One-Shot: Just Say the Words

Ron Weasley popped up in front of Shell Cottage, staggering to maintain his balance and the weight of the girl in his arms. He could not believe he and his friends had made it out of that hell alive. But now, the woman of his dreams was lying limp against him; her precious blood was dripping on his clothes and body.

"HELP!" Ron screamed. "Somebody! Anybody!" His voice echoed through the night. "Help," he now whimpered softly, about to cry. Just then, another voice answered his call.

"RON!" Ron looked up to see his older brother, Bill, running through the darkness towards him, his lit wand in his hand. "What's happened? – Oh my god, Hermione!"

Ron was crying hysterically now, talking almost incoherently. "Save her, fix her, Bill! Please!"

Bill motioned for his baby brother to follow, and two red-haired men sprinted up the beach toward house lights in the distance. Bill bounded up the front steps and banged open the door, calling for his wife.

"Fleur! Get the medical kit prepared! We've got an emergency here! Ron, take Hermione up to the room you stayed in over Christmas."

Ron practically tripped over himself as he took the stairs two, even three, at a time. He was in the guest bedroom in a flash, gingerly setting Hermione down on the bed. In another moment, Fleur had joined him.

"Mon Dieu!" she gasped, a hand over her mouth. Next second, she was shoving Ron towards the door. "Ronald, out! I must streep her, and eet eez not feet for boys to see!"

Ron resisted. "Fleur, I can't leave her! I won't leave her! I need her, don't you understand?!" But Fleur had already muscled him out into the hall and slammed the door in his face.

Minutes passed like hours. Ron sat resolutely by the door, his eyes fixed on the handle, ready to barge in there the moment he saw it turn. In the interim, Harry appeared and gave a report: Dobby was dead; he was going to bury him. Call to him later if Ron needed someone to keep watch over Hermione, etc., etc. Ron barely registered any of this, and acknowledged only with a wave of his hand.

A little while later, the door handle turned. Fleur barely had time to open the door a crack when Ron had burst inside. Hermione was now wrapped in bandages in several places and some of the outlying cuts seemed to have had Dittany and other salves applied to them. Ron turned back to Fleur. "Will she be all right?"

Fleur bit her lip. "I don't know, Ronald. I have done all I can. What happens next eez up to Hermione"

That was the worst answer Ron could have ever heard. Fleur left. Ron grabbed a chair and placed it by Hermione's bedside. He gripped her delicate, small hand and was disturbed by how cool it felt.

"Hermione?" he called. "Hermione?" He pressed his forehead to her hand and wept. "Oh, God, please," he wheezed. Hermione did not move. Then, Ron gradually became angry. "Where are you, God?!" he roared. "If you're merciful, save this wonderful girl's life! She doesn't deserve this suffering!"


Many more hours passed like this. Ron kept watch over Hermione, day and night. It was as if he was in a vigil. Many times, Harry or Bill or Dean Thomas would come up and offer to relieve him of duty, and every time Ron would wave them off. He refused to leave her side – not for meals, not even to go to the bathroom. He conjured a washbasin to relieve himself in (constantly disappearing the excrement with his wand), and Harry dutifully brought up meals three times a day. It was the only way the Chosen One felt he could help. Even then, though, Ron barely ate any of the food he was given – an uncharacteristic move indeed. The boy did not even sleep, much to everyone else's concern. When Bill and Fleur pressed Ron about it one evening, he only gave them a sad look and said: "If I could take her pain away, I would. Since that isn't possible, I may as well deprive myself of all nourishment to feel what she must be feeling." Bill and Fleur realized in that moment that they were dealing with a boy hopelessly lost in love.


On Day 6 at Shell Cottage, Hermione had still not responded. Only her faint pulse indicated that she was alive. People were beginning to wonder that, even if she did wake up, there was a strong chance that she would be mentally affected, much as the Longbottoms had been. That night, Bill and Fleur came into the guest room. Ron was still in the chair, having barely moved from it in almost 144 hours. His eyes were glued to the beautiful girl before him.

"Ron…?" Bill asked timidly.

"What?" the response came out almost as a snarl.

"F-Fleur and I have been talking. We don't know if Hermione won't be somehow permanently affected when she wakes up – if she wakes up – so, we…. we thought that maybe we should…. put her out of her misery."

Ron jumped out of his chair at this, overturning it, and leapt over Hermione to cover her body with his own. "NO! She is not some dog that needs to be euthanized! I- I LOVE HER! I need her here – if she wasn't, I'd go mad!"

"I THINK YOU ALREADY ARE!" Bill roared in frustration. He ignored Fleur's chastising call of his name. "Not eating, not sleeping, barely moving or performing basic bodily functions! Ron, Hermione could be like this for months, years even! Are you really just going to sit here for the rest of your life, willing her to wake up, just because you're selfish? If you really love her, then at a certain point you have to face reality and let her go! Think about what she would want!"

Ron looked thoroughly stunned at this tirade, especially angered at Bill calling him selfish. How was anything that he had been doing for the last six days selfish? He said nothing, though, and Bill and Fleur left him to his thoughts.

Ron stared at Hermione sadly. He had been such a fool these last several months. He had postponed admitting his feelings for the beautiful creature that now lay before him. And now, he may have already run out of time and chances to tell her how he felt. He began to weep, speaking to her through his tears even though he knew she probably couldn't hear him.

"Hermione…. stay with me, please. I'll be right here…. I'll be right here." She did not stir.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione. I promised myself I would never leave you, but I did. I promised myself that I would protect you always, but I didn't. And look where that got me! I wish I had another chance to take care of you, to…. be with you. If you would just come back to me, I will serve you for the rest of my life. I'll take care of you and protect you and value you."

Ron stared at Hermione for so long. "I'll believe in you all my life…. Every day. Hermione….. I love you!" The last came out as almost a whisper, as Ron nearly choked on his own tears that were now streaming down his face.

"Don't leave me," he begged before leaning over and placing a tender kiss upon Hermione's lips. When she still did not respond, he stood at last and moved towards the door, making the decision to allow Bill to let her die in mercy.

"Ronnn…"

For a moment, he was convinced he had just imagined it. But, when he looked back, he saw Hermione weakly reaching out to him. Ron let a choked sob escape before he rushed to her and swept her up into his arms, holding her just as he had when they had arrived at Shell Cottage.

"Owww," Hermione winced in pain slightly. Ron quickly set her back down onto the bed. His happiness was so great, however – his smile so wide – that he almost immediately forgot that she was still fragile. Euphoria overtook him and he almost dove on top of her, kissing her on the mouth passionately.

Hermione let out of squeal of surprise, but before she could react, Ron's mouth had sprung back away from hers. He was gazing at her lovingly with a stupid grin on his face. Hermione blinked once, twice in astonishment.

"Ronald Weasley, did you just kiss me?" But Ron appeared not to have heard her. All at once, he was kissing her again – on her lips, her cheeks, her neck, her face, everywhere. Hermione's amazement soon melted into happiness as she relaxed and realized that this was not a dream. Ronald Weasley was actually kissing her!

"O-Ok- (giggles)- Ron- (gasps) – Ron, ok!" she laughed. Ron finally stopped his worship of her with his lips and seemed to finally realize where he was.

"Bloody hell!" and he sprang off the bed. "Hermione! I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you? And I…. I didn't mean to-"

Hermione beamed at him. "Don't say another word," she told him gently. "I understand." Now that he was standing before her, she could get a proper look at him.

"Ron! You look awful!"

Ron looked down at himself and grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, well, I haven't slept in six days; barely eaten. Hell, I used a washbasin just to take a piss! I haven't left your side in almost a week."

Hermione blinked, stunned. "I've been out for almost a week?"

"Yeah."

"And…. you stayed with me all that time?"

"Well…. yeah," Ron admitted, his face almost as red as his hair. Hermione gave a small smile.

"Come here," she said. Ron carefully approached the bed. As soon as he was near enough, Hermione grabbed his face and brought his lips crashing down onto hers. Her tongue hijacked his mouth with almost no resistance and she heard Ron moan in ecstasy. At long last, she drew away.

"I love you, Ron," she admitted, her face permanently flushed. "I have for a long time."

"I love you too," Ron returned. The tears filling his eyes now began to fall on her upturned face, and he kissed her soundly again. "You're alive," he croaked when they broke apart, caressing Hermione's face with gentle strokes as if to assure himself that she was really there. With him. And alive.

Alive….

"Bloody hell!" he cried, realization dawning on him.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded even as she smiled. "Don't swear."

Ron laughed and kissed her once more. "Only around you, my love. Only around you." Still grinning, he ran from the room. "Harry? HARRY!"

He almost collided with his best mate on the stairwell as the Boy Who Lived came running up in the other direction.

"Harry! She's alive! SHE'S ALIVE!"

Harry leapt about a foot in the air as he gave a roar of triumph, which quickly turned into a cry of pain as he hit his head on the low ceiling.

"Ow! My head!"

"Never mind your head! Go find Bill and Fleur and the others! Tell them the good news! I'll stay with Hermione."

"Sure," Harry grinned before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Ron punched him on the arm.

"Oh, piss off, you sod!"

Ron ran back up to Hermione's room. He leapt into bed beside her and gave her a chaste kiss. Hermione stared up at him adoringly.

"Harry's gone to tell the others," Ron grinned. A thought suddenly struck him. "Hermione, listen. How would you like…." He stopped, not sure how to ask it.

"How would I like what?" Hermione asked curiously.

"How would you like living with me? After this is all over? Cause, being here with you – it feels good like this. So, I reckon that's how we should be."

Hermione blinked. Did he just ask me to be his girlfriend? And move in with him?

Ron was staring at her expectantly with an irresistible grin on his face. "So would you like to?"

Hermione grinned back. "Yes, I would love to!"

Ron practically cackled with glee. "OK, it's set! No more to say." He leapt off the bed and let out a whoop, almost falling back into his bedside chair. "SCREW VOLDEMORT!" Hermione tried to shush him, even as she laughed at his antics.

"Let them hear!" Ron chortled. "You're the one good thing that I've found in this world!"

Hermione's eyes filled with tears at this statement; using all her strength, she got off the bed and threw her arms around him in a hug. Ron laughed as he hugged her back. He glanced over her shoulder to see that the sky had grayed. Hermione followed his gaze.

"The sun's coming up," she said happily and ran clumsily to the window; her injuries had not yet fully healed.

"Right now, love, you are the sun! My sun, the moon and the stars!" Ron told her with a smile. Hermione gave him a million-watt smile in return.

Ron couldn't take it anymore. "C'mere," he laughed, and a giggling Hermione leapt into his arms. Ron cradled her there. Laughing, the two kissed chastely as Ron grandly carried Hermione, bridal-style, back to her bed, which they now both knelt on. In that moment, Hermione kissed Ron with unexpected passion, a gesture Ron was only happy to reciprocate. His hands roamed across her back before resting on her hip. At long last, they broke apart. Hermione smiled shyly at him before, still giggling, the couple crawled into bed beside each other. Both could only think one thought: I'll sleep in your embrace at last.


Harry watched Ron and Hermione sleep through a crack in the door; the moonlight casting its glow over them. The pair had not moved from there in more than twelve hours, instead preferring to sleep the day away in each other's arms.

Harry knew they were in love; any fool could see it. He had even overheard them discussing their plans to begin a life together early that morning. The war was heating up and the fate of the wizarding world would be decided in a matter of weeks, if not days. Harry knew that many would die… and he did not want his best friends among them.

In that moment, Harry made a decision.

Stalking downstairs, he unsheathed a quill and found a scrap of parchment. He began to write emotionally, yet methodically:

My Dearest Ron and Hermione,

First off, let me offer my congratulations to you both. You finally realized you belong with each other; it took you long enough!

This war is going to end badly, and many people will be claimed by it. I do not wish to see either of you among the dead – not when you both have whole lives ahead of you with so much to live for. That is why I have decided to proceed on to Gringotts - and the rest of this mission - alone. I have to stop Voldemort. I – and I alone - am the only one who can do it. Therefore, I have to do this by myself from here on out.

I have, of course, appreciated your help thus far. Merlin knows I would not have made it through this much without either of you. But, I think it best if we part ways here.

Now, for what may possibly be my last wishes: don't follow me. I suspect the end will come at a place we all hold dear – don't go there! As soon as Hermione is well enough, I want you both to run. Get as far away as you can. You have my permission to take Grimmauld Place. Hell, take #4, Privet Drive; the Dursleys won't mind. Either one should be safe enough for now.

Ron and Hermione, I want you to know how happy you have made me. Everyone hopes for at least one true friend in his or her lifetime. I was blessed with two. You both have my heart – for all eternity. You have made me feel loved and valued and, indeed, human for the last seven years. You took me as I was – not Harry Potter, just…. Harry. For that, I will always be grateful.

I have one more wish for you both. However this turns out, live your lives to the fullest. Be happy, for you deserve it all. You both deserve the world. Hermione, give that redheaded tosser lots of children. Ron will do a good bit of the work, trust me. It's the legendary Weasley fertility, after all! And when you have kids, tell them about me. Tell them all about their Uncle Harry. If I am going to die for any future nieces or nephews of mine, I want them to have two loving parents who can tell them stories all about our adventures together. I want them to live in a world that is free from oppression - a world that will not look down on their half-blood status, nor that will not look down upon the Muggle origins of their mother or the forsaking of blood purity on the part of their father.

And so, my most trusted and beloved friends, I say farewell. We had a good journey of it, but I am yet gripped by a strange foreboding that luck and time have finally run out for me.

Thank you. Take care of each other. I will never forget you. I love you both more than tongue can tell.

All of my love always,

Harry

Harry finished what he wrote and checked it over once. He folded it into an envelope and addressed it to his friends. Sneaking back upstairs, he laid the note on the bedside table. Then, he slipped over to the pile of Hermione's clothes that had lain there for an entire week, removed by Fleur when she had first begun healing the girl. Carefully searching, he finally felt and plucked off a strand of hair. He produced a glass vial from his pocket and placed the hair inside, topping it. He now checked himself over one last time. Unsheathing his wand, he held it to the dim light, turning it over in his hand. "It's Voldemort or me this time," he said grimly. At last, Harry moved back to the door. Allowing himself one last look at the two people he loved more than anyone in the world, he blew them a kiss, slipped out the door and was gone.


Sunlight streamed into the guest bedroom early the next morning. Hermione hummed lightly as she was pulled out of sleep. She raised her head off of Ron's chest to find him looking at her with bleary eyes and a sleepy smile.

"Good morning," she purred happily.

"Morning, love," he murmured before planting a warm kiss on her lips. Hermione relished it with a small moan of satisfaction.

The couple glanced around the room. Everything was as it had been the previous morning when they had fallen asleep. Ron yawned.

"Bloody hell, I'm sore." He stretched, and his hand bumped a piece of parchment. "What's that?"

Hermione retrieved Harry's note. "It's in Harry's handwriting!" With trembling hands, she opened the envelope and began to read the letter. With every line her eyes swept over, she began to shake more and more violently. She barely reached the end before a heart-wrenching scream of anguish was ripped from her lungs.

"He's gone! He's headed for Gringotts alone!"

Ron swore angrily and punched the wall.

"That git! We didn't even have a plan yet!"

Hermione sprang out of bed. "We have to go after him!" She began to pace around the room, forming a plan in her head. "We'll disguise ourselves with a Facial Alteration charm, maybe Polyjuice Potion if we're lucky, and sneak into Diagon Alley…."

Meanwhile, Ron was now reading the letter. He, too, jumped out of bed after finishing and grabbed Hermione by the shoulders, giving her a little shake.

"Love, listen to me! He told us not to follow him! And he's probably miles ahead of us by now!"

"I DON'T CARE!" Hermione screeched, as she finally came undone. Tears splashed down her front. "I don't care what Harry said! He's gone to Gringotts alone! Ron, he's going to get himself killed! He's gonna get himself killed! He's gonna…." She began to weep hysterically, melting into Ron's arms. All Ron could do was console her. And pray. Harry, wherever you are, I hope you know what you're doing.


The rest of that day passed agonizingly slow for both Ron and Hermione. Bill kept them informed of updates through the wireless. From there, they learned that Harry had successfully disguised himself as Bellatrix Lestrange, broken into Gringotts and retrieved one of the last Horcruxes from her vault. Ron made some crack about wanting nothing more than to see Harry in a dress, but the joke fell flat on Hermione's ears. She was too frantic with worry.

That night, the lovers prepared for bed, Hermione morosely. Ron pulled her into an embrace, where she rested her head on his chest.

"Harry's fine, love. He's alive… so far. Frankly, I'm not surprised he made it in and out of Gringotts. Our best mate is one tough son-of-a-bitch. We'll see him again, I promise."

Hermione stared up into his eyes. "You think so?"

Ron nodded. "I know so." He kissed her once, gently, before the gesture increased in passion. Before either knew what they were doing, they were stripping each other of their clothes, falling back onto the bed….

Minutes later, Ron lay on top of Hermione, kissing her as he entered her place of intimacy and made sweet love to her. Hermione returned the affection whole-heartedly. The pair kissed passionately, beads of sweat dripping off their intertwined bodies…..


Later that night, the couple lay entangled together naked amongst the bed sheets. Ron was awake, watching Hermione sleep. She looked so beautiful asleep, especially naked.

Just then, Hermione began to twist about and moan. She was crying out softly, and Ron sensed that she was having nightmares about her torture. He tried shaking her, but she beat him off, probably thinking that it was one of the attackers in her dream. After a few minutes of this, her body calmed and she became still.

Ron became still and very afraid. Had she moved on to more pleasant dreams and gone back to sleep, or…. was it something much worse? He tried nudging her again.

"Hermione? Can you hear me? Wake up, my heart. It's me – your Ronald." He nestled against her. "Come back to me. Wake up. I've lost Harry already; I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here with me. Without you, the sun would have no warmth. The world would have no beauty. Hermione, my life would have no meaning."

"Don't stop now; it's just getting good."

Ron started.

"Hermione?"

"Ron, that was beautiful."

Ron looked closer. Hermione's eyes were still shut. Oh, great. She had been responding to him in her sleep. Well, at least he knew she was alive and seemed OK. He flopped back onto the pillow and tried to go back to sleep.


Still later that night, Hermione awoke, alone in the large bed. She glanced about. "Ron?" she called softly. No response. Finally, she spotted him staring out the window of their room at the nighttime sky. She slipped out of bed, keeping the bed sheet tightly around her naked form. She leaned against the window frame, watching him with a small smile.

"Why didn't you wake me?" she asked tenderly. Ron looked back to her, then away again.

"I didn't want to disturb you. You had a nightmare earlier before falling back. Besides…"and he gave a rueful laugh. "The night has kept me awake enough. Look."

He pointed out the window. Hermione followed his gaze. In the distance, just before the horizon, flashes of light could be seen. She gasped.

"Is that…?"

Ron nodded grimly. "That's Hogwarts, love. The battle has begun. Bill and Fleur left to fight."

"Should we run? Like Harry said?" and there was an odd sort of panic to her voice.

"No, Bill told me to stay here with you; I saw both him and Fleur off. It's probably one of the safest places in the area right about now. There are wards all over the property – no one will get in, much less anywhere near us."

Hermione leaned against his shoulder, trying not to cry.

"He must be so scared," she whispered; there was no need to tell Ron whom she was referring to. He likely already knew. Ron nodded solemnly.

"I wish Harry all the luck in the world. He's going to need it." So saying, he gently began to rub Hermione's back as they watched the flashes continue like fireworks – no, multi-colored lightning – across the sky.

"I'm scared, Ron - of what happens if we lose this war," Hermione admitted.

Ron cast a sideways glance at her. "Can I be honest with you, love?"

"Sure."

"I'm more scared of what happens if we win."

"Why?" She peered at him curiously.

"Well, because everything after that is a big blank. An empty canvas. There would be nothing left to do; no more dangers left to fight. And…. it would mean that we can start on our future together, like we discussed yesterday. I don't know about you, Hermione, but I think this - what we have now between us - is meant to last. I think we'll be married in a couple more years."

Hermione smiled sweetly and leaned towards him. "Yes. I agree. And in a couple years after that, we'll probably be parents!" Her voice indicated that she was exhilarated by the prospect.

"Yeah," Ron sighed with a soft smile. But, it quickly melted into a frown. "What if they don't like me - our kids?" Hermione sighed in exasperation and moved away slightly from the window.

"Ronald…."

"No, really, I'm serious!" Ron stressed, turning to follow her motions.

"Ron, with your family's fertility, we're going to have multiple kids. Odds are one of them is bound to like you." She approached the bed, her body still wrapped in its sheets. Ron now stood and followed, a sentimental smile on his face. Noticing his expression, Hermione turned back to face him.

"What?"

"You remember how we met?" Ron grinned.

Hermione rolled her eyes, trying and slightly failing to hide her amusement. "Well, I try not to," she sighed facetiously.

"Well, I remember," Ron pressed, the smile not leaving his face. "'Excuse me, has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one!'", imitating a young Hermione's bossy tone as he lunged for his love and began to tickle her. Hermione squealed and tried to squirm away.

"Ronald!"

"No, but I think I just popped a Chocolate Frog into my mouth…." Ron kept up the game as he now made smacking noises with his lips, trying to get a kiss out his girlfriend. Hermione leapt into bed, Ron right behind. "Here he is - cutie's here!" Ron laughed in triumph, trapping Hermione in an embrace and kissing her. Giggling and cuddling, the pair banished fears of war and the safety of friends from their minds as they settled back to sleep.


That next afternoon, Ron and Hermione were fixing lunch.

"Have you heard anything on the wireless, sweetheart?" Hermione asked.

Ron smiled at her use of the pet name. He could get used to hearing that from her. He cleared his thoughts with a shake of his head. "Nothing. It's been jammed all day."

Suddenly, a voice called out:

"Ron! Hermione!"

Hermione gasped and the pair looked at each other.

"It couldn't be!" said Ron, even as a hopeful grin invaded his face. Both ran out of the house.

There, on the beach, stood Harry – a weary smile on his face. And very much alive.

Hermione ran towards him with a beaming smile. However, as Ron watched them draw closer to each other, Hermione's smile morphed into almost an insane one; she let out a scream of rage and the next second, she was punching every inch of Harry that she could reach.

"What the – bloody hell – Hermione! – OW!"

"You – complete – noble – pigheaded – arse – Harry – James – Potter!" Hermione punctuated each word with a blow. Harry backed up, his hands in the surrender position, shielding his face.

"You – left – us – here – with – only – a – note! Didn't – even – let – us - say –goodbye! Oh, where's my wand? I'll hex you good and proper!" She turned back to Ron, who by now was laughing at the sight that eerily reminded him of the night he returned to the Horcrux Hunt. He showed Hermione her wand, but held it back when she reached for it.

"I will only give it to you if you promise to lay off Harry, love. Though I do think it's sweet poetic justice that we both have now been beaten up by you-" he grinned, "-I think it's best if we give him a chance to explain himself first." He looked to Harry. "Fancy a talk over tea and biscuits, mate?"

Harry gave half a grimace, nodding as he rubbed his burning muscles. And together, the three friends went inside Shell Cottage – to chat and also begin the next phase of their lives.