Saying The Words

Author's Note: Originally published on July 18, 2021

Exhaustion had left them nearly dead on their feet, the adrenaline rush of battle long gone, leaving two weary teenagers in its wake. Hand-in-hand, Ron and Hermione shuffled up the stairs and collapsed into his bed in Gryffindor tower, unwilling to separate even for a moment.

His arm wrapped around her protectively, her head rested on his chest, tucked perfectly under his chin as they escaped into a cocoon of safety. They had lived. They had a future, hopefully together.

Ron stared up at the ceiling of his four poster, building up his courage while cradling her small body to him. Suddenly energized, he couldn't contain himself any longer and the words started spilling out of him at a breathless pace. Words he'd wanted to say to her for years. How much she meant to him, how much he admired her, and how long he'd held back from revealing his true feelings.

How much he loved her.

Never in his life had he been so eloquent and passionate, his voice low in the empty room. He'd practiced the speech in his head a thousand times, but it came out even better than expected. His maturity and the growth he'd made were on full display, spurred on by wanting to be better. Both for himself and for her.

He finally stopped, his chest pounding. He felt as light as feather, the burden of years of hidden feelings finally off his chest. He awaited her response, but all that came was a snore.

She clearly hadn't heard a word and must have fallen asleep almost instantly, surrounded by his warmth. They had been through a lot, after all.

"Bloody buggering fuck," he whispered under his breath.

He silently cursed a few more times and closed his eyes, groaning despondently under his breath as the deep tiredness and disappointment claimed him.

He'd have to confess his feelings one more time—when she was actually awake to hear them.

The next morning, everything changed. The somber mood around the castle put a hold on any romance, the weight of everything that had happened, the mourning and loss, took priority.

The next few days were split between Hogwarts and The Burrow. Everyone was suffering, not only from Fred's death, but those of their friends and schoolmates. They threw themselves into work in both locales, the only viable way they had not to sink into their collective sadness.

Mrs. Weasley insisted that the usual sleeping arrangements remained, and no one was in the mood to challenge the grieving mother, no matter how old-fashioned it seemed. They all accepted it, even Ron, who was aching to spend more time with Hermione so they could support each other through this difficult time.

Despite that, there were rare moments where they had a minute or two alone. Just as Ron was about to break into his speech again and tell Hermione everything he felt, they would get interrupted.

First it just seemed like bad luck, but every time it happened, Ron's frustrations increased. Whether it was Neville or McGonagall asking for their help with another task, or one of his siblings barging in at the exact wrong moment, it seemed like fate was working against him. Ron knew Hermione would want to retrieve her parents soon, and he needed to tell her before then. He desperately wanted to go with her, knowing she'd need his support.

After missing yet another a chance to tell her, when Ginny unceremoniously burst through the door of his Dad's shed to let them know breakfast was ready—stopping only to waggle her eyebrows at him as she dragged Hermione away to help her set the table—Ron's frustrations reached its peak. He would have to deal with his nosy family first.

With another long day of rebuilding Hogwarts over, the family Flooed into The Burrow's living room late in the evening, one-by-one dropping into whatever seating was available. Arthur and Molly bade their children good night and went straight upstairs.

"Where's Hermione?" Ginny asked as she flopped her head onto Harry's shoulder, stifling a yawn.

"She's still helping Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing." Ron replied. "You can go to sleep if you want, Ginny. I'm sure she'll be back late, so I'll wait up for her."

"Can't sleep without a good night kiss?" George teased innocently, causing his siblings to snigger, easing the tension of the long, tough day.

Ron rounded on his family. "I haven't had a second of privacy with her, thanks to all of you." He stopped to run a hand through his hair. "Are you purposely trying to mess this up for me?"

"No, but it is rather funny. Besides, we know why you want some private time," Charlie responded, making a kissing face.

Ron sputtered, his ears turning red with fury, his frustrations from the morning returning and boiling over. "It isn't like that."

Percy pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It's perfectly fine, Ron. We were all young once."

Ron clenched his fists. "IT. IS. NOT. LIKE. THAT."

"Then what is it?" Ginny asked.

"I WANT TO TELL HERMIONE I'M IN LOVE WITH HER!"

He hadn't heard the whoosh of the Floo behind him during his outburst, but Hermione's squeaked gasp was unmistakable in the dead silent room.

Ron was a statue, unwilling to turn around and make things even more awkward, certain that he'd said far too much. That he'd ruined things with his effing feelings. His siblings stared at him sympathetically, as if they weren't to blame for the whole debacle.

Arthur suddenly cleared his throat from the landing of the stairs. "Upstairs to bed, you lot. Give your brother some privacy."

Fleur stopped to give him an encouraging pat on the shoulder, before grabbing Bill's hand. Harry gave him a shrug and Ginny had a huge grin on her face as Ron watched them all ascend, leaving him and Hermione alone.

Ron took a deep breath and steeled himself, before turning around to face her. Even though she looked completely knackered, she was the most beautiful girl in the world to him.

"Hi."

"Hi," she replied.

"So, er, you heard that."

"Yes." Hermione's eyes searched his, her voice low. "Did you mean it?"

He stared back, trying to get any kind of indication of what she was thinking or feeling. She seemed frozen, but her eyes betrayed her vulnerability as they teared up. He just wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let go.

"I, um, yeah. I did mean it. That wasn't how I wanted to tell you, but I meant it. I had a whole speech prepared and everything."

"You did?"

He nodded slowly, still unsure of her reaction to such a big step. "I said it the night after the battle, but you fell asleep and didn't hear a word of it."

Before he could react, Hermione was in his arms, kissing every inch of his face.

"I love you, Ron. I love you," she kept repeating. So caught up in their embrace, they failed to register the shouts and catcalls from the now packed landing.

She gripped him fiercely as he hugged her to him, his face buried in her bushy hair as he sported a giant smile on his face.

"Alright, show's over."

Bill steered the family back up the stairs, leaving them in silence.

Ron couldn't help but whisper in Hermione's ear. "Do you think I'll ever get to snog you without an audience?"

"Now seems as good a time as any."