Fairy Tale Challenge (DAII)

Red Riding Hood - Write about bravery. Alternatively, write about Lily Evans.

Quidditch League: Harpies, Chaser 2

Mod!Head canon, Ron and Hermione almost kissed three times before they actually did in the books.

Optional Prompts:

5. (restriction) No using a '?'

6. (word) Piano

7. (image) Daisy Chain Bracelet

Word Count: 1,321 (Pages)

Percy Jackson Challenge:

Polyphemus: Write about someone looking for love.

"Courage is not the absence of fear but rather the judgement that something is more important than fear; The brave may not live forever but the cautious do not live at all."

-Meg Cabot


It was funny, Ron thought as he sat in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, how little of a Gryffindor he'd felt at school. Constantly overlooked as "just another Weasley," overshadowed by Harry's fame . . . no, Ron had not stood out in any way. Courage had evaded him throughout his school years. And yet here he was, planning to break into the Ministry of Magic to steal a Horcrux with two of the most wanted people in Wizarding Britain.

If he was being perfectly honest, Ron didn't consider this "courageous" at all—he was terrified out of his wits. Watching Hermione, who was bustling around the kitchen packing their bags and studying charts and diagrams like her life depended on it (which, Ron supposed, it did), he didn't think he'd ever be as strong and courageous as she was. She looked like a Valkyrie, the way she fiercely prepared for everything.

Merlin, he loved her so much.

Soon after arriving home from his sixth year, he'd asked his Dad how he'd worked up the courage to ask out Mum. He'd chuckled and cast a knowing glance over to where Hermione sat talking with Ginny.

"Son, it wasn't really working up the courage to ask her. It was more knowing I would never forgive myself if I didn't."

Ron didn't find that advice very helpful.

Just do it, Ron. Do something nice for her for a change.

Before he could give himself time to think, he'd pushed back his chair and moved to her side. "Hermione, slow down," he said, grabbing her hands and forcing her into stillness.

"I—"

"—have checked over everything at least three times. We're going to be fine. You know us; we always manage to pull through." He tugged at her hands gently.

She took a few steps backward. "Ron…"

"You can take a break. Come on, come teach me how to play the piano again." He grinned at her, leading her towards the old piano they'd found in Sirius' living room.

She sat down on the right side of the bench, leaving room for him beside her. Her slender fingers glided over the keys easily as she tried to show his clumsy appendages what to do.

"No, no, like this," she said, laughing as his fingers hit the wrong notes. She leaned in, her cheek almost brushing against his as she placed her hand over his. She turned to look at him, the laughter dying in her eyes as a question rose in them instead.

Just do it, Ron.

His eyes flicked towards her lips, and he swallowed. He leaned in a little closer.

Bang!

They sprang apart as the front door slammed open, both of them drawing their wands (Ron cursed as his elbow hit the piano) and racing to see who the intruder was.

Only until after Lupin had identified himself did Ron remember what had been about to happen, but when he tried to catch Hermione's eye, she made an excuse and went back to packing.


Being Splinched in front of Hermione had been one of the most humiliating experiences of his life (it barely beat out being nearly poisoned by Slughorn's bloody wine—what a lame way to go). Being nursed back to health by her, however, was turning out to be better than expected.

They were both sitting inside the tent, Ron on the lower bunk and Hermione in a chair next to him with a mug of hot cocoa. Harry was outside keeping watch with the Horcrux, so the two of them were warm, relaxed, and as burden-free as they could be when on the run for their lives.

She was telling him about her parents. Ron remembered the Grangers, though he hadn't seen them often—the few times they'd gone to Diagon Alley, they had been awed by the magic and wonder of the hidden world.

"Mum used to make hot cocoa like this whenever I was scared, or upset." Tears began to leak from her eyes. Hermione gave no indication that she knew she was crying.

Ron shifted uncomfortably. "Hermione. . . ." He started to climb out of bed, but with his arm was in a sling, there was not much comforting he could do. He inched over so there was room on the bed for one more and motioned with his good arm. "Come here."

She moved next to him, her head leaning against his shoulder, her face slightly upturned towards his.

Just do it. Be brave.

Taking a deep breath, he leaned down and—

"Brr, it's cold outside! Hermione, it's your turn to take watch," Harry said as he walked back into the tent.

Hermione squeaked and sprang out of the bed.

Harry raised his eyebrows and said nothing.

"I'm fine, Harry!" she said, her voice an octave higher than its usual timbre.

"Didn't say you weren't," Harry said as Hermione snatched the Horcrux from his hand and bolted out the tent door. "Something is seriously wrong with her," Harry said to Ron.

Ron managed to smile despite the disappointment beating a hole in his chest.


After the exhausting ordeal with the dragon in Gringotts, the three of them took a much-needed break. As soon as they'd set up the tent and their protective charms, Harry had immediately retreated inside, claiming exhaustion and a headache.

Hermione sat in the field of flowers a few yards away from the tent. Ron slid down next to her, watching her pluck small white daisies and steadily weave their stems together.

"Flower chain," she said, answering his questioning gesture. "Used to make them all the time when I was small." She motioned for him to hold his wrist out, and he obliged, watching as she slipped it around his wrist and tied the end.

He slid his hand into hers, interlocking their fingers together.

Their eyes met. He saw the conflicting emotions in hers, and his heart began to pound.

"You know, I always wondered why the Sorting Hat put me in Gryffindor. I didn't feel as brave as you and Harry always were. So many times I found myself wishing that we could have a normal year at Hogwarts."

"We all wished it. Even Harry."

Ron glanced down at their entwined hands, "You always made me feel brave, Hermione." He reached out with his free hand, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

She swallowed, breathing quickening as he leaned in closer. He was really going to do it this time, he was going to kiss her, he was going to—

"Ron! Hermione!" Harry bolted from the tent, and the two sprang apart once again.

"Damn it, Harry," Ron muttered. Hermione smirked and opened her mouth to say something, but then Harry was shouting something about a Horcrux at Hogwarts, something of Ravenclaw's, and before Ron could get Hermione alone again, they'd turned on the spot and Apparated to Hogsmeade.


DO IT, RON, MERLIN. JUST DO IT ALREADY, DO IT, DO IT, DO IT—

"Ron was really quite brilliant—"

"Always the tone of surprise with you."

And then, without either of them seeming to have moved, they were in each other's arms, lips pressed together and basilisk fangs scattered on the floor.

Harry was yelling something, but Ron couldn't hear the words, all he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat, or maybe that was Hermione's heartbeat—

"Oi! There's a war going on here!"

Ron pulled back sheepishly. "I know, mate. So it's now or never." He slipped an arm around Hermione's shoulders.

She leaned into his embrace, and suddenly Ron felt invincible.


Later on, when it was all over and he had time to lie in bed and replay that first kiss in his mind, he wondered how he'd finally found the courage to kiss her.

"She's more important than fear," he whispered aloud, and for the first time in his life, he felt like a Gryffindor.