The new camp they had to set up was dark. It was in the middle of a forest low in a valley. The moonlight didn't have the chance to reach them as they slumbered. Ron and Harry slept soundly in the tent while Hermione kept watch outside the flaps.
She hugged her arms around herself and shivered. The night was cold and spooky. Off in the trees to her right she kept hearing strange crackling noises. She closed her eyes rightly and hoped that the barrier she'd put up would serve to protect them.
It was nearly two hours into her shift, and she felt as if she was losing her mind. The sounds had grown louder and closer, and she couldn't deduce whether it was really something scuttling around in the woods or just her isolation induced paranoia. A branch snapped beside her in the bush, making her gasp. She was shaking from the fear, but she blamed it on the cold.
A blanket surrounded her shoulders, and she jumped. She whipped around only to find Ron crouched behind her. She sighed heavily in relief.
"I thought you might like some company," he said as he took up his seat on the log next to her. "It's quite chilly out here. Nice in the tent though, thanks to that little fireplace."
"I bet," she said, placing her hand over her heart. It was beating rather fast, probably due to her recent startle. "I keep thinking I hear something moving around in the bushes."
"Ah, just some deer, more than likely," he huffed. "We're not in a very conspicuous location. I doubt any snatchers would think to look here."
"Yeah, you're right," she sighed. She pulled the blanket closer around her shoulders. "Thanks for the blanket. Why are you up?"
"I dunno. Just didn't feel too much like sleeping tonight." He ran his hand through his tousled hair.
"Mm…" she responded.
A moment of silence passed between the two of them.
"Hermione, do you remember when Professor Slughorn accidently gave me that poisoned cup of wine, and I was in the hospital wing for, like, a week?"
"How could I forget?" she asked. She bit her lip and stared at the ground between her feet. It had been a very emotional week for her.
"Well, I've dreamed of it several times since then, and I've remembered something."
"Oh?" Her heart quickened again.
"You."
Hermione looked over at him, blushing slightly. "…Huh?"
"I remember you." He turned himself on the log to face her. "You stayed by my bed the whole time, missed your classes, held my hand, talked to me, and even sang. When Lavender came to see me, I was angry. I wanted to ask you to make her go away, but all I could say was your name. Though that seemed to do the trick." He nibbled on his lip and glanced at his lap. "Did I imagine all that?"
"Yes," she said quickly. "What a silly thing to have dreamed. You really were out of it. Must have been those drugs the nurse gave you."
Ron looked at her for a long moment, then sighed. "Care for a swig of brandy?" He pulled a small flask from his pocket and offered it to her.
"You know I don't drink," she said, but she jumped when a bush rustled behind her. A shiver ran through her as she looked into the dark. Her nerves were fried and exhausted. Perhaps a bit of warm liquor would help calm her. "On second thought, maybe I will." She snatched the flask and took a deep drink from it.
He smiled. "Don't drink too much. It'll go straight to your head."
She lowered the bottle from her lips, gasping and cringing from its potency. "God, what is this stuff? It's horrid."
"I use it to keep me warm while I'm on watch. And I usually force a bit on Harry before he goes to sleep to help keep his nightmares away," said the red-head. He stretched his arms over his head and dropped them to his sides.
"How thoughtful," the girl sighed. She replaced the stopper and set the flask on the ground between. When she went to put her hands on the log, her fingers fell over Ron's. Startled, she whisked her hand away, muttering a quick apology.
Ron looked at her for a minute, and then reached over and took her hand in his. "Why apologize? Your hands are frightfully cold. Haven't you ever heard of gloves?"
"I hate wearing those things. They make me clumsy with my wand," she said, staring at her hand in his. "You really don't need to hold my hand…"
"I know." He flashed her a smirk.
She blushed and looked away quickly. She gathered the blanket together in her fist, closing it tightly around her. Her heart was all aflutter, and she felt her belly fill with butterflies. "I lied."
"What?"
"I lied." She swallowed. "What you dreamed, it was true. You had said my name in the hospital room. I did stay by your side the whole time. I couldn't help it… I just couldn't bear the thought of leaving you in that state. I wanted to watch over you until you woke. I wanted to be there when you opened your eyes. Just to know that you were okay."
Ron gently tugged on her hand, pulling her closer to him. He touched his forehead to hers and looked deeply into her eyes. "Why are you telling me all this?" he whispered into her lips.
"Because I wanted you to know," she replied. "I want you to finally figure it out."
"Figure what out?"
She didn't reply. Instead, she hesitantly closed the space between them and pressed her lips to his. She kissed his softly for no longer than a second, and pulled away, blushing brightly.
Rom stared at her for a moment, bemused and fascinated. Then his face broke into a big grin. "I think the brandy did go straight to your head," he chuckled. "You aren't acting like my Hermione at all."
"The brandy did not go to my head," she defended, leaning away from him. Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment. How could she have let herself get so vulnerable? She let her guard down in front of the one boy she wanted to impress. She could just kick herself. "If you're only going to mock me, you can just go back in the tent and leave me my watch in peace."
He stared at her with a smirk on his lips, then shrugged. He picked up his flask, stood up, and walked briskly back to the tent, where he disappeared through the door flaps.
Hermione's shoulders drooped. The moment he left her, she felt very alone. Her heart immediately started to ache. She pulled the blanket even tighter around her and closed her eyes. She could still feel the warmth of his fingers around hers, but the cold was slowly creeping back in. She sighed.
The night was so lonely. The scant moonlight scattered in patches before her had been hidden by a series of clouds moving in from the west. All the birds were quiet; even the crickets were afraid to chirp and disturb the silence of the early autumn morning. She didn't even have the restless rustlings in the bushes to keep her company. Her eyelids were getting heavier by the second.
Her mind had begun drifting, so she barely noticed when Ron sat back down on the log beside her. She only startled alert when he placed a hot mug in her hands.
"Are you getting sleepy?" he asked softly. He brushed a piece of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear.
Hermione stared at the cup in her hands, watching the steam slowly rise and breathing in the sweet scent of chamomile tea. Her heart fluttered.
Ron took a sip of his tea and tilted his head to look at her face. "I had the kettle warming in the fireplace. I figured you might like some hot tea." He looked off into the woods. "I know things haven't been easy lately, and we haven't been able to have the little luxuries that we're used to. But I thought some tea might bring back some of the old comfort, you know?" He took another long sip from his mug.
She stared into her glass a second longer, and then looked up at him. "Thank you, Ron. But if you put brandy in this, I'll hurt you."
He laughed. And his laughter caused her to laugh. It felt good, laughing together like that. They hadn't been able to enjoy themselves enough to laugh in the recent weeks. The constant fear and anxiety tend to wear on the nerves, but as they chuckled the tension from their aching muscles, things for a moment didn't seem quite so bleak.
After a few moments, they calmed, sighing in content. Hermione sipped her tea slowly to savor the taste. The warmth spread from her tongue to her belly, and it felt wonderful. The blanket fell slack around her shoulders.
"I love you."
She choked on her tea.
"Phew, it feels good to get it out," Ron said, putting a hand against his chest. "I've been trying for days to think of a way to tell you, and that was the only way I could come up with that wouldn't seem corny or over-dramatized." He took a deep breath and let it out, looking in the opposite direction.
Hermione stared at the back of his head. She could feel her pulse thrumming in her veins, the sound of it ricocheting in the silence in her head. The pause lengthened between them, until finally she cleared her throat. "When did you decide this?" she asked. Her voice was cool, hiding any sign of emotional reaction.
He breathed out heavily and leaned his elbows on his knees. "I think part of me has always known," he said musingly. He stared off into the trees. "It was just called different things over the years. When we were kids, it was friendship. Then friendship became puppy love. Then all girls had cooties. Then cooties gave way to hormones, which formed teen love. And it's just escalated from there." He looked over at her with a crooked smile. "I think if it weren't for the brandy and the eerie scenery, I wouldn't have had the stones to tell you."
"I see…" She tapped her fingers on her lips and stared at the ground. Her whole body was alighted with demonstrative fireworks, frenzied by her melee of emotions. She couldn't decide what to say. Unlike her usual intelligent repartee, she was speechless.
Ron grabbed her hand from her lips and held it strongly in his own, bringing her attention back to him. "You don't have to say anything back," he told her. "I don't want you to feel like you owe me something. It was selfish of me, really, to just open up like that." He patted the back of her hand gently and set it back on her lap.
He stood up and stretched his arms high above his head. "It's such a beautiful night. Chilly, but gorgeous. I wonder if sunrise is close. I could really go for a warm breakfast… Eggs, and some bacon. Maybe a buttered biscuit, hot from the oven…"
"Ron…"
He turned and looked down at her. "Huh?"
"I'm not going to say it, but I want you to know that I feel it," Hermione began. "I know that you should know what I'm not going to say, and so I won't waste my breath saying it. But nonetheless, it's true, and whatever it is that I'm not going to say, I want you to realize that I feel it just like you, just as strong and deeply rooted and true. If you know what I'm playing at."
He turned and knelt in front of her, resting his hands on her knees. "Are you saying that what you're not going to say is exactly what I said to you before you had to say anything?"
"I may be."
"Well then if you're not going to say it, I can't pretend that it was said when it was never said, so saying that you're not going to say it when obviously you want to say it is only going to make you want to say it more, so you might as well say it."
"I love you."
"I know you do."
He kissed her. Soft, and quiet, and lovely. And he kept kissing her until the sun started to rise and paint the sky above the valley purple. And while the birds started to sing, and the crickets stopped chirping, and sounds of the morning began surrounding them, Hermione's watch was over. But instead of waking Harry, they let him sleep a little while longer, long enough for the two to enjoy the daybreak in blissful silence, because everything that needed said had been said. Finally.