"Sickle for your thoughts?"
Hermione was sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, staring unseeingly out at the slowly darkening horizon. They were at the Burrow for dinner, and Hermione had slipped away before desert, quietly, so as to avoid being noticed. Ron had seen of course, and he'd given her some time on her own, but he judged that some company wouldn't go astray either.
He of all people understood that being left with your own thoughts for too long could be painful and dangerous, and there was no way he was going to watch Hermione wrestle with hers without attempting to help her as much as he could.
Startled, she turned around, reflexively drawing her wand. Ron held up his hands in surrender, and upon realising it was him, Hermione relaxed, her shoulders sagging into a posture that looked alarmingly like defeat.
"Oh…Ron, I'm so glad it's only you. I thought it was…well, I don't know what I thought, I was just being silly, I suppose." She laughed uneasily, and Ron was unconvinced by her false bravado, lowering himself down next to her and putting an arm around her shoulders.
He half expected her to flinch or pull away or look at him in disgust, and he still felt nervous and slightly queasy whenever he initiated contact with her, although she was never anything except happy to receive it.
"You weren't being silly, but you were avoiding my question. Two sickles for your thoughts?"
"Honestly Ron, I'm fine!"
"Sure. Three sickles?"
"You're not going to give up, are you?"
"Four sickles?"
"Okay, okay! I – there's different things, really, I don't even know how or where to start…"
"How about whatever's bothering you most?" Ron prompted.
"Good idea, but don't – don't be annoyed at me. I feel silly complaining about anything at all, when what I'm going through is nothing compared to what you and your family have lost. I mean Fred, Fred was important to me too, but I didn't live with him, grow up with him, or know him in the ways you do, and I can't miss him in the same way either."
Hearing Fred's name still hurt as much as it had in the days following the war, even now, almost six months later, and Ron had to take a deep breath and wipe his eyes before he answered her. It would be so easy to get lost in his own grief all over again, and if he wasn't determined to help Hermione, he probably would have.
"You were just as much a part of the war as everyone else, and you have just as much right – if not more –than everyone else to grieve or be angry or whatever it is you are, and to express it."
A small, grateful smile appeared on her lips. "Thanks Ron… It's – there's this sense of everything being wrong, somehow. We won the war, I know that, and that's great, but we lost so much, and the whole world is so different now. I- I miss my parents, and every day they're in Australia, I worry a little more. They're safer there, and we have to wait until all the Death Eaters have definitely been rounded up before we can get them, which should probably reassure me… And I feel like I've said the same things over and over again, and if I'm even getting sick of myself saying them, I can't imagine what you or Harry or Ginny must think!"
Ron loved the way she said "we" without even thinking about it, as though the fact that they would go to Australia to get her parents, that they would now do everything together, was a given, and it gave Ron faith in the two of them, and their future.
"I think we've all said the same things to different people at different times, Hermione. That's because these wounds won't heal easily, they'll take time, and if that means we have to listen to each other laugh or cry or shout over the same things a hundred times, then we'll do it…But that's not all. There's something else, isn't there?"
"I feel…stuck. Like my life's not going anywhere, and some days I feel…everything. I feel so much, and I don't – I'm not actually living anything, I'm just trying to get through the current moment by hoping that something better will be around the corner, and I can't do that all the time! Maybe things do get better, but there are these periods in between that are just lost, and I'm never going to get that time back."
"The trick is to enjoy life. Don't waste away your days wishing for better ones ahead," said Ron sagely.
Hermione looked at him with renewed respect and some surprise, and smiled.
"What?" Ron asked, noticing her expression. "I reckon we can all be a bit philosophical sometimes, and we don't all have to be brainiacs like Hermione Granger." He worried briefly that she might have taken him seriously, but she just rolled her eyes good naturedly and snuggled more deeply into his chest, resting her head on his shoulder.
It was one of the many things he liked about them being in a relationship now, rather than the unsure friendship they'd struggled to maintain before. He could poke fun at her, and she at him, without it turning into a huge argument where they both shouted until they were red in the face and ready to rip out each other's throats. They were more secure in their love for each other now, and it made their whole lives so much easier.
"Love you," Hermione said contentedly, playing with his fingers.
"Love you too."
Maybe they were sappy and overly romantic, but Ron wouldn't have it any other way. He kissed her forehead and closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy this rare moment of relaxation. He'd meant every word he'd said to Hermione; they'd all come a long way since the Battle, and it was remarkable. They were getting there, day by day, and it wasn't easy. There would be days, for all of them, when getting up seemed impossible, and they would want to lock themselves away and drown in memories and feelings and everything they couldn't control. Then there would be days when they could stand on their own two feet and bask in the brave new world that peace had given them, and just like he'd told Hermione, Ron would take them all, good and bad, and he wouldn't waste a second.
Written for:
The Inspirational Quotes Competition
The All Sorts of Love Competition (Canon Love)