A/N: As promised, here's your dose of Romione! Approximately 4k words! Note that the last part of the chapter is in Hermione's POV. Again, thanks for the support. :)
Enjoy!
Chapter 7 ~ Adapting to Doubts
Confrontation.
How Ron dreaded the day he would be confronted by the girl of his dreams, Hermione, alongside with her parents. He bit on the inside of his cheek as his palms got increasingly sweaty. He wished he didn't go with Dumbledore to find moonstones. He wished everything would return back to normal.
Ron paused for a moment, When was anything normal?
"Ronnie!" his mother gave him a big embrace, followed by his father. "Stop scaring us so much!"
"M'sorry, Mum, Dad," Ron apologized with a hint of uncomfortableness, his eyes wandered over to where his mother went over to.
"Oh, Hermione, dear," his mother gave her a hug as well. "I'm glad to see you're doing alright."
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," her cheeks were a tint of pink.
"Molly," the plump woman said to her. "Call me Molly."
Ron's heart fuzzed up at the sight of his mother and Hermione's interaction. His family was so accepting of Hermione. He knew that somehow he could have a chance with her. His fantasies were disrupted when Hermione's parents came to comfort their daughter.
"Hermione, my little muffin," Ron could hear his mother's soft words that were full of genuine relief. "You had us so worried."
"Mum, I'm fine," Hermione looked at the older version of herself. "I promise you and dad."
Hermione's dad spoke up, which made Ron wary, "You're lucky that we're off today. We would've canceled a lot of appointments."
Hermione looked down towards her palm, a sense of embarrassment cloaked her in a headlock. Ron felt absolutely horrible. He didn't mean any of this to happen. Everything was happening to so fast that he didn't realize the stares that were explicitly at him.
"So," Hermione's father talked to him in a low voice, "you're Ronald Weasley? The boy she's been writing about in her letters?"
The Weasley choked on his Adam apple, not rendering the gasp Hermione gave out. Hermione, The-Brightest-Witch-of-Her-Age, wrote about him to her parents? Ron felt like he was going to faint at any second. This all had to be a dream, but he didn't want to wake up from it. It felt amazing that he was somewhat relevant to Hermione. Maybe he really did have a chance after all.
"Dad!" Hermione gasped. "W-why would you - Ron! I-"
"Winston," her mother growled at him, with sharp eyes. "Did you really have to?"
"Yes, Linda," he reprimanded. "Why would the boy in her letters harm her? She wrote so much about him, and there he is causing a mess towards our daughter!"
Hermione's brown eyes snapped towards the identical pair of eye color, "Dad, he didn't harm me. It was Draco Malfoy."
Ron's blood boiled at the mention of the pureblood fanatic himself. If it weren't for the Slytherin and his cronies jumping on them at the alley at Hogsmeade, Ron was sure he could've kept everything in, and explain formally to Hermione about his current situation. His mind replayed when he witnessed Hermione being thrown to the ground. He could feel her staring at him clenching and unclenching his fists.
"Sometimes, I don't know why I agreed with you going to Hogwarts," her father admitted. "This unsafe environment has harmed you countless of times."
"Hogwarts is my second home!" Hermione exclaimed without hesitation. "It's brought me nothing but opportunities. Opportunities I know I can't find in the muggle world."
"We understand, Hermione, but your father and I are constantly on the edge of our seats," her mother's words dripped with truth. "Ever since your stunt in your first year, we've been so anxious."
"I'm sorry, mum, dad," Hermione whispered. "I understand, but I belong here at Hogwarts. Ron, Harry, and Ginny have been nothing but supportive. I love every moment I get to spend here with them."
"Mostly me," Ron wiggled his eyebrows suggestively with a grin.
Hermione gave him a genuine chuckle, "Don't push it, Ronald."
The parents of the two teenagers watched the interaction between the two. The Weasleys tried hiding their smile as well as Hermione's mother. Her father eventually gave in a gave a small smile.
"If you're happy, muffin," Hermione's father gave her an understanding look, "I won't hold you back."
Hermione beamed at him, "Thank you."
The family of brunettes was locked in a tight group hug which made a smile sneak on Ron's face, but he felt the familiar pang he'd felt ever since Ginny stood out even more to their parents. Ginny always got hugs from their parents for anything. He'd always stand there, wishing he could be loved as much as Ginny. His thoughts drifted to the numerous of times his mother would hug Ginny after her mother day's gifts.
He remembered it vividly.
"Happy Mother's Day!" a chubby redhead beamed towards her mother who sat on their old couch.
He held up a drawing of a scribble of him and his mother holding hands at the meadow near the Burrow. He held it with pride, hoping that his mother would approve of it. He took so much time on the flowers that he didn't even notice how fast time could fly.
His plump mother gave him the same broad smile, "Ronald, this is beautiful!"
The child opened his arms, expecting a hug from his mother any moment. When he felt nothing but the warm breeze of an afternoon spring, he opened his eyes to only be met with his little sister giving their mother a flower crown from the meadow he drew.
"Ginny," the mother gasped, her eyes glistening at astonishment. "This is… beautiful!"
Ron looked at them. Tears managed to sneak their way out without him even noticing. He took steps back, running up the flights of stairs to slam his door shut. He cried into his pillow, not giving a care of the ghoul in his room.
Before he could wander into more of his dark thoughts that seemed to grow a little each day, he was caught in a big hug from his parents.
It was moments like these in where Ron felt at home. The embrace of his parents reminded him how his innocence, along with his best friends, were robbed quickly away due to the impending threats that are out there. His smiled broadly, not wanting his mind to wander off towards that territory. How he wished he could live in this moment forever.
"We should be angry with you, Ronald," Ron's head snapped towards Hermione's father, "but you've been there for my daughter. I can tell you wouldn't do that intentionally.
Ron breathed out in relief, feeling his ears heat up, but her father wasn't finished just yet, "Though, that doesn't give you an excuse for you to go barbaric at her for any reason. A drop of blood on you, and you'll get a reckoning."
Ron eyed him with confidence, "I promise you and Mrs. Granger that I would never harm her because of my power."
He eyed the ginger carefully, but he looked satisfied with his answer, "Keep that promise 'til your last breath, son.
- RWHG -
When they said their farewells to their parents, it left the both of them together. It was a perfect opportunity to tell her almost everything. Ron was still reluctant with what he wanted to share with her. What better place to discuss matters such as his would be at the library.
The both of them sat at the corner of the library; their usual spot where they studied.
Ron looked towards the embroidered carpet beneath them. He was anticipating her reaction towards the whole mate thing. He was so new to this, so he hoped to Merlin that Hermione would at least have some general knowledge about it.
Who am I fooling? Of course, she has a general knowledge of werewolves, Ron smiled at the thought of how brilliant Hermione truly was.
"So," Hermione cleared her throat, "I'm your mate?"
They both were tomatoes at the upbringing if his recent revelation.
"Madam Pomfrey said so," he replied, clearly nervous.
"Oh," was all that left from her lips.
Ron didn't know how long they sat there. He really didn't want to know. The silence that drifted upon them made him sweat like hell. He wasn't one to express his emotions. They were usually balled up in a cluster of a mess he couldn't even decipher.
Ron looked up at her, "I'm sorry I got you into this mess, Hermione."
"Why are you sorry?" she responded softly.
Ron's eyes pierced her's, "I dunno, I feel like I'm putting even more stress towards you."
"Oh, shut it, you've already placed too much stress on me," he caught the queasy look on her face. "Honestly, Ronald, did you give a single thought at how worried I was? I'm not just an emotionless, annoying bookworm who doesn't care for her best friends. Especially, when that best friend is acting so suspicious, you research the whole library to see what's wrong with them."
Ron sat there in utter silence, giving Hermione some time to let out all her fume. The blast of information fired at him made him even more guilty as if he wasn't already at this point. He hung his head low, thoughts swarming like a colony of cornish pixies. He couldn't bear to see Hermione like this, knowing that he was the one who caused this. Of course, he thought about the outcomes, but he was left with heartache. Maybe the heartache was worth it, but why did he still feel the empty hole?
"Then," she snapped him out of his thoughts, "you have the guts to say that I'm your mate! Are you serious, Ronald Weasley? You can't possibly be serious. Being the mate of a werewolf is so significant that it could be life-threatening; you should get a second opinion from Madam Pomfrey. I-"
"Hermione," Ron cut her off, looking at her with sincerity, "you're my mate."
"Impossible," she scoffed.
Ron's brows furrowed, "I'm bloody serious, Hermione."
"How do you know?" she continued her glare towards the redhead.
"Y-you make me feel, uh, weird," he responded sheepishly.
Hermione looked at him questioningly. Ron wanted to hit himself so badly to the point he would beat himself to a pulp. His usage of words when it came to a vague topic to him was pitiful. Ron's ears were an alarmingly shade of scarlet, and the same could be said about his whole freckled face. He wished he could borrow himself underground from further embarrassing himself.
"Really?" she whispered in an inaudible volume.
Ron gulped, "Uh, yeah."
He hated the awkward silence. Making Hermione Granger herself speechless was unheard of. How did Ronald Weasley pull off the impossible?
Ron cleared his throat, "So, you write about me to your parents?"
It took her off guard that it almost made her fall off from her chair, "I can explain!"
Ron sat back, waiting for a response from her with a little grin.
"Ever since first year, I've been sending letters to my parents about you because," she looked down with sorrow, letting her voice go softer as each word was spoken, "of what you said after Charms."
His whole demeanor change with a flick of a spell. His smug grin was completely wiped off his pale face. He should've known that was the reason why it started. He looked at how her arms were crossed in a protective manner. His eyes softened at the sight, hating how she looked as vulnerable as she did when she was at the Hospital Wing recovering. Hermione rarely lets her guard down for anyone.
"You might not realize this, Ron," Hermione spoke his name in a small voice, "but it harmed me so much because I thought that I could make friends here."
She tried to put on a small smile, "I really thought that if I went here, I'd make friends with people who were just like me."
The brunette bit her lower lip, unshed tears glistened under them from the glass stained window.
In that specific moment, Ron went up to her. He didn't know where this rush of courage came from, but he would soon thank it later. He scooped her into his strong, lanky arms, taking her by surprise. At first, she seemed hesitant to return the embrace, but she gave in.
"I'm so fucking sorry, 'Mione," Ron held onto her securely.
She would've scolded him for his language, but she begged to differ. Under the morning sun, they embraced, wanting their demons to go away.
"Ron?" they broke from each other. "Hermione?"
They turned to face Harry's flabbergasted face, both blushing as if they were toddlers who were caught for stealing from the cookie jar.
"You're a werewolf," Harry looked directly at Ron, pale as ever. "You didn't tell me?"
"Harry-" Ron spoke out.
"I'll leave you two be to snog amongst yourselves," the teen with unkempt raven black hair hissed at them, leaving them frozen in place.
- RWHG -
Ron had a pretty busy week ahead for him. It was two days before their first meeting with Dumbledore's Army. He hoped that Angelina could reform the quidditch team after hearing multiple rumors that Umbridge would disband all school groups. Not to mention that he'd been making sure that he was drinking Wolfsbane. He wanted to be certain he wouldn't transform next week. Madam Pomfrey was happy that he was able to not transform for two months in a row without any difficulties. Usually, a week before the full moon, those with lycanthropy would be expected to feel immense discomfort, fevers, muscle aches, and more before they transformed. He was hoping that he could go for three months in a row without any of that.
Hermione was surprisingly, to him, aiding him with his other side even though he still hadn't told her how it all started. Their conversation at the library died out as soon as Harry barged in. Despite it, they'd read together about how hormonal changes was a main factor in causing adolescents with lycanthropy to act abnormally. During their findings on their break period, they couldn't help but blush. The only thing that they haven't read up on was the topic about mates.
"Merlin, can you imagine me eating raw meat?" Ron grumbled as he skimmed over the notes Hermione had professionally scribbled down.
Hermione smiled a bit, "I hope that helps with that abyss of a stomach you have."
"Very funny, 'Mione," Ron playfully rolled his eyes.
She chuckled briefly, only to realize that he said that nickname again, "'Mione, huh?"
He blushed, "It rolls off nicely, y'know."
She smiled approvingly, "Clever."
The atmosphere was way better than it was back at the Hospital Wing, but Ron still couldn't move on from the confrontation. He never would. The way his heart started to feel under pressure at how Hermione looked. His guts started to churn, maybe giving him a sign that he really did do something to her. When they were discharged and said their farewells to their parents, Ron felt like he lost the ability to breathe around her. Sure, it's happened countless of times to him, but it felt different.
He'd ask Hermione if he did anything to her, but she denied everything. The way her eyes flashed with sorrow gave it away that she was lying, but Ron left it there. He didn't want to bug her anymore because of him.
Before they could continue on their findings, they already heard a magnitude of students being dismissed from their classes. Ron sighed out with disappointment, letting Hermione pack all of their notes in a folder to be placed away in her satchel.
When they exited out of the library, Ron felt a sharp pain from where he was infected which was located at his back. Ron still hadn't told Hermione how he got infected, but he promised her someday he would explain it to her. He didn't want to overload her with information. Speaking of confessing to his revelation, his thoughts drifted to how hurt Harry was.
"Hey, 'Mione," he spoke her name in a small voice. "Do you think Harry will, you know, come around? He hasn't talked to me at all ever since the incident."
Hermione looked at him with a reassuring smile, "Of course. Don't you remember how you shunned him during the Triwizard Tournament, but you reconciled with him?"
Ron grimaced at the memory, "Right."
He hated how even he hid his secret from his best mate. His eyes were a little unfocused at how he must be feeling right now. Harry and he would tell each other secrets with jokes and laughter to pass around. He remembered the time he slipped at how he fancied Hermione to Harry without even knowing. Ron could trust Harry with his feelings towards Hermione, but why couldn't he tell him about him being a werewolf? What was so hard to admit to your best friend for five years that you're a beast?
Ron wished he could ponder upon his thoughts, but he was struck with a sharp pain in his back. He froze in place, trying to hide his displeasure in front of Hermione. He started to feel his lungs construct, just like the way he felt when he looked at Hermione's weak body.
"Hey, I need to use the loo," Ron whispered over to Hermione, trying to hide the pain in his voice.
"Be quick," she gave him a look of concern. "I don't want you running late."
"Of course," he gave her a lopsided grin despite how his whole body hated him at the moment.
He ran towards the prefect bathroom like his life depended on it, thanking Merlin that no one was there. Ron looked at himself in the newly polished mirror. Upon further inspection, he looked normal. Then, he looked down to see little claws forming. He slurred profanities under his breath. If only Hermione was here with him, maybe she would be able to help him out.
Ron vigorously washed his face with freezing, cold water, only to be greeted with yellow eyes looking back at him.
No, no, no! he was in hysterics.
Ron didn't want to be overtaken by something he couldn't control yet, so he tried to calm himself down with deep breaths; it didn't work. He tried washing his face with the cold water again. It still didn't work.
After his failed attempts, he let his mind wander to Hermione. He felt safe around her, so of course, she would be the one to think about at this very moment. What he didn't expect was the pain to come back at full force.
Why the hell did it have to return when I started to think about Hermione? he questioned himself.
He groaned out and cried in anguish, feeling the pain spread around him like wildfire. Ron tried fighting the fog that started to consume him. He fought with all his might, only to be dominated by his other self - the unknown.
- RWHG -
Hermione couldn't help but wait around the corner, waiting for Ron to exit out of the loo. She knew that if she waited for an excessive amount of time, she'd be tardy. Prim and proper, goody-two-shoes Hermione Granger would be breaking the rules. If she was willing to break those rules for Ron, she knew it would be worth it. She'd do anything to make sure he was safe. Especially, at the thought at what he's been through during those two months.
The bright witch tried intaking the information from his recent revelation. All this time for two months, Ronald Weasley was a werewolf. At first, she felt betrayed that he kept her in the shadows for this long. Not only her but Harry and his siblings. That emotion was replaced with understanding. She had observed Ron for five years, and she had a good idea of his flaws and strengths. Now she was left with a mix of emotions towards the turn of events that she was his mate.
Hermione realized that her puppy love for Ron was more than that when he comforted her during Buckbeak's execution. The way his strong arms supported her petite body made her feel secure. It happened again when they embraced in the library when they were discharged from the Hospital Wing. She blushed furiously at the thought.
Snap out of it, Hermione, she tried to pull herself from thinking excessively about her feelings towards a certain Weasley. You just like him… as a friend.
As she was left to her thoughts, the footsteps started to die down. Her heart started to accelerate, even more, realizing that Ron wasn't out of the loo. Looking back and forth, she saw Filch along with his stingy cat, Mrs. Norris.
Her eyes widened with worry, What if she can sense where Ron is.
That's when she started to zoom out of their way. Without a care, she rushed into the boys' restroom to be greeted with Ron cowering at the corner near the sinks. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight, leaving her to cease from going towards him.
The brunette could hear him mumbling to himself.
Why hasn't he recognized that I'm here yet? Hermione stood there puzzled.
She looked around the room, not allowing any of her muscles to move. She was scared to death that if she made even the slightest of movement or sound, it would give her away. Ron's worn out satchel was thrown carelessly near him, his messy notes were shattered on the cool tiles. Hermione felt so sorry for him. She felt so much anguish, knowing that she could've helped him since the beginning of his lycanthropy.
Hermione was still displeased at how Ron kept it a secret. It hurt so much to her. Didn't he know that she could've helped him?
A loud mumble broke her from her thoughts.
"Her…" Hermione heard him chant it repeatedly.
She was almost positive that he was referring to her. Taking a chance, she started to warily approach him with slow, attentive footsteps. She didn't trust Ron's other side, so her eyes never left his fidgeting figure. After their first encounter at the alleyway, she kept on getting nightmares about it. She kept her nightmares from Ron, not wanting to damage him even more. She remembered how he was struggling to gain control again back at the alley. He kept on grunting, tripping over himself, and taking pregnant pauses when his cold, eerie yellow eyes stared her down.
"R-Ron?" her voice shook with caution.
His neck snapped to the source of the noise. She gasped, placing her palm over her agape mouth. His eyes were the same pair of unfamiliar, calculating yellow slits. Even if this was her second encounter with this side of Ron, she hated it. She grew so familiar with Ron's comforting, coherent crystal blue eyes that seemed to only grow more pigmented and brighter by day a little at a time.
She was expecting him to make a move, but he just stared at her. She hoped he was trying to take control again. Hermione could see how his eyes glistened with perplexity. She felt her heart crying out at the sight, unshed tears came knocking on her door. Ronald Weasley, the stubborn, immature, and hot-tempered teen who was also the most loyal, funniest, and courageous person Hermione ever had the chance to meet was lost. Without any doubt, she wrapped her arms around his neck, trying to recreate the embrace they had a couple of days ago, and the hug they shared at the gloomy alley.
"I've got you," she whispered softly in his ears. "I'm here."
What happened next took her off guard. Her left arm was held in a tight fist. She gasped in surprise, her brain slowly registering the stinging sensation. She shouldn't have let her guard down. Her eyes slowly moved over to Ron's dim colored iris.
This wasn't the Ron she knew and played the risky game of love with.
A/N: Okay, so this chapter was split into two because I wrote so much. The chapter was going to be 7k word. Yeah, I know! That means that the next chapter has already been typed up, but I still need to edit and revise it. I feel so on top of my game lately! Expect the upcoming chapters to be full of angst (how lovely).
Also, have you guys been tuning in the Harry Potter Weekend Marathon? I tried to contain my inner fangirl whenever there was a Romione moment, but I failed unsurprisingly. Even though the movie adaptation is AMAZING, they failed at depicting Ron's character, but not entirely to the point he's unrecognizable. I mean, don't get me wrong, Rupert is an amazing Ronald Weasley and actor, but the way they made him seem like a comic relief kind of pisses me off. The Ron we know is WAY more than that. Okay, enough of me ranting! I hope you guys have a great day, and I'll be seeing you guys VERY soon. :)