A.N. Here we are; the (mostly) end! It's been a pretty wild ride from start to finish. As many of you know, I came late to the HP fandom (about 3 months before this fic started), and had naively believed that the fandom had at least died down by this point. *pause for laughter* At the most, I had expected the most interest to be: 5 likes, one review consisting of 3 words (positive), and two rambling reviews that had nothing to do with the fic whatsoever, aside from the fact that the person hated it.
I was overwhelmingly, and pleasantly, wrong.
Aside from teaching me to go into the next better prepared, I've met some fabulous friends on here, who I have grown to be friends with, as well as enjoying conversations with several of my frequent reviewers. They have made my experience a wonderful one with their support and constructive criticism, and I'm thankful for each one. Several are romione authors themselves, and inspired me greatly. I'm going to mention as many of you here as I can, but please know if I miss you it's because my memory would put a sieve to shame. HalfASlug, hermionewazlib, diva-gonzo, writergirl8, Jesrod82, TMBlue, idearlylovealaugh, OtterandTerrier, ozzel1, regbride12, mettigel, SusieQ41, holly1492, ShePotter, ykickamoocow111, estrallaliliy11, ChelseaLovesFood, RustKnight, JustYourVoice, tlpursuit, heronlove, Vondrakenhof...and so many more that I'm sure and panicking that I'm missing! I also want to thank those that only reviewed once or a few times, as well as those who wanted to, but were too afraid to leave one. Your support was felt and appreciated to, and even though I don't know your names, thank you, so very much! Also, I'd like to give a special thanks to those who do not speak English as their first language, and those who don't speak it at all and completely relied on translation sites; it means a lot that you enjoyed it enough to go through the trouble, and I'm so sorry for any odd phrasing or construction on my part that got translated oddly!
I know some were disappointed that I didn't keep going after the therapy session, but those stories will be put in their own collection of connected one shots. Aside from the length, I discussed this with several people that I trust, and all agreed that if I continued, it was going to follow a formula that really lowered the quality of the story. I love this story, and respect my readers too much to do that intentionally. So if you feel like things they learned could have been expounded on and given more focus, don't worry! I plan to come back and cover different phases of their lives. I also have a LOT planned for other future stories, so I hope you join me for those, as well!
And now that the A.N. is getting longer than the chapter, I shall leave you to go cry in my root beer while a mix of End of an Era by Oliver Boyd and the Remembralls, End of the Road by BoyzIIMen, and Friends Forever by Vitamin C clash in my head.
(See story notes at the bottom to clear up any of the several issues I've foreseen)
It was like coming out of a potion induced sleep. A foggy, floaty sensation, where you slowly became aware of your own body, followed by your surroundings. Instinctively, they rolled slightly to face each other, wide smiles breaking across their faces as eyes met. It was a moment very much like rebirth; there was a newness, a freshness to everything that was familiar. It was a deeply intimate and special feeling, that neither felt that words could do justice. They didn't even try. Rather, with a joyous reverence, they each reached up to cup the other's cheek, slowly leaning forward until their lips met. It was a gesture of the pure love that each was feeling, and it surged through them with an unexpected intensity, making the contact they had shared during the memories feel unsubstantial and wispy. Both scooted closer, desperate to kindle that connection, the kiss deepening as hands began to-
"Excuse me; I hate to break this up, but I don't do sheets."
Both of them sprang apart, blinking as they tried to register the world outside of the two of them. Ursula sat beside the bed, and held out two vials of a light blue potion.
"Don't look so embarrassed," she said, as their faces flushed with heat, "Your brain releases those chemicals during the shock of awakening; just drink this, and those effects will go away long enough for the two of you to process everything together." At Ron's panicked look at how rapidly some of the effects...diminished, she stressed, "It's temporary."
Hermione primly finished her potion, handing back the empty vial. "Thank you. Sorry about...that. What happens now?"
"That's up to you. I'd be happy to schedule an appointment to go through anything that you still might find to be an issue, or, if you prefer, the two of you can process things together in the comfort of your own home. Those are the short term options. As for long term, you might need to return periodically when life becomes too overwhelming for you to work things out one on one."
They barely had to exchange a glance.
"I think maybe we should try it out on our own, first. That was sort of the whole point in coming, right?" Ron said.
"That would be preferable; it would be the best way to see how well you've understood what you've learned. If there comes a point where you have something you need to change but aren't sure how, whether that's ten days or ten years from now, then you can always come back in." She glanced down at her watch. "My friend Dorris-Dr. Wilson-has taken your paperwork down to be filed, so you're free to leave once any lingering dizziness has past."
"Dr. Wilson? The same doctor that has been leading the research on how long term magical use affects the human brain?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide.
"The same. I take it you've read her papers?"
Ron flopped back against the bed dramatically. "Might as well put me back under; Hermione won't be going anywhere for awhile." He said, defaulting to humor to hide how everything was affecting him until he could handle it in private.
Hermione swatted his leg, and began to climb off the bed. "As fascinating as Dr. Wilson probably is, nothing is going to distract me from the talk we need to have. So I hope you're ready to go home and get comfortable, because this is going to take several hours. At least."
There was a time when the prospect of spending that long talking about his feelings would have terrified him, but now he was actually looking forward to it. There was no uncertainty or fear to cloud things, and he was interested to see what she thought of the session. He stood up and took her hand, both of them blushing slightly as they smiled at each other. It was strange, now, to need words to communicate. Both were so used to the automatic feed of thoughts that they weren't quite sure how to talk, or what to say. On one hand, they had a deeper understanding of each other than ever before, but on the other, out here, there was almost the odd sensation of being on a first date.
Several minutes passed before a small cough brought them back to the fact that they weren't alone.
"Then I guess we'll be going...Oh! What time is it, anyway? I've lost track."
Ursula held up her watch. "It's about eight twenty-three, Sunday night."
"Damn, just three days? Feels more like three years!" Ron said, amazed.
"Fortunately, time passes more quickly in memories, or else you'd have many, many more sessions to go through. While we've kept your body supplied with nutrients, you'll probably start to feel hungry, as it goes back to functioning on its own."
"That's alright," Hermione said, then looked back up at Ron to say softly, "I believe I promised you takeaway."
Recalling that particular encounter, Ron swallowed, squeezing her hand. "Yeah, that sounds good. Ready?"
Hermione nodded, then stuck her free hand out to Ursula. "Thank you so much for everything you've done. We've learned a lot, and I really think it's going to help."
"I hope so; just remember, it only helps if you actually apply it, and it might take awhile to break old habits and form new ones. Everyone slips, so don't get frustrated. Also, you'll probably be experiencing some side effects tonight. Increased appetite, increased sex drive, and fatigue. Just let things flow naturally, and you should be fine by morning."
The three of them shook hands, then Hermione pulled out her wand. "Ready?" She asked Ron.
He smiled down at her. "More than."
with a slight popping sound, they were gone. Ursula gathered her bag and wand, turning out the lamp as she headed down to her office, to leave the memory patches to construct for potential sessions that were likely to crop up. It was, she reflected, one of the best sessions she had ever done, and her favorite part was always the end. The way a couple would look at each other, sometimes with the walls between them down for the first time in years. That wasn't quite the case tonight; with Hermione and Ron, there was a sense of wonder and peace. She sat down at her desk, making sure everything was in order to start on tomorrow, then leaned back in her chair with a sigh, pushing up her glasses to rub the bridge of her nose. This couple had been through more than many she had seen twice their age, and handling it better, too. By numbers alone, they should have stopped trying long ago. But, while numbers were important, she had learned early on that people weren't numbers. Those more inclined towards romanticism would say it was the power of love. Love was a powerful force, and certainly not to be discounted, but she had seen it overwhelmed before. The difference here was the fact that Ron and Hermione had made a choice. They had decided their relationship was worth it, and they were willing to own up to the bits of themselves that needed to be improved. That was going to get them farther than most would think.
Because on the bad days, the hard days, sometimes it was hard to recapture those warm and fluffy feelings in the heat of hurt and anger. Oh, it would come back later, but you had to want to remember why you loved someone in the first place. Ron and Hermione wouldn't be broken, because they knew that when things went wrong, you picked yourselves back up and rebuilt. Life might knock them down a time or two, but they would help each other to their feet. In fact, she was a bit envious of their ability to do so; if only more couples realized that before it was too late...Abruptly, she sat back up. How many times had they thought it was too late? How many times had they been sure, and kept going anyway? The sound of the clock was the only thing to be heard in the office for the next several minutes. Then, slowly, she reached for her stationery, and she began to write the letter she should have quite some time ago. She glanced at her work with a smile before she continued, her left hand reaching up briefly to caress her pendant. She wasn't too old to be inspired by those younger than herself.
The stop to pick up their food was brief, and the meal was still steaming when they Apparated into their flat. Both of them were having slight difficulties in being able to interact with the outside world, so much so that both had stood in front of the counter for a long stretch of time, waiting because they thought the other would have to be the one to order.
"Come on, let's just eat in bed tonight, and Vanish the trash," Hermione suggested, tugging him towards their room. It would be easier to do this now that there weren't so many outside sources of stimulation.
"Don't have to tell me twice; I know we've basically been asleep for three days, but I feel as tired as if I'd spent an afternoon doing drills," Ron agreed. He kept having to remind himself that this was happening right now; he was tripping over the basic trivialities of conversation as his mind attempted to sort through what had happened, and what she already knew.
Quickly, they changed into comfortable pajamas, getting in and spreading a few napkins over the blanket as they divvied up the containers. They ate in companionable silence, mutually agreeing to get the food out of the way so it wouldn't distract them. Propped up against their pillows, they sat close together, arms and legs touching, creating a comfortable warmth. Once they had finished (and Ron had finished off anything Hermione had left), Hermione Vanished the trash, then set her wand on her bedside table, before scooting closer to Ron. His arm looped around her as she leaned against his chest, both of them sighing. Solid, physical contact was highly satisfying after the insubstantial nature of the memories, both as comfort and a show of affection.
"So." Hermione started, her voice sounding loud in the otherwise silent room.
"So," Ron agreed.
"That was..."
"One of the strangest things you've ever experienced?"
"Yes, but-"
"But in a good way."
"Exactly. And it feels even stranger, now, to be in my own head, without hearing you think. I'm slightly disoriented, and not sure where to start."
He twisted a strand of her hair, contemplating, then deciding to plunge forward with a general statement and go from there. "We were pretty bloody thick sometimes, weren't we?"
Hermione gave a small laugh. "Sometimes? I'm surprised my face isn't still red from slapping it so much. There were so many things I should have seen-things that were so obvious-"
"But some things weren't, even though they felt like they should be."
"I don't think I ever fully realized how little you actually believed in yourself," Hermione said softly.
Ron shrugged. "I was always comparing myself to my brothers, you know? They could always do so much, but me..."
"Ron, there was a minimum of two years between you and any brother! How could you expect to perform at the same level?"
"Well, yeah, I can see that now, but back then, it wasn't really something I thought of. Kids don't really take experience and practice into consideration."
Hermione tilted her head so that she could look up at his face. "And I made it worse. I was always so frustrated with you, because I knew you were capable, but it just seemed like you wouldn't even try sometimes."
"Because sometimes, I didn't," Ron admitted, with a half smile, half grimace at his younger self. "I made myself believe that it was easier if I didn't try and failed, because at least then, I knew I wasn't doing my best. If I tried, it would mean that my best wasn't good enough."
"A flawed logic, but I can understand."
"It really fucked me up though, when I used it on you," Ron continued. "Things would have been a lot easier if I had just come out and said how I felt, instead of trying to impress you first."
Hermione snorted. "I was just as bad. I expected you to read my mind, then got mad when you didn't. And then, of course, we'd punish each other."
"That was pretty fucked up. I mean, there were times when I was an arse and probably deserved at least some of it, but usually I just took it as one more sign that I wasn't good enough."
She twisted around so that she could take his face in her hands. "You were always good enough!" She said fiercely. "There were times you were frustrating, and sometimes hurtful, but I never, ever looked down on you as being somehow less than me."
He swallowed, closing his eyes. "I know. I just...I never saw those things about myself, so I couldn't even imagine that you did."
"Probably because I was never very good at showing it. I always focus more on fixing something that's wrong, and forgetto praise when something is right. Even when I try, I usually end up saying the wrong thing. But I'm going to be trying harder in the future, and I need you to tell me when I'm not saying something the way you need to hear it."
"It's not as bad as it was when we were kids. I think you would have gotten better at it if I hadn't read some twisted meaning into it that wasn't there, and bitten your head off for it."
"That did make me nervous about trying, I'll admit. I wish that you had at least asked what I had meant, so I could have explained. I always hated that I seemed to upset you, not knowing why."
"Sometimes, it was because I was hurt that I thought you believed the things I already thought about myself. Other times...well, you don't exactly like to be wrong."
"I loathe and detest being wrong," Hermione said, nodding. "But just because I don't like it, doesn't mean that I can't be. I need to get used to admitting it and getting over it."
That was definitely nice to hear, Ron thought. One of the hardest things about arguing with Hermione was that she was usually right about most things, and it was an uphill battle getting her to see it the times she wasn't. Not that he expected her to just give up her point if he contradicted her, but just the fact that she recognized it as a problem and was willing to listen would make things loads easier.
"Neither of us have been too good about saying when we're upset, or why," he pointed out. "Like when we had the fight about Crookshanks and...Scabbers."
"I couldn't understand why you would be so upset over something you didn't care about."
"Your mum was spot on about it, though. I thought if I denied wanting something enough, it wouldn't hurt as bad when I lost it, or didn't get it. Failed spectacularly every time, of course."
"Which lead to the Ball incident."
Ron groaned. "Merlin, I was so miserable that night! Realized what I wanted just in time to see I didn't have a chance."
"But you did! I would have gone with you if you had asked; I wanted you to ask!"
He looked down at her, her face twisted in consternation. "I know. And part of me really, really wishes I had. I wish I was the one that danced with you, kissed you...made you happy."
"Ron-"
"I'm not upset about that part anymore," he assured her. "You needed that. And...I wasn't ready. Not for the kind of relationship we both wanted. I would've taken something wrong at some point, we'd have had a huge fight over it...and who knows if we'd have ever gotten back together?"
"You're right, but so much of the pain we put each other through was so needless..."
He leaned forward and kissed her gently, cupping her face as their mouths moved together slowly, a mingling of apology and forgiveness.
Hermione pulled back reluctantly, nipping his lower lip as she moved away. "You weren't the only one that had some growing to do. Not only did I use my friendship with Viktor to try to make you jealous-a stupid, hurtful thing to do-I reacted horribly in sixth year. We weren't dating, and even though being upset would have been normal, I shouldn't have taken it out on you when you started dating Lavender."
"Not that you could really even call that dating," Ron said with a grimace. "That was a shite thing to do to both of you. It would've been one thing if I had actually dated Lav because I wanted to, but we both know that wasn't what I was doing."
"Yes, you were pretty sneaky, how you always managed to angle yourself to see my reaction. Although I think it affected you more when I didn't give you a reaction at all."
"It terrified me," he said honestly. "I really, truly thought that was it. No word from you at Christmas, and then when we got back, it was like I didn't even exist."
"You hid it well. As far as I knew at the time, you were perfectly fine, getting up to God only knew what with Lavender."
"Yeah, about that!" Ron said loudly, twisting a bit until she half sat up. "How the hell did you never figure it out? I mean, I'd almost be offended that you believed it in the first place-"
"Seriously? Every time I saw the two of you, you were connected at the face! Any time you pulled away for air, I thought the suction would rip the flesh off and expose her skull!" Hermione said, her voice climbing several octaves.
"Just because a person does one, doesn't automatically mean they'll do the other!"
Hermione slumped. "I couldn't think of any reason why you wouldn't," she answered, her voice quieter.
He sighed, settling back down. "I had lots of reasons. That's pretty much the only thing out of the whole mess that I don't regret."
She nodded, trying to push away the old pain. She was over it; they had both moved on. But it was nice to finally get it all out in the open, in a way.
"I know. It just...it hurt so much. It had felt like we were finally so close to being what I wanted, and then I had to watch as it all slipped away."
He stared down at the comforter, his eyes traveling up the thinnest of the blue stripes. "I didn't mean to hurt you." At her skeptical look, he hurried on, "Not like that! At least, not as much as I did. I just-I thought you'd get mad, and maybe hurt a little, and then we could...it was stupid."
Her hand reached out to nudge his knee so he would look at her. "Maybe so, but...you needed it. Going out with Lavender, I mean. As awful as it was, I think it helped you learn what you really wanted in a relationship."
His eyes snapped up to meet hers. "You. What I wanted was you."
At his words, her cheeks became hot; the look in his eyes was so open and honest, it was impossible to mistake what he was saying as anything other than the truth. She stretched out,
laying her head on her pillow as she tugged him down next to her, both of them lying on their sides facing each other.
"You have me."
He smiled at that, his eyes shining. "I do, don't I? Until this weekend, I hadn't realized how early that had started. I never would've thought at the time that anything I did would make you interested that way."
"Why not? You could be a typical teenager, but you always had a good heart. And there were so many things that you would say or do, without really noticing, that showed that. I almost think it would have been more surprising if I hadn't fallen in love with you."
Lips twisting in a rueful smile, he said, "Maybe, but I definitely wasn't what you would call romantic or anything."
Hermione bit back a sly grin, deciding that it was time to use a little of the knowledge she had gleaned. "Oh, I don't know; you could be rather poetic. I think I liked the bit where you compared my eyes to the liquid centers of Chocolate Frogs."
She had been expecting a reaction, but not the one she got, as Ron chuckled evilly, his smile widening.
"No, I think you surpassed me there. I'm flattered, actually; I never thought of myself as having skin like Devon cream-"
She rolled away, burying her face in her pillow with a groan. "Nononono!"
"With cinnamon sprinkles!" Ron finished with a laugh, as he rolled on top of her, snickering into her neck.
"Oh Merlin, why did you have to see that?" She wailed, trying not to laugh herself.
"Although," Ron continued in a mock serious tone, "Maybe as the daughter of dentists, you might not want something sweet. I know! Maybe some of that famous Weasley rump?"
A shriek escaped her lips as he tickled her ribs, and she couldn't help the tears of laughter that leaked from her eyes as he rolled her onto her back, as she batted playfully at his shoulders.
"You're horrid!" She gasped, the insult ruined by the huge smile she wore.
Ron looked down at her, her hair frizzed out around her head and spilling off the pillow, the light from the moonlight shining down on her pink kittens-with-balls-of-yarn pajamas, and thought she had never looked more beautiful to him. All at once, he was hit by a tidal wave of emotion; all she was to him, all that they were together, all they had been through and nearly lost...the smile evaporated from his face as he leaned forward to rest his head on her shoulder, careful to brace his weight enough not to crush her.
At the short glimpse she got of his face, Hermione stopped laughing, her arms snaking around his shoulders as they began to heave. He was pressed tight against her shoulder, and she swore she heard him sob.
"Ron? Ron, what is it?" She asked worriedly as her top became damp with hot tears.
He blinked, leaning back a little to face her, but not enough to break her embrace. "I love you. I just-so much, you know? Since I was about fourteen years old, it's just been getting more and more...sometimes so much it hurts. For a long time, I didn't think you'd ever love me back."
"But I did. I do," she cut in to assure him.
"I know. But even when I did finally get that figured out, I just sort of thought that you could never love me as much as I love you-not in a bad way, just, well, I couldn't see how it'd be possible to love me that much. But you do. You really, really do; I felt it. And knowing that makes me...fuck, Hermione, I can't say what it makes me! But then I think of how many times I've nearly lost you...for good even, and mostly from stupid shite, and I just can't, Hermione, I can't..."
By now, she was crying as well, Pulling him down closer to nuzzle his cheek with hers. The air was thick with their emotions, and she knew neither of them could contain it for long. Too much had been building up inside them from everything they had seen, and it needed to come out. They needed a tangible reminder of what was real; that the bad things they had seen were past, and the good things were still there, ready to be even better.
"I know, Ron. I know, and I feel the exact same way. Now, please...I need you to love me."
He hesitated, wanting nothing more than to do exactly that, but, "Hermione? Are you sure? We still need to-"
"We will. Just...please."
Words alone might have been argued with, but once her lips were against his, he was lost, the need to be as close to her as possible a heavy, painful ache in his chest. Tenderly, he kissed down the side of her neck, pulling at the neckline of her pajama top to give him access to her shoulder. He moved slowly, committing every taste and reaction to memory, from the texture of her skin, to the small, breathy sigh she let out at the sensation of his tongue on a certain patch.
As he moved lower, Hermione helped him by leaning up a little and wiggling enough to get her top off, dropping it to the floor beside the bed. She giggled a little as he nuzzled her breast, his nose ticking against the soft skin. Even though she was watching, she still gasped a little when he took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking it more firmly in contrast to his earlier touches. She brought one leg up, her heel digging into the mattress as she twisted her fingers through his hair, knowing, moreso now from the memories, that he took pleasure and comfort from the gesture.
Ron tired to pay special attention to all of the spots that he knew gave her the most pleasure, using his knowledge from the memories to elicit the best response. There were some moments that he wasn't very good at expressing his feelings with words, and while he didn't want to completely replace words with actions, sometimes he just felt too intensely to communicate any other way.
The muscles in her neck tensed as her head jerked back, her eyelids fluttering. He hadn't even used his mouth on her directly yet, but she was already wet. The way he nibbled the skin of her stomach, and whispered sweet yet naughty endearments against her thighs had her biting her lower lip. Feeling that things were imbalanced, Hermione pushed him over, happily returning the favor.
Startled, Ron bit back a protest. He had learned that it frustrated her sometimes when he told her that she didn't have to-obviously she didn't, and if she didn't want to, she wouldn't. Instead, he let her know how much he enjoyed what she was doing-it was a little surprising to find that both liked things a bit verbal-and as she nipped her way along his shoulders and chest, he made sure to keep her hair pushed out of her face.
Hermione was just considering the best path to take when she felt his hand slip between her legs and begin to tease her, derailing her train of thought. "Ron!" She moaned, dropping her forehead to press against his shoulder as his fingers moved over her. He could never seem to keep himself from touching her for long, and while she wished that sometimes he would just sit back and accept more, she couldn't help but be pleased at the attention. And really, it shouldn't have surprised her too much, that Ron's giving nature would manifest in such a way. Pressing openmouthed kisses along his jawline, she reached into his boxers, stroking him firmly from base to tip, smiling a bit when he choked in surprise.
He angled his head to kiss her, their position not entirely comfortable as their mouths clashed together, but it was outweighed by the pleasure that their hands were busy bringing, teasing and torturing, keeping them both right on the edge. Quickly, it became frustrating, and they had to pull away.
"Hermione...I need.." Ron panted.
"Me too. Now!" Hermione agreed.
She pulled him down on top of her, and he groaned low in his throat as he sank inside, her legs wrapping around him to draw him in deeper. It hit him, suddenly, why he always needed this when emotions were running high. Like this, in this exact moment, it was almost like being close enough to her.
He moved at a steady, firm pace, and Hermione couldn't help dragging her nails down his arms with each stroke. He wasn't going as all out as she now knew they both preferred it-there was something about knowing you had made your partner lose control that they both enjoyed-but it wasn't a night for that. This was a night for simple messages to pass. 'I'm here.' 'I know.' 'I love you.' 'You're it for me.' 'I don't want to lose you.' 'You won't.' It was all of the emotions, all of the love, that they had been forced to keep to themselves since the beginning of the session. It was acceptance; it was coming home.
He felt her tremble around him, squeezing down and drawing him over the edge with him. When they came, it was almost like those few moments when Ursula had linked them; it was as if their very beings brushed together.
Panting, Ron rolled to his side, leaving his arm draped around Hermione, who mimicked his motion, bringing herself to face him.
"That was..." He began.
"Intense," she finished.
"I was going to say bloody brilliant, but that'll work, too."
Both laughed, their foreheads bumping with the motion. It took several minutes to get their breathing under control, the time spent in silence as they lazily exchanged small caresses.
"I guess we shouldn't've done that, huh?" Ron asked, wearing a small frown.
"Actually, I think we should have," Hermione disagreed, surprising him. "We've just had a huge, emotionally charged experience, and Dr. Fletcher did say it was going to come out."
"Well, yeah, but we weren't really done talking, and I've noticed we sort of do that sometimes to avoid the issue..." Ron said, amazed that, for the first time, he was the one questioning whether or not sex was a good idea.
"True. And we have to stop doing that. But we also use sex to show love and affection, to establish an emotional connection, and to show apology and forgiveness. And right now, we're still talking about the subject at hand afterwards, which isn't what we usually do, so I think it's fine."
Ron gave a laugh. "Oh good; I'm not sure if I was ready to be that mature about it."
"The fact that you'd even question it shows that you are. Besides, I think sometimes it would help to break the tension, just like sometimes each of us needs a small break to be mad, and to be able to think things over before we talk about it."
"We should both probably also work on spitting out that something's wrong in the first place, instead of ignoring it until it builds up," he said, scratching the side of his nose.
"You noticed that too?"
"Kind of hard not to. The hell of it is, sometimes we even have good intentions with that. Remember your last year, and how you overheard something that sounded like I was cheating on you?"
Hermione closed her eyes, and groaned quietly. "Merlin, yes. I know I didn't handle that in the best way, but I honestly had no idea how to go about it! I didn't want to upset you if it wasn't true, but I also didn't want to be one of those stupid people that ignores glaringly concrete evidence. Once I finally knew what was going on, I thought telling you would just offend you."
"It might have, a little," Ron admitted, "But but not knowing why...it always had me a little on edge, not knowing if it was going to happen again, or what I had done wrong in the first place. It faded a little over time, but it was still in the back of my head."
"I'm sorry, Ron," Hermione said, laying her hand on his cheek, "That's an awful way to live, and I don't want you to have to feel like that anymore. Maybe we should have a system, to help us get those types of issues out in the open?"
Ron repressed a shudder at the gleam in her eyes; it was far too reminiscent of school days and lesson planners.
"Hermione, don't you think a system might be...going a little overboard? Wouldn't it just make things more complicated?"
"I'm not talking about the revising systems that I had for school, Ron," she said with amusement. "The point would be to make things simple, where both of us would have an equal say in what we were comfortable with, and what we aren't."
"Oh. I reckon that might be alright, then."
But she heard the reservation in his voice, and had an excellent guess what that was about. "It would be more of a general guideline. Not rules that you would be punished for breaking," she said quietly.
He flushed at being so transparent; he had known that the therapy meant that she would have learned things and would be able to read him better, but it was sort of disconcerting to actually experience it. "You'd really want my ideas?"
"Of course! This is a team effort, and you have just as much of a say as I do. Besides, you have excellent ideas." She sighed, warm air puffing against his chin. "And that's another problem. I don't always listen to you-I just make up my mind and barrel on ahead. Sometimes you have more information about something than I do. Sometimes you have a better idea. But even if you're wrong, or my way actually is best, you deserve to be heard, instead of me always having the floor."
He rubbed her side, giving her a small smile. "I don't always make it easy, though. Half the time I read something into what you say that isn't there, and the other half, I'm being a smartarse when you need me to be serious."
Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I think those are drastically inflated odds. Yes, it would be nice if you asked me to clarify something, and I definitely want to know if I hurt you with something I say, and sometimes it would help if I knew you were taking things seriously. But those are things you can work on, just as I'll be working on what I learned."
"It would be easier if I was still able to know what was going on inside your head. To be honest, I think I'll miss that a little."
"You only have to ask, you know. Besides, I think you have a pretty good idea by this point."
He propped his head up on his hand. "True. But if I've learned anything, it's that sometimes it's better to ask anyway, even if you think you know what's going on."
Hermione rolled forward a bit to kiss his shoulder. "See? I told you that you have excellent ideas."
"Every now and then, I manage," he winked, to let her know he was joking. "How about you? Do you think you've seen enough of my thought process to get a handle on me?"
She pretended to think about it. "Hmm...well, right now, I think you're probably thinking that you need to pee."
"Wasn't, till you said that," he grumbled, rolling off the bed. "No fair; be back in a tick."
"And now you're wondering if you should have a quick wank, or if you should wait to see if we'll have another round," she called after him.
"Hermione!" He stuck his head back in the door, his face red. "I wasn't-I didn't-" except that he was, and he did.
She laughed; "And now I bet you're thinking that if you act all wounded and indignant, I'll say yes!"
He gave her a little glare, his lower lip out. "I hope this wears off at least a little."
Hermione stretched, curling her toes and hoping he would hurry; she needed to go now, too. As she lay there, she pondered their evening so far. As much as she had loved learning about Ron, it was even more wonderful to be here, talking with the Ron of today. Although it wasn't how she had initially pictured this conversation going, she decided she was actually happier with it this way. Instead of being on edge and nervous, they were able to be perfectly relaxed as they discussed important subjects, while also being able to laugh and joke about things without avoiding them. They had reached a new, more intimate level of ease with each other, something she hadn't even realized was possible.
In the bathroom, Ron was having similar thoughts as he washed his hands.
Bit unfair of her to use what she knows against me like that, he thought, rubbing his hands under the tap. Sort of puts you off your stroke when someone predicts it. He stared at his reflection in horror. Did this mean that his Puppy Eyes routine wasn't going to be effective anymore? Not that she hadn't always seen through it anyway, of course; surely she wouldn't be completely immune? Nah. He pulled out his toothbrush to give his teeth a quick cleaning, ready to get back to their room to talk some more. He spat, then paused as the water washed the toothpaste down the drain. He was actually looking forward to that.
Not that he didn't like talking to Hermione; it'd be pretty mental to live with someone you didn't enjoy talking to, much less marrying them. But for the first time, he wasn't worried about discussing something so serious. Normally, he'd be sick to his stomach, hoping to rush things along before he cocked them up, certain that he'd end up doing something to make her leave. Now, he wasn't worried about that. Obviously, he was still going to mess up sometimes; they both were. And he wasn't stupid enough to think that even after everything that had happened, things would just suddenly go perfectly. It was going to take work-learning something didn't do a damn thing if you don't apply it-but he wasn't afraid of putting in effort, and knew Hermione wasn't, either. But now he had a clearer picture of why some of the things he did didn't work. Now he understood what her thought process was behind some of the things she did or said that had always upset or confused him before. Knowing that, and knowing how much she loved and respected him as a person, friend, and lover, he was more secure on where they stood on everything that mattered.
With light steps, he went to open the door of the bathroom, and was nearly pushed out of the way by Hermione.
"What in Merlin's name was taking you so long?" She shot over her shoulder as she slammed the door between them.
"I thought you knew? Don't tell me it's worn off already!" He chuckled, going back to wait in their room. Obviously, like yawning, some things were just contagious.
He had slid on a pair of boxers and was just getting comfortable in bed when she got back, picking up her pajamas and putting them back on.
"Such a waste," he sighed.
Hermione rolled her eyes, but cuddled up against him all the same. "So sorry to spoil your view, but I'm chilly-and no, I don't need you to warm me up. At least, not just yet."
Ron adjusted his pillow to support his neck, making looking down at her easier. In some ways it was a little strange; he could vividly recall what she looked like at seventeen, and eleven, and even five. He smiled a bit as he studied her features, taking in the subtle changes that had occurred over the years.
"What are you looking at me like that for?" Hermione asked, tilting her head.
"Nothing. Just...thinking. You were a pretty cute kid."
She snorted. "If you were willing to overlook the front teeth the size of billboards, I suppose so. Now you, on the other hand, were cute."
"Me? Did you miss the part where my hair looked like my parents had dipped it in the same paint they used for my walls?"
"Oh please, it wasn't that bad! Besides, it darkened some as you got older. And I've always loved your hair."
"Yeah, that was one of the things I found surprising."
Hermione hooked her calf over his, shifting a little as his hand rested on her hip. "What would you say was the most surprising thing you learned?"
His forehead creased in thought as he sifted through the memories. "Hm. I don't-no. I think it's probably the fact that I never realized that you had things you're insecure about. I mean, you were always sort of...the type who had everything together, and it was hard picturing you having anything like that that you really had to worry about. No matter what happened, you were always strong and pulled through."
Hermione thought back, ruefully contemplating the many times that she certainly didn't feel like she had everything together. "I suppose now you realize just how weak I can be."
"No," he gently contradicted, "Now I know you're even stronger than I thought."
She drew a small, shuddery breath. He always knew just what to say when it mattered.
"So what did you find surprising?" He asked.
It was hard to choose just one thing; there had been so many interesting discoveries. "People think that your temper flares up quickly, but they're really quite wrong. I had never realized before just how much you let slide before you actually react. Sometimes it seems so sudden and random, when really you've been holding things in and not drawn attention to it. There have been times when it's been a good thing, but a lot of the time it's made things worse for you."
"True. But sometimes I don't realize how much something bothers me right away. It's like it takes awhile to really sink in, then hits all at once."
"I think part of the problem is that you pay more attention to others first-your family, Harry, me-before you think about yourself. You're always worried about everyone else that you don't give your problems the attention they deserve, partially because you don't think you deserve it."
He shrugged sheepishly. "Maybe not. But it just...seems sort of selfish otherwise, doesn't it?"
"Ron, there's nothing selfish about taking care of yourself. You know one of the things I love most about you is how well you take care of the people who are important to you, but that's no good if you hurt yourself in the process. You just need to work on finding a better balance."
"Might be easier said than done. Help me?"
She raised her hand to smooth along his jaw. "Of course."
"Do you ever wonder how we managed to get this far?"
"What do you mean?"
"With the way we were. Sending the wrong signals, not noticing when the other person was sending the right signals...fighting over stupid shite that didn't even really matter instead of talking about the things that actually did."
"Honestly? No, not really. Both of us wanted the same thing, and we're very determined people. We made some bad choices, and took a few wrong turns, but the love we felt, and the desire to get things right were just as strong. What made it seem harder was the fact that we were so young, and had no idea what we were doing; everything seems so much worse at that point."
"So, what, you think the therapy was a waste of time then?"
"Of course not! We definitely have problems that we needed to learn to identify and deal with. I'm just saying that they weren't as bad as what we were expecting. Going in, part of me was afraid that we were going to find out something horrible and insurmountable, when really what we discovered was that a lot of the things we were worried about weren't issues at all."
"You mean like how we both thought the other would end up getting sick of us, and leave," he nodded.
"Exactly. "Or the way you sometimes believed I thought you were less important than anything else, or how I sometimes thought you didn't take me seriously."
"I do take you seriously," Ron said earnestly. "I just hate seeing you get all stressed out, and I clown around to try to get you to relax. I didn't realize that sometimes you'd see that as me not caring about things that mattered to you."
"I know. And really, I do need your sense of humor a lot of the time; it's helped in more situations than I can name. I just always expected you to know the difference without being told, which doesn't even make any sense. As for you being less important to me than other things, like Harry-"
"I know that's not true; I've just never been very good at coming out and saying when I need attention."
"And I don't always pick up on that sort of thing very well. When I see a problem, my first instinct is to solve it. But you aren't a twelve year old procrastinating on your homework anymore; you're an adult, and you know how to solve your own problems. Sometimes you just need me to listen while you vent."
"Not that I don't like it when you help," he said, not wanting her to get the idea that he never wanted her input.
"And when you ask for it, I'll be more than happy to give it. Or to at least make the offer for you to either accept or decline."
Ron shifted a little, so the knee of her bottom leg wasn't digging into him. "You know what's strange?"
"What?"
"The fact that I know we have a lot to talk about, but I have no idea what to say or where to start. Every time I try, it's like...it's already been said."
She contemplated that a moment before answering. "I don't think that's so strange. After all, we did just get done with over twenty years' worth of memories; that in and of itself is overwhelming, and it's probably going to take us quite a while to fully process it."
"So how do we do it? Start at the very first, and work our way forward? I don't want to half arse this, but that doesn't seem very practical. I mean, that's what the therapy was, right? Going through all of it again in that much detail sort of feels like going in circles."
"Well, I don't think there would be much point to it-that was the entire purpose of the therapy. We both saw what we needed to see, and learned what we needed to learn. And, in a way, it was like we were talking the whole time."
Ron considered her words, turning them over in his head. That was close, but... "I think it was better than that. I think what we were doing was listening. Out here, that's a lot harder to do. There's distractions, or wanting to hurry up to get to our turn to talk. There, all we could focus on was what was in front of us, and I think it sank in better that way."
She beamed at him. "That's very well put! I want to know what you saw, and what your feelings were, but I don't think I'd be able to fully appreciate it if I heard it all at once. It would feel like a rush, like we were trying to get it out of the way."
"That's about how I feel. I'd rather hear it in bits and pieces, at times when maybe I needed to hear it."
"For now, maybe just sort of, well, hit the high points. After all, getting this right is going to be a long process, so I'm sure we'll be talking about it for months, if not years, to come."
Ron scooted up higher to prop himself with a pillow, so he could look at her better without his eyes going crossed. "Not sure about high points-I learned a lot during the low ones too-but I think I get the general idea. Gimme a minute."
Hermione bunched her own pillow up under her neck, watching him quietly as he thought. It was something she always enjoyed; the way his lips would move slightly, as if going over everything in his head, and his eyes would narrow a bit as the muscles in his face jumped before going still once he had things figured out. She could almost track the progress of his thoughts by his face alone, so it came as no real surprise to her when he gave a sharp blink, before focusing on her once again.
He took a deep breath. He had just learned a lot, but that didn't mean he was suddenly better at saying what he meant. Sometimes it came out right, sometimes not. He was just hoping it was one of his better attempts.
"Well, I obviously learned a lot about you. I learned some of the things I thought were wrong, and some things I was right about, but I was wrong about why I thought them. I got to watch myself fall in love with you, and I ended up not only falling for you all over again, but deeper, too. I learned just how passionate you are even when you try to keep it under control, and I learned that your sense of wrong and right is so strong that it means that you'll make choices you might not really want to if you believe it's what needs to be done."
Her hand had come up to rest on his chest, and he took it it in his.
"I learned a lot about myself, too. At first, I was afraid I was going to see some really bad stuff-things you thought about me but never wanted to admit. And while there were definitely some things that I wasn't proud of, none of it was anything you were secretly hating me for. I can come across as not really taking something seriously when I need to, and I look pretty scary when I'm pissed off, which I don't mean to-"
"At least not most of the time," she said.
"Most of the time," he agreed, smiling before continuing, "One of the biggest things I need to work on is realizing that just because sometimes I see myself in a negative way, doesn't mean that you do. That's the other thing. I was always worrying that you were going to see me as...I dunno...some colossal cock up. But you didn't-well, maybe once or twice, when I really had done something to qualify-but most of the time, you saw some pretty damn great things that I never noticed about myself."
"I wish I had made that easier for you to see back then," Hermione said softly, remembering vividly the hurt she had felt through him growing up, at the times when he believed she didn't think very much of him.
"And I wish I'd had the bollocks to say right out what I wanted, instead of expecting you to know, or manipulating the situation to try to get things to go my way without that risk. But I didn't. I made my mistakes, and you loved me anyway. You could've moved on to someone better-or at least easier to deal with-than me, but you didn't, and I'll always be so fucking thankful for that. I know I'm still going to make mistakes, but I'm going to do my best to make them as few and as far between as possible. I...I'm in this, Hermione. All they way, whatever it takes."
He came to a stop, not knowing what else to say, noticing that her eyes were tearing up.
"Oh, Ron! Th-that was lovely!" She sniffled, not caring that she was being emotional. How could she not be, after hearing all of that?
Even though it was fairly dark, he knew his blush was evident. "S'not lovely, just the truth. Come on, tell me what you learned, besides the fact that I'm a jealous, perverted wanker?"
"Although there were a few interesting bits of information of that persuasion," she teased lightly, pulling herself up to his level, "There was a lot more than that. I discovered that you hide a lot about yourself-no, that's not true," she said thoughtfully, "It's not that you hide those things, you just don't draw attention to them. I always knew you were brave, and one of the things that first drew me to you was how much you did for the people you cared about. What I hadn't realized before was just how often you put those people first, even when you really, really needed to feel like you were put first."
"I didn't...I didn't want people to think I was better than Harry, or to take anything away from him," Ron said, recalling the guilt he would feel every time he wanted to be the center of attention.
"Of course not. But everyone needs to feel special, Ron. And a lot of times, we really didn't let you. You were always looking out for Harry, and me, and you never hesitated to compliment me when I had done something-even if you usually kept it restricted to me being clever. But...I'm ashamed to admit it, but I didn't really do the same in return. That's one of the main things I hope to change in the future, like I said."
"I wanted to compliment you for other stuff, but I didn't have any bloody idea how to do it without looking like a tit."
"But you tried. You were also the only one who would tell me when I was crossing a line-not always in the nicest way, but honestly, I tended to ignore anyone who didn't say it as bluntly. I need someone who will be honest with me about things like that, and I can always count on you for that, just like I can count on you to brighten me up when I'm taking things too seriously."
"Definitely one of my favorite parts. The cheering you up bit, not telling you off."
"Hm, I think I recall a few times where you enjoyed being right. Not that I blame you, in hindsight."
"And that probably wasn't the best way to get my point across. A lot of times, I didn't really give you an option to bow out gracefully, without making it seem like I wouldn't listen to you about anything after that if I 'won.' I also wasn't above taking some pretty low blows, which I regret. It didn't get my point across, and only ended up hurting you."
"both of us are pretty bad about that. We're both so good at seeing weaknesses, and exploiting them to gain advantage, when we shouldn't be using that on each other at all. We act like it's a war, when we're really on the same side. If one of us is hurt or miserable, neither actually wins."
"At least it doesn't happen as much as it used to. Winning was more important when we were kids, but now I think a lot of it is being frustrated that we think the other one isn't listening."
Hermione tilted her head in thought. "And that way of thinking wasn't even always about us. You were always afraid you didn't have anything to offer, and expected people to be as dismissive of you as you were of yourself. I got used to always having to be forceful with my opinions at a young age to keep people from running right over me. And...that really isn't fair to each other. I've never thought you were less than me in any way, and even though you might not always agree with me, you've always at least listened, and would actually even think about it more during the times I didn't force it."
Ron winced a little as he put an arm behind his head. "We've gotten better about that, though, although I don't think we realized it. You don't get so confrontational over every issue you don't agree with, and I'm a bit more secure now and don't automatically assume everything is a slight all the time. We're not the same as when we were fourteen, and I reckon that when we're thirty, we won't be the same as when we were twenty."
Both lay there, taking a few moment to reflect on their thoughts. Hermione squirmed uncomfortably, not wanting to bring up the next subject, but knowing that the therapy was pointless if she couldn't even do that much.
"Ron? There's...another thing I want to talk about."
He closed his eyes, knowing by the hesitancy in her voice exactly what she was talking about. "The locket," he said flatly.
She sighed. "I knew you wouldn't want to talk about this right now, but..."
He gave his head a hard shake. "It's not something I don't think I'll ever want to talk about, but if you think we need to, I will."
That made her pause. Normally, if Ron could get out of talking about an uncomfortable subject, he was all for it. But he was putting his own comfort aside so she could have some sort of closure, so out of fairness, she took a moment to think about whether or not they really needed to bring it back up. For her, maybe not so much. After all, she had seen first hand his feelings and motivations, and how deeply it had affected him. But while Ron might have moved past it, he deserved to hear it from her verbally that she didn't think like that; hearing it directly could help more to counteract the times when doubts crept in.
"I don't want to drag this out more than more than necessary," she said carefully, knowing this was a sensitive subject, "But I want you to know, very, very clearly, that none of the things you thought were in the least bit true."
He felt the old, familiar choking sensation he always had whenever this subject came up-even if it was always just in his own mind. "I...Yeah. I know."
She sat up all the way, placing a hand gently on his jaw so he would look at her. "Do you? Do you really? Because it's important for you to know...and I wish you had told me that you had carried that around with you for so long."
"Couldn't really say anything, could I? I know none of it was true, but I still didn't want you to see all of the messed up shite inside my head. And even if you knew, it didn't excuse what I did."
"For one thing, I forgave you for that years ago, and so did Harry; I'm not saying to forget it, but you need to let it go."
"Yeah, well, it's a little hard. Maybe if the locket had used things I'd never thought of before..."
She shook her head. "That wouldn't have worked. If it had just dumped a bunch of horrible things in your head, you would have realized what was going on."
"I know, but that just makes it worse, that there was already something inside me he could use. I don't know how I'm supposed to forgive that, or let it go." He said, feeling rather ill at the subject at hand.
Hermione bumped him again to make him look back up at her. "Ron, you do know...thinking those things wasn't bad, don't you?"
He jerked back in shock. "What the hell? Of course it was! I-"
"No!" She cut in quickly. "You keep acting like they were some twisted, evil thoughts, but they weren't! Everyone is afraid of being left out by the people they care about. Everyone has moments where they wonder if they're really enough, or if they won't be left behind. Just because you feel that to a deeper extent than most doesn't mean that there's something awful about you."
The air felt trapped in his lungs as his mind spun to take in what she was saying. He knew she had forgiven him, and a part of him had been on the way to accepting that. And while he could see her point, he wasn't quite ready to fully let go of that particular guilt just yet.
"I'll...think about it. I promise," he added, at her expression.
"Alright, if you promise. I just don't want you believing badly of yourself, or thinking I think the same."
"That can go both ways, you know," he said, pulling her back to him.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.
"I noticed it during the session. You've always had this barmy idea-don't look at me like that, it is-that the only good point you have is your brains, and that people either want to use them, or are scared of them."
It was her turn to shift uncomfortably. "Well. Yes. It's generally the case, when you pair it with my...overbearing nature. Even you didn't like me at first."
"No, I didn't very much. But I didn't know you then. You can come across pretty hard, and you don't open up much for awhile. And yeah, you can nag a fair bit and drive me mad. But Hermione, you're more than a study guide. You care about a lot of things, and I love how passionate you are about them-especially since I'm one of them! You're interesting and fun, and just...just a good person to be with, even when we aren't doing anything at all. And even if I never needed your help with another problem, which, let's be honest, I will, I would still need you and want you in my life."
Hermione squeezed her arms around him, releasing a shaky breath. She knew Ron loved her, but she hadn't realized how much she actually needed to hear that. Aside from her parents, she had spent her formative years trying to prove herself (still had to, when it came to work), and it was such a relief that she didn't have to do that with Ron. Ron valued her intelligence, but he didn't think that was all there was to her. She didn't have to be a constant source of useful answers to keep his attention.
"You know that also goes both ways, right? Not the nagging, and things like that. I mean..." She fumbled around, trying to find the right words. "You've always had this need to be something; to prove yourself. And Ron, you have so many wonderful qualities that I know you could go in several directions and be a success at any of them, and I will be incredibly proud of you. But you need to know...you don't have to. If, at some point, you decide you want to do nothing but-but build gnome houses for Wizarding gardens, that would be fine with me. You don't have to live up to some arbitrary standard. I'm more interested in the person you are than what you do, and as long as that doesn't change, I don't really care about anything else."
A peace eased its way into his heart. Oh, he knew that Hermione wasn't the type to demand that he be rich and famous, with the 'right' job with the 'right' people. But knowing that if he changed his mind fifteen or twenty years down the line, and if he found something he really enjoyed that might not be glamorous, that she'd support him anyway and not be disappointed...it took a lot of weight off. He hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head.
"Glad to hear it. 'Course, I still plan on passing my exams, but I am glad to know you won't be ashamed of me if I end up being, I dunno, a janitor at the Ministry."
Hermione rolled back to look at him. "Ron, I love you dearly, but I don't think a career in cleaning would suit you."
"You know, not too long ago, I might have been slightly hurt by that, but...I think things like that are getting easier for me to laugh about, and really mean it as a joke," he said, consideringly.
"Maybe it helps to know that if you really are upset, you can say so and be taken seriously?" She asked.
"Yeah. It's like...I don't feel like I have to fight so hard for it. I can just say it without it having to turn into a big deal."
"Merlin, I wish we had done this when we were fifteen!" Hermione said, cracking a yawn.
"Hm. Something tells me we wouldn't have been ready to deal with something like this then, but I know what you mean."
The events of the weekend began to catch up to them, and now that their bodies were no longer being supported by magical means, sleepiness was weighing heavily on them. Both lay there in the dark, thoughts floating floating through their heads.
"Hermione?"
"Hm?"
"What do we do now?"
"Well, I imagine we should probably get some sleep. A lot has happened, and I don't think that personally I could process anymore tonight-unless there was something else you needed to talk about?"
No, things were pretty well covered. They knew where they stood on everything, even if they hadn't talked through every detail. Ron didn't imagine he'd be able to keep everything straight if they tried that.
"No, that's not what I-I meant, tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. What do we do now?"
"Oh. I think...I think we have to take that day by day. We've learned a lot, and at first, it will probably be easy. Then life will happen, and we'll actually have to use what we know. I don't think there's really anything we can do until something happens, aside from making sure we talk about things more."
"Do you think we can do this?" He asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it anyway.
In the dark, Hermione smiled. "Ron, we've defeated giant chess sets, and been turned into a cat. We've had our leg broken by an escaped convict, and teeth cursed to freakish proportions."
"We've belched up slugs and been locked into the toilet with a troll," Ron added, getting into the spirit of things. "We've been chained under water, and dueled with Death Eaters."
"We've taken a wrong turn, and found our way back; been tortured and suffered loss. We've overcome our own stubbornness, pride-"
"Jealousy and poor self-esteem-"
"To get where we are today. With how much we want this, and what we're willing to put into it, do you really think there's any way we couldn't do this?"
Could they? They had overcome worse odd when they were kids, and although they had come out of it bruised and battered, they had still come out of it. And their love was strong, that was true, but that was only part of what would get them through. The main thing was, they had decided to. They had made the choice that what they had was worth working for, no matter how much work that might be. And they knew they were just as important to the other one, and that they were just as invested in the commitment.
He smiled, curling around her. "Hermione, it's the two of us...whatever comes next, we've already won."
Delight at his confidence filled her, moments before sleep claimed them both, each of them falling into dreams tangled with the lessons of the past, blending with hope for the future.
Between two sleeping bodies, two hands reached out...and connected.
Story note time! I know this last chapter will have a lot of you questioning certain points/choices, so I'll try to clear them up.
Wait, why didn't they talk about everything? Shouldn't they have started at the beginning and discussed their feelings about everything? At first glance, you'd think so. But really, that would make the entire story pretty redundant; we had 48 chapters of them learning exactly how the other felt about things, and a perfectly linear felt stilted and forced (yes, i wrote it out), rather like two newscasters. "And now back to Bob, for our highlights on fourth year." "Top 3 Lessons of 1996? The Answers Might Surprise You!" it didn't feel human or real.
Okay, but the sex. Surely there was no reason for a sex scene other than cheap thrills, when they should have been focusing on important stuff? I thought long and hard about this part, believe me. I love a good PWP, but I also know there are times when sex is better left out of things. I included it for two reasons. 1. This wasn't a lust fueled shag. They had just dealt with a concentration of 20+ years of emotional turbulence, and both would be seeking to establish connections, and to express themselves as thoroughly as possible. Ron and Hermione are two very passionate people, and that's a typical reaction. 2. I also wanted to bring up how they had also used it as a method of avoidance in the past, and to highlight how they were now aware of that fact, and that it would now be used as its more healthy purposes in the future.
But not much happened! They talked, and a few small things looked like they changed, but not a lot! Didn't you just build up and cop out? Nope. That's the point, actually. Things like that don't have a huge and immediate change. Real change can take months, or even years, to take full effect. It's like when you make a New Year's resolution to lose weight. Just because you make that resolution doesn't mean you drop 50 pounds in one day. The first day is easy, and you feel good about yourself. But learning new habits and sticking to them is harder than that, and there will be days you fall back. And, as I've said, I fully intend to show them at various points on their journey, but a neatly wrapped solution wouldn't have been a realistic ending.
