A/N: Hope you enjoy! This has nothing to do with any of my other stories and is just another version of Ron and Hermione after the battle. I know there are a lot but I can never get enough of them.
It was difficult to feel calm. Impossible to truly feel safe. They were such foreign concepts now.
Would it come with time? Did she have to force it somehow? Fake it until it was real?
The battle had only ended an hour ago. The war too, she supposed. But there were Death Eaters who had escaped and others who hadn't even been at Hogwarts that night. It was fine to not feel completely at ease yet, right?
Hermione was pulled from her internal uncertainties by Ron responding positively to whatever Harry had just asked. She gave a slight jump when Ron's hand barely brushed her arm. Her eyes snapped to his as Harry began to lead the way out of the Headmaster's office.
"What?" she asked softly. "What did he say?"
"He asked if we wouldn't mind coming with him to return the wand before heading up to Gryffindor Tower," said Ron, resting his hand on her upper arm and looking at her with a concerned expression. "You all right?"
It took a moment for her to emerge from the consuming depths of his stormy blue eyes, but she managed to nod, even though she wasn't all right. Not even slightly.
They followed Harry down the stairs and through the castle to the Entrance Hall. Even though there was grief and destruction wherever they looked, the moments where people saw Harry and smiles and looks of gratitude broke out across their faces made things seem a little brighter. The battle really had been won. The war was over. And even though there would still be grief and destruction tomorrow, they'd rebuild and repair as best they could.
Hermione felt her first flicker of peace as they stepped out of the castle and onto the grounds. It was early in the morning and a bit cool, but refreshing. It managed to calm the ache in her bones and muscles that she hadn't really registered before then. As nice as the crisp breeze and sunshine were, it would be heavenly to fall into the familiar four poster beds waiting for them in Gryffindor Tower.
And then dread began to fill her as realization sunk in.
She'd just spent months on the run in a tent with her best friends. Always knowing where they were and that they were okay. Well, with the exception of the time that Ron had been separated from them. That's how she'd come to think of it now. Not that he'd left, but that in the heat of the moment, he and Harry had both acted rash, and it had caused Ron to be separated from them for far longer than he ever should have been.
But the idea of going up separate staircases in Gryffindor tower in the very near future caused any peace she had to flee her. It had been hard enough to sleep apart from them when they were at Shell Cottage, but Hermione had taken to leaving the bedroom door open so she could at least hear Ron's familiar soft snores drifting up the stairs. She wouldn't be able to do that now. There'd be no way for her to know they were still there. Still breathing.
They were almost to Dumbledore's tomb, and it was panic as well as a desire to not lose her nerve that had Hermione grabbing Ron's arm and stopping in her tracks. He only took one more step before stumbling a bit as her grip tightened. His eyes went from confused to concerned as he turned to look at her.
Oh, she probably looked such a mess. And there was no way he couldn't tell she was panicking.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked softly, placing his hands comfortingly on her shoulders. The feel of him running soothing circles against her collarbone with his thumbs had her relaxing enough to voice her fears.
"I...I can't go to the dorm."
Ron looked at her in confusion. "Why not?"
"I just…" she was shaking her head and willing tears not to fall. "I just can't be alone."
Realization filled Ron's face. "Oh, right. Of course. Do you want us to find Ginny?"
Hermione shook her head vigorously. "No. I mean, we can, but…"
She knew there were definitely tears in her eyes now. And she was probably looking at him far too desperately as she rested her hands on his chest and gripped his sweater. "I'm just still so scared, Ron," she choked out. "I can't just…I have to know you're all right. I have to know you're still there and you're fine and you're breathing. Both of you."
It was easy to admit to herself that, while her last statement was true, she'd mostly tagged it on there at the end so she wouldn't sound too obsessive. But she needn't have worried. He was looking at her tenderly and with something close to relief as he moved a hand to delicately cup her cheek and opened his mouth to respond.
"Ron, can you give me a hand?"
Damn it, Harry, she couldn't help cursing internally. How did he always have the worst timing?
After giving her an apologetic look, Ron went to join Harry, who'd reached the tomb. Hermione stood back, holding herself and watching as Ron gave a quick swish and flick with his wand so the tomb opened and Harry was able to place the Elder Wand back beside their former Headmaster. Hermione let out a shaky sigh and wiped at her face to rid it of any tears that might have fallen, but it was probably pointless. Her face was covered in dirt and grime and there were no doubt countless tear tracks down it already.
She felt relatively composed as Ron and Harry made their way back towards her, and she turned and fell in step with them as they began to head back to the castle. Anxiety was still flowing through her. Even though she'd been able to express her fears to Ron, she had no clue what would happen when they reached Gryffindor Tower.
They were in the Entrance Hall again and about to head that way, when someone calling for Ron had them stopping.
"Mum and Dad are resting in one of the teacher's quarters," said Ginny as she approached them. And Hermione had to note that Ginny was having a hard time focusing on her brother, her eyes constantly flickering to his best friend instead. "Are you lot headed up to the dorms?"
"Yeah," said Ron. "Where's George?"
"In the Great Hall with Percy," said Ginny. "Bill and Fleur are helping Madam Pomfrey and Charlie is helping with the…"
Her eyes grew glassy with tears. She didn't have to say it. None of them wanted to. People had lost their lives. That didn't seem as hard to say. But to say that they had to take care of the dead? That made it seem more real. Actual people were dead. People they loved and cared for were part of a number that made up the dead.
It was still too hard to think about. Too soon to deal with it.
"I'll grab George and Percy and we'll be right behind you," said Ginny, and then she was heading back to the Great Hall before they could have a chance to argue. Not that they were going to. But Harry had taken a small step forward as she turned, only to seem to reconsider and resume their walk towards the tower.
Hermione found herself wondering how selfish it was of her that the prospect of Ron's siblings joining them left her feeling disheartened. She loved all the Weasleys, but was their presence going to have Ron holding back? Before Harry had interrupted, she'd been sure he'd understood her and knew what she needed and wanted without having to say it. But that didn't mean he'd make it happen.
She knew she didn't exactly need his permission, but she still wanted it. Things were still so fresh and new and he'd just lost a brother. Maybe he needed some space. Maybe he didn't actually need her the way she needed him.
Relief filled Hermione a moment later when Ron reached out and took her hand in his as they approached the entrance to the common room. She looked up at him as Harry had a brief discussion with the Fat Lady, who was more than happy to let them in after first praising Harry's heroics rather obnoxiously. As she locked eyes with Ron, it was hard for Hermione to clearly read what he was thinking or even feeling by the way he looked at her. But there was definite warmth in his gaze, a kind that she'd only started to really see from him over the past year and that he didn't let her catch him giving her very often. She squeezed his hand before he pulled her through the portrait hole behind him.
It was a relief to find the common room empty. And while they could've taken a moment to look around and maybe even sit by the fire like they'd done many times before, Harry made straight for the stairs that led to the boys' dormitories. Hermione only had one second to panic before Ron was following. And seeing as he still kept a firm hold on her hand, she was able to follow with a sigh of relief.
If Harry found it odd that she was there, he didn't let on, merely glancing at their still joined hands when they entered the room and smiling softly before heading towards his old bed.
Of the five beds in the seventh year boys' dorm, only one other was occupied. The curtains weren't drawn, so they had a clear view of Seamus sitting up against the headboard, his arms propped on his knees and tear tracks on his face as he took them in.
"Never thought I'd see you in the boys' dorms, Granger," he said, the effort at humor failing due to the anguish in his voice. None of them said anything, not knowing what to say, but Hermione had a feeling his grief had to do with her former dorm mate lying severely injured in the hospital wing. Seamus didn't seem to mind their silence. He merely closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headboard.
"You have your bag?" Harry asked softly as he turned to Hermione. She nodded and pulled it out from the sock she'd stuffed it in, just like she'd done before they'd been taken to Malfoy Manor.
"I'm surprised I didn't lose it, actually," she said, moving over to set it along with her wand on Ron's bed as she dug through it. "Even with the sticking charm."
She'd produced sleepwear for each of them moments later, thankfully clean from their time spent at Shell Cottage.
"There should be soap and towels in the bathroom," said Ron as he took the flannel pants and t-shirt Hermione handed him.
"You go ahead, mate," said Harry. "I'm going to see if Kreacher can get some sandwiches delivered up here."
Ron's whole body gave a sigh of relief and he smiled as best he could. "That sounds brilliant. Blimey, I don't think I realized how hungry I was till just now."
Harry returned his meager smile, and then Ron turned his attention to Hermione. "There's a few showers but not a lot of privacy in there," he said softly and with a nod towards the bathroom. "Did you want to go first?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, go ahead. I have a feeling we're going to need some healing potions and it might take me a minute to find them all."
Ron nodded, lingered a moment while his eyes searched her face, and then almost reluctantly left her side.
Harry had summoned and talked with a rather emotional Kreacher - who promised to have all sorts of food sent up immediately - and Hermione was nearly done with her search for potions when the dormitory door opened and George and Percy walked in. They both looked exhausted, but Percy's eyes widened when they landed on Hermione.
"Oh, bloody hell," Percy grumbled, running his hands over his tired face. George gave something close to an amused snort.
"Told you," he said, before claiming one of the unoccupied beds and collapsing on it.
"What?" asked Harry, looking uncertainly between Percy and Hermione as he paused on his way to the bathroom. Percy grimaced.
"Ginny was insisting she come up here with us," Percy admitted. "But I told her to go to the girls' dorm instead."
Hermione arched an eyebrow. "And she actually went willingly?"
Percy grimaced again. "I made the argument that you were likely to be up there by yourself and could use the company."
Even though she wasn't sorry in the least for her choice of sleeping location, Hermione gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry."
Percy shrugged. "Not much we can do about it now."
He had a point. None of the boys could get into the girls' dormitories. So unless Hermione went to get Ginny herself - which she didn't foresee her brothers suggesting - no one could tell her where they were. Then again, it wasn't like she couldn't figure it out. And Hermione could only assume that they hadn't seen the last of Ginny for the evening. Or morning, rather.
Harry went to join Ron in the bathroom, and Hermione was thankful that their absence didn't mean she was alone. Rather than join them in washing up, George pulled the curtains closed on his bed, leaving Percy to sit on the last remaining bed and stare uncertainly at the drapes his brother had just disappeared behind.
"I've got some more of Ron's pajamas," Hermione said a bit uncertainly. "If you'd like to wash up."
Percy managed to pull his gaze away from George's bed, giving Hermione a nod and a small smile. She quickly found another pair of sleep trousers and a t-shirt for Percy, who managed to crack a sad smile and said the faded blue cotton pants had actually been a Christmas gift that he'd received himself a number of years ago. There were slight tears in his eyes that Hermione assumed came partly from his remorse for the way things had been between him and his family up until the night before.
And now his family wasn't even whole anymore.
"I can't even remember the last time we all had Christmas together," he choked out. "And now..."
Pain filled Hermione's already aching heart and tears welled in her eyes. She hugged him instinctively, and Percy was quick to hold her back tightly, but only for a moment. He took a few deep breaths and pulled himself together, stepping back to give her a watery smile.
"Thanks," he said, indicating the clothes she'd given him. "And thanks for taking care of Ron. And Harry, too. I know they're capable and remarkable wizards themselves, but I don't suspect we'd all be here without you."
Hermione smiled bashfully as she sat on Ron's bed. "We wouldn't be here without either of them either."
"I know," said Percy with a shrug as he wandered off towards the bathroom. "I'm just assuming Harry's going to get most of the well-deserved credit for this, so I figured you should get some too. Ron as well."
Hermione's smile turned grateful. "Thanks, Percy."
He gave her a nod before disappearing into the bathroom. It was only a few moments later that Ron emerged, his hair damp and his freckles once again distinguishable now that they were no longer coated in grime. He gave Hermione a tired smile when he saw her sitting on his bed.
"You were right," he said while walking towards her. "I'm covered in scrapes and bruises."
Hermione grabbed the bottle of Dittany and the bruise paste and scooted further back onto the bed, patting the spot beside her and falling into a familiar rhythm from when she'd taken care of his arm after he'd been splinched. She was tempted to feel nervous, but having him in her sight again made her realize how on edge she'd been while he wasn't. There was really no point in acting shy right now.
And then he took off his shirt. And she had to remind herself to breathe. She'd seen him shirtless plenty of times over the last year. There was no reason to let it affect her now.
Except they were now on his bed in Gryffindor Tower. And she'd kissed him. So it didn't take much to let her imagination run wild anymore. Not when she had actual knowledge of what it was like.
"I fell on some rubble at one point," he said, sounding completely calm even as his ears turned red. Hermione nodded a bit absentmindedly as he sat and turned his back to her, the sight of his scrapes and bruises allowing her to focus.
By the time Harry came out of the bathroom, she was done with his back and had moved onto his arms, and a few platters of food and some pumpkin juice had shown up. Harry helped himself to the food and took a couple sandwiches over to Seamus, who mumbled a thanks as he took them before closing his curtains.
"Sorry you've had to wait, Hermione," said Harry as he sat on his bed and ate his own sandwich. "Percy should be done soon."
"It's fine," she assured him, her attention still focused on a scratch down the back of Ron's upper arm. It was impossible not to notice the healed skin on his shoulder from where she'd splinched him all those months ago. She couldn't help herself from brushing her fingers over it.
"It healed up pretty well, didn't it?" Ron asked, and Hermione pulled her hand away to look apologetically up at him.
"I'm still so sorry," she said, but Ron shook his head.
"You got us out of there alive, which is better than I could've done. I'll just remember how brilliant you are every time I look at it."
Hermione felt warmth rising to her cheeks at his sincere words. When had he become so sweet? Part of her knew he always had been, but it still managed to surprise her when it was directed at her.
She'd resumed her task and Percy had just emerged from the shower when the door swung open and Ginny walked in, her hair wet and braided and wearing a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt that she must've found in the girls' dormitory. A sigh of relief escaped her when she saw Hermione.
And then they all watched as she marched over to Harry's bed, sat down, grabbed his wand, and flicked it so the curtains flew shut around them. They barely had a chance to see Harry's eyes widen in fear as he glanced between her brothers before they were hidden from view. Ginny must've cast some sort of privacy spell as well, because no sound could be heard coming from behind the curtains.
They all sat there in awkward silence before Percy sighed and shook his head. "If he wasn't Harry Potter…" he grumbled. And then he made his way over to the bed he'd claimed, mumbling a brief "sleep well," to Ron and Hermione before closing his curtains too.
And that was when Hermione realized the only bed without curtains drawn around it was the one she was currently sitting on. With Ron.
It had crossed her mind that they could share a bed, but only briefly and in a wishful thinking sort of way. The fact that it was now most definitely the reality she faced was not something she'd prepared for.
Add to that the fact that he was half naked, and she was sure to be as red as a tomato at some point in the foreseeable future.
"I think I'll shower now," she said, standing a bit abruptly and handing Ron the potion. "Think you can handle the rest?"
She only waited long enough for Ron to nod, and then she grabbed the stack of her clothes sitting on his bed and hurried into the now empty bathroom.
Okay. She could do this. She broke into Gringotts and rode a dragon and destroyed a Horcrux. She could crawl into bed with her best friend and not make a fool of herself.
With a groan of misery, she quickly tore off her ruined clothes and turned on the hot water, the spray both soothing and painful as it cascaded around her. She checked as best she could for injuries, and was thankful to see that most had been contained to her arms and legs, though there was a rather nasty abrasion and bruise covering her right hip. At least she wouldn't need anyone to help her put anything on her back. Even though she was slightly disappointed by this too.
What was wrong with her? They'd just survived a horrific battle and a terrifying war, and she was thinking about a boy? To be fair, it wasn't just any boy, but still. Wasn't it selfish of her to be so preoccupied with how to act around him? To wonder what he was thinking? What he felt? What he wanted?
Bloody hell, there she went again. And now she was swearing like him too, even if it was internally.
Was it so wrong to think about these things? It was much nicer than all the fear and uncertainty she'd been living with for months and years. In a way, she still felt those same things, but as she settled into the comfort that they were safe and the war was over, they were beginning to come from a different source.
Even though he'd kissed her back, she had no idea where he stood. She supposed she could take a fairly good guess, but she'd assumed things with him before and been proven wrong. It felt like there would be a lot of risk involved if she did the same again, which was where the familiar fear and uncertainty came into play.
And she came to the conclusion that it was okay to be so preoccupied. Yes, they'd fought a battle and ended a war and they'd lost so much. Those things would definitely have to be dealt with both physically and emotionally. But they'd fought for a future for their world and for themselves, right? A future where no one could tell her that she was undeserving or less than others because of where she'd come from. Because of who she was. So why couldn't she start thinking about that future now?
There was no use denying that Ron Weasley and the future she saw for herself were significantly intertwined. It made sense that, now that a future was possible, her fears that it might not turn out the way she wanted were starting to surface.
With a resigned sigh, she went through the monotonous tasks of washing her hair and scrubbing her battered skin, shutting off the water after what was probably a longer time than she should've taken. But it was her final few moments to collect herself before facing whatever waited for her outside the bathroom.
She wrung out her hair with the towel as best she could before wrapping it around her. As she began looking through her stack of clothes for her clean pair of knickers, her eyes went wide in realization.
Ron had tossed his shirt on the bed. And it had landed on top of her clothes. Meaning it was now in her hands and he was still sitting out there. Shirtless.
A bold and potentially ridiculous idea lodged itself in her brain, and before she could overthink it or lose her nerve, she grabbed his t-shirt and threw it over her head, letting the towel drop to the floor. She pulled on her knickers and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she did so. Pausing in her task of dressing, she moved closer to it and inspected her face. There was a scratch along her cheek and bags under her eyes. Her eyebrows had become a bit overgrown over the months, even though she'd done what she could to maintain them when she had the chance. She found herself wishing she had her wand, but was thankful that she'd at least managed to shave her legs on their last day at Shell Cottage, knowing it could possibly be awhile before she had the chance to do it again.
Well, she could look a lot worse. At least she was alive and healthy.
Hermione worked her hair into a plait, planning to cast a drying charm on it once she had her wand. It was a bit surprising to her that she'd managed not to bring it into the bathroom with her. She couldn't remember the last time she hadn't had it on her.
After a moment's hesitation where she actually considered not putting on the sleep shorts she'd grabbed, Hermione finished dressing and took a deep breath before leaving the bathroom.
Ron had gotten under the covers while he waited for her. He was sitting up against the headboard, wide awake and staring blankly ahead with his arms crossed while worrying his lower lip between his teeth. And still shirtless. He didn't look over at her until she took another step forward and the soft fall of her feet against the stone floor filled the silent room.
Any hesitation she'd had about her choice of attire was proved unnecessary at the look on his face. His eyes drank her in and the corner of his mouth twitched into a half smile as he said, "I was wondering where that had gotten to."
"Sorry," she said a bit sheepishly, tugging at the bottom of the t-shirt and realizing that you could hardly tell she was wearing shorts. "Do you mind?"
He was shaking his head before she even finished the question. And then he pulled back the covers in an obvious invitation. Not stopping to overthink had been working well for her so far, so she did her best not to hesitate as she made her way towards him and crawled onto the bed.
It wasn't a very wide mattress, but enough that they could lie side-by-side without contact. If they chose to. Hermione slid under the covers and down the mattress so she was lying on her side, facing him as he moved as well. And then they were lying there and facing each other, barely any space between them and their heads on the same pillow.
Hermione took a moment to look at him, partly because she didn't know what to say but also because she could. Getting lost in his blue eyes was something she could easily see becoming an addictive habit. And she was giddy to see that he appeared to be getting a bit lost in her as well. Harry and Ron had both received haircuts during their time at Shell Cottage, but his ginger locks still hung across his forehead. It was a bit damp from his shower as it curled around his ears, and Hermione had to restrain herself from reaching out to run her fingers through it.
"Thank you," she breathed out, feeling the need to focus on something other than staring at him.. "For letting me stay here."
Ron gave a somewhat bashful shrug. "Of course. Wouldn't want you anywhere else."
His words sent a thrum of anticipation and hope through Hermione.
"Do you know where my wand is?" she found herself asking. Ron blinked a few times before sitting up and reaching for the wand resting on the table by his bed. Except it wasn't hers. And it wasn't Ron's either. She still took it and looked at Ron quizzically. He shrugged.
"I figured you'd rather not use her wand."
She looked at him in question for a moment before she remembered. Her wand had been taken at Malfoy Manor weeks ago. She'd been using Bellatrix's wand.
"Thank you," she said, waving the wand she now remembered to have been Peter Pettigrew's. Not ideal, but still a preferable option to the one that had been used to torture her. She handed it back to Ron once her hair was a bit dryer. There was so much of it that it was hard to get it all in one go.
"Hopefully ours are still somewhere in Malfoy Manor," said Ron as he waved the wand himself and the curtains snapped shut. He paused before waving it again, and she had to guess that he'd put up a privacy spell of some kind, either imperturbing the bed or putting up a muffliato. Hermione held back a grin as he reached out to set the wand on the bedside table before turning back to her and resuming his previous position. Was he closer now? Had he done that on purpose?
"They'll probably tear that place apart so they're bound to find them if they're there," he continued. "Wouldn't be opposed if they decided to burn the place down afterwards."
His words were laced with conviction and his gaze was fierce and protective. And Hermione melted a bit knowing it was all for her.
"We can think about all that later," she said, a soft smile on her face. "Right now, I just want…"
Ron looked at her expectantly as she paused. There were so many things she wanted, she didn't know where to start.
"Want what?" he finally asked. And Hermione could feel herself nearly shaking because of how close she was to him. And she could feel the heat radiating off him and it would be so easy to reach out and touch him.
"I want to forget," she managed to say. "Just for now. Forget all the pain and everything that's going to come tomorrow and just be. I want to…" she paused and licked her lips as she mustered her courage. "I want to lie here with you and soak in the fact that you're here and you're okay and I don't have to be terrified that the same won't be true tomorrow."
A tear escaped down her cheek, but Ron was there to wipe it away before she could think to do it herself. Her breath caught in her throat at the feel of his cool skin on her flushed face. But then he swept his thumb across her cheek once again, and a stab of pain hit her as he caught the scratch she forgot needed to be healed.
"Sorry," said Ron, immediately pulling his hand away at her grimace of pain. But before she could tell him that it was fine, he sat up and leaned out past the curtains to grab something else off his nightstand.
"Here," he said, sitting up next to her and taking the dropper out of the Dittany. Hermione felt unable to do anything other than continue to lie there as he gently rested the edge of his hand against her jaw so he could drip the potion onto her cut. She let out one hiss of pain, for which he mumbled an apology, but managed to keep it together otherwise.
Ron sat back and inspected the cut before nodding in approval. And then his eyes met hers. "Where else?"
Well...since he was offering. But best to not look too eager, right?
"Ron, you really don't have to-"
"I want to," he cut her off, looking both sincere and like what he was doing should be expected. "Besides, I sort of want to soak up the fact that you're alive and breathing too, and this seems like a good way to do it."
Merlin, have mercy. Her heart was liable to beat out of her chest at this rate.
With a fortifying deep breath, she rolled onto her back and pulled her arms out from under the covers. And Ron began the slow and methodical task of healing her many scrapes and bruises, alternating between the Dittany and the bruise removal paste. Hermione couldn't hold back a shiver when he gently pushed the sleeve of his shirt up her arm, and when he hesitated and looked at her to make sure she was okay, she was very quick to nod and give him an encouraging smile.
He grew a bit more confident after that, and when he was done with her arms, began pulling the covers further down and exposing her legs. Hermione assisted by kicking them off the rest of the way before lying eagerly in anticipation.
She was practically shaking as Ron's gaze swept over her bare thighs, finding a rather large bruise on the side of the one closest to him. It was impossible to hold back the hiss of pain when he began to coat it with paste, even though his touch was gentle.
"Sorry," he said a bit gruffly, his eyes darting to hers for a moment before going back to his task. His hand stilled a moment later, his lip caught between his teeth as he hesitated. And then he was slipping his hand behind her knee and lifting, causing her leg to bend. Hermione watched with wide eyes and let her foot fall flat against the bed as Ron locked his eyes on the now exposed back of her thigh.
"Couldn't reach…" he mumbled, and it was hard to miss the way his ears were now bright red.
"It's fine," said Hermione, her voice carrying a more breathy quality than she would've preferred. It was a bit difficult to think clearly let alone breath at a normal pace when he was so gently and almost reverently touching her.
She hadn't realized she'd closed her eyes until Ron cleared his throat a bit awkwardly.
"You can…" He gestured to her leg when she looked at him, and Hermione quickly lowered it to the bed. The remainder of the time he spent on her legs was mostly uneventful, but it did send the occasional chill along her spine when he'd brush against her, both purposely and accidentally. It helped keep her calm to have her eyes closed, but also heightened her sense of touch, increasing the effect he had on her.
If Ron noticed the way she was nearly trembling like a leaf and kept taking in sharp breaths, he didn't acknowledge it. Either to save her the embarrassment or because he assumed it was only due to the slight pain that came with the healing ointments.
"How's your back?" he asked, a rough quality to his voice even as he spoke softly.
"It's fine…" she said a bit tentatively, opening her eyes to find him watching her expectantly and with concern.
Well, there was nothing for it now. Since everything else was healed, it was impossible to ignore the pain in her hip.
With a shaky sigh, she gathered the hem of his shirt in her hands and slowly pulled it up, exposing her hips and stomach. Ron let out a painful sounding gasp when his eyes landed on her bruised skin.
"Bloody hell," he ground out, grabbing the Dittany and moving a bit closer to her. He was sitting with his legs crossed and his knees were now pressed against her bare thigh. Hermione hissed in pain as he healed the torn skin, and he waited for it to stitch back together before picking up the bruise paste.
"This is…this is probably gonna be pretty painful," he warned her, looking into her eyes apologetically.
"It's okay," she said, gripping the sheets tightly on either side and bracing herself. "Just do it."
Ron hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want to do it yourself?"
She shook her head. "No. I probably won't be able to make myself do it through the pain."
Ron nodded and then she squeezed her eyes tightly shut.
Even though he was as delicate as possible, pain still shot through her hip. It was impossible to stop the reflexive gasp of pain or her leg lifting off the bed and curling towards her.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, love," she heard Ron murmur as she continued to gasp in pain. But it was almost shocked out of her system when she registered the barest press of his lips on the inside of her knee, which was now up by his face.
She let her foot rest flat on the mattress, allowing her knee to fall towards him and rest against what felt like his shoulder. When she opened her eyes, she saw Ron concentrating on covering the entire bruise with the paste using his right hand, his left planted on the bed between her legs. If she were to lower her leg, it would be under her upper thigh.
A few moments later, the pain really did start to ebb away, replaced by the feel of his fingers continuing to stroke lightly over her hip.
"Must've been down to the bone," he said. "If it was that painful."
Hermione could only give a subtle nod of agreement, her breathing growing easier and her body relaxing. She shifted slightly, which resulted in the fingers of the hand that was on the bed coming in briefest contact with the back of her thigh.
Actually, it was almost too high up to be her thigh. And goosebumps erupted across her exposed flesh at the thought.
Had he noticed?
She watched him, and Ron continued to soothe her now nearly healed skin with his fingers, his touch turning to slightly bolder caresses. His eyes were focused on her bare stomach, and Hermione willed her breathing to stay under control as his hand began to wander towards uninjured skin. He ran his fingers from her hip to her navel and then back again, his touch delicate and deliberate. When he reached her hip again, he trailed his fingers up to her ribs and then back down, and Hermione had never been more thankful in her life that she wasn't ticklish there.
And then he rested his temple against her knee, and the fingers of his left hand flexed up off the bed to this time purposefully brush against the soft skin where her thigh met her backside.
They'd definitely moved past the healing part of the evening. And everything he was doing was screaming at Hermione to believe that he might just want her the way she wanted him.
"Ron?" she said, softly and hesitantly, terrified she'd ruin the moment. His hand stilled on her skin. He took a deep breath, letting it out as he turned his head to press his forehead against her knee.
"Sorry," he breathed out, his warm exhale tickling across the inside of her knee. Then he was pulling away from her completely, and Hermione suddenly felt cold and exposed as he planted his feet on the bed and rested his arms on his knees, burying his face in them so she couldn't see his lovely blue eyes. His handsome face. His adorable smile. She missed all of it already.
Slowly, she pushed herself up and leaned back on her hands, hardly caring or noticing the way the wide neck of his shirt slipped to reveal her bare shoulder. She was about to ask him what was wrong when he spoke.
"Fuck, I'm really sorry," he said, his voice muffled by his arms. "That was...I was supposed to be taking care of you, not acting like some...not pawing at you without your permission and…"
He trailed off and let out a heavy exhale before lifting his head. Whatever he was about to say appeared to fall out of his head as he looked at her. His eyes trailed from her exposed shoulder and across her chest, down to where her shorts had ridden up so high on her thighs that she might as well not be wearing them.
"Shit," he grumbled, burying his face in his hands a moment later. "I thought I'd be able to handle this better."
Hermione swallowed nervously. "Handle what?"
He gave a nonspecific wave of his hand in her general direction before returning it to his face. For some reason, this irritated her more than anything.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked a bit indignantly.
"I just didn't think it would be this bloody hard," he snapped back, still not looking at her.
Hermione huffed and sat up so she could cross her arms. "If me being here is so difficult for you-"
"No," he groaned out in annoyance, finally dropping his hands and looking up at her. "Not like that, you barmy witch."
She glared at him. "Ron-"
"I didn't think it would be so bloody hard to be so fucking close to you and not...and keep my hands to myself."
Hermione stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, and then he groaned and flopped onto his back, his head at the foot of the bed as he rubbed tiredly at his face.
"I've been doing it for years," he grumbled. "You'd think I'd be able to last another godforsaken night, but no. The minute I get the chance, I have to cross the line and start to feel you up. I'm an idiot and I'm sorry."
The greater portion of Hermione's fear and uncertainty fell away at his words. They were proof that he actually did want this. He wanted her. At least in a physical sense. Could it be more than that?
Gathering her courage, she got up on her knees and crawled down to the end of the bed. Ron removed his hands from his face and stared wide eyed at her as she moved closer. He gave a nervous gulp and his eyes stayed locked on hers as she lowered herself onto her stomach, lying next to him and propped up on her elbows so she could continue looking down into his face.
"Ron, I…" She cleared her throat nervously before continuing. "Whenever and however you touch me, I feel very much taken care of."
An unmistakable heat grew in his eyes at her words, but he remained still.
"I...I never said you needed to keep your hands to yourself," she continued. "I mean, if all you want is a meaningless night of snogging and...things...I can't help you, but…"
Her brown eyes looked uncertainly into his, and she mustered her strength to finish.
"I kissed you, remember? And you have to know that I'd never risk something as important to me as our friendship just for some random snog. Even if I thought we were about to die. I kissed you because...because I couldn't bear the thought of either of us dying and you never knowing how I feel. Especially since I haven't exactly been fair to you since you came back. I couldn't have you thinking I didn't…"
There were tears in her eyes and she sniffed, hoping they wouldn't fall. He was looking at her like he couldn't quite believe what she was saying. Which was fair. She couldn't quite believe it either.
And then he turned towards her and his hand rested on the small of her back and he kissed her soundly. A moan of pleasure and relief escaped Hermione, and she gladly rolled onto her side, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him with her as she fell onto her back.
How had she gone from panicking in the bathroom about simply being in the same bed as him to this in such a short amount of time?
He pulled away briefly, but only to adjust the position of his head and then his lips were on hers once again, the hand that he'd placed on her back now running up and down her side as he used the other one to prop himself up above her.
Why had they gone so long without doing this? There was a tenderness in the way he kissed her that took Hermione's breath away, but there was also an undeniable strength to it. Like he was giving it absolutely everything he had. There was nothing casual about the way he expertly parted his mouth over hers, encouraging her to do the same and causing her entire being to nearly short circuit. He kissed her like it was the only thing he wanted to spend his life doing, and she was sorely tempted to let it be.
She finally gave into the temptation to run her fingers through his gloriously soft hair, causing him to moan against her mouth and give her the first taste of his tongue against her own. Her grip tightened in his hair and his hand fisted her shirt at her waist.
"Hermione," he growled, only pulling away far enough to do so before he was kissing her again, his mouth moving hungrily against hers. She moaned and dragged her fingers over his scalp before pulling his lower lip between her own. This earned a groan from Ron, and he released his hold on her shirt to grip her waist. Hermione pulled her mouth away from his with a gasp when his hand met her bare side where her shirt had ridden up.
There were almost too many sensations at once, especially due to the fact that this was very new territory for her. Not just with Ron, but with anyone. The most she'd ever done was receive a few rather chaste pecks from Victor, and a short lived assault on her tonsils by McLaggen.
It was all a bit overwhelming.
Ron had begun trailing kissing along her jaw after she'd pulled away, and he was now making his way down her neck, murmuring what sounded like her name into her skin over and over. They were both breathing heavily, and as he reached her collarbone, he slowed, dropping a few kisses there before resting his forehead against her.
"I can't believe…" he panted, pausing to drop another kiss right above the collar of her shirt. His shirt, which was still hanging off her shoulder. And Ron began working his way over to the yet unexplored skin.
"Hermione..." He dropped a kiss on the front of her shoulder. "Merlin, I…" - a kiss on the top of her shoulder - "I want this." He kissed the spot between her shoulder and her neck. "I want you."
His words had her tensing up. "What?"
"I mean," he murmured into her skin. "I already said it felt impossible to," - a kiss right behind her jaw - "to keep my hands off you." He rested his cheek against hers for a moment before pulling back to look into her eyes. "You drive me mental, you know that?"
Hermione watched him uncertainly.
"I've spent ages trying not to want this," he continued. "Mostly because I figured it wasn't possible you could want it too."
She couldn't help rolling her eyes even as she smiled nervously and brought her hand around to rest against his cheek.
"But also 'cause by the time I finally got my head on straight and faced up to the fact that I was madly in love with you, it was the absolute worst timing."
What? He...what?
"And I know now's not the best timing either," he rambled on, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she'd stopped breathing. "But…bloody hell, I'm still trying to process the fact that you…Hermione, I… I just want every single bit of you. And I'm getting really, really tired of waiting."
He was watching her, a determined look in his eyes even though he was worrying his slightly swollen lower lip between his teeth.
Holy Merlin, she was the reason he looked so freshly snogged, his lips swollen and his hair thoroughly mussed as he continued to try and regain control of his breathing.
She wanted to take in all of these things and savor them, but more than that, she wanted to whip her mind into focus. Because what he'd just said…had he really just said…?
"You...you what?"
Her question seemed to confuse him. "Er…I'm tired of waiting?"
Hermione shook her head. "No. No, the… the other thing."
It took him a moment, but then his eyes widened as he realized what he'd admitted.
"Oh," he said, the hand that was still firmly holding her side flexing a bit as he cleared his throat and glanced away from her. But it was only for a moment, and that fierce determination was back when his stormy blue eyes met hers.
"Yeah, I'm…I love you."
A rush of breath left Hermione and her eyes welled with tears, her fingers shaking against the side of his face. She closed her eyes to allow herself to breathe in the moment, using the hand that was still on the back of his neck to pull him closer. He rested his forehead against hers, his breath coming in quick bursts against her lips.
"And you want me?" she asked, his closeness now giving her comfort, and the fact that he couldn't see how red she was giving her confidence as her new reality sunk in. He let out a breathy chuckle, the warmth of his breath caressing her face.
"Yeah," he said simply. "I have for a long time."
"Why?"
She wasn't sure what had made her ask the question, other than the fact that she found herself really needing to hear his answer.
"Well...I mean," he began uncertainly. He pulled back to look at her and she willed herself to stop blushing as she met his gaze. "It sort of goes along with the whole being madly in love with you, don't you think?"
Hermione's eyes welled up with tears once more and she let out a groan, covering her face in embarrassment.
"Hermione?"
"How do you manage to say such wonderful things?" she moaned through her hands. There was a pause and then Hermione felt the barest brush of lips against the back of her knuckles, She lowered her hands to look up into Ron's inquisitive face.
"I just…" she began uncertainly. "I'm not very...you know…"
"Not very what?" asked Ron, sounding genuinely confused about what she was getting at.
She let out an exasperated sigh and looked at him pointedly. "It's not like I'm…like I'm beautiful or...or sexy or-"
She was silenced by Ron kissing her fiercely, and Hermione felt herself melting into him all over again. He left her breathless when he pulled away, gazing down at her with a sincere yet slightly nervous look.
"Hermione...you are beautiful," he said emphatically. "Your eyes are stunning and you've got a gorgeous smile and everything else is just so damn sexy that sometimes it's hard to go on breathing when I look at you."
Hermione was frozen in shock, but Ron didn't seem to be finished.
"And… I mean, I think all those same things about who you are as a person too. You're beautifully selfless and stunningly brave and...and you have a gorgeous heart. And don't even get me started on how sexy that brilliant brain of yours is."
Any moment now she was going to physically combust from the combination of joy and embarrassment and shock that his words stirred up in her. There was no doubt in her mind that her face was bright red.
"Sorry," Ron mumbled with a shrug, suddenly looking a bit uncomfortable. "That's just all been rolling around in my brain for ages now and it's hard to not let it sort of...slip out."
She could only stare into his vulnerable eyes as her whole body practically vibrated with something undefinable. And then she was rapidly fluctuating between giggling and trying very hard not to cry, her hands going up to wipe at her eyes as delight and disbelief and shock worked its way through her.
"Sorry," she finally managed to get out, reaching up to tentatively rest a shaky hand against his chest as the other continued to wipe at her eyes. "I'm such a mess."
Ron gave a sheepish shrug. "It's all right."
Hermione let out another giggle before attempting to compose herself. "I just...I just really, really love you."
It had been completely worth conquering her nerves to say it when a look of joyous shock crossed his face.
"Yeah?" he asked, a giddiness to his voice that she hadn't heard before. It was all she could do to keep from crying out of sheer joy - and probably a few other things thrown in - as she nodded in confirmation. It was impossible to tell who kissed whom after that, and Hermione had a feeling they were going to quickly lose count of kisses, even though she'd been doing her best to keep track in the back of her mind.
No matter what number they ever got to, it probably still wouldn't be enough. And not just because she felt like they had a lot of lost time to make up for. Kissing him felt like it was quickly becoming only secondary to breathing in its necessity for daily life.
And his hands…She'd always loved his hands, at one point seeming almost comically large as he grew into his lanky form, but now the perfect size and strong and capable of such tenderness. He was currently using one of them to explore the exposed skin of her midriff, and she could tell he was growing a bit frustrated by the fact that he had to use the other to continue to hold himself up so he could keep kissing her and not crush her.
"Hang on," she said breathily, reluctantly reclaiming her lips from his. He looked at her in confusion as she pressed against his chest, but he sat back, and Hermione followed. She was on her knees and crawling into his lap a moment later, and Ron was grinning widely as he welcomed her into his arms.
"Much better," he whispered against her own smile, and then his hands were roaming up and down her rib cage as he kissed her softly and repeatedly. Hermione sighed and wound her arms around his neck, her fingers trailing across his shoulders and up into his hair and back again. She traced his scar and willed herself not to feel guilty about it. The way he kissed her a bit more soundly a moment later had her wondering if he knew exactly what she was thinking. He probably did.
His tongue was now stroking leisurely against hers and it was hard for Hermione to focus on much of anything else. Except for his hands on her hips. And the way they were now creeping under the baggy shirt she was wearing to rest on her bare skin. It both exhilarated and terrified her, to go from being nothing more than best friends only a few hours ago to her literally straddling him with his hands under his t-shirt that she was wearing. Well, she supposed they'd already been a little something more than best friends, but they hadn't acted on it. And they were both definitely acting on it now.
Hermione shivered as Ron trailed his hands up and down her bare sides, his fingers traveling a bit higher each time, a rather obvious, ultimate destination in mind
"Ron," she whispered, pulling away and resting her forehead against his. Ron merely hummed in response and kissed her again. Hermione gave a whimper before moving her hands to rest firmly on his shoulders and pull herself away again. "Ron, I… I'm not…"
He looked at her in concern, his hands stilling on her waist as he panted a bit heavily. "Something wrong?"
She shook her head and took a deep breath. "No, it's just...I'm not wearing a…"
Her cheeks turned pink as she glanced briefly down before looking up at him pointedly. Ron's ears were red and he swallowed nervously, licked his lips, and then gave her a crooked grin. "Yeah, I noticed."
Now her whole face was red as his thumbs stroked soothingly against her stomach. Merlin, his hands were big. He was practically encompassing her with them. "Right," she choked out. Ron raised an eyebrow.
"Is that a problem?"
Hermione shook her head. "No, I just...Is this too much?"
He watched her for a moment, a slight frown on his face as he contemplated her words.
"I mean," she continued, slipping her hands down to his chest and trying not to be distracted by his well defined muscles and freckly skin, "I know we love each other and trust me, I want you too. So much. And I know I said I wanted to forget, but we also just survived a war. We barely made it out alive and…some of us didn't."
She hated herself for saying it, but she knew she'd regret it if things got carried away and all they were doing was running from their pain. Ron let out a shuddering breath, a shimmer of tears forming in his eyes, and Hermione wound her arms around his neck and pulled him close, his arms tightening around her waist and his head resting on her shoulder. His breaths came quicker, and then his whole body shook with a sob. Hermione couldn't help the silent tears that escaped her as well.
"It's not fucking fair," he ground out, his fingers pressing into her as if he were holding on for dear life. "Nothing about any of this is bloody fair."
"I know," she whispered, her own voice shaky as she kissed the side of his head and stroked his hair. His grip on her loosened a bit as she pulled back enough to kiss his cheek. "And I'm sorry. Ron I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."
He pulled back and shook his head, and she wiped at his tear stained cheeks while he sniffed and kept his eyes focused on her exposed shoulder. "It's all right. We had to talk about it eventually."
Hermione sighed, closing her eyes and resting her forehead against his. "We don't have to right now. I just...I didn't want things to get carried away to the point where we'd...do something we'd regret."
In some ways, she knew she could never regret anything they might do because it was with Ron. It felt mad to admit that she wanted everything with him, and that everything else in life she wanted didn't seem to matter as much if she wasn't able to share it with him. It had sounded like he wanted the same, but how clearly was he thinking? Was he running from the pain and grief that she couldn't even begin to imagine dealing with herself?
"Hermione," he began, his voice soft and filled with vulnerability. "The only things I could ever regret when it comes to you are the ways I've hurt you. And I know I have far too many times. I was an idiot about a lot of things last year and should never've left you in that sodding tent. There's no bloody excuse for that except my own stupid insecurities and selfishness. And I swear...I'll never leave you again."
Tears were streaming down her cheeks as he held her tenderly in his arms. She let out a sob and he pulled her close, slightly rocking her as she rested her head on his shoulder. It surprised her that even though she'd forgiven him for all of that, she'd still needed to hear those words.
"Thank you," she said softly. "And I forgive you, Ron. I forgive you for everything, and I hope you can forgive me too."
"For what?" he asked, sounding surprised.
"For being so cruel when you came back. I know now that you would've done right away if you could've, and you managed to save Harry and destroy the Horcrux. I was too stubborn and proud to forgive you even though I wanted to, and I wish I'd done it sooner."
Ron held her a bit tighter and kissed the top of her head. "I suppose I forgive you too," he said against her forehead. "Even though I probably deserved all the glares."
Hermione let out an annoyed huff and sat up to meet his eyes, glad to see he was no longer crying and even had a soft smile on his face that she instinctively returned. "Agree to put it behind us?"
"Absolutely."
"Good," she sighed, and then she leaned forward to kiss him softly.
"Hermione?" he said between soft kisses. "About the other thing?"
Hermione paused. "What other thing?"
"About doing something we might regret?"
He seemed nervous, so she tried not to show she felt the same as she waited for him to continue.
"It's just...we could get back under the covers and fall asleep and I'd be bloody happy to do nothing but hold you in my arms the rest of the night. But if there was anything else...if we took things further and you were comfortable with that, I could never regret being with you that way. No matter the circumstances."
Hermione could feel her heart returning to a pounding rhythm, thrilled to know he felt the same way she did.
"Only if you wanted to, of course," he was quick to add. "But I just think we've spent an awful lot of time putting off the things we want because everything else in the world is screaming at us that it's not the right time or we manage to somehow bungle it up ourselves. And I know we still could and all of this still fucking terrifies me a bit, but I'm pretty sure we want the same things and if we fight for this…Hermione if we fight for this, we can have it. I know we can."
His conviction was so fierce and heartfelt and it filled her with warmth, her entire body alight with excitement at the prospect of truly having the things she wanted. It had seemed impossible and downright laughable to even consider having the future she dreamed of even if she did survive. It was still barely in her hands, but it was there. It was possible and highly probably that she could have it.
And even though she'd be more than happy to never fight another battle again, fighting for Ron - and likely sometimes with him - was a battle wild Hippogriffs couldn't drag her away from.
Her mouth clashed hungrily against his, and it took a shocked Ron a moment to respond, but then he was moving his mouth against hers with enthusiasm, his hands once again roaming her bare stomach and sides, creeping higher and higher.
His fingertips had just brushed against the underside of her breasts when they heard a snore. They both immediately froze, Hermione shocked to realize she'd forgotten where they were and that they weren't exactly alone.
"It's okay," Ron murmed against her lips. "They can't hear us."
It was easy to relax against him as he began to kiss her tenderly, tempting to just shut off her brain and let whatever happened happen.
But now she couldn't shake the fact that their best friend and the majority of Ron's siblings were sleeping only beds away.
"Ron," she said apologetically, her hands cupping his face as she gave him one more soft peck. "I could never regret being with you either, but...I might regret our first time happening while Harry and your siblings were in the room."
Ron heaved a heavy sigh. He turned his head so he could place a kiss on her palm. "You're probably right." He leaned forward and pecked her lips once again, like it was quickly becoming a habit.
"We have time now," she said reassuringly. "Way more than I ever expected to, honestly."
Her words had a sobering effect, and they both simply sat there holding each other for a while. It was understandable that they both felt a need to take advantage of a rare moment of quiet and solitude and privacy, but those were hopefully becoming less and less rare. They could be patient knowing they'd have many opportunities to be like this again.
As they crawled back under the covers together, Hermione smiled as Ron instinctively curled against her, his arm around her waist and his nose pressed against the back of her neck. A chill went through her as he inhaled deeply, and she rested her hand on top of his, slipping her fingers between Ron's long and freckled ones.
It would soon be a new day, with new challenges to face and different directions for all of them to go. They had options now. Many more than they'd ever had before. It might take some time before she truly felt safe, but Hermione was certain of one thing. There was nothing she could ever decide to do that Ron Weasley wouldn't be right by her side for.