The hot, bright sunlight shown dazzlingly through the thin, white curtains that barely obscured the windows in Hermione's bedroom, waking her from the marvelous dream she had been having. Her eyes squeezed tighter as she realized the sun was shining on the other side of her eyelids. Finally, she could ignore it no longer and she couldn't go back to sleep; she was up for the day.
Hermione sighed and sat up, Crookshanks leaping onto her lap as she did. It had been three days since her spat with Ron, and neither of them had said anything to the other. Harry seemed to have chosen to stay completely out of it. Before the war and during, Hermione could've stayed angry with Ron for ages. But now, in the aftermath of Voldemort's death, she never wanted to stay furious with anyone for too long, for fear they would be gone from her the next day.
Apparently, Ron felt the same way, for an hour later he stood on her threshold, staring at her with those pleading blue eyes, and nonverbally begging for her forgiveness.
Hermione folded her arms and waited for him to apologize, or at least to speak to her, because all he was doing was gaping at her, looking lost for words.
"May I help you with something, Ronald?" she asked icily, her tone dripping with disdain.
"I – I miss you," said Ron quietly, his eyes never leaving hers. Hermione raised an eyebrow and turned, leaving Ron to enter on his own, which he seemed to take as a good sign, opposed to her deep yearning to slam the door in his face.
She began to sort the brand-new books she had bought the day before in Diagon Alley onto the never ending shelves of books that covered her entire living room. She did not face Ron or meet his eyes, but busied herself as best as she could with the books. Even if it had been three days, she still wanted to be furious with him.
"Hermione, I miss you."
Ron's voice carried from the doorway of her living room, and she froze with a book held in midair. Then, shaking her head as if she had imagined his voice, she proceeded back to her book shelving. However, she heard Ron's footsteps as he strode swiftly across the room to stand in front of her. He reached out and seized the book she was holding from the grasp, causing her to meet his eyes for the first time. He grabbed her hand rather tentatively, for fear she would lash out and swat him away. She did not, because deep within her, she was missing his tender touch and the sweetness he delivered with it.
He had her gaze now, and neither of them was breaking it. Ron squeezed her hand and said in a soft voice, "I miss rescuing you from giant trolls on Halloween night."
Hermione bit back a smile, looking at him suspiciously and wondering what he was on about. However, Ron went on as if he hadn't noticed her expression.
"I miss following spiders into the Forbidden Forest to make sure you'll be Unpetrified. I miss fighting with you about stupid things, like your cat eating my rat."
Ron sighed and pulled her into his arms slowly, watching her unblinkingly and cautiously, as if he was still afraid she would resist him.
But he already had her, and she knew it. She gave in, and he pulled her into his arms. "I miss watching you dance with other blokes and wishing it was me you were dancing with instead. I miss watching you work on homework, because your eyes become focused like you're always reading something interesting." Ron took a chance and pulled her in closer, so his arms were now wrapped fully around her waist. She placed her arms on his forearms, hoping she didn't look like she was giving in too easily.
"I miss seeing your face on the sidelines while I'm playing Quidditch. I miss dancing with you at my brother's wedding. I miss saving you from the Cruciatus Curse. I miss kissing you in the middle of a war." Ron's face turned the softest Hermione had ever seen it, but a ghost of smile lingered on it as well. "I miss you, Hermione."
At this, Hermione could take no more, and the tears that had been threatening to fall finally did. She hugged Ron tightly and buried her face in the nape of his neck. "I miss you, Ron."
He pulled away, now staring at her with a mingled look of fright and curiosity. She ignored this, and continued. "I miss teaching you how to levitate a feather, even if you do it wrong. I miss brewing a Polyjuice Potion in the girls' lavatory with you." Ron smiled a bit at this, and Hermione could only slightly return it before going on.
"I miss forgiving you for stupid fights. I miss your stupid jealousy, because I converse with other blokes besides you and Harry. I miss kissing you for good luck for Quidditch matches. I miss attacking you with charmed birds because of my jealousy."
Hermione sighed and tousled his hair, running her fingers through it a few times. Ron closed his eyes at her touch, and she stopped only to finish her dialogue.
"I miss fixing you up when you're Splinched. I miss crying over you when you leave. I miss waking to your face after being tortured." She shrugged dismissively, and looked at him in a sad kind of way. "I miss kissing you during the middle of a war. I miss you, Ron."
It seemed this was all Ron could take. He grabbed her by the waist and kissed her almost roughly, and it reminded Hermione of the night of the battle of Hogwarts. There was so much put into that first kiss: eagerness, hastiness, and especially the lingering fact that either of them could've easily been killed that night.
But this kiss, this one they were indulging in at the very moment, seemed just as hasty, just as eager, but in a different way. Their lives were no longer in peril, but they still felt that need to do it right at that moment, for fear either of them would be lost in the next.
They broke apart after what seemed to be several long years to Hermione. Both breathing rather rapidly, they stared at one another for what could've been a few centuries. Finally, Ron asked the golden question that reminded Hermione that he was not entirely off the hook:
"So, do you forgive me?"