By Weasley is my King
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me. The characters and the song the story is loosely based on don't belong to me. Please keep in mind this is a work of fiction.
Author's Note: Hi! This is a story based very loosely on a song called "Take My Hand" by Dido. So yay for that. Just please remember to Read & Review. Oh, and hey, I've started a website for my works, so please check that out. The link is in my profile and I'll list it here. The link is here .
She was scared. She had been scared all along.
The young witch opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. She could feel Ron beside her. At least he was sitting close to her. She wished he would tell her what he was thinking, what he was feeling. Was he scared? Was he worried that they wouldn't be able to defeat the Dark Lord? Was he nervous about upcoming battles? Did he feel prepared for loss? What were his thoughts on the prophecy?
So many questions.
Hermione closed her eyes again, trying to push the worries she possessed away. Maybe she would fall asleep. Perhaps dreams of dancing sugar quills would enter her mind. She could only hope. Her worries wouldn't leave her. They were insistent. Harry will more than likely die. It's the only way. They taunted her. There's a chance that all of these people will die, everyone you love will be gone forever. She hadn't notice her heart rate quicken or her breathing shorten. She would have continued worrying and panicking if it hadn't been for Ron's large, callused hand that rested atop of her own.
"It's okay," Ron whispered, as to not disturb the silence they shared. "It was just a dream."
"I wasn't asleep." Hermione said stupidly, dumbfounded by the sign of affection from her best friend. "I was just thinking…"
"Well, you're okay." Ron assured her, hesitantly removing his hand.
"No." Hermione said, mortifying herself for actually protesting to that action out loud.
"No? No what?" Ron asked, looking into her eyes.
"What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked, ignoring his initial question as she turned in her seat to gaze at him. Hold my hand and tell me. I just want to be close to you, her brain screamed.
"You," he said bravely. Truth be told, he was horrified of telling her how he felt… about her. It was the truth though; he was thinking about her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let her go.
Hermione willed Ron to continue. What about her? Was he about to admit his feelings towards her? What if this was it, the moment she had been waiting for? Ron didn't continue. He stared just above her head for a moment. He sighed deeply and squeezed her hand.
Hermione wanted Ron to tell her what he felt for her and how he was feeling about the upcoming war. She wanted to hear how he loved her. She wanted to be able to tell him he loved him and that she wouldn't know what to do if anything happened to him.
She wanted him to tell her what he saw when he looked at her. Did he see beauty? Grace? Fear? Hope? What was her face telling people? When, exactly, did he realize his feelings for her? She knew what she saw when she looked at him. She saw hope, fear, joy, trust, strength, honesty… she had so much she wanted to tell him.
If he wasn't going to say anything, she was. She had to tell him. What if she never got the chance again?
When Ron didn't say anything, Hermione felt a strong sense of grief and panic fill her. Her eyes began to tear, casting Ron's own reflection back at him. Ron let go of her hand. He'd lost his nerve, and on top of that, she was starting to cry. Way to go, Ron, he told himself. Hermione stared down at her hands in her lap as though they had suddenly become extremely interesting.
"I need to tell you something," Hermione whispered. Ron just nodded. "I was thinking about you too. I think that…" she looked up to his face. "I don't know if or when I'll get another chance to tell you this, so I'll just say it."
"Okay."
"I'm in love with you, I'm sure of it," Hermione said shakily. She was terrified of telling him her heart. "I'm scared Ron, and I don't know what I'll do if I lose you in this war."
"I'm scared too." Ron told her quietly. "This whole bloody thing is too much for everyone to handle."
He had completely skipped over the "I love you" part. Now what?
"Ron, I just told you I love you," Hermione whispered. "Don't you have anything to say?"
Ron chuckled. Hermione was kind of offended, she didn't see anything funny about this situation. "I'm sorry, Hermione." He placed his hand on hers.
"You're sorry?"
"Yeah, I've been so bloody thick lately… well, forever. I should have told you the very first day I realized it. There is no question in my mind how I feel about you, but I did question how you felt about me. I would have told you sooner, but, you know me, I can't stand rejection."
"So…" Hermione tried to stay calm, "so you- er- you love me too?"
"How could I not?" Ron smiled crookedly. "You're amazing."
She didn't know what possessed her to do what she was about to do, but before she had time to think it through, Hermione threw her arms around Ron's neck and pressed her lips to his. However, they had no idea that Harry and Ginny had been sitting in the stairway talking. Just when they had decided to get a drink, they were on the way to the kitchen when they saw Ron and Hermione kissing.
"It's about bloody time," was all they had to say. The decided to turn back around and let them be. Hand in hand, they walked back up the stairs.
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