~ Chapter 25 ~
In Ron We Trust
The sunshine warmed his skin as he stood looking over the familiar pond behind the Burrow. It was midsummer now and the promise of another hot afternoon had urged him to dress for the day in nothing but an old pair of cut-off Muggle jeans. He could feel the coolness of the new morning in the grass between his toes, and against his bare back a playful breeze blew lightly, breathing its last gasp before the heat of the afternoon drove it away. At least the peacefulness of this summer had given him enough time like this that he had finally tanned a bit, and he didn't have to worry about the harsh rays of the sun burning his pale skin.
But something else began to burn at his skin as he stood there, and all it did was cause him to grin like a madman. He felt something snake from both sides around his middle, but instead of looking down, he just closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of skin against skin--her bare arms soft and smooth around him, her legs against his, her bushy hair and her lips teasing at his back in a torturous mix of tickling and tingling.
That feeling was back again--the one that was so powerful and scary, and yet so tantalizing. But this time he wouldn't resist it any longer--they'd resisted long enough--he knew precisely how he wanted to make her feel, and--
"Ron?" she whispered.
Ron ignored how far away her voice sounded and made a low, throaty noise through his grin, then turned and growled, "C'mere." He twisted within the circle of her arms and reached his own around her, feeling her nearly-bare shoulders against his chest and her hair fluffing over his arm as he dove hungrily for her lips. The hot contact of skin against skin again was driving him mad...
"Ron--wake up. It's your turn," she said.
What??? Augh-- bloody hell--don't tell me it's not real--it has to be real! Come on, come on, come on...he wished, squeezing his eyelids together tighter as if that alone would grant his wish.
Without really wanting to know the truth, he realized he might as well find his voice and check. "Hermione--" he pleaded, "tell me you can see the water lilies blooming."
There was a long pause.
"What?" she asked, sounding completely dumbfounded.
Ron sighed audibly. Bugger--it's not bloody real, his mind told him in deep disappointment after hearing her voice.
"Damn!" Ron muttered aloud, finally realizing that not only was it just a dream, but he wasn't going to get to go back to sleep and finish it, either.
"You don't have be like that," she said. "I finished my time on watch, now it's your turn. You wanted me to wake you instead of setting Fred's watch to wake you," Hermione whispered.
Squinting and pushing himself up onto one elbow, Ron rubbed his eyes and didn't want to face how really far away he was from his idyllic dream. He was still stuck in Ireland, sleeping on a lumpy sofa, it was cold, and there might be dementors right outside the door, if not something worse.
Looking up, he thought he could see irritation on Hermione's face in the firelight as she leaned over him. And worse than all of those things put together, she still hates me-yeah, some good that dream's gonna do!"I know. It's just hard to wake up after two hours' sleep is all," Ron said.
"Well, I haven't had any yet. So are you awake enough now? Or do you need me to talk to you some more until you are?" Hermione asked.
'I'm up, I'm up," Ron said, perching on the edge of the sofa after throwing his feet to the floor. "You can go on to bed." Ron rubbed his face with his hands and shook his head, knowing that the point of having someone on watch should be to actually do something about a problem if it occurred. He glanced across the room at Valeria, who didn't appear exactly comfortable in the Full Body Bind they had decided to cast on her, but at least she was sleeping.
"All right," Hermione said, her arms crossed over her chest against the cold. But she didn't leave. She just stood there looking at him a moment before speaking in a softer voice. "Well--good night then."
Ron stood up to stretch his legs, just to make sure he'd stay awake. But once he was standing, the two of them were much too close for him to ignore it. The Undeniable Something was back--they were standing too close. I can't see it, I can't touch it, but there it is--and it's so bloody irritating when I know she doesn't even want me to touch her. I know you feel it too, Hermione--look at you. Why can't you see what that means? That doesn't happen with anyone else--just you--and me. Ergh--it's no use."Good night," Ron said dryly, fairly certain that he could never deal with just being friends when he knew that they could have, and had had, so much more. It seemed like such a terrible waste, and over what?
Hermione still didn't leave. "Is--your arm all right?"
"It's felt better, but I'll survive," Ron responded, the mention of his injury causing it to twinge sharply. He grabbed at the bandaged gash with his other hand.
"Oh. Okay," Hermione said, watching him carefully. "Good night."
What is she playing at here? "Er, good night--again." He looked down, still trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.
Hermione started to walk away, then quite suddenly reversed and turned back to Ron. Pushing herself up on tiptoes, she leaned forward to kiss him quickly at the corner of his mouth. The whole side of his face went warm and the rest of him suddenly shivered.
Hermione quickly turned and walked away toward the loft ladder, determinedly climbing the rungs without looking back.
Wondering briefly if he'd fallen asleep again and was still dreaming, Ron froze in place and closed his eyes, trying to decipher the meaning of what she'd done. He did, after all, see her kiss Harry goodbye at Kings Cross Station before they left for home last year. But it wasn't exactly like that, so maybe...a little voice inside of him was hoping with everything it had--then the miserable voice of reason broke in. Nah, what she did just now probably meant nothing--she's just glad that everyone's okay after the battle this morning. I reckon it did no good to show her how I felt , when tonight she wouldn't even let me kiss her. That was just her way of making friends again. But, damn--it's going to be hard to be friends when I've made such a complete idiot out of myself over her.Ron walked around the room a number of times, trying to stir the blood in his veins. He was worried about waking everyone when they needed their sleep; they all did indeed seem to be sleeping peacefully, even Fred. So he plopped himself back on the sofa, where it was still a bit warm from where he'd been sleeping earlier.
This isn't going to be easy--to stay awake, Ron thought. Sitting here in the dark, watching the firelight, knowing that everyone else is sleeping. And it's too bloody quiet...Ron began to think about their attempted departure in the morning with the Portkey. It certainly didn't sound very safe - and he wasn't at all pleased about Hermione taking the first group. What does she know about Portkeys? As bloody brilliant as she is, George and Fred are the ones with the most experience, even though Fred is in no condition to help anyone right now. George should take the first group.
After spending a while lost in his thoughts, Ron felt something fall into his hair. He reached up and pulled a piece of hay from it, looking curiously at the dried plant, then back at the loft, which would be the only logical place it could have come from. But the loft was too far away from where he sat for it to fall from there. Curious--but then, what wasn't in this place?
Shrugging his shoulders at no one, he flicked the hay straw onto the ground and started watching the fire once more.
Several minutes passed before he felt something else descend upon his hair, heavier this time. But sure enough, it was more hay. He picked the loose clump from his hair and threw it to the floor. Squinting up at the loft, Ron wondered if Hermione would do such a thing just to irritate him. But she must be asleep by now--she acted so tired when she left . He decided to ignore it, but watched from the corner of his eye--very carefully.
Another wad of hay flew from the loft. This clump, the size of a small Bludger, must have been charmed because it floated over him in one piece. Before he could move out from under the ball, it dropped straight down, bursting upon impact with his head to scatter bits of hay all over him.
Ron quickly stood and shook himself off, then strode determinedly to the bottom of the loft ladder. Peering upward, he could see no indication that anyone was up there, unless hay-throwing pixies had invaded when he wasn't looking. He climbed just high enough so that his head and shoulders were above the level of the loft platform; Ron peered into the darkness, but he could see nothing.
"Hermione--what's your problem?" Ron whispered, a bit irritated.
There was no response from the darkness.
"Hermione, stop it. I know you threw it--and charmed it. I saw the last one fly out of here," Ron said insistently.
Still no response came from the darkness. Oh my god-what if it wasn't Hermione?
Suddenly Ron became worried. She'd just come up here just a short time ago, after all, and she wasn't answering him, maybe something else was up here with her and she was...
"Hermione? Are you all right?--Answer me, damn it!" he whispered angrily, yet getting more worried by the moment.
Ron was preparing to climb further up the ladder when her face appeared. She had crawled on hands and knees from the blackness into the light within several feet of him. But to come down to his level, she lowered herself onto her stomach directly in front of him and propped herself on her elbows just inches from his face.
She'd come so close so fast that he almost took a step back on reflex, but he caught himself in time, teetering and barely regaining his sense of balance on the ladder. He had to keep reminding himself that he'd better hold on tight and stay just where he was. How does she make me do things like that?
"First you get me all hacked off, and then--you scare me to death!" Ron complained in a loud whisper. "Very funny, Hermione! Middle of the night, we could have woke everybody up...gah--my heart's going to pound its way out of my chest..."
"Sshhh! You'll wake them up," she whispered softly, pushing herself even closer to him.
Ron noticed that his heart was still making a valiant attempt to pound its way out of his chest, but for an altogether different reason now. "Yeah, well it's your fault if they--" She's leaning closer... "--if they..." Is she doing what I think-- please, oh please...
Ron suddenly became so fascinated with her persistent gaze into his eyes that the words fell right out of his mouth. The only thing his mouth wanted to do now was anticipate the warm, sweet softness he'd been craving...he was aching for it, his senses could almost reach out and touch her, but was she...?
Then...he felt Hermione press her mouth against his ever so gently, so slowly--he closed his eyes and felt the tingling race the length of his body for what must have been one hundred circuits in a row. As badly as he wanted to reach out to hold her, he couldn't let go of the ladder and risk falling. She tenderly moved her mouth over his, stopping momentarily to change position a bit, her breath tickling at his damp lips for the few seconds they were apart. He looked into her eyes at that moment--Hermione, this time you know exactly what you're doing to me ...just ...do it some more...This was torture--sheer, exquisite torture, and he would be her captive as long as she would have him--or until he fell off the ladder, whichever came first.
"Come on," she breathed as the shivers made one final route through his body. She finally pulled herself away from the edge to make room for him to climb onto the loft platform.
Ron realized he had no idea what had changed her mind about him, but he didn't give a Hippogriff's arse about reasoning right now. It simply didn't matter, and she wouldn't need to ask him twice.
He climbed the last few rungs and scrambled to his knees on the platform. But in the process, he kicked his foot straight and connected with the ladder. Turning as he felt it, he saw the ladder start to lean and fall from the front edge of the loft. He swung around rapidly and dove onto his stomach to grab at it, barely catching it with his fingertips before it toppled and fell crashing to the floor below.
The two of them froze in place, listening and holding their breath to see if all of the noise that Ron had made in saving the ladder had awakened anyone. But all they heard was twin snores and the even breathing of sleep.
Ron let out a long sigh of relief as Hermione giggled at him quietly behind her hand. He held the ladder in place until he could inch up on his knees and make sure it was balanced. He released it and turned around, kneeling, to face her. Had the loft been tall enough to give clearance for his head he would have stood straight, but he'd already tried that several times and none of his attemtps had ended well...
From the darkness, he saw her beckon him, waving him towards the back of the loft. Ron crawled through the straw on hands and knees behind her, back to the corner where she'd stacked the extra blankets. The dim light from the fire below showed that she had already created her makeshift bed of blankets and straw and the rumpled blanket on the bottom was evidence that she'd been laying down earlier.
But she didn't go as far as the bed. Stopping several feet before the stack of old blankets, she turned to face him, sitting cross-legged on the floor.
Ron, still crawling, kept moving closer. He leaned in to continue what he thought she had started while he was on the ladder. His lips met hers in what he intended to be a longer kiss, but she quickly ended it and pulled away from him.
"You know, I think we need to talk," Hermione said hesitantly.
Ron groaned to himself and dropped his head into the blankets next to him. We finally have things all straightened out, and now she wants to -- talk? Ergh. He rolled over and sat up, leaning back against the stack and hanging his arms over his bent knees as he pushed his legs out in front of him. What good is talking going to do, Hermione? You're not angry any more, you showed me you're not. I'm not angry, I showed you I wasn't--I would have shown you more if you woulda let me...Okay, Weasley, but you're playing by her rules now. If this is what it takes to make her happy, this is what you'll do. He made a lame attempt to put on an open and eager expression to prepare for 'the talk'.
"I had you come up here so that we wouldn't wake anyone up. But I couldn't sleep or try the Portkey tomorrow without telling you something, just in case..." She frowned for a brief moment, then he could tell she was pushing a thought from her mind to continue. "Ron, I--I should have known," Hermione started. She looked across at him and smiled shyly.
"What?" Ron asked, confused.
"I should have realized you were just trying to help Valeria. Well, I did know that, really. But it didn't feel like that's all it was. You were so--nice to her--and you took care of her, and you always talked with her about how to help herself."
"But I did that because I was the only one who could really help her, not because of--anything else," Ron replied.
"I know that--now. She...she told me."
"She told you?" Aha- so that's what Valeria and Hermione were talking about when I came in earlier with the water buckets. But, what exactly had Valeria told her?"She said you talked to her about it yesterday--when you were coming down from the hill after she took Harry. She said that for some reason you started babbling on like you were nervous about how you had some friends who were girls. Then she asked if you had a girlfriend."
Ron quietly cleared his throat--he was worried and embarrassed, feeling that Hermione could even see him blushing in the near-dark. His legs were bouncing nervously. "Yeah?"
"She told me you said "erm" or "Herm", but she couldn't tell which, so she asked you again, and then-- you wouldn't say anything."
Hermione was getting the same response from Ron that Valeria did at that point. Curse my tongue! I swear I am never, ever speaking a single word again. Newsflash: taking an oath of silence, Ron Weasley finds that he never gets himself into trouble with his mouth again...
"She told me that she kissed you," Hermione went on matter-of-factly.
Ron's mouth dropped open, his face and ears went deep crimson, and he looked as if he might pass out there on the spot. Uh-oh--you'd better say something about that or you're dead! So much for swearing yourself to silence. Purposely and noticeably taking several deep breaths before being able to speak, he finally stuttered, "Er, er, er...yeah, but--but on the cheek--it was nothing. I didn't know she was going to do it, Hermione. Don't think it meant--"
"It's okay--she told me the rest, too."
Ron winced miserably. What did she say? God, the power girls have over this subject is completely terrifying! "What-- 'rest'?"
"That she-- sort of wished you would have reacted differently," Hermione said with some difficulty. "She was wishing that you would have kissed her back--only, you know--really kissed her."
Once Ron got his lower jaw to cooperate and come to meet his upper jaw, it all tumbled out quickly. "But I didn't want to--it wouldn't have made sense. It didn't feel like anything--not like with--" Ron stopped abruptly, realizing how much he had actually blurted out in his rush to overcompensate for being 'caught'.
She smiled shyly. "She told me that, too." But Hermione was blushing furiously by now as well.
Ron groaned and slapped a hand over his eyes. God, throw me to the dementors--now!!!
"No, it was-- a good thing," Hermione said, responding to his gesture. "Well, I thought so. She said she reckons she'll have to find someone like you--well, maybe a little older--because you already feel too strongly about-- well, someone. She can tell. Valeria said that now she can see it in everything you do. Then she told me how really lucky I am." She looked down at her hands in her lap, unable to go on.
It isn't like I've done that much kissing at all--figures that any I've been involved with would be with two girls who feel the need to analyze it together afterwards. Why couldn't I be one of those blokes who get away with kissing twenty different girls who never speak to each other for the rest of time?that--you git!!
Because, Weasley, you idiot, even if you made it through all twenty of the other girls, kissing them would never be as right as it is with Hermione every --single --time. Tell her
Ron took a deep breath. They put you in Gryffindor, Weasley--pretend you feel brave. "You know--she's right--I mean, about--you."
Hermione took a deep shuddering breath, just to let it out again. "I shouldn't have been so hard on you."
"You didn't know. I kept trying to tell you, but--I'm not very good at this stuff," Ron admitted.
"It's okay. I--"
I think I can do this without being connected. I know I can...Come on, Weasley-- bring out that smooth-talking devil you are inside...you can do it... "I wanted to tell you this before. I even practiced it in my head. Okay, here goes." Ron took a deep breath and began. "Valeria needs me to get her through this--to get her to the good side--to get her life back for her. But I can't do it--"
"What?" Hermione interrupted in shock. "No. it's okay now--I understand--I don't mind. You need to do this for her--"
"Let me get this out, Hermione!" Ron blurted in exasperation. He took another deep breath, feeling it catch in his throat, and he couldn't look at her as he spoke. "I am going to help her. But what I was going to say is-- just like she needs my help to get her through this--I--need you. I won't make it to help anyone else unless-- well, you're the one that I need." Ron let out a great sigh when he finished, happy and proud to have finally told her, but still worried at what she thought of it.
All he had to do was look at her.
At his words, her eyes had begun to glisten especially brightly in the darkness.
"Ron, ..." Hermione started. The words died on her lips when their eyes met and locked.
The reflected firelight made a warm but dim glow around her. He wanted to say it better, to tell her more, to make her understand.
But those eyes...God, it seemed so long since she'd looked at him like that. And she was smiling--it was his smile--bloody hell, where had it been? He knew it had only been days, but it hurt like it had gone missing for years. Trying to find the words in his head to fix everything that seemed broken between them, he struggled with himself pointlessly. They watched one another, breathing hard--any words that Ron ever knew were gone.
Then he saw it-- she made the tiniest movement -- barely perceptible, but to Ron it could have moved the earth. She was reaching for him. She wanted him.It was all he needed.
Ron reached out before him, grabbing her hand and pulling at her gently, yet insistently, tugging at her arm until she reached around his shoulders. Circling her waist with his other arm, he easily lifted her toward him. He reached his fingers carefully behind her head, tangling them through her hair and pulling her face towards his, holding her cheek gently yet firmly beside his own. Feeling Hermione's arms curl tightly around his neck, Ron leaned back, pulling her over on top of him. Somehow her weight on him made her feel more real to him, more alive--she filled his arms with warmth and substance and he felt like her pressure on his pounding heart made it work harder to give her more. Just to lie there like that forever might have been enough...
...Until she lifted her head to look down into his eyes. He could feel her chest moving against his with her deep, fast breathing. Her hair hung down around his face, tickling softly against his cheek and his chin. Her eyes reached deep into his to tell him what she wanted him to know. And at that point --nothing, nothing could stop the inevitable.
As lightly as a feather falling, Hermione let her lips touch Ron's, brushing slightly from side to side as she continued to stare into his eyes. Except for her kiss on the ladder, he had never felt anything quite so excruciatingly wonderful and he only managed to enjoy it quietly for a minute before he groaned in sheer impatience. He had wanted to hold her and show her how much he cared about her first, but now he needed to show her how much she was wanted.
Rolling Hermione onto the blankets at his side, Ron's urgent kiss took over this time; he surrounded her with himself as she clung to him. He knew he was crushing her to him, but she didn't seem to care. Ron couldn't hold her close enough or find ways to kiss her deep enough, but he refused to give up trying.
Looking into her eyes, he could tell that Hermione welcomed his attempts at both, her fingers wrapped through his hair as her other arm held tightly around him. Ron couldn't remember ever feeling hunger through his skin before, but he knew that was what he was feeling now. Wishing he could find some way, magically or otherwise, to absorb her into himself, he moved his hands through her hair, and along her arms and back recklessly.
Momentarily cursing himself for having the self-discipline to leave anything between them, he wanted nothing between him and her, nothing to divide them, nothing to separate them ever again. He kissed her deeply until he felt dizzy and faint; he stopped only when his body told him he'd black out if he didn't, and he'd be damned if he was going to miss one more second of her in his life.
Pulling away and breathing hard, he could still feel her warm breath on his lips. To stop then wasn't his intention, but he wanted permission to go on. It felt as if his very life depended on it.
"Can I?" he asked in a husky, almost demanding voice.
Hermione knew just what the question meant and answered by pulling his face down to hers. Not realizing what kind of fire her actions would cause in him, he could feel her smile against his mouth when he made a deep, almost desperate noise in his chest.
Though she had certainly given him permission, Ron wanted desperately not to frighten her like before. He could feel the immediate intensity of the telempathic connection, and even though he was the one controlling it, the emotions he was feeling were so strong he was fearful it would push one or both of them from consciousness. Just when he thought his body could not stand one more burning sensation-- the wondrous feeling of closeness, of bonding, of not knowing where she ended and he began, all poured in around them. All of a sudden, he didn't feel like the enemy any more: she knew him, felt him, wanted him with her. The connection told him that just as he couldn't satisfy the want of her, that she felt the same insatiable hunger for him. Still it wasn't just the heat between them now, but the breathtaking depth of the bond, the warmth that continued beyond, even when they weren't together...
Ron could feel himself kissing her, her kissing him, the connection making them one and the same in mind, spirit, and soul. Only one other intimate way could make it more perfect, but this was more than enough to manage for now. It wasn't yet time to make it complete...and they both, together, discovered that they knew this.
*You know what this means?* Ron thought to her.
* We can't lie to each other when we're connected. So this is what's real between us--this is what's honest. You know, it's been so long that we've been trying to let each other know, and I wasn't sure if it was ever going--*
*I meant it when I said I never want to hurt you.*
*I know--I know that now.*
*It would be stupid, anyway. It can't be like this with anyone else--it just can't.*
*I know. We're supposed to be like this. From that day after the troll, and you smiled at me, and then even in second year there were times that I thought you wanted to let me know, but you never said anything I could be sure of, and I was so hoping that I was right, that you liked me, and then third year we--*
*Hermione?*
*Hmmm?*
*Shut up.* Ron pulled her to him again and she sighed, almost limp in his arms by now, but they were both deliriously happy, exhilarated, and so relieved they could finally share their feelings. As amazingly magnificent and wondrous as this feeling was, it was also just the two of them. And Ron knew then that was it was all they would ever need.
Still craving the feeling of her next to him, Ron refused to leave any space between them. Once more, he slid his hand lovingly down her back, but on its way up his long fingers tangled in the hem of her shirt, his palm firmly landing on bare skin at the small of her back. Both of them flinched at the sudden contact--Ron swiftly yanked his hand away and Hermione gasped.
*Ron, we'd better--* Hermione thought to him, breathing hard and looking earnestly into his face.
*Yeah--*
*Not because --maybe someday--*
*Erm--I know--* Ron said, still breathing hard and momentarily having to look away from her in embarrassment. Wait a minute--did you hear what she said? 'Someday'...Why are you embarrassed? She feels that way, too.
*Maybe you'd better move over there for now--or--I won't be responsible for what happens--* Ron's thought sounded serious and he indicated a space next to the wall that would keep her out of his arm's reach.
*Oh, all right,* Hermione thought resignedly. But she wouldn't move her arm out from under where it was pinned to the floor by his ribs.
The two of them were quiet for a minute, enjoying their closeness. Even their thoughts to each other had quieted.
*If we're this good together like this, just think--* Ron's mind brought up out of the blue. He hadn't meant to think it to her, but it just burst out. He blushed bright red and looked away when he did, but now that he had and it was out the open between them, their closeness and their feelings took over.
Slowly he found the courage to look at her again; the two of them stared into one another's eyes for a moment, imagining...
Suddenly, Hermione's eyes went wide, and as her gaze connected more deeply with his, Ron felt their heat start to rise in full force again.
*I'm moving! I'm moving!* Hermione thought. She struggled to pull her arm out from under his side and move away before anything else happened. It was then that they heard it.
"Ron!" came the urgent whisper. "Ron!! Where are you?"
Ron looked at Hermione, his eyes wide open in surprise and panic.
*It's Harry! His turn on watch? Already??* Ron thought to her. What's Harry going to think if he finds me up here? *Has it been that long?*
*Didn't seem like it,* Hermione whispered, shrugging.
Ron flung himself to his knees and scrambled toward the edge of the loft. Swinging his feet over the top rungs of the ladder, he hurriedly stepped down each one until--
Thunk!! Ron slipped on the third rung from the bottom and fell to the floor, landing loudly on his feet, but squarely in front of Harry.
Even though Harry hadn't been able to find him, he also hadn't been expecting Ron to appear from the loft and seemed mildly surprised by the way he 'dropped in'. But Ron could tell that Harry was somewhat more than mildly surprised by his appearance. Glancing down, Ron realized that his shirt was seriously rumpled, pulled crooked and tangled on his body. Ron reached up quickly to find, as he suspected, that his hair was embarrassingly full of hay and generally sticking up all over. He reached his other hand up to his earlobe, becoming somewhat relieved when he realized that any gently indented teeth marks that might have been there moments before had since disappeared.
Harry looked at his best friend with raised eyebrows, then his eyes swung to the loft.
"Er...we were-- talking something over," Ron whispered sheepishly.
Harry looked Ron over again. "Yeah, I-- see that."
There was a dreadfully long and painful silence where Ron was desperately afraid that Harry was going to say something, but he wasn't sure just what.
"Well, it's my turn to be on watch," Harry said quietly. "So you can go get some sleep."
A very familiar voice came to Ron's mind, startling him and making him jump. *It's pretty cold up here, but it might be warmer if you--well, if you're sure you only want to sleep...*
Did she mean...? Would she really...let me sleep there--next to her? Ron shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing. I must have heard it wrong--the power of wishful thinking, eh, Weasley? Ron sighed, realizing he was likely relegated to the sofa, but he looked longingly toward the loft, still hopeful.
Harry couldn't help but notice. "Not done with your, er-- talk, eh?" He paused. "Go ahead-- I won't say anything. Just-- don't make me think about it too much. And , hey--there are three conditions to my silence here."
Ron looked at Harry uneasily. He knew his best friend hadn't approved of his treatment of Hermione lately, even if Harry didn't know fully what was going on. "Yeah?"
"First, since I have to stay awake--I don't want to hear a sound," Harry started. "Second, don't even think about giving meany details tomorrow--"
Ron first accepted what he thought Harry was telling him at face value. Then something more occurred to him. Surely he doesn't think we're going to--
His eyes going wide at the chance that Harry might have thought that very thing, Ron pulled himself together enough to stammer, "Harry--not that. I won't--she won't---we won't..."
Ron's nervousness caused him to flinch again when the voice in his mind returned. *Tell Harry he's got a dirty mind.*
"Good," was Harry's somewhat relieved response to Ron. Harry furrowed his brow at Ron's jumpiness. "Why do you keep doing that?"
"Erm...the hay--it itches," Ron said, scratching his head and trying to look convincing. He was ever so glad Harry didn't pursue the matter, though.
"And third--" Harry paused.
Ron was really afraid of what could be coming now. He winced inside. "What?"
"You take good care of that heart that's waiting for you up there." It wasn't a request, it was an order, and Ron understood precisely why Harry would tell him so forcefully. The three of them all had a silent agreement to take care of one another, and that even included protecting them from each other, if necessary.
Ron gave Harry a warm, sincere, and understanding smile. "Yeah. I will." Ron turned slowly and quietly stepped to the bottom of the ladder. He looked back at Harry one more time, then began to climb.
Ron peered again into the darkness once he'd made his way onto the platform of the loft. He couldn't see or hear Hermione anywhere, and hadn't heard any mind-talking from her. She couldn't be--asleep--could she? I hope she's not, I hope she's not... He assumed she must be toward the back of the loft, where the light of the fire below couldn't find its way.
But as soon as he saw her, his hopes fell. He rolled over from hands and knees to sit down next to the pile of blankets again. Tonight had been quite a night already, but he'd been hoping it would go on forever.
Once there was enough light for his eyes to adjust and focus, Ron could see that Hermione looked totally lost to sleep. Completely reclined on the makeshift straw bed now, she was covered in several of the blankets they had knocked down together earlier. Her eyes were closed, and she was breathing evenly. He watched her, noting that she looked at once so young and yet so...
Hermione was so different now. It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to realize that she was a girl instead of just his 'other best friend'. Shifting his eyes to her again, he noticed that her curly hair gently curved around her chin to frame her face. Suddenly he was awed by the fact that someone who was as brave and pretty and brilliant as this girl-woman before him had been kissing him, and wanting him to kiss her, just a short time ago.
Perhaps it was better this way. Everything so far tonight had been reaction--pure, sweet simple impulse--emotion feeding into their minds and their bodies. But now--there was thought--how could he have been so bold to think that she would still...? Maybe she had taken a moment to think, and then went to sleep to spare his feelings...
What do I do now? It was too soon to go back down the ladder and face Harry. Certainly his and Hermione's 'talk' shouldn't be over this soon after all that he went through to get back up here. He would wait a few minutes, then go down and tell Harry they were through talking on his way to the lonely sofa...
"What are you doing?" he heard her whisper, startled from his thoughts.
Realizing that her eyes had fluttered open, he was suddenly uncertain what to do with himself. "I--I thought you fell asleep."
"No. I was just trying to get warm--and I was-- waiting."
Ron couldn't remember ever being in the room with her when she was in bed. Well, except for the hospital wing--and that didn't count. Neither did sitting up asleep in a freezing cave. But there she was-- looking pretty and inviting and so much 'his Hermione' in something that seemed like an actual bed bed. He felt his ears and more going hot--thank the heavens for the darkness.
For some reason, he suddenly felt like he was eight years old again, about to be caught somewhere that he wasn't allowed to be. "Maybe I should just go," he said. His mind thought it was what he should be saying, but his heart was resisting him all the way.
"Oh," she said, sounding very disappointed. He was surprised, yet pleased to see that she also looked quite sad.
Now he was even more confused. "I reckon you didn't expect me to really come back up here, so I'll--"
"I was actually--hoping you might. To sleep, of course." She was looking into his eyes-- he could tell, he could feel it-- even from partway across the loft. *I mean, I was actually--hoping you might.*
A slow grin moved across his face. He knew exactly why she'd repeated it in the connection within their minds--she couldn't lie about her feelings from there. She had wanted him to come back up here with her.
Without breaking her gaze into his eyes, she wriggled back closer to the wall to make space on the blanket for him.
As badly as parts of Ron wanted to jump at the chance to get into the makeshift bed with her, just as many parts of him were frozen in place, not even daring to consider it. He looked at her warily. *Is that--okay?* Ron asked weakly.
*Unless you were lying to Harry about what we were going to do up here,* she answered. *I mean, we're completely dressed, we're going to stay that way, and we're just going to sleep--right? Unless this feels wrong to you. It hasn't felt wrong to me so far.* She looked at his still-stunned expression and guessed at what he was thinking, since he'd been thinking to himself and she couldn't hear it. *They're just blankets on straw, you know.*
Getting under the covers in a bed with Hermione felt even more indecent than some of the ideas his mind thrust at him when they were--well-- together earlier. He already knew those were indecent, but he was rather used to those thoughts pushing into his mind by now. As long as he didn't act on them...but this was real! He couldn't even understand what was making him so shy all of a sudden, unless it was the totally intimidating thought that all of that beauty and brilliance wanted him--Ron Weasley-- next to her. On the other hand, she was right--he couldn't really see that they were going to do anything wrong. Yeah--they're just blankets--on straw. And I'm just going to lay down there. Who could blame me if I fell asleep? What could be wrong with that?Hermione had been waiting patiently for an answer. *Well, what do you think? Does it feel wrong?*
*Er,--well,-- no, not really, but...* he stammered, even in his mind.
*So, then--why not? Can't I trust you?* Hermione said meaningfully.
His cocky grin appeared at the double entendre--he knew she was talking about trusting him with more than her innocence. *I don't know--do you think can you trust me?*
In complete and utter seriousness, her eyes bore straight into his. *Yes. Absolutely.*
Ron knew he was going to have to ignore the bolts of electricity firing through his body if he went through with this. He could ignore them--he'd have to. He couldn't, he wouldn't leave her tonight. But he wouldn't betray that hard-earned trust either.
"Well?" she asked.
"Since you put it that way..." Ron said.
Ron pushed off his shoes and moved to the bed, crawling under the blankets beside her. His body responded immediately to the warmth emanating from the spot where she'd been laying as he scooted himself down farther underneath. Yet it still felt so strange to be there that he laid flat on his back staring at the ceiling, his arms stiff at his sides. He realized how tense he was as his wounded shoulder began to ache from the muscles being held so taut--luckily, it's on the side away from her, he thought.
But after a moment, he felt her warmth move closer to him. Her fingers found his and curled around them as she nuzzled her head into his other shoulder. It suddenly reminded Ron of a time long ago, huddled in a Charmless Carrel, just after he'd made two great strides in his life in one fell swoop. He remembered the moment he had unknowingly sent his first telempathic message--and that in the message he'd sent, he managed to tell his best friend Hermione Granger that he liked her.
*I'm glad you came back,* she thought to him.
*No doubt because of my great heat-making abilities, right?* Ron tried to think back to her smoothly, but it came out sounding jittery instead.
Hermione acted like she didn't want to think about that one too hard. *Erm--well, that, too. And I did want to tell you I was wrong about Valeria. But besides that, I really wanted someone here because...I don't know--it wouldn't feel good to be alone tonight.*
Ron quickly turned his head to look at her with concern. She was facing him as she laid on her side and the light was just enough for him to see the slightly worried expression on her face. *The dementors? Is that what's bothering you? Or--?*
*It's kind of--everything,* she sighed in her mind. *You know--the dementors, Voldemort coming after Harry, the Portkey not working, our having to use it when I'm not sure...*
Ron turned more to face her. *You're not sure? Well, then we won't use it. We can walk out.*
*But Fred-- I don't think he'll be able to, and I'm worried that we need to get him some help sooner than it'll be if we walk--* Hermione fretted.
*Hey--don't think that way. We'll be fine--we'll all be fine.* Ron was trying desperately to sound positive. He could feel her fears so strongly that they were starting to bother him, too.
*I guess I just needed somebody to tell me that,* Hermione thought to him meekly. *Trying to be strong all the time can make you so tired...*
Ron found himself remembering a lot about that night in the Charmless Carrel all of a sudden. He had wanted to hold her and make her feel protected on that night, too. But the difference was: on this night, he was going to do it.
Adjusting to fit his wide shoulders as he rolled on his side, Ron folded his arms around Hermione and pulled her close to him. It always amazed him how she fit so perfectly against him, her head tucked next to his cheek, his body conforming to hers. But now it was different than before--there was no fire within him asking him how long he had to wait to do those things with her. That urgency was gone for the time being.
This time there was just a warm sort of glow that surrounded them; this time they only needed the comfort of having each other and holding the world at bay. Ron remembered third year when Hermione threw herself into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. He couldn't understand why she needed him to hold her then--but he understood now. If only he could always protect her completely just by having the sheer will to do so...
After a few minutes, Ron brought up his earlier thoughts. *You know, I don't want you to go with the first Portkey, either. George and Fred are the experts--they should go and take Harry with them. You can stay here, then you and I can go together with Valeria--we'll be right behind them if they get through, remember?*
As worried as she seemed, Hermione insisted. * Ron, I did the Binding Spells and most of the Time Extension Spells. I've got to be the one to go.*
Now it was Ron's turn to sound worried. *But if anything happened to you...*
*It will be my own fault. That's my point.* Hermione paused for a long moment, thinking. *But--why did you say that?*
Ron was lost. *Why what?*
*Why don't you want me to go first then? Why does it matter to you?*
What is she getting at? *Because...* Uh-oh - ambushed. *You already know why.*
*What if I didn't?* she asked, being the slightest bit coy.
*But you do. Before, I let you feel how I feel when we were fighting the dementors, and the first time in the connection and just-- tonight.* What is it with girls and having to talk about feelings? Isn't feeling them good enough?
Hermione nodded slightly. *True--you did. But did you ever tell me, exactly?*
Ron leaned back from her a bit to try and look down into her face. Don't you already know how badly I do this? Don't make me, please...*Hermione--* he whined, feeling his whole head in a vibrant blush. He tried again. *But you can feel it, can't you? You can feel how I feel about you.*
Hermione nodded a little. *Yes, I can feel it. It's perfectly wonderful. And you can feel how I feel about you, can't you?*
*Yeah. I think.*
Hermione swallowed. She acted as if she was going to tell him something she never had before, and it was making them both nervous. *I think you already know that I...I think I lo--*
*Yeah--yeah, I know,* Ron broke in. The intensity of the moment was really becoming too much for him. He didn't think he would be able to stay here with her tonight if he actually heard what he thought was coming. He knew his excitement would overwhelm him and send him back to that lustful place he was trying so hard to ignore. It was amazing that she felt that way, but he just didn't have the means to handle it-- yet.
*But you've never ever told me how you feel. And girls-- need to hear it sometimes.*
*Girls? What girls? Forget the rest of the girls in the world. I'll never have to worry about that--because there'll always be just you. And you already know...* He continued to look down in her face, his eyebrows raised in the hope that what he'd said would be enough. Her eyes gazed up at him soulfully, sweetly, openly--she'd bared her soul to him and was waiting for him to take his turn. Bloody hell, he thought miserably, she wants more.Ron sighed. *All right--I'll try. Don't ever repeat back to me what I'm about to tell you, because I don't want to hear later how badly I've buggered this up.* He paused. *When you're not there, everything seems dark, and it's like there's no hope and it's so ...lonely. I used to be okay by myself before, but now if you're gone it's so bloody lonely. And --it's not just how you look, it's how you are--inside. I'm not even starting on how smart you are, and I--like you so much--well, it's more than that, it's--I'd die for you, Hermione, you know that, right?*
She seemed to have a bit of difficulty listening to him try and put his sentences together. The meaning of it all seemed fine with her, but was he saying...? *Yes. I think I do. So you-- like me, then? That's what it is?*
Thank the gods I'm still in the connection, or we wouldn't have made it this far. *I said it's more than that.*
* More?*
Go on--try it. You know you feel it, you just have to say it--not even that--you only have to think it to her! *I think I --* Gah--don't stop now!
Ron knew that Hermione could tell he was mentally squirming.
*Yes?* Hermione prompted.
Ron paused in his thoughts, trying to understand himself what was stopping him. For some horrid reason, he thought of Malfoy. *But I don't want to say that lightly, because I know prats like Malfoy do it all the time to get what they want, and that's not fair, because the girls never know just what it means, and...*
Hermione didn't act as if that thought had anything to do with the Ron she knew. *I know you wouldn't do that.*
Ron was still struggling with himself, trying to pinpoint the reason. *But I wouldn't want to tell you if it wasn't so, and I don't know for sure because I never have been, but I think that's what it is and...*
Hermione couldn't stop herself from prompting him again. *You've never been-- what?*
Even in his mind, Ron was becoming so flustered that he wasn't thinking before he 'spoke'--never a good sign for Ron. *Before--I've never been in--* He stopped. *--Hermione!* he whined again.
Ron could tell that she knew he couldn't get it out, even in the connection. He couldn't lie about it if he thought it to her, but not saying it avoided the issue altogether. She did seem to act, however, as if she was pretty darned sure that she felt it there.
Ron let out a deep sigh. He was finished trying to describe how he felt. In their connection, Ron could feel that she was aware of how befuddled and frustrated it always made him. *Can we talk about this some other time? It's been a really long day--and night--and I just want to remember how tonight feels and be--like this-- and go to sleep... *
Hermione sighed and smiled a little to herself at Ron's frustration. He wasn't going to tell her tonight, but that was okay. *All right-- me too.*
Ron felt her snuggle closer into his chest. He felt her arms around his sides, and for a few wonderful minutes, she even reached up and played with his hair, like she had that time in the common room. He noticed how warm he felt next to her, and how safe somehow, even considering all the danger they were in. Holding Hermione, taking in everything about her and nearly falling asleep with his mind still connected with hers--nothing in the world could feel more right.
It was quiet for a while. Both of them were nearly asleep. Hermione's arms had since gone limp and relaxed, but Ron continued to softly twirl the curly, fine hairs at the nape of her neck around his finger, sending her to sleep with the amazing feeling it was causing in her.
*Hermione?* Ron murmured in his mind.
*Hmmm?* She could barely answer; even her thoughts were heavy with sleep.
*You know I do...*
She smiled happily against his chest, taking in his scent, and his warmth, and the wondrous combination of strength and gentleness that was uniquely Ron--all around her.
*I know you do, Ron.*