry refused to tell her the full story. But even then, she saw something different in his eyes. They were stronger. Less fragile. She didn't feel like he would break any second. She'd ignored it. There was too much at stake to even consider what had happened with him.
But now she knew: he'd grown up.
Hermione could always rely on him to make her happy, but now she knew she could rely on him to stay with her. To handle her and love her unconditionally. Now she knew that these butterflies in her stomach were not just temporary, but enough to power them for a beautiful lifetime.
Bottled up feelings throbbed inside her heart. It was almost suffocating. In a millisecond, Hermione had reached a conclusion. Not about an assignment, but about her life. About the boy she loved. About the one she daydreamed about and the one she talked to every night. The one who calmed her down. The one who had finally accepted the parts of her that he had once found insufferable.
Hermione Granger had never thought about dying. But now it loomed over her, over all of them. There was a very real chance they would not live to see the morning. And in that moment, she knew that if she did not kiss Ron Weasley right now, she would probably never get to.
So she did.
All the strength she had summoned to hold up the basilisk fangs immediately gave out and they crashed to the floor. She didn't care. Her eyes were only on him. His eyes, meanwhile, were wide in confusion that melted into joy as Hermione dived into his arms and pressed a firm kiss to his lips.
She had waited so long for this and she was embracing every moment. She closed her eyes and held onto him as seven years of bantering and unresolved tension came to a climax. For the first time in months, the weight of the world was no longer on her shoulders. She was safe.
"Is this the moment?" Was that Harry? Hermione didn't care. She never wanted to let Ron go and she only held on tighter.
"Oi! There's a war going on here!"
Oh right. Disappointment sagged over her shoulders as she broke away from Ron. She finally opened her eyes and saw his had done the same. Getting lost in them, she had to resist the urge to kiss him again.
"I know, mate," Ron said breathlessly. His ears were slightly pink and he looked as if he'd run a marathon. Hermione had to admit she felt slightly proud that she was able to make him feel that way. "So it's now or never, isn't it?"
Excuse me? Hermione thought. Now or never? She was the one who'd finally kissed him! Still, she couldn't deny it was for that same reason. Ron had been thinking the same thing. But all his brothers and being friends with the Chosen One had made him think Hermione could never love him. She had to make the move, no matter how much it frightened her. At least if she died tonight, she'd die knowing that Ron knew about her feelings and felt the same way.
Now or never indeed.