Fireside Chats: Chapter 2

She was stalling, and he probably knew it at this point. She didn't know what awaited her downstairs, but this couldn't be the worst conversation to have with Ron, right?

It was remarkable how creatively they had avoided each other. Only days before the big rescue mission, they have had avoided eye contact, talking directly to one another, and sitting near each other. Although, it was easy once Mrs. Weasley put Hermione straight to work for the wedding. Mrs. Weasley had been hounding Ron to clean his room, so he mostly hid up there. Hermione was sure Ginny would notice the tension; then again, Ginny seemed distracted and on-edge since her exclusion from the Order.

As much as she'd rather keep to herself, Hermione couldn't just ignore what had happened. They finally opened up to each other! The least they could do was talk about it. Hermione was still throwing together a pros and cons list in her head about it when Ron had found her in the barn.

"I hope you're here to switch chores," Ginny said, wiping sweat from her face. "I doubt the wedding guests are going to care if the hay barrels are on the left instead of the right."

Ron shifted his feet. "I need to talk to Hermione."

Hermione stiffened and felt her heart beating fast again. She wasn't ready. She didn't go through all of her options yet.

"Why can't you say it in front of me?" Ginny asked, rather crossly. "If it's Order business, Hermione's told me everything."

"Merlin, Ginny! I just need one minute."

"This is bullshit!"

"Ginny," Hermione intervened. "It'll take a second."

Ginny gave her friend a pleasing look, but ultimately threw her pitchfork on the ground. "Fine. I'll be by the broom shed." And she stomped away.

Still wanting to avoid eye contact, Hermione continued working. She shoved her pitchfork in the barrel of hay and chucked a good amount of it to the other side of the barn. "She's been out of order for a while now, hasn't she?"

"It's Harry's fault, I reckon," he said darkly.

"No, it's not," she argued. "She's mad at your Mum. We both know she can take care of herself."

"That's not the point. She's still underage-!"

"Is this why you came in here, Ron?"

"No, I need- I have to-"

"Ronald!" They both turned to Mrs. Weasley's voice in the distance. "Help your father with refurbishing and duplicating the chairs."

"We need to talk," he said before he left. "Meet me in the living room tonight."

Her mental debate went out the window with his statement. He had said it with conviction, and that scared Hermione most of all. Nevertheless, she had agreed.

She waited until a grumpy Ginny fell asleep. It took a while too; the redhead had a heated argument with her mother about wedding preparations. It was uncalled for, and she normally did not act this way. Hermione supposed that Ginny was upset about her breakup with Harry about a month ago. It must have still been pretty raw. Hermione hoped that everything would be fine once they rescued Harry from his Aunt and Uncle's house.

Once she figured the coast was clear, she tip-toed to the door. Hand on the doorknob, she struggled to move forward. This all seemed a lot easier in her head, and yet, there she was, anxious and excited about the unknown. It was now or never, and Ron did not deserve never. And neither did she. Nor did she want to keep stalling. She took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart and, finally, opened the door.

The fire was still roaring from that evening. Ron most likely kept the fire burning for their conversation. He was sitting in the exact same spot from three days ago. Hermione knew he heard her walking down, for the stairs made soft creaks with every step. Still, he didn't turn around. But when she was in his view, he finally did look up. They haven't made eye contact since the incident, so seeing Ron's bright blue eyes staring at her brown was quite surprising.

His face went red, but he mustered a lopsided grin. "Hey."

"Hi," Hermione breathed.

And in no time at all, it seemed, Ron was up as Hermione met him halfway. The tension that grew from the first kiss was definitely severed by their second. It was a bit rougher than last time, but only because of the very obvious height difference. Hermione never realized how truly tall he was until the moment she couldn't wrap her arms fully around his neck without standing on her toes. He counter-balanced her efforts by bending over slightly. His hands found her waist and drew her closer. It was the most uncomfortable pleasure Hermione has ever experienced, and it was happening with Ron!

She didn't know how long they were swaying, lips locked together, but at some point, they pulled apart. Hermione wrapped her arms around his torso as he rested his chin on top of her head. They both made a collective sigh; this was really happening.

"I'm sorry," she heard Ron mumble in her hair.

Hermione backed away, confused. "Why are you sorry?"

He shrugged. "For being a git."

"I hope you're talking about last year…" When he nodded, she relaxed and invited him to sit with her in front of the fire. She knew this conversation had to happen, but that didn't mean she was ready for it. "Alright," she started, placing her hands in her lap. "Why were you a git?"

Ron took a breath in and confessed, "I fancy you. I have for a while, but I didn't exactly know how to tell you."

"You could have just told me," she tried, but he raised an eyebrow.

"Probably the same reason you didn't tell me," he laughed. But in an instant, his face was full of fear. "That is if you… you know…"

Hermione felt herself nod. "Yes, Ronald, I fancy you."

"Brilliant," he said more to himself.

They both stared at the fire, relishing in the realization that their feelings were mutual.

Despite her excitement, Hermione admitted quietly, "You were a huge git."

"I didn't say I was a huge git!" he argued, but it was all in good fun. He knew she was right.

She nudged him and he nudged back, still not looking at each other, still sporting dopey grins.

"I'm sorry too," Hermione said. "I shouldn't have been so cross with you."

"It was warranted," Ron shrugged off. Hermione felt Ron slide his hand over to grasp hers, and her stomach did a backflip. "Could we start over?"

"No."

Their eyes finally met again. Before Ron could sputter his confused reply, Hermione smiled. "Why would you want to start over? We're best friends. We have been through everything together: keeping Harry out of trouble, playing a magical chess board, studying... No, I'd rather continue to be honest."

"Fights and all?"

"Yes, Ronald," she said, allowing him to move closer to her. "Fights and all."