A Proper View

Chapter 1: First Love

Disclaimer: All mentions, references, and characters from Harry Potter are owned by JK Rowling.

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"It doesn't seem real."

Harry's voice seemed to echo into the black sky. It was directed to no one in particular, but Ron and Hermione who lay beside him nodded in response.

They lay on the grass outside the Burrow, faces upturned into the clear, star-studded sky. It had taken weeks, but the thick, cold fog had finally cleared, and the stars could shine again. A breeze blew over the meadow, rippling the grass and hushing the quiet night. They were deserted in the dark, illuminated only by the stars and the tip of Ron's wand, propped against a nearby stone. Despite being deserted, they held no fear. As far as they were concerned, they had seen enough danger to last them a lifetime. Even though it was safe throughout Britain, little would alarm them now.

It was Hermione who spoke first. She placed a hand gently upon Harry's forearm. "Nothing seems real anymore. I still wake up in a fright sometimes. Afraid I'll see the canopy of the tent, and shadows of branches."

"Or hear Snatchers out the window," Ron added, lifting himself up on his elbow.

It was quiet for another moment until Ron spoke again. "What are we supposed to do now, anyway?" he asked looking back up at the sky. It seemed like ages since they've gotten a proper view.

No one answered him. In fact, they'd been wondering the same thing for over a week now. It had taken a few days until the whole Weasley/Granger/Potter family was ready to leave the disheveled Hogwarts grounds. Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, and Fleur had returned to the Burrow at once to arrange the service for Fred. George had stayed, voicing his opinion quietly. He had decided to assist in repairing the castle and tending to the wounded, rather than deal with the weight of his loss.

Hogwarts would be open in September, for anyone who felt safe enough to attend. The last few classes of term had been held in intact classrooms at various times throughout the day. Ginny had finished, as quickly as she could, and had arrived at the Burrow that morning. Hermione was seriously considering attending school in the fall, to complete her seventh year of education with Ginny. It seemed silly considering the year they spent battling dark wizards across the country, but it just didn't seem right not to. She wouldn't be properly qualified for jobs if she didn't take her N.E.W.T.s.

Both Harry and Ron had snorted and rolled their eyes at the suggestion. She knew by now that school didn't mean the same thing that it meant to her. Even if future employers didn't know, she would know, and that would bother her for the rest of her young life. "Do you think they're going to refuse you?" Ron had asked her, incredulously, as she'd voiced her opinion. "I'd like to see the Ministry refuse you. Top of our class. Honestly." She had to admit, his faith in her bolstered her self esteem.

Harry and Ron had both received several offers from various employers. Harry had boatloads of owls each day with witches and wizards voicing their support in his run for Minister of Magic. Ron had nearly fallen out of his chair laughing. On a more realistic note, Harry and Ron had both received letters directly from the Auror Department, inviting them to immediately join their ranks while the remaining death eaters scattered.

In fact, Hermione had received one as well, but kept it to herself. Being an Auror was not her plan for the future, but she felt proud knowing they would consider her so quickly.

Everyone expected Harry to accept at once, and he was already looking for flats in London. Hermione knew that Ron's letter was still hidden in his bedside table. Ron had received another offer, in fact, from his brother. George had asked Ron for his help with Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. It was an indefinite offer, that everyone assumed would last until he was on his feet again. Hermione knew that it was a permanent offer. If Ron wanted, he could have a secure job as long as he needed. It was a tempting offer, to be sure, but Hermione understood Ron's dilemma more than he knew.

Should he give up his dream to do the right thing? Should he sacrifice money for danger and uncertainty? A career side by side with his best friend? She'd seen the light glowing from under his door for nights now as he mulled over both options late into the morning.

It was Harry's voice that pulled Hermione out of her reverie. She snapped back to the present and remembered the prickly grass at the back of her neck. "What are we supposed to do now, anyway?"

"We just live, I guess," Harry had said with a shrug. She could hear his shoulder slide up and back down beside her ear. "For once, we can just...do normal things."

Ron snorted from her other side. "Yeah, like what?"

Harry was quiet for a moment. "I don't know. Ride the train in London and not worry about seeing Mrs. Figg telling me I'm in danger. Rent a near Diagon Alley and get a job. Stay out late and not worry about getting killed."

He spat out the word "killed" with more force than necessary. Hermione looked over at him.

Harry sighed and brushed his long hair off his forehead. "I don't know. I just want to...be...for a year or so." He laughed to himself. "I feel like I'm asking for a lot."

They heard the distant clap of the screen door and Ron craned his neck to see who was joining them. "It's Ginny," he said quietly, turning back to them. "Was afraid it was Mum telling us to come inside."

Ginny reached them in a few moments, her bare feet padding on the grass with a faint crunch. "Hi," she said quietly, sinking down beside Harry. Hermione watched as they shared a smile.

"Dinner's almost ready," she said to all three of them, and they all knew it was a warning in disguise. Soon, they would be called inside, away from the peace, and back into the fire. Hermione was reminded of the wedding last summer, then, with a pang of guilt and sadness, remembered how different of an occasion a funeral was.

"Let's go help your Mum," Harry said to Ginny, standing and pulling her up with him.

Ginny let out a sound of discontent. "But I just got here."

Harry tugged her along and laughed. "I thought you said dinner was ready."

She sighed dramatically and followed Harry back to the Burrow.

Hermione reminded herself to thank Harry later. She took a deep breath and looked back up at the sky.

It was silent between she and Ron until they heard the screen door slam as Harry and Ginny made their way back inside. Hermione stared up at the stars still, merely for something to do, rather than address the rather large elephant between them.

They hadn't spoken of The Kiss in the room of requirement since it had happened. Partially because they had been too busy and emotionally distracted, and partially because both of them had been terrified to bring it up. Terrified the other would say it was a mistake, that they had been too wrapped up in emotions, or that it was irrational for them to sacrifice their friendship.

Hermione realized her heart was pounding. All of the reasons were ridiculous in her mind, except for the last one, which had been plaguing her since the night after the battle.

What would they sacrifice if they took this step?

What if it didn't work out, and they forever created a rift between the three of them? Was it worth it? Was finally gaining what she had always wanted worth sacrificing the best friendship she had ever had, and will probably ever know?

Hermione heard Ron sigh beside her, and she assumed he was thinking the same things. She moved her head to side, to look at him fully. She could see his profile in the shadow of his wandlight. The edge of his long nose, down to his chin, his pursed lips, and the tips of his ginger eyelashes illuminated with the glow of his wand.

Ron seemed to sense her eyes on him, and he turned to meet her gaze. Her heart was beating faster now, the sound rattling her eardrums. This was the first time they'd been truly alone since they had grabbed the Basilisk fangs in the Chamber of Secrets. They'd been ushered to their respective dormitories, bedrooms and jobs for the weeks since the battle. She had barely had a chance to share a silent glance between them, let alone speak about their tender moment.

It all seemed so long ago. So tiny, compared to the massive relief that was the defeat of Voldermort.

Her throat tightened and she felt a sudden pressure in her chest. A sense of loss and despair. Similar to watching Ron and Lavender embrace in the common room. There was no possible way Ron would still want her...

Ron was moving now, rolling onto his side. He had propped himself up on his elbow again, and was looking down at her. He was close. Closer than he'd been since Hogwarts. She swallowed slowly. He lifted his hand and gently placed it on the side of her face, pressing his fingers tenderly to her skin.

Her skin was on fire at once. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand slightly. Anything to keep this moment from ending.

"Hermione," he breathed, and she could hear the smile in his voice.

She didn't answer and kept eyes closed. The pressure of his fingertips on her cheek was driving her mad,

"Are you honestly wondering what I think you're wondering?"

Hermione's eyes snapped open. She met his blue eyes in the dark and felt her heart lurch once more. Had they never been this close before? She shook her head and found her voice. "What am I wondering?"

He removed his hand and chuckled to himself. "The same thing I'm wondering, I'm sure." Ron looked back at her, still smiling. "Whether or not I'm mental to think you'd want to be with me. How in Merlin's sake you could want me over some other bloke like Harry or-"

"Oh, don't even say it," Hermione hissed rolling her eyes.

Ron laughed. He was quiet for a moment before resuming. "Whether or not it would be worth it to screw up our friendship."

At this she had no response. She merely stared back at him, the uncertainty mirrored in his own face. "Well?" she asked, swallowing. "What do you think?"

Ron knit his eyebrows together, an expression she knew meant he was churning something over in his head. He drew a deep breath and then met her eyes. Before she could repeat her question, he lowered his head and pressed his lips delicately, and yet confidently against her own. She lay stunned against the ground, unknowingly clutching a fistful of grass blades.

The tiny popping noises that came as she ripped the grass from its roots were lost in the chatter of crickets and frogs from the nearby pond. Ron's hand on her face was soft, and gentle as he ran it from her forehead to her chin. When at last he pulled away and met her eyes, Hermione stared back at him breathlessly.

"Does that answer your question?" he said, flashing her a smug grin.

Before she could respond with any form of coherent speech, they heard Mrs. Weasley shout from the house. "Ron, Hermione! Dinner's on the table!"

Ron bowed his head in frustration. His fringe brushed her cheek as his forehead dropped against her shoulder. "For Merlin's sake," he said under his breath, voice muffled at the crook of her neck. "We haven't had a moment alone since Hogwarts." He lifted his head again and yelled back at his mother. "Be right there, Mum!"

It was quiet for a moment as they both let their hearts settle back to a normal pace. Ron's hand was still on her face, and Hermione could see him staring at the grass next to her head. They both knew now was not the time to disobey Mrs. Weasley, yet their hearts ached dearly for a mere hour alone.

Biting her lip, Hermione was the first to break the silence. "Do you think she'd mind terribly if we were just a few minutes late?"

Ron smiled. "I like this idea."

"I'm serious," she chided pushing Ron back with a jab of her finger. "I want to talk about this." She felt her bravery dissipate as the words left her mouth.

He leaned close and wagged his eyebrows. "Do we need to talk?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Don't we? Just to settle a few things."

Ron sighed and her heart instantly dropped. Was it always going to be like this? Unspoken feelings never really identified? Friends with benefits? Everyone knew what was going on by now. They'd made enough meaningful and longing glances over the past few weeks...and years. Her stomach iced over and she closed her eyes bracing for the worst. Ill-fated to be "friends" forever.

"Hermione I feel like I've been 'settling' things for weeks now," Ron said, breaking her stream of consciousness. "School, and Fred, and work and everything. With you I have nothing left to settle."

She stared back up at him, eyes wide.

"I want to be with you, Hermione. I want you with me all the time. After a year like the one we just went through, I don't want to waste any more time. Time is finally what we have, and I want to spend it with you." He reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. "I don't want to pretend like I'm not thinking about you all the time, because I am."

She tried to speak but no words came out.

"I want to do like Harry says. Be normal, do things together out in the open. Go to the Leaky Cauldron, meet your parents, buy you dinner, kiss you at your door. Do you get what I'm saying, Hermione?"

She was sucking on her bottom lip, staring back up at Ron with awe. In their strange, wonderful relationship would she be the one to take action and he the one to speak the words? That simply wouldn't do.

Desperate to get a word in she stammered, "Ron, I-"

"I'm in love with you, Hermione."

Suddenly the night was quiet, and the moon and stars had disappeared. She saw Ron, his freckly face shadowed by the wandlight, looking intently into her eyes. She could barely see his features in the dark, but she had memorized every bit of his face by now. The arch of his eyebrows, and the freckle on the end of his nose, the shape of his smile and the dimple on his left cheek. Her eyes pricked at once, and Ron's face was washed out in a blur as the tears altered her vision. They spilled over onto her cheeks and into their entwined fingers.

"Hermione," Ron said, smiling. He brushed a tear away with his thumb. "Why are you crying?"

She shook her head and tried to stop, realizing she had barely said anything since he'd kissed her. "I don't know," she managed, thickly, using her other hand to dry her eyes. "It's just..."

Hermione looked into his eyes, ice blue in the moonlight, and felt her heart lift in her chest. After everything, after all the follies and rows, near death experiences and encounters with the Dark Lord, Ron had finally returned her feelings. They'd finally done something right together. She felt like flying.

"What?" He moved her fringe from her eyes, sweeping his fingers tenderly over her forehead.

"It's just that I love you too, Ron."

Ron was beaming at her, smile wide with excitement.

"I have for...ages," she said, feeling at ease as the words left her lips.

"Me too."

"We took forever," she said through a giggle.

"Seven years," he said, grinning.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "All seven? I highly doubt-"

"Don't bother trying to get me to say how frizzy your hair was or how big your teeth were because I won't, and it didn't bother me anyway."

She giggled, despite herself, and let Ron place a kiss on her cheek.

"DINNER IS ON THE TABLE AND I WILL NOT TELL YOU AGAIN!"

They lay frozen on the grass, echoes of Mrs. Weasley's warning still ringing in the air. Ron released her hands and sat back enough to meet her eyes. He wore a worried expression on his face, as though hesitant to push his mother any further.

"We should go in," she said quietly. Her heart sunk and she was reluctant to lose this moment. Who knew how long it would be before they could steal another.

Ron was getting to his feet above her, brushing dirt and grass off his shirt. He reached down to help her up, pulling gently until she stood beside him.

Hermione's breath hitched in her throat as she stood, nose practically pressed to his chest. She inhaled slowly, breathing in the subtle scent of him. She felt his cheek against her temple, and the gentle pressure of his lips on her skin.

"Soon," he said sliding an arm around her waist.

She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her forehead to his shirt. Suddenly their separation ripped through her and she never wanted to let go. She forced herself to nod slowly, hoping very much that he was right. This relief combined with the defeat of the Dark Lord was almost too much. Her heart was bursting.

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Author's Note: Ok guys. Truth? I've had this written for like 5 years. Just sitting on my various computers. I spent the past two months reading through the entire series again, and what do you know...the spark came back! My plan for this story? A collection of Ron/Hermione related relationship moments. Are they called drabbles? I don't know the phrasing any more. I have some of them written, and some not. No real plan for updating. Just bask in the R/H love, okay? Love you guys!

Footnote: There will be no beta-ing of this work. Apologies for the small mistakes.