So, I shouldn't really be doing this because I'm in the middle of writing my own little novella, but I've hit a road block in that story so maybe writing for fun will re-inspire me. Who knows? I've always wanted to do a R/Hr fanfic (or even a harry potter fanfic, in general), so here's my little spin on it.
Since music has been and will be one of my greatest muses, I'm centering each chapter on a different song and what it means to me. Many of these songs are personal favorites! We'll see if it makes the story flow or not.
Oh, and I love J.K. Rowling and wish I could be her, but alas, I'm not. And that's my disclaimer.
Enough of my blabbing, here...
The Times They Are A-Changin' - Bob Dylan
Come mothers and fathers
Throughout the land
And don't criticize
What you can't understand
Your sons and your daughters
Are beyond your command
Your old road is
Rapidly agin'.
Please get out of the new one
If you can't lend your hand
For the times they are a-changin'.
Number 12 Grimmauld Place was uncharacteristically quiet that afternoon. No rushed quills scraping loudly against pieces of parchment. No messy slurping or chewing coming from the famous red-headed wizard known for his overactive appetite. No words exchanged at all between the four occupants of this hidden apartment.
Just silence.
Upon closer inspection however—which was quite impossible unless permitted entry into Number 12—one could hear the soft, tranquil breathing of the witches and wizards inside.
Hermione Granger was the first to wake, and to a startling sensation. A light breeze from a nearby air vent sent a chill up her hand, which she quickly realized was wet. She instinctively picked her head up off the table and regretted that decisions as she felt the muscles in her strained neck tighten and pierce her with pain.
Her pain was overshadowed by embarrassment, however, upon noticing that the soaked skin of her hand was where the drool leisurely trailed from her chin and decided to collect in a puddle. Her cheeks flushed not because she was unhappy with her less than delicate sleeping habits, but because Ronald Weasley was sitting at the table next to her and could have very well seen her sloppy display.
Luckily, he too felt the urge to nap, quill in hand and head tilted back against the headboard of his chair.
Once the terrifying pain in her neck started to lessen, Hermione turned her head to look at the kitchen clock. It was not even one in the afternoon. "Ron."
He remained as he was.
"Ron, wake up," Hermione continued in her scratchy, morning voice. But Ron still wouldn't budge. "Ronald!" She kicked him heartily in the shin from under the table.
Ron's head whipped forward so fast that he nearly lost his balance on the creaking chair. "Oi! What the bloody hell'd you do that for, Mione?"
"Because you were sleeping, Ron," Hermione replied in her matter-of-factly tone. "Actually, we both were. I'm not sure how it happened but we can't be doing that when we still have so much work to do."
The sleep in Hermione's eyes was something Ron found very endearing but now wasn't the proper time to mention it. "I might have an idea how it happened. You haven't allowed us to go to bed for the past two days because you have an irrational fear about not doing well on the first exams. We're exhausted, Hermione."
Hermione shook her head angrily and refused to look at Ron. "It's not irrational. You know I like to fully prepare myself to get excellent marks, and obviously I care enough about the rest of you to hope you receive the same." She scooted her chair back and folded her arms across her chest with a loud huff. "Plus, dear Ronald, don't forget that receiving lessons here instead of Hogwarts has significantly shorted our curriculum time. We only have weeks instead of months now."
"Yeah, well, that's 'cause Penelope doesn't want to spend so much of her time tutoring us. And I don't blame her."
In the months that followed the Second Wizarding War, in which Lord Voldemort was finally defeated by the young, yet powerful wizard, Harry Potter, the Golden Trio slowly, but surely, began searching for that sense of normalcy they have wanted for so long.
In the time it took to rebuild Hogwarts and help families cope with the permanent losses they endured, Harry, Hermione, and Ron had to continue putting their own lives and futures on hold.
So much death and destruction. It seemed like a dark, bottomless hole one could not come back from. But the ties that bind had gotten them thus far, and they weren't going to give up on each other now. Not when the healing was most needed.
Especially for Ron and the rest of the Weasley family. Harry was glued to Ginny's side, being that necessary crutch she could hold onto when thoughts of Fred weighed her down, physically and emotionally. Hermione, as well, was a huge presence in Ron's life, being a staple in the Burrow not just to comfort him but also Molly and anyone else she could be of service to. Hermione wanted to be there for them as they had watched over and loved her as one of their own for all these years.
Hermione and Ron postponed the talk they wanted to have ever since the kiss. Timing, as usual, was awful and there was no sense in trying to see what they could become just yet when there was still so much to do and so much sadness to overcome.
When the time came, Hermione went in search for her parents with the help of those who were willing to lend a hand. Ron and Harry wanted to go with her but she told them that their place was here for now. She was grateful enough to have Amos Diggory and her dear friend, Hagrid, escort her through Australia. If it hadn't have been for them, her search time would have at least doubled—or worse, she may have never found them.
Once everyone was safe and back at home, it did not mean that Kingsley was through with them. As the new Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt made it his political duty to have Harry, Ron, and Hermione at every press conference and special event related to the demise of Voldemort. He knew they didn't like it and would've rather been anywhere else, but as much as he cared for these three teenagers on a personal level, he had civic expectations to uphold.
And they understood as much.
Eventually, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny moved out of their perspective homes once they felt it was acceptable to do so. They moved in with Harry at his godfather's home, Number 12 Grimmauld Place, to get the peace and quiet they had for so long needed and deserved.
Until Hermione forcefully reminded them that they still had a year of school to finish at Hogwarts. And instead of fighting her on the issue and dealing with Hermione's reproachful glares, they settled on a compromise. On Percy Weasley's behalf, Penelope Clearwater volunteered her services as a Hogwarts tutor to the four students since she was currently training to become a full-time staff member there.
Which was why Hermione was harping on everyone to do there studying in preparation for the first exams that were less than a day away.
"I'm not arguing why, I'm simply presenting the facts. There is a lot of information to learn in this short amount of time so we cannot waste it."
Ron was about to retort, keeping the tradition alive by fighting with Hermione over every little thing, but the pair was interrupted by a groggy Ginny appearing in the kitchen archway. "What's all this about now?" Ginny calmly asked, mid-yawn.
Hermione shook her head. "Oh, don't tell me you two fell asleep as well." The Weasleys could hear the blatant annoyance in her voice. "Honestly, does no one care about N.E.W.T.s anymore?"
Harry heard the last part of the conversation from the other room and was the first to reply as he walked into the kitchen past Ginny. "Well, Hermione, I'll be the first to admit that it is a bit unnecessary for us to go through all this considering Kingsley said he's willing to put us into Auror training without our N.E.W.T.s."
"Yeah, so you should really be thanking us for sticking this out with you." Upon completing his verbal thought, Ron immediately regretted his words and knew he'd soon feel the full force of its wrath.
Hermione tore her gaze from Harry to Ron, like a lion stalking its prey. The sleep in her eyes was gone, leaving only the burning flames that evoked Ron's deepest fears to come to a head. "Thanking you? Is that what you want, Ronald?"
Harry came to Ron's defense since the latter was currently speechless and trapped under Hermione's trance. "Hermione, I'm sure he was just joking. He just wants you to lighten up a bit because we could probably study more efficiently if we all took a break and relaxed."
Hermione studied his words while continuing her penetrating onslaught on Ron. "Fine. I see how it is." The legs of Hermione's chair made a shrill screeching noise as they scooted backwards and she stood up from her position. "You clearly don't want my help, so I will no longer provide it. Play your stupid Wizard's Chess or sleep for all I care. I'll be in my room furthering my own education."
Sensing that Ron or one of others would try to stop her, Hermione wanted to make quick work of her exit because she was not in the mood to listen to anymore of their pathetic excuses. So she Disapparated on the spot instead of making the short trip upstairs to her bedroom.
Ron let his arms sink low at his sides, as if feeling the whole weight of their argument. "Blimey, that girl drives me bonkers. You just can't win with her."
Ginny softly giggled to herself before letting the boys in on her joke. "Well, look at it this way. You did want everything back to normal. I don't think there's anything more normal than Hermione obsessing over academic achievement."
Harry smiled along with her and reached for her hand in a loving gesture. Ron probably would have laughed harder than anyone when poking fun at Hermione's continuous pursuits to be the brightest witch of this century. But he felt a sudden void in the large, open space. Now that things were different between them, it seemed like Ron missed Hermione more when they were apart and felt worse whenever they'd fight.
Their arguments didn't necessarily lessen, of course. They could always find things to complain about to each other. Ron still ate like a grotesque caveman and Hermione never failed to correct Ron on grammar or logic when she felt it prudent to do so.
It was who they were.
But the one thing that did change was Ron's guilt. He still never fully forgave himself for leaving Harry and Hermione that day in the tent, even after hearing Hermione repeatedly say that the issue had been absolved. It was probably the biggest regret he ever had in his entire life. He hated how he felt the moment he Disapparated, the longing to be near Hermione and not knowing whether she was alright. More importantly, he hated the hurt expression on her face when he finally returned. He promised himself that he would never make Hermione feel that way toward him again.
The sudden urge to make amends was overwhelming. He didn't want to look like a pathetic, love struck teen in front of Harry and Ginny, though, so he made up a quick excuse to leave. "So, since we don't have to study anymore, and thank Merlin for that, I think I'll catch up on some sleep. My bed's been calling my name."
Harry gave a knowing glance toward Ginny before turning back to his best friend. "Sure you are, mate. If you really believe that, then so do we."
Damnit. Why did it have to be so obvious how much Ron was in love with that bushy-haired witch. He couldn't even think about her without everyone else knowing about it. "No bloody privacy in this house," Ron muttered through his teeth as he ignored Harry and Ginny's sneers from behind him and made his ascent toward Hermione's room.
The door was locked, of course. He didn't expect Hermione to welcome him with open arms. He rapped on the wooden barrier three times and then paused. No reply. Not even a squeak on the bedspring to tell him she was even in there. Though he knew she was. "Hermione, could you please let me in so we can talk about this."
The stillness was eminent but somehow Ron could feel that deep down she was contemplating opening the door. After all, he wasn't alone in this relationship. She had needs and desires too.
"Listen, I don't like how things ended down there and I want you to know that I'm willing to do all the groveling you want," Ron shoved his hands in his pockets nervously. He didn't know this, but a small, sweet smile crept on Hermione's lips at those words. She just wasn't sure if she was ready to make up just yet.
Hermione finally broke her silence. "Not now, Ronald. I'm going over my Ancient Ruins study packet and I can't have any distractions. We'll talk later."
Ron slumped against the wall and let his body sink further and further until he was sitting flat on the ground. Whenever she called him 'Ronald' he knew she wouldn't budge. She only used it when she wanted to enforce authority on him, and in this case, it meant 'we'll talk when I'm ready to talk.' There were no hints of endearment in her voice.
But Ron wasn't going to give up that easily.
"Okay," he started, picking at the frayed wood on the door, "what if I help you study? I could quiz you on the material in the packet?"
A long, drawn-out beat and then, "But you're not taking Ancient Ruins. Why would you waste your time on that?"
Ron shrugged, even though Hermione couldn't see it. "Because I want to."
He sat, impatiently waiting for her response, until a deafening click sounded from the doorknob directly above him. He shuffled to his feet as fast as he could so Hermione didn't walk out and see him in that slouched state. She opened the door just as he rose to her level. Well, above her level, actually. After all, he was much taller than she.
Hermione looked up at Ron bashfully. "You'd do that for me?"
Ron could only smirk, contorting one side of his mouth as he stared at the lovely creature in front of him. "How do you not know by now that I would do anything for you? Including school work."
"I do know," she said with a returning smile. "But a girl likes to hear it every once in a while."
Hermione took a deliberate step and leaned her body forward to kiss Ron on the cheek. It was soft, warm, and so close to his own lips that he fought every urge that willed him to grab her fiercely and kiss her back with a bruising force. You see, she wasn't that type of girl. Affection with her was a slow, patient process and he was okay with that. Actually, he was more than okay with that.
After putting distance between their bodies, Hermione gently placed her small hand in Ron's and led him past the entrance to her room. They closed the door behind them so as not to be disturbed from their studying. Which they'd get to…eventually.
