Author's Note: This one-shot was written for one of my best friends, loveHP47 here on , Lexi. Though I'm more of a Harry/Hermione and Draco/Hermione fan, I can acknowledge and appreciate the relationship between Ron and Hermione for all its lovely qualities. Enjoy! And please read and review.
Inspired by the beautiful "Meteor Shower" by Owl City.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series or the song "Meteor Shower." Both respectively belong to J.K. Rowling and Owl City.
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"I can finally see, that you're right there beside me,"
"Here?" Her voice broke the silence in barely a whisper, timid and afraid of spoiling the sweet serenity of the humid summer night.
He cursed as one of his long, gangly legs caught on an unnoticed rock among the tall grass, causing him to stumble, and looked up at her apologetically for his language when he noticed her raised eyebrow under the light of the evening sky.
"No, too rocky in this area," His own voice responded hoarsely, like it hadn't been used in a long while. His leg lifted in front of him for emphasis. She nodded and adjusted the old, faded blanket from the linen closet of the Weasley guest bedroom in her arms.
Moving the blanket into the crook of her right elbow, she allowed her left arm to fall to her side. The long slim fingers of her hand brushed against his own coyly, until he closed his grasp on her fingers, and gently pulled her across the field, closer and closer to the edge of the woods, which looked miles away no matter how many steps they took towards it.
A warm August breeze blew his unruly red locks away from his forehead, and he glanced behind to see if she had noticed and would scold him to get a haircut in the near future. But her eyes were shut loosely, relishing in the feeling of being under the stars with him. A soft and clever smile graced her lips, which he had the strong urge to cover with his own, as the back of her bare calves were tickled by grass and her hand was squeezed.
"For I have been made new, please don't let me go,"
Finally, he slowed and eventually came to a stop, and reluctantly, she pulled her hand away as to lay the rose-embossed comforter over a patch of land. He dropped the picnic basket she had packed earlier, and received a look as it made an unnecessarily loud 'thud.' He matched her expression until she averted her gaze with flushed cheeks and adjusted the corners of the blanket nearest to him.
His feet then carried him to her, like they had a mind of their own. Wordlessly, he pushed a lock of her hair that had fallen from her loose twist behind her ear, and allowed for her to trace a line of freckles on his neck above the collar of his shirt, causing him to shiver despite the fact that it was eighty-five degrees outside. It was then his turn to take his eyes off of her.
He dropped to his knees on top of the blanket, and then offered her a hand to help her down next to him. She accepted and adjusted the skirt of her pale blue cotton dress with the other until she found a comfortable position next to him. Then again; she wasn't sure if there was such a thing as an uncomfortable one. They then adjusted themselves on their sides, facing each other, and she giggled when his feet went a good six inches off of the comforter.
Then, her laughter melted away, and the only noise that met the air was their smooth and rhythmic breathing. He looked into her brown eyes, which seemed wider than usual, and she fidgeted with a string on one of the buttons of his shirt, focusing on his chest rather than his face. He lifted her chin to make her look him in the face, and her fair skin burned pink.
He found it amusing that they had been together for years, and could still give each other butterflies with just the simplest touch on the cheek or neck or look in the eyes. Her especially. While he had never been an expert in romance, he seemed to be proficient in the subject when it came to wooing her.
Slowly, she reached out for the hand that she had previously relinquished and rolled closer to him, so that their chests pressed together. He wasn't sure what became louder at that point; her breathing or his heartbeat, but blood pounded through his ears, and he couldn't hear anything, as her face inched closer and closer to his until their noses brushed. Then, almost teasingly, the lips he had coveted like she had his hand, ghosted over his own so softly, he wasn't sure there had even been contact between them.
Her eyelashes fluttered shut and kissed his cheeks, and he rested his other hand behind her neck, and played with the hair at the nape of her neck.
"I desperately need you,"
They pulled away moments later, though her hand lingered on his cheek, like his eyes on her face. The moon reflected off the few gold highlights in her now-manageable curls and illuminated her skin with a pale silvery blue shade, similar to that of a Patronus.
Shifting her head into a more comfortable position, her lips parted and she smiled with her large white teeth, which he returned without even realizing. She chuckled softly, and went on to fiddle with his collar once more.
"What?" He questioned softly and held her wrist in front of him.
"It's just…" She hesitated and looked at the sky before returning her gaze to him, "We can actually lay in the middle of nowhere, and not have to worry about being attacked…" She breathily laughed again in realization, and he did too over the irony that only a little while ago they laid outside and camped God-knows-where out of necessity, and know did it for pleasure.
"Well, we could do more than just lay in the middle of nowhere…" He trailed off as she slapped him playfully in the arm, and snuggled her head in the crook of his neck. He sighed jokingly. "I'll take that as a 'no' then?" He felt her nod into his shoulder. "Bloody hell."
"I am not my own, for I have been made new,"
She snickered and a comfortable silence fell over them as turned them onto their backs and he stared up at the sky.
A white, shining blur flew through the sky and disappeared as quickly as it had appeared only a second before.
"A meteor," She breathed dreamily, waking him from his content thoughts.
"You mean a shooting star? You should make a wish on it." He nudged her with his shoulder, and she bit her lip smiling.
"I don't need it," she whispered and their lips met once more, creating more magic than any shooting star or spell possibly could.
"Please don't let me go, I desperately need you."
THE END.
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Author's Note: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story. Please review/favorite/love, or I shall Voldemort-hug you.