One-Shot: In the Garden of Eden
Hermione Granger was at the window of the Gryffindor Common Room, staring down at the grounds. In the distance, she could see Ron strolling around, clearly lost in thought, his head downcast. No doubt he was thinking of his brother, Fred.
"He looks so broken…" she said softly.
"I know," Harry concurred from where he was leaning against a bedpost. "I haven't seen him look like that since we destroyed the locket…" He stopped short, realizing what he had just said. Hermione looked back at him.
"What do you mean?" she said timidly, and something about the look in Harry's eyes made her not want to know the answer, yet know it at the same time.
"Nothing," Harry said quickly. He looked away.
"Harry, what happened when you and Ron destroyed the locket?" Hermione pressed.
"Nothing; it's between me and him, so drop it, alright?" Harry said, starting to get annoyed.
"HARRY JAMES POTTER!" Hermione's snap made him stare at her in shock. She had never barked at him like that before. Hermione was on her feet now; trembling, tears in her eyes, and her voice cracked as she spoke next: "If you love me as a sister, as a friend, you will tell me what happened right now!"
Harry sighed. He did not want to betray Ron, but he also did not want to lose Hermione's friendship. He took her by the hands and sat them both down on the nearest bed.
"The night Ron returned," Harry began. "He saved me from the frozen pond where I retrieved the sword of Gryffindor. I ordered him to destroy the locket; I had a feeling he was supposed to do it. I opened the Horcrux with Parsletongue and it…exploded with black darkness all around. Then we heard Voldemort's voice, speaking to Ron. He said: 'I have seen your heart and it is mine. I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley and I have seen your fears. All that you desire is possible, but all that you dread is also possible. Least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter. Least loved now, by the girl who prefers your friend. Second-best, always, eternally overshadowed….'"
"Oh, god!" Hermione croaked, a hand over her mouth as she began to sob.
"There's more. It won't be easy for you to hear it, but you must. Two…apparitions of you and me came out of the locket. We began berating Ron."
"What did we say?" Hermione whispered.
Harry sighed. "I said, 'We were better without you; happier without you.' Then you said, 'Who would look at you, compared to Harry Potter? What are you compared with the Chosen One? What are you, compared with the Boy Who Lived?' Then I said, 'Your mother confessed she would have preferred me as a son.' Then you said, 'What woman would take you? You are nothing, nothing, nothing compared to him.' Then, the ghosts of you and I were naked and we….were….." Harry steeled himself to describe what he practically equated with sacrilege. "We were kissing. You had flowers in your hair, and…."
"No!" Hermione croaked.
"Yes. And the look on Ron's face…that just destroyed him. Then, he got mad. Seeing that drove him to destroy the locket."
There was a long silence, punctuated only by Hermione's soft weeping. "Voldemort….tortured him. Like Bellatrix did to me, only it…it was in his mind!" As she cried, one thought flashed through her mind. He loves me! Ronald Weasley is in love with me! But he doesn't think I love him back! Oh, but I do! Oh, how I do…. She finally steeled herself. She had to confess her love, and drive Ron's fears away all at the same time. And suddenly, she knew just how to do it.
The next morning, Ron was walking through a small patch in the forest just beyond the Hogwarts grounds. Harry had told him to meet in a certain glade there.
When Ron finally reached the clearing his best mate had described, he saw no one. He glanced all about. When he turned back around, his heart almost stopped.
Hermione Granger stood before him. Naked. She had flowers in her hair, and she looked like a goddess. Ron felt his face burn red even as he gaped. He desperately wanted to look away, out of respect for Hermione's body. Yet, at the same time, he wanted to burn the image in his mind forever. With a small smile, Hermione began to walk toward him.
"I was not better without you or happier without you. Who could look at him, compared to Ronald Weasley? What is he, compared with the King of Wizard's Chess? What is he, compared with the Best Quidditch Keeper?" As she continued her approach, she waved her wand, and all of Ron's clothes suddenly vanished; he was now as naked as she. She continued speaking:
"What woman would take him? He is nothing, nothing, nothing compared to you."
Ron was now trembling. What he had at first thought to be a dream was devolving back into his worst nightmare. PTSD and reminders of the locket's torture overtook him and he began to cry and shake violently.
Hermione, meanwhile, stopped just in front of Ron. "Ronald," she said sweetly. "Open your eyes. You are not dreaming."
Ron gradually did her bidding. Hermione took his chin in her hand and stared deep into his eyes. "Listen to me: Harry is nothing, nothing, nothing compared to you."
Ron's mind suddenly clicked back into place. Wait a minute…the words she had been saying were not the ones he remembered….Harry is nothing compared to me?... Really?
Hermione smiled at him sweetly, then with a tiny laugh, suddenly stood on tiptoes, reached up and kissed Ron on the mouth. Her one arm snaked around his neck, and she closed her eyes in pleasure. Ron stiffened in surprise at first, and then realized that this was real. With the animalistic monster inside of him roaring in triumph, his arms encircled Hermione's waist and he pulled her close, kissing her feverishly back. Hermione kissed Ron, open-mouthed now, desperately. The couple fell backwards into the soft grass. Between their nakedness, the bare clearing, the flowers in her hair, Hermione vaguely was reminded of the old Bible story she had heard as a little girl – the one about Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.
And Hermione knew just how to complete that very erotic fantasy and prove to Ron that she was in love with him; that she loved him in return.
She squirmed out of Ron's embrace and scooted away; Ron moaned in disappointment and started to crawl after her. Hermione covered herself with giant leaves and scraps of pine needles, making herself a bed of foliage on the forest floor.
Ron watched, elated and transfixed. Hermione now grinned at him seductively and sexily.
"Come here, Ronald," she beckoned. "You already know there's nothing under these leaves but me."
Ron gleefully leapt under the foliage beside her, careful not to destroy the bed she had made. "Oh, Hermione, I love you!"
"I love you," Hermione returned desperately, and they kissed gently. "And I love Harry!"
Ron blinked. Well, that was certainly a mood-killer. "What?"
"Well, how else would I have known how to say the exact opposite of all those lies Voldemort told you? Harry told me what happened in great and precise detail; I even made him repeat it several times so I could get it right! I even have flowers in my hair like he said I did then!"
"Harry told you about destroying the locket?"
"Don't be mad at him; he let it slip by accident!"
Ron then remembered what Hermione had done for him – how she had exposed herself to him and kissed him and now was allowing him to make love to her.
And that was just what he did – he made slow, sweet love to her on the forest floor.