So all I've been writing lately is Twilight…and I needed a break, a change, something different.
Which brings us to this, my return to my beloved Harry Potter universe…oh how I've missed you! I've wanted to do something with R/Hr and this Kevin Devine song "Billion Bees" for awhile now, just because it is amazing and fits them perfectly, but I couldn't seem to pen anything I liked. However, after a fit of daydreaming one night I cooked up this little idea, and after I wrote it I decided to plug in a few of the lyrics. Now, I don't know about you, but when I read songfics I totally skip over the lyrics part, but this is really good, and you should youtube the song…if you're into indie folk rock…which you should be because it's awesome.
Oh, and I haven't read Deathly Hallows in awhile because my cousin has it. She swears she won't read it because "everyone good dies" but I'm not letting her give it back until she experiences the greatness! I mean, I read Breaking Dawn for her! Anyway, forgive any technical errors due to my forgetfulness, because they are her fault.
PS: I own nothing.
PSS: sorry about the world longest authors note.
I found you grieving in the grass
the sky bled water colored blue
you seemed so simple sure and sad
so I sat down to grieve with you
Sitting alone in the Gryffindor common room, Ronald Weasley held his wand tightly in his white-knuckled hand. His outline was illuminated by the few candles burning low in sconces someone (certainly not him) had lit at some point after nightfall. His breathing was deep and steady, as if every breathe he drew in required a conscious decision to exhale. And it very well might have. He was trying to think, so very hard to concentrate on this one thing, on anything that wasn't what was consuming his whole world at the moment. Clenching his teeth, he forced himself to block everything else out. Under his breath he let out a venomous-sounding hiss, and muttered the spell with the sort of heated emphasis and determination that had never come forth from him in a classroom setting. Again and again he repeated the rasping phrase so foreign to his blistered lips, but to no avail. His patience had been worn beyond thin, and with a jolt of fury he abandoned his quiet tone and the unfamiliar words for his old standbys.
Loudly he swore, in great abundance and wide variety as only a Weasley boy could. He ran through the repertoire of every word he had ever learned from his brother's equally filthy mouths, most notably including zibbersquat and flupstaff, two words the twins told him were so disgustingly and deviously nasty that no one ever said them out loud. The twins… Fred…his meticulously focused concentration was shattered in an instant and fury tore through him with lightning speed. Using every ounce of his strength he sent his wand hurling in an arch away from him. With a snap the thin wood collided with the bare and burnt wall and rolled to the ground, clattering with a deafening sound as it rolled across the floor in the dead silent room.
"You might have broken your wand you know. Again." Hermione voice rang out from the shadows beyond the doorway. Her words were confident, typical of Hermione, but her voice was anything but. Meek and raspy, her tone bore the tell-tale warble of the countless tears she had shed that day.
"Thanks for the tip. I'll try to remember that little tidbit the next time one of my brothers is murdered." He deadpanned, kicking the coffee table away from him and crossing his arms over his chest.
"I'm sorry…" her voice cracked, and she was grateful he couldn't see her from where she stood. "I'll just leave then."
Ron let out a deep sigh and dropped his head into his hands, knowing that she was the last person in the world he should be taking his anger out on. "No, Hermione, don't go…I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm being a total prat, I just…"
"I know. I mean, I know he wasn't my brother, but I loved him too. We all did. And Remus and Tonks and-" Her voice caught as a few tears slid down her cheeks, but sick and tired of crying, she took a few deep breaths and tried to steady herself by changing the subject. "But anyway, umm, I heard you, from out in the hall. Were you trying to perform a healing charm on yourself?"
"Trying to, but I managed to bugger that up as well. I think I've actually made a few of them ooze a bit more if that is even possible."
"Do you…do you want me to help?" She stepped out of the dark and leaned against the doorframe, the bruises on her pale skin even more ghastly looking in the dim candlelight. Ron felt anger bubbled up within him just looking at her. These people, the ones who killed Fred, who hurt Hermione…
"Don't you think that your time would be better spent healing yourself?" he seethed.
Self-consciously she reached up to cover her face with her hand, though it bore just as many scratches and burns as the rest of her. "I'm fine, honest. Madam Pomphrey helped a little…she's busy of course, so she couldn't get to all of my...scrapes. But she taught me a few new charms, so that I could work on the rest of them myself, and I could try them out on you…but if you'd rather have another go at it yourself, I understand."
"Yeah, because obviously that is working out so bloody sodding well."
"Ronald!"
"What, you aren't going to lecture me about my language now, are you? Sorry…just don't go tell my mom, okay? Please?"
She didn't smile, because she couldn't, not after what she had seen that day, but her eyes brightened just a bit at his sarcasm. Because through all of it, he was Ron and she was Hermione and this was how they were, how they had always been. Wincing slightly as she stooped to retrieve his wand, she made her way over the overstuffed sofa where he was sprawled. Hermione offered him back his wand, but when he only shrugged his shoulders dejectedly she dropped it on the table next to them. Pulling out her own wand, she twirled it nervously between her fingers as her eyes traveled up and down his seated form, taking in every scratch and line and bruise and bloodstain. Her brow furrowed in concern.
"Oh Ron, I think we should have Madam Pomphrey take a look at you. These really are quite bad, I don't know if I can heal them properly."
"No. I'm not leaving this room, not tonight. I can't go out there with all of them. You'll do just fine, I trust you Hermione." He attempted to lean back casually against the sofa, but couldn't help recoiling when contact with his damaged skin was made. Ron had changed shirts sometime earlier that night, and though he had rolled the shirtsleeves up to his elbows, the dark crimson of blood darkened the fabric further up his arms. Buoyed up by his confidence in her, Hermione took a step closer and laid a gentle hand next to the largest gash, measuring its width against her fingers. He resisted the urge to close his eyes in relief at her soft touch.
"Maybe…maybe we should, that is, you should, take…your shirt off? You know, so I can heal the whole wound? And not just the parts I can see now?" She couldn't believe, after all they had been through, she was blushing still. For Heaven's sakes, she had all but ravaged the boy with her mouth a few hours ago! But then again, those hours could have accounted for years in the life of a normal person. She could see now, that them, the three of them, would never be normal people, not after this. But in this instant, she could still be, or at least pretend to be, a silly little schoolgirl with a soul-consuming crush on her best friend. Who was about to take his shirt off.
"Umm, sure, sure, yeah. That makes sense." He stood, towering over her, and with scorched fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. Sliding the fabric off his shoulders, he caught his breath as the cold air made contact with his injuries.
Hermione gasped at the sight as well, tears yet again welling in her eyes as she took his battered shape in. He had been so brave, so strong, not only tonight but for all the years she had known him, and her love for him was so overpowering in that instant that she could scarcely speak. Using her wand, she gestured for him to take a seat, and then set to work. Starting out standing beside the sofa next to him, she began to weave and bob, calling out spells he had never heard of with the utmost accuracy and precision. Pain gripped him almost instantly, as he knew it should when a healing charm of this magnitude was working, but he tried not to let it show on his face. Instead he screwed his eyes shut tightly and took slow deep breaths, letting his feelings for her carry him through it all. After awhile, the pain subsided and a gentle cooling sensation began to settle over his limbs. He opened his eyes and met her gaze, the two of them remaining locked in stare for a long wordless moment.
"Why don't you lie back a bit, so I can get that one on your side?" Hermione whispered finally, dropping her wand a bit and flicking it towards the couch.
Silently he nodded, lying back with ease now that she had taken care of the burns a Death Eater had graced him with on his back. She dropped to her knees on the floor beside him and began her ministrations once more. The damage, however, refused to fuse together. Biting her lip in annoyance, she repeated the spell multiple times, but with hardly a change.
"How strange…" she mumbled, absentmindedly placing her hand on his chest and tracing the outline of the gash with her fingertips as it trailed down his ribs. "Who ever hit you with this must have cursed the wound not to heal. I keep trying but it's only mended in the slightest; I suppose I'll just have to try again tomorrow." Still focusing on his wound, she didn't meet his eyes as she tried to tell him what had been plaguing her since the battle. "I know there is nothing I can say to you now, but I feel like I should at least try. About Fred…oh Ron, I'm so so sorry…"
"Why? It isn't your fault Hermione." His tone was gruff, but he was determined not to cry in front of Hermione.
"I know, but…but…" her lower lip began to tremble, and hot tears trickled from her bloodshot eyes. She gave up hope at trying to hold them at bay any longer and let her sobs consume her. Ron's hand closed over hers where it still lay on his chest and he sat up carefully, tugging her up on the seat next to him in the process. Their earlier kiss had hung in the air thickly between them all night, each of them consciously keeping their distance from one another. Now though, he pulled her close, slipping an arm around her heaving shoulders to that her head came to rest against his chest. He ran his fingers through her matted curls and tried to summon a bit of courage.
"Hermione…Fred was my brother, and though he was a complete and utter git sometimes, I loved him dearly. I love all my family, every last crazy one of them. So yeah, I'm sad he's gone, and yes, I'm angry at the ones who took him from me, and it's probably going to take me awhile to get over it all. But the thing is… we won Hermione. Fred's death, and Lupin's, and Dumbledores….they weren't for nothing. We beat them, and you, Harry, and I were a huge part of that. Good triumphed over evil and all that, you know?"
Lifting her head, she looked up at him and tried to compose herself. He was right, of course, and yet again she was in complete admiration of his strength. But just as she was about to tell him so, Ron inhaled deeply and began again, staring at her with the utmost sincerity as he spoke.
"So that's why I've got to do this. I'm scared, terrified even, but I have to do it. For Fred. Because I know it's what he would have wanted."
And then, slowly, so slowly that she thought he heart would stop beating in sheer anticipation, he began to lean towards her. The gap between them was short, but she swore it took him an eternity to close it. Gently, he took a hold of her chin with one hand, and she relished the rough feeling of his calluses against her chin. They both shut their eyes in the same instant, and when their lips met, it was that same explosion that she had told herself she must have imaged when they first kissed earlier that night. They stayed entangled until neither of them could breathe, and when they did part both were breathing heavily.
"Not that I'm complaining or anything, because….wow, but how exactly was that for Fred?" she whispered, her cheeks pink and her chest heaving.
Ron only chuckled and pulled her into his lap, where they were both delighted to find she fit quite perfectly. "Because, he would have been completely and utterly disgusted with me to find out that you were the one to initiate our first kiss. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty disappointed in myself about that. Anyway, I had to be sure you didn't beat me to the second. Fred always said that my mum was desperate for some red-headed bushy haired grandbabies, and if I wasn't man enough to give them to her then he was going to have to step up. Guess he can't now, so I've got to start following through."
She blushed even deeper at the fact that his family had discussed her so, and at the thought of having children with Ron. Of Mrs. Weasley thinking about her having children with Ron…ugh. However, he wouldn't allow her the time to be embarrassed, and leaned down to capture her lips once more.
"Hmm, two outta three ain't bad. Don't worry, I'll let you get the next one." He murmured into her skin, and she shivered with hope for everything to come.
I tucked your hair behind you ears
and I watched your eyes dart back and forth
and I sucked your lip and bit your neck
the trees were shaking at their roots
my angry arms felt cool and calm
and my cotton mouth was wet with you
so we lay glowing in the grass
to watch the sun swap with the moon
to trade our future for our past
the present tense was all we knew
There it is! Oh, and I don't remember any specifics about healing spells or charms or whathaveyou, so I made it up.