Outtake: Conversations in the Dark
December 19, 1998
The platform was more crowded than it usually was when students returned for the Christmas holidays—Ron chalked this up to the slightly-larger-than-usual seventh year class and it being the first Christmas since the fall of Voldemort. People were ready to celebrate and no longer afraid to travel.
He craned his head over the crowd, too preoccupied to notice the people that whispered around him and Harry. He was also too distracted to even feign politeness towards those bold enough to attempt to shake his hand and thank him.
"Do you see them?" Harry asked his taller friend.
"No, not—" Ron started. Before he could finish, he was being crushed. Hermione had sprinted towards him, her bushy hair flying behind her. Ron instinctively reached for his wand before he sunk into the embrace of Hermione's kiss. He moved his hands up into her hair and pressed her closer to him, tasting her, taking her all in.
"Always the hypocrite," Ginny murmured towards her brother as she made her way over to the trio and snaked an arm around Harry's waist as Harry kissed the top of her head. Ron flashed his sister a rude hand gesture as he and Hermione pulled apart.
Hermione pushed Ron's hand down and sent him a look that reminded him of his mother. "There's younger students around," she chastised. Ron ignored her as he reached for her hand.
"Let's get out of here," Harry said as he lifted Ginny's bag she had brought home for break.
"Yes, let's" Ginny said as she reached for her wand. "I've been craving mum's mince pies all month. Here, I'll take Crookshanks," Ginny said as she bent down and grabbed the cat's carrier, sending her brother a conspiratorial grin.
"Erm—okay," Hermione said with a confused look. She also reached for her wand, but Ron gave his head a small nearly imperceptible shake as he shouldered Hermione's bag. She slipped her wand back into her jean's pocket. They watched Harry and Ginny disappear with a crack. Ron waited to speak until he knew the other two were gone.
"We're not going to the Burrow," he said as he took Hermione's hand and headed towards the brick wall that separated Platform Nine and Three Quarters from the muggle world.
"But then, where are we going?" Hermione pondered aloud.
Ron sighed. "It's a surprise," he said as they passed through the wall together.
"But what about your mum, what about everyone at the Burrow," Hermione asked as she pulled her scarf out of her jacket. Muggles bustled about with shopping bags, Christmas music leaked from various shops and there was an undeniably festive mood that permeated the air.
"We'll see them tomorrow," Ron gruffed as he led Hermione towards Platform One.
"But what do they think we're doing?" Hermione asked, blushing slightly.
"Everyone knows we're not joining them until tomorrow," Ron said as he led his way to the taxi rank.
Hermione seemed to consider this for a moment, so much so that she was rather oblivious to where Ron was leading her. "These are taxis," she pointed out after Ron had spoken to the attendant and returned to her.
"Yes, you really are the brightest witch I know," Ron said with a small smile.
Hermione's eyes narrowed towards him but she could not hide the smile that was creeping across her face. "Why are we taking a taxi?"
"What don't you understand about the word 'surprise'?" Ron asked her.
"But a taxi—" Hermione started.
Ron shrugged. "I thought it would be a nice change." He did not dare tell Hermione that he and Harry had practiced getting a taxi three times over the last month.
She continued to consider Ron as their cab pulled up to the curb. Ron handed her bag to the muggle driver and told him the address, then he opened the door to the backseat for Hermione. "This feels a bit like kidnapping," she whispered to Ron as he slid into the back seat next to her.
"Does it?" he asked absentmindedly as he patted his trousers pocket to reassure himself that he had the muggle paper money there.
Ron watched London speed by through the cab's window. He could feel Hermione's eyes upon him, regarding him, boring into him, trying to figure out what was going on. Ron smiled. He could practically taste her frustration growing as each moment ticked by.
They pulled up to the hotel. "This is a hotel," he mocked as he took her hand and helped her out of the cab. She glared at him.
"I can see that, what are we doing at a muggle hotel?" Hermione asked in a whisper as the cab driver handed Ron her bag. Ron pressed the muggle money into the cab driver's hand. Hermione watched the exchange unable to hide her fascination.
"You'll see," Ron told her as he took her hand and guided her through the front entrance. They bypassed the front desk. Ron had checked in earlier that day, before he and Harry had headed to King's Cross to pick up the girls.
They made their way to the lift, Hermione reached for the call button, but Ron beat her to it. They boarded the elevator. Once alone, Hermione turned toward Ron with an increasingly indignant expression. "Ron, what's—"
He pressed a finger gently on her lips then leaned toward her. "Patience," he whispered against her as he pressed his own lips against hers. He felt her let out a frustrated sigh against him.
The lift stopped and the doors opened. Ron carried her bag down the hall, allowing Hermione to follow him. He inserted the key into the door and opened, taking a steadying breath as their room came into view.
Hermione was speechless as she followed him into the room. He thought for a moment that the rose petals may have been overkill, but as he watched her stunned silence, he decided it had been worth it.
The bedside lamps filled the room with a soft, warm light. The blinds were drawn, but a sliver of bright afternoon sun shone onto the bed. The walls were covered in a beige floral paper and the carpet was thick and lush. The room was primarily dominated by a double bed with nightstands in rich mahogany on either side. A bottle of champagne chilled in an ice bucket on a small bench at the foot of the bed.
"I figured a night away together could be a sort Christmas present to ourselves," Ron said quietly as he set Hermione's bag next to his on the luggage rack. He took off his coat and tossed it over his bag then shoved his hands into his pockets.
Hermione, still at a loss for words, ran her hand along the crisp beige bed linens, fingering a stray red rose petal. "A night away. . . alone," she said quietly, shyly.
Ron did not meet her gaze. "The Burrow's been a bit overcrowded as of late," he said as he grabbed one of the stemmed glasses from the bedside table and moved towards the champagne at the end of the bed. "Shall we?"
Hermione nodded towards him. The gentle pop of the champagne bottle seemed to reverberate through the room.
"Why aren't we at the Leaky Cauldron or something," Hermione asked as Ron handed her a full champagne flute. She shrugged out of her coat before accepting the glass. Ron took her jacket from her and draped it atop his.
"We're a bit recognizable at the moment," Ron laughed gently. "And—erm—I thought we might want a bit more privacy. . ." he trailed off.
"Privacy," Hermione reiterated quietly as she took a large sip of her champagne.
"Yes," Ron said. Hermione closed her eyes as she swallowed the fizzing golden liquid. Ron watched her carefully.
"And, we—erm—have this room for. . .?" she gestured absently around, not meeting Ron's eyes.
"One night," Ron supplied. When she looked up at him, a questioning look on her face, Ron explained. "Erm—yeah, mum's expecting us back at the Burrow tomorrow."
Hermione nodded, turning her gaze away from Ron. The silence stretched on.
"Are you sure you don't want to see your parents this break?" Ron asked after he downed his own glass of champagne. Perhaps changing the subject would alleviate this growing tension between them.
Hermione ignored him. "I'm going to use the loo," she said suddenly.
"Erm—okay," Ron said as he watched her set her now empty glass on the bedside table. She slipped her shoes off her feet and took her wand out of her jeans pocket, placing it next to her empty glass. Before she opened the bathroom door she unzipped her bag and grabbed something.
Ron sat down on the bed after refilling both of their champagne flutes and placing his wand on the bedside table nearest him. He bent down and undid the laces on his own shoes. He heard the water run in the bathroom, Hermione came out a few moments later.
She looked different—her cheeks looked brighter, her eyes more awake somehow.
Hermione walked over to him. Ron swallowed. She took his head in her hands, gently rubbing her thumbs against his temples. Ron widened his knees and she slid into the space he created, pushing her body against his. She looked into his eyes, searching. Then, she kissed him, deeply.
Ron snaked his hands around her waist and pulled her body closer to his. He leaned his back so he was laying flat on the bed, taking her with him.
Her hair fell in his face, tickling his cheeks and creating a rather unpleasant sensation. "'Mione," he breathed against her.
"Hm," she mumbled, attempting not to break their kiss.
He twisted his body so that she gently slid off of him. They were face to face in the bed now, both lying on their sides. She looked up at him through her eyelashes as she bit her lip and pushed her hair out of her face. He reached towards her and helped her smooth her hair back. Then he leaned forward so their lips could meet once again.
The kiss grew deeper than the two of them had ever shared before. The summer after the Battle of Hogwarts had been—well, it had been painful. The gravity of the losses they had suffered seemed to sneak its way into all of their stolen kisses around the Burrow. Their time together was punctuated by funerals, intense moments of pain and loss. The times they connected—physically—was all about providing comfort, not getting to know one another. Privacy had been hard to come by during those first few weeks as well. People wanted to hear about what had gone on during the year they had been away, and official-looking visitors or impatient journalists were not rare.
Then, Hermione had left for Australia. They had rowed about her leaving, about her going alone. In the short time between her return and her leaving for Hogwarts, Ron's days had been filled with Auror training. He channeled his energy into focusing on rounding up the last of the Death Eaters and was perfectly happy to spend his free time sharing butterbeers with Neville and Harry at the Leaky after work.
Hermione reached for the hem of his tee-shirt, raising the material so that her hands could find the waistband of his trousers.
With effortful restraint, Ron pulled back from her. He took a steady breath and opened his eyes. Hermione was staring at him, her brown eyes wide and questioning.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," Hermione breathed back.
"We don't have to—"
"I know."
"It wasn't my plan that we would—"
Hermione looked at him and cocked an eyebrow. Her face held the same expression that she wore back at Hogwarts when Ron would promise that he would finish his schoolwork after one more game of chess with Harry.
"Okay, I'll admit, I entertained the possibility," Ron said sheepishly.
"I'm not feeling manipulated into doing anything right now," Hermione said defiantly. "I missed you, and now I want you," she said shyly as she looked down.
Ron swallowed. He rose to his knees and pulled his shirt off his shoulders and then, tugging at the collar, he removed his cotton tee shirt.
Hermione also rose to her knees. She pulled at the hem of her jumper and rolled it over her head.
They stared at one another, drinking each other in. Hermione reached her hand behind her back and unclasped her bra. She pushed the straps off her pale shoulders and let the garment fall off her body. Ron looked at her hungrily.
He moved towards her, pulling her close and kissing her as he splayed his hands along her naked back, reveling in her warmth. He pressed her body against his, amazed at how impossibly transcendent the feel of her nakedness felt against his chest.
Hermione's hands pulled at his shoulders, and she guided him back towards her as she sunk back into the bed to rest her head upon the pillow.
"Ouch!" Both exclaimed simultaneously. In their haste, they had knocked their foreheads together as they both fell back. They looked at each other and laughed.
"Sorry!" Ron said.
"My fault!" Hermione replied.
"Here, get comfortable," Ron said as he shifted back, still straddling Hermione but lifting some of his weight off of her. She wiggled underneath him as she got comfortable, rubbing the spot where they had collided gently. "You okay," Ron asked. When Hermione nodded, he leaned back down towards her and kissed her as he supported himself on his arms.
Ron could feel her hands working between them, fiddling with her jeans button. He sat back again, pushing himself onto his knees.
"You sure?" He looked at her.
"Ron, yes," she said, the slightest trace of annoyance in her voice. Ron watched her struggle as she tried to wiggle out of her jeans. "Help me," she ordered with just a hint of frustration.
"Oh yeah," Ron said as he slid off her.
As she kicked her feet out of her jeans, she turned towards Ron. "Well you can take yours off," she said.
"Bossy," Ron said with a smile as he undid his own fly.
Hermione turned her head to look at him, a retort at the ready. But when she saw his grin, she laughed. "Like you'd have me any other way," she said as Ron joined in with her laughter and kicked out of his own trousers.
"I'll have you any way you're offering," Ron said as he reached for his wand and went to get back atop of her.
He found Hermione reaching for her own wand.
"I've got it," Ron mumbled.
"No, Ron, let me," Hermione said as she fumbled for her wand.
"No, I've practiced," Ron replied, doing his best not to sound whiny.
Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "Really, like you practiced spells in school.
"No, not like I practiced spells in school."
"This is one I'd prefer not go wrong," Hermione mumbled but she set her wand down
Ron quickly mumbled an incantation then rolled away from Hermione to place his wand on the bedside table . "It's not going to go wrong," he murmured defensively.
Hermione placed her arm on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, you're right." She pressed her fingers gently into his shoulder, encouraging him to roll back over towards her. "Come on," she guided gently. "I'm just waiting here, for you." She attempted to sound seductive, but she ended up just giggling at herself.
Ron turned to face her. "Wanting me?" he teased.
"Yes, wanting you," she said, serious now.
Ron climbed atop of her, leaning forward to kiss her deeply. They positioned their hips closer to one another. "Are you sure?" Ron asked breathily.
"For the third time, yes. Ron, I want this, I want to be with you. You're—well, you're my best friend and this just feels right, and I lo—" she was cut off my Ron's kiss.
Later, when the sliver of sunlight peeking through the curtains had long since disappeared and the bedside lamps had been switched off, Ron was gently rubbing circles on her bare shoulder as she leaned against him. Their legs were tangled in a mess of limbs under the sheets. They had not bothered to find their clothes and whatever they had packed for pajamas laid forgotten in their bags. Hermione was tracing launguid lines up and down his right arm, mimicking Ron's yawns whenever she felt his chest expand deeply beneath her. Both were on the verge of sleep.
Suddenly, Hermione's body went tense and her dancing fingers froze.
"Crookshanks!"
"Come again," Ron sleepily.
"Ginny took Crookshanks from King's Cross! You had co-conspirators," Hermione said accusingly. She sat up and looked at Ron, his pale face illuminated by the soft glow of Christmas lights outside.
Ron grinned at her. "Is that what you've been trying to figure out all night, the exact architecture of my surprise?"
"Well—no, not all night," Hermione said, a blush creeping up her cheeks as she looked down at her lap.
"Yes, I had some 'co-conspirators,'" Ron said after a pause. He looked a bit sheepish. "Someone had to help me figure out all the muggle stuff," he said with a shrug.
Hermione seemed to think about this for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip. After a moment, she turned around and reclaimed her spot in the crook of Ron's arm. "I have one critique of this surprise," she said.
"Oh, really," Ron laughed as he resumed tracing circles on her shoulder, marveling at the feel of her bare skin under his hands.
"Just one night," she emphasized.
Ron laughed. "It was hard enough convincing my mum that she'd have to wait an extra day to see you."
"Why?" Hermione asked.
Ron laughed again. "Really?" He could feel her head nod against his arm. "She's missed you! My whole family has." Ron awkwardly tried to meet Hermione's gaze by twisting towards her. "Mum considers you one of us, you're like a daughter to her," Ron said quietly.
Hermione seemed to consider this for a moment. "Oh," she finally said quietly.
Ron settled his head back against the pillow. "For how brilliant you are, you're quite oblivious as to how much those around you love you," he said as he yawned. Hermione listened to his breathing change as he fell asleep as she blinked back tears.
She was having a hard time falling asleep as she thought about what he had said and reminisced about what they had just shared, but eventually, surrounded by Ron's warmth, she too fell asleep.